Richard couldn’t believe it. Yeah, Rhonda left. That was no big surprise, all things considered. But the investigation—the pace was intolerable. Like the fed’s best strategy was to wear them all down, kill them with worry, hold a magnifying glass to their heads and let the sun’s concentrated rays burn the fight out of them. All right, so Kyle was the one in the spotlight, but this hit him, too. They’d waited weeks for news and when it came, it was just more of the same: more questions, more time, more worry.
Richard would’ve done whatever he could to help his kid out of this mess, but he was no better than a beetle stuck on his back. Six legs and nothing to kick but air.
He hobbled over to the fridge and pulled open the freezer. He was either going to have to swallow half a bottle of Jack Daniel’s or put his muscles into a cryogenic freeze if he ever wanted to walk upright again. Maybe both. Either way, he needed ice.
Not to mention, he couldn’t go anywhere until he was certain his wife wouldn’t change the locks while he was gone.
The home phone rang and he reached for it—easy, easy, easy, goddamn it. He looked at the number.
Friggin’ Violet.
“Endres,” he barked into the receiver.
“Richard. Ed Baumgartner here.”
So—apparently Violet wasn’t talking to her husband, either. Yeah, he knew. He didn’t need a map. He and Ed were both men of a certain age, which meant they didn’t talk on the phone unless someone was dead or in jail.
“You’re in the doghouse, too, eh?”
“Well,” said Ed. “I’m back on phone answering duty, if that counts for much.”
Frigging Baumgartners. Why couldn’t they just spit it out, say, Yeah, life’s a pile of dog shit and I just stepped in it.
“To what do I owe the pleasure, Ed?”
“Yes, well, I believe it would be in everyone’s best interest to come together and discuss what happened yesterday.” Ed cleared his throat. “It appears we are—family now.”
Well, how about that? “Yep. Sure looks that way.”
“Shall we say Friday night, then? At our house. I will ensure Cerise and Barb can join us. If you can do the same with Kyle?”
Richard said he would.
“And, one more thing before I go?” said Ed.
Now Richard was especially intrigued. “Shoot,” he said.
“I was wondering if I could hire you to help me with some plumbing issues we’ve been having here at the house. There’s a sink I just can’t seem to fix.”
“Hire me?”
“Hire you. Yes.” Again with the throat clearing. “I thought I saw you at Home Depot recently—in an exchange with a man for whom it appeared you may have done some work. And I just assumed—”
Well, hell. Maybe poor old Ed hadn’t been tailing him, after all. And yet, only a fool gets fooled, meaning, Richard had a few questions of his own. “I noticed you at the Home Depot, yeah. Easy coincidence. When you showed up at the movie theater, though...and were you at a brewpub in St. Cloud recently? I gotta say, Ed. I think you might be tailing me.”
“Why on earth would I do that?”
“You tell me. Just seems awful coincidental to keep bumping into you.”
Baumgartner was quiet on the line for a beat. “Well, at the risk of making us both sound like stereotypes, Richard, we were hardly the only retired men in that movie theater last week.”
The theater had been dark, of course, but as far as he could recall, Ed was right. It was a full of old gray fools just looking to escape the house for a few hours.
Ed continued, “I don’t even like Clint Eastwood movies, as a rule. But I think you can relate when I tell you—in confidence, of course—that sometimes the walls threaten to close in on a fellow.”
“Or your wife threatens you with another item on the Honey-Do list.”
“Yes, well. Anyway...” Ed got back to his original question. “When I saw you at the store I figured you were picking up extra work as a handyman. I know—at least Eldris tells us it’s been...” He paused. “Difficult. Financially.”
Richard didn’t respond. He was tempted to let Ed flail on the line while he sat back and enjoyed the sound of the struggle. But he knew better. Baumgartner wasn’t one for financial one-upmanship. This wasn’t a game he was playing.
“Not that,” added Ed. “Not that we mean to imply that you need our money, of course. I simply—”
“You didn’t see what you thought you saw, Ed. But I’ll be happy to help you with your sink. Shouldn’t be a problem.”
They said their goodbyes and hung up.
So they’d both been wrong. How about that?
His back was now in full-blown mutiny—a posse of angry villagers throwing their torches at the ogre that had become his hunched and screaming spine—but he grabbed the back of one of the kitchen chairs and pushed it, inch by inch, across the floor like an old man with a walker. The ten-foot journey took him longer than a hippie hitchhiking to Vegas, but he finally made it to the couch.
Down, down. Easy. Damn it.
He hit the sagging cushion with a plop and moaned as the villagers raged.
He knew that what his back really needed was a few hours on the hard floor, but he didn’t trust that once down, he’d be able to get back up. And Eldris sure as hell couldn’t be relied on to rescue him. Even if she did show him even the tiniest kernel of human decency by trying to lift him, she’d snap her bones in two and end up falling there next to him, injured and moaning and begging to be put out of her misery.
God, wouldn’t it just be Kyle’s luck to walk in on that.
What a year. He’d gone from unemployed sap to involuntary retiree. Eldris was as ornery as ever. And Kyle, well... They couldn’t let their guard down yet. Their kid was wrapped in a package he didn’t buy but that had his name stamped all over it.
Literally. That’s why the feds started asking questions. Several of the glasses used in The Watchers crap had tags on them. This gift of sight brought to you by EyeShine! He couldn’t believe it. Whatever brilliant criminal overlooked that small detail deserved to get caught. It’s how Richard knew this wasn’t Kyle’s fault. The kid wasn’t dumb. A little naive, yeah. But not flat-out stupid.
Meanwhile, all Richard could do was sit his ass on the couch. The sagging, faded couch that Eldris had picked out the day she learned she was pregnant with Kyle. She’d come home from the doctor that day in tears, hollering at him about how could he even think about bringing a child into the world when he wouldn’t even provide decent seating for the child’s soon-to-be grandparents.
Goddamn it. He just realized that made two couches Eldris had forced him to buy on account of her mother.
But that’s why he’d married her, wasn’t it? All right, so she could be strong-willed and he admitted to letting her push him around on the home front. So what? It was her territory. That was the unspoken agreement. She’d created a space where Kyle felt safe and Richard knew his place. No one bossed Eldris around in her own house. Not even him. And that mattered. It meant she loved her family as much as he did.
When it came to Richard’s territory, yeah, he’d made a different map for himself. And he’d followed it. He’d trudged all the way to the top of the advertising mountaintop, all the way to Senior VP, hauling ass the whole way like a good soldier should. Then he turned left, took a single goddamn turn off course and walked his ass right off the face of that mountain. Not because he wanted to. Because they’d shoved him. Coaxed him all the way to the highest, most dangerous peak and pushed him right off.
Which wasn’t to say he hadn’t saved himself. Because he had. He’d grabbed hold of the strongest limb he could reach and clawed his way to safety. He wasn’t falling anymore. He was stable. His feet were both on solid ground.
He paused the rushing of his thoughts for a minute and twisted slightly to
the right, trying to work a muscle or two loose in his back. They answered by hissing fire. But he didn’t retreat. He twisted to the left.
Easy. Easy. Damn you.
If Richard survived this last year, he had to trust Kyle would make it through this feds business. It looked bad, yes. But they’d see. This wasn’t Kyle’s doing—the kid was all heart. Too much, probably. Too much wanting to help the helpless and foster world peace and all that. All heart was right. He’d dated Rhonda, what, six weeks before popping the question? Look where that got him. A broken engagement and a ring he couldn’t return.
Well, now.
That was a turn of events he hadn’t considered.
He sat for a moment, mulling.
Richard edged his hand slowly into his pocket, cursing the villagers and their fires as he went, and pulled out his cell phone.
Richard again. A little birdie tells me there’s been a change in your status. And it just struck me: I don’t have any reason to keep your borrowing habits a secret anymore.
Que¿
Yeah, that’s right. Keep up the charade. But you and I both know. I’ve got your number.
Richard waited for a response. He let a minute tick by. Then a few more. Nothing. Good. He had her attention.
Turns out I also have the email. You remember that, don’t you? The one where you say you need to swing by to pick up a few of Kyle’s boxes.
And?
I think you and I both know those are the donations showing up on the feds’ doorstep.
And I’ve had a lot of time to think lately. I’m a pretty smart guy. So I did some math.
Never did like math much, but I’m actually kind of a whiz at it. Fancy this equation: Ambitious young broadcaster + an eye for opportunity x social media phenomenon = biggest “scoop” of her career.
You have one hour to fess up to the feds, Rhonda. After that, I’m doing it for you.
Christmas 1985
Dearest loved ones, far and near—
Evergreen Tidings from the Baumgartners!
Sadly, I’m afraid you will find me to be the bearer of bad news this year. Not a single snowflake has yet to fall and the world outside our window hearkens none of the Christmas cheer manufactured in department store displays or newspaper circulars. Here, ground meets sky as a stretch of dreary, deadened gray.
Oh, but I must depress you with such doleful news! And to do so when the annual Baumgartner Tidings are meant to bring good cheer and reports of a year well lived. But I’m afraid I must admit that 1985 has not felt glorious nor joyful for dear Ed and me, but has been one of heartbreak and tears.
For my dearest and I, two babies have already come and gone. Neither child was with us for long—the first miscarried during my fourth month, the second even sooner, during my third. But both were ours. They were our children, whom we loved from the very moment we knew of their presence, whose lives we treasured and anticipated with every breath, whose faces we pictured, even though they were not ultimately ours to see.
They were our babies. Do you understand?
On my stronger days, I am reminded of what God said to Abraham:
“And He took him outside and said, ‘Now look toward the heavens, and count the stars, if you are able to count them.’ And He said to him, ‘So shall your descendants be.’”
—Genesis 15:5
Who am I, I ask myself then, to question God’s plan? Who am I to despair when He asked so much more from Abraham and Isaac and Israel?
And yet, my brain argues with my heart and makes me question: What if it’s all just words?
Fear not! I say to myself then. Shake your head loose of its gray clouds, Violet, and remember what the angel said to Mary:
“For nothing will be impossible with God.”
—Luke 1:37
Oh! But if only I were strong not just of faith but also of nature. If only my body could keep our children safe until it was time, until the day their father and I were due to welcome them into this glorious world.
If only I did not wonder if our babies, themselves, made the choice to leave us.
“He gives strength to the weary, And to him who lacks might He increases power.”
—Isaiah 40:29
Dearest friends, I ask you to please keep Edward and I in your prayers, as we are so terribly weary. My beloved has been my rock, my center, and yet I fear my burdens may become too much even for him. We ask your grace to carry us.
May 1986 be a year of God’s richest blessings for us all.
Ed and Violet Baumgartner
44
Violet
“I’VE BROUGHT YOU some soup.”
Violet looked up to see Ed setting a tray of food on the side table next to the couch in the family room where she sat. Her afternoon tea was still in her hands, now long cold. She wasn’t hungry but she didn’t have the heart to tell him.
“Thank you, dear.” She sat up straight and brought the tray to her lap. Before retirement, her family had never eaten a single meal outside of the kitchen or dining room. Cerise had begged, certainly, when a favorite show or some other can’t miss television event was due to air, but Violet had strictly forbidden it. “The only distraction allowed at the Baumgartner table is a sparkling conversation,” she’d said.
Her stomach now roiled at the irony.
Even so, in recent months she and Ed had become quite adept at “lap lunching,” as she called it. Violet coined the term herself, convinced that activities were considerably less boorish when given a title.
“Will you join me?” She looked up at Ed and smiled.
He nodded. “Back in a jiffy.”
Soon, they were both tucking into warm bowls of wild rice soup.
“Ham in the soup tonight,” said Ed. “I know it’s an odd choice for June, but this seemed a good way to use up some of the leftovers.”
Violet hmm’d. She’d ordered five-dozen ham buns, six pounds of pasta salad and two relish trays for the postbaptism reception at the church, which, of course, never happened. Ed took much of the unused food to the Glorious Savior shelter downtown, but with the warm weather setting in, nearly half of their beds were empty and they couldn’t use but a portion. Now Ed would have to put ham in everything from omelets to salad.
“Probably two or three ham meals left, I figure. How would you feel about egg and cheese bake for breakfast tomorrow?”
Violet chewed quietly, considering.
“Dear?”
She snapped to and realized she’d been staring at a small piece of carrot on her spoon. She lowered it to the bowl and turned. “Yes?”
Ed’s face clouded with concern. “Don’t go dark, Violet.”
She wanted to play the naïf, pretend she didn’t have the slightest idea what he was talking about. Only, she did know. It was the term they’d used since the beginning of their marriage when one of them sensed the other turning away, isolating. Like she was doing now. “I realize,” she said, “it may look that way.” She picked up her napkin and wiped it across her lips. “But I’m not trying to.”
Ed wiped his own napkin across his mouth, and then slid his tray off his lap onto the couch beside him. He turned and gave his attention to Violet, waiting for her to say more.
“I suppose I’m simply feeling—directionless.” She sighed and followed Ed’s example, moving her tray to the side table. Then she pulled the gray merino wool blanket Cerise had given them for Christmas years ago across her legs. Summer was here, but she always ran chilly. “I’m afraid this year has left me with more questions than answers.”
It was Ed’s turn to hmm and nod and she appreciated his quiet patience while she sorted her thoughts.
“We were supposed to be off enjoying our retirement. Traveling. I’d hoped to go to Scandinavia this summer. Remember?”
“Yes
.”
“Instead, I feel like I’ve spent the year—quite literally—out of my head.”
Ed chuckled and took her hand. “At the risk of offending you, I have to agree.”
“For heaven’s sake, you hadn’t been retired five minutes before you had to play nursemaid. Twenty-four hours a day. For months. And let me just say, at the risk of offending you, there were times I never wanted to see or hear you again.”
She harrumphed, thinking of all the occasions Ed had checked on her in the bath or forced her to lie down for a rest or sent Eldris over to babysit. Gracious. “It felt like motherhood all over again, only this time, you were me and I was Cerise.”
Ed laughed. “At least you didn’t require toilet training.”
“Edward!”
He reached for her hand and stroked a thumb along her knuckles. “It wasn’t easy for either of us, Violet.” He waited for her to meet his eyes. “Once you get a bee in your bonnet, there’s no shaking it loose. You have exacting expectations and you don’t suffer fools.” He paused, not breaking eye contact. “Imagine what it was like being locked in the house with you all winter long.”
Violet crooked an eyebrow, and for once, she felt no zing, no pain. “I presume you’re about to make a point?”
Ed nodded. “I never resented caring for you and I would—will—do it again, should it become necessary. I don’t take my wedding vows lightly.” He brought his face in to hers, intensifying his point. “However...”
Violet waited, too exhausted to even get her defensive dander up.
“I would like you to repeat after me: The earth rotates at nearly 1,000 miles per hour.”
Violet pushed him back. “What in the world?”
Ed rebounded, leaning in again. “Say it, Violet. The earth rotates at nearly 1,000 miles per hour.”
“I will not.”
“Why?”
“Because it doesn’t have anything to do with what we’re discussing.”
Ed waited.
As did Violet.
The grandfather clock ticked.
Ed, finally, was the first to break. “All right. But I know who broke Pastor Norblad’s nose and I’m not going to tell you until you say it.”
Evergreen Tidings from the Baumgartners Page 28