Deeply, Desperately

by Heather Webber

  Her eyes flashed. “She said that?”

  I nodded.

  “She’s right.”

  I thought of Faye Dodd and the love I’d seen in her eyes when she spoke of Sarah. And the love I’d seen in Sarah’s eyes when she spoke of Maddie and Jake.

  “I came across something in your file today.”

  “Oh?”

  “About Jake’s first birthday. And Maddie’s first day of preschool.”

  I didn’t need to say more. Splotches of red formed on her cheeks. A tear rolled out of the corner of her eye.

  “I’m trying to make it up to them. I love them. Back then I didn’t have the patience to be a mother. A good mother. I was angry all the time, so unhappy. I thought life was all about me, me, me.”

  “What happened?”

  “On Jake’s first birthday, I was rushing around, trying to get everything right. I was mad that Scott had to work, that he didn’t seem to realize how much I had to do on my own. I accidentally knocked into Jake. He fell into the coffee table. He cried and cried, and I only got angrier. I finally put him in his crib. After a while I realized he was still crying. I went in, fit to burst, but one look at his face and I knew it was bad. I took him straight to the ER. I told them he fell into the table. And they told me it had to have been with some force to tear his intestine. I didn’t tell them the truth and no one really pushed for it.”

  “Did Scott know?”

  She shook her head. “I never told him.”

  “And with Maddie?”

  “We were running late for her first day of preschool. She was dancing around, laughing, giggling. Jake was fussy. It was just one of those mornings. On our way out the door, I had Jake in one arm and was trying to hurry Maddie along with the other hand on her back to keep her moving. I thought she had hold of the handrail but she didn’t. She fell down the steps and broke her arm. If I hadn’t been pushing her …” She shook her head. “I didn’t purposely hurt them, but I was a terrible mother. No patience at all. Always losing my temper, always wishing I were somewhere else.”

  “And Scott didn’t see any of this?”

  “He worked so much. I resented him for that. Blamed him. Somehow convinced myself it was Scott’s fault I was like I was. I was stupid, thinking a different man would make me happy, which is when I met Jerry. It took a long time for me to realize I was the only one in control of my happiness. I had a lot of time to soul-search while I was … away. I’m a different person now. I really am.”

  “I believe that, Sarah. I really do. I see it in your eyes.” Slowly, I stood. “I came because I wanted to tell you that I have to turn this information over to the police. I didn’t want the news to blindside you.”

  Her face paled. “But I thought you understood! I didn’t hurt them on purpose! I’ve changed! Don’t you think I’ve been punished enough?”

  This was hard. So hard. “I think what you’ve been through is more than one person should ever bear. But for Maddie’s and Jake’s sake I need to make sure that you’ve really changed. I doubt after what you’ve been through the prosecutor will seek neglect charges, Sarah. They’ll probably assign a social worker to monitor the kids. You have every chance to prove not only to the kids—but to you too—that you’re going to be a different mother. A good mother. But here’s the thing. You have a lot of hard work in front of you. Work that goes a little deeper than making cookies. You’re going to need a lot of support from people who love you despite the mistakes you made. And perhaps the mistakes they’ve made.”

  She followed me to the front door. “You’re talking about my mother.”

  I turned the doorknob. “You want your kids to forgive you. Don’t you think you should set the example? Second chances are a precious gift.”

  “Maybe you’re right,” she said softly as a car pulled into the driveway.

  I stepped outside as Scott unbuckled the kids from their car seats. He smiled when he saw me, waved. The kids came running forward calling out, “Mommy, Mommy!”

  I looked at Sarah, saw the determination in her eyes, and hoped I wasn’t wrong.

  Leo had been watching for me. As soon as I pulled into his driveway, he opened his front door and waved me inside.

  “I’m afraid to get my hopes up,” he said once we were sitting in his living room.

  “Even if this doesn’t work, we’ll find her. It’s just a matter of time. Okay,” I said, wishing Preston had answered her phone. She was going to be hopping mad she missed this. I held out my hand. “Think of one of the letters you wrote her.”

  A small smile played on his face.

  I blushed. “You don’t need to tell me what’s in the letter.”

  “Darling, you’re too young to hear such things.” He placed his hand in mine. Images whirred by, taking me south, along the coast, across turquoise waters. To an island and a small waterfront house. Inside the house the letters sat in an old shoebox inside a closet.

  I pulled my hand back. Waiting for the dizziness to pass, I said, “Do you have a pen? Paper?”

  Leo dashed off.

  The vertigo had faded by the time he came back, thrusting the pen and a notepad at me. I wrote down the landmarks I’d seen, including the island’s name.

  I picked up my phone and called Sean. A few rings later, his voice mail kicked on. I hadn’t heard from him all day, not since that morning. I tried not to read too much into it, but I couldn’t help the flash of jealousy. But soon … soon, Cara and I would be on even ground.

  “Sean’s not answering. I’ll just call his brother, Sam.”

  “Something going on with that young man of yours?” Leo asked.

  “Nothing we can’t work out.”

  He nodded, his white eyebrows dipped in concern.

  I dialed Sam and he answered on the fourth ring. “I think I know where she is,” I said, watching the smile bloom across Leo’s face.

  “Lucy?”

  “Sorry. Yeah, it’s Lucy.”

  “You’re talking about Joanne Winston?”

  “I did a reading with Leo, using old love letters. I saw the letters in a house on an island in the Abacos.” I described everything I’d seen.

  “This is great, Lucy. I’ll get my contact right on it. It shouldn’t take long.”

  “It won’t take long,” I repeated to Leo. “Thanks, Sam.”

  Leo was looking at me as I hung up, a softness in his eyes. “Love can be complicated.”

  He was still talking about Sean. I smiled. “You know that better than anyone.”

  “I surely do. My best wishes to you.”

  “Thanks, Leo.”

  He kissed both my cheeks. “Call as soon as you hear anything.”

  “I promise.”

  “If you need me to talk some sense into that young man of yours, you let me know.”

  Laughing, I agreed to take him up on that offer if need be.

  But if my plan worked, there would be no need. No need at all.

  30

  My GPS smugly told me that I’d reached my destination. I glanced up at the stucco apartment building. Despite my side trips to the Loehmans’ house and to Leo’s, I was right on time.

  “Who is that with you?” my mother asked. “And why is Em living with Dovie?”

  “Long story about Em, and it’s my GPS, which I really need to give a name.”

  “Is that why you called me? To name your thingy-mahoo?”

  “Is that a technical term?”

  “Sassy!”

  “Do I need a reason to call?”

  “You’re after something. I can tell with your tone. How about Judie for the thingy? And where are you?”

  “I’d like to stick with my literary theme so Judie is out, and I’m at Cara Franklin’s apartment.”

  “Judie is literary. ‘Judy in Disguise With Glasses’ is one of the best songs ever written. Who’s this Cara? And you avoided my reference to you wanting something, so now I know you want something. You have my undying love. I’m
not sure what else you want from me.”

  “And you call me sassy? And a bespectacled Judy is not quite the literary reference I was going for.”

  “Snob. John Fred and His Playboy Band would be crushed.”

  I smiled, purposely avoiding answering her query about Cara. “I’m thinking along the lines of Rebecca, or Jo from Little Women.”

  “How about Scarlett from Gone with the Wind? Oh, oh, or Scout from To Kill a Mockingbird. One of your favorite novels, as I recall.”

  This was why I loved my mother so very much. I suddenly wondered if Sarah Loehman had contacted Faye yet. Or if she ever would. I hoped so. I truly believed that relationship could be rebuilt over time.

  “My GPS woman sounds too old to be Scout, so Scarlett it is. It fits. She definitely has a superiority attitude.”

  “And?”

  “And what?”

  “Why’d you call me, LucyD? Spit it out.”

  I drew in a deep breath. “I know you’ve had a few shocks this week, but can you handle another one?”

  “I took a Xanax earlier, so I should be good.”

  I rolled my eyes, shut off the car. “I might need to use some of my trust fund.”

  Not for Maggie O’Meara—not yet. But for something equally important.

  My mother gasped. “Lucy, why now?”

  I looked at the apartment building. “I have a war to win. I have to go.”

  “War? What war?”

  “Bye, Mum!” I snapped my phone closed.

  I tamped down any reservations, checked my watch to make sure I was still on time, and climbed the steps to the second floor. Scrounging up my faltering nerves, I quickly knocked on the door. I knew Sean wasn’t here—he’d returned my earlier call. He was done with Cara for the day and on his way to my place. To be with me. It bolstered courage.

  84 – 6 is …

  The door opened. Cara’s jaw dropped.

  “Hi,” I said. “Should you be answering the door? Shouldn’t you be in bed? Resting? Since you’re so sick and all?”

  “I—ah—no one else is here to answer it.”

  I barged right in. “Well, I’m here now.” I linked arms with her. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

  She wiggled free. “What’s this about? What are you doing here?” she demanded with a gravelly, sultry voice I immediately envied.

  “I came to see you, of course. Here.” I thrust a bag at her. “I brought presents.”

  Pretty blue eyes blinked rapidly at me as if not quite believing I was standing in front of her. She sat down on the couch, slowly opened the bag. “Magazines? Books?”

  “Keep digging.” I sat next to her. “The good stuff is at the bottom. Junk food. You know, to keep you busy during your leave of absence.”

  I glanced around, wished I hadn’t. Everywhere I looked were pictures of Sean and Cara together.

  She followed my gaze. “We’ve been together since senior year of college.”

  “Long time,” I said, not correcting her tense.

  “Yes.”

  “Why didn’t you get married?” I asked, knowing full well why. She’d all but deserted Sean as soon as he was well enough to care for himself after almost dying.

  “I, ah, he, ah, we … That’s none of your business.”

  “I think you’re wrong about that.”

  “Sean and I were fine until you came along.” She shook her head and her black hair shimmered in the light. “You just need to go away again.”

  “We both know that’s not true.”

  “Things change.” Her soulful eyes challenged me. “He seems to be spending a lot of time with me now.”

  “I’m not just walking away, Cara. I love him.”

  She snorted. “You can’t compete with me. And definitely not now that I’m sick. Sean’s going to be moving back in here soon enough.”

  “Why would he?”

  “To take care of me. It’s only a matter of time before he’s back in my bed again for good.”

  My jaw clenched. “I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

  “You can’t do anything about it. He’d never leave me here alone, not with all I have going on.”

  The doorbell rang. Right on time.

  “I’ll get that.” I jumped up. In the hallway, I smiled at the woman standing there. “Can you give us just another minute?” I left the door ajar.

  “Who’s that?” Cara asked.

  “Your nurse. There will be two of them, splitting staying with you around the clock to make sure your every need is met until you have a firm diagnosis, and if you are seriously ill, they’ll be staying on to help you out. If there’s something the nurses can’t provide, please let me know. I’ll see you get it.”

  “Oh no! No way. I don’t want a nurse.”

  “You don’t have a choice.”

  “The hell I don’t.”

  I opened my bag, dropped copies of the Handmaiden letters on the table. “No, you really don’t.”

  She slowly sank down into the couch. “H-how did you know I sent them?”

  “I’m psychic, remember?”

  “There’s no such thing.”

  “Then how did I know?”

  Her eyebrows dipped, she looked at me, opened her mouth, closed it again. I sat down, trying to be cool and calm. I’d never been good at bluffing. Or calling them, for that matter. “Personally, I don’t believe you’re sick. It was smart to pick a disease that’s nearly impossible to prove. But the letters … they were your big mistake. Because only another woman can truly understand why you mailed them. To hurt me, because you’re jealous. And because you’re so jealous I know you must want Sean back. But I have to wonder if your big ploy to get him back is worth going to jail?”

  “Jail! For what?”

  “Those letters fall under the stalking law, Cara.” I stood. “I just wanted to warn you before I went to the police. The investigation might take some time, which is why I hired the nurses, but I’m sure you’ll be proven guilty in the end.”

  She jumped up. “Wait!”

  “What?”

  “I’m sure we can work this out.”

  I picked up my bag. “I don’t think so.”

  She rocked on her heels. “You can send the nurse home. I’m not sick.”

  Sick might be in the eye of the beholder. “I’m glad to hear that.”

  “And if you don’t go to the police, I’ll leave Sean alone.”

  “You must really love him,” I said sarcastically.

  “The hospital cut my hours. It’s expensive living on my own. Not that you’d know about expensive. He’s a decent guy,” she said, shrugging. “He’ll take care of me.”

  I stared at her, in shock. “You mean to tell me you put Sean and me through this because of money?”

  “A girl’s got to do what a girl’s got to do.”

  “You’re right about that.” I headed to the door.

  “So you won’t go? To the police?” she asked, following after me.

  “I haven’t decided.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “But we had a deal. I can easily call off my end.” She put a hand to her forehead, pretended to swoon. “I might have to call Sean. I don’t feel so well.”

  “That’s because you’re not well,” I said. “And I think you’re only allowed one call from jail, so you might want to think about calling a lawyer instead.”

  “Sean won’t like that you threw his sick girlfriend in jail.”

  “We’ll see about that.”

  Furious eyes rested on me. “You won’t be able to prove a thing. I made sure my prints weren’t on the notes. There’s no DNA, no nothing.”

  I pulled open the door. “Did you get all that?”

  “Every word.” Marisol, dressed in scrubs, stood in the hallway with one of the thingy-mahoos (my mother would be proud) from Sean’s toy bag. She rewound and played back Cara’s confession.

  Cara let out a small scream and slammed the door on us.

&nb
sp; “She’s mad,” Marisol said.

  A crash came from inside the apartment. And another as Cara threw things around. “Only a little. Thanks for helping me out.”

  We walked down the steps. “I had a blast. Now I can see why people do this for a living.”

  “Don’t you remember being freezing in the car?”

  “Everyone has to suffer for their art.”

  I laughed. “You’re not planning to quit your job, are you?”

  “Never. But it’s been a nice side job. What would you have done if Cara hadn’t confessed? If she was really sick after all?”

  I appreciated that Marisol didn’t lecture me about keeping the letters secret. “Tap into my trust fund and call in some nurses.”

  Marisol whistled. “Are you going to let the police know?”

  “Probably not. I think I’ll let her worry about it for a while though. Stew. She deserves some sleepless nights. Payback.”

  “You’re going to have to tell Sean.”

  “Yeah.” I wasn’t looking forward to that conversation.

  “I don’t know what he saw in her anyway.”

  The cold stole my breath for a second. “Why? Because she’s self-absorbed, malicious, crazy, and did I mention crazy?”

  “No.” She unlocked her car door. “Because she’s nowhere near as pretty as you.”

  I smiled. Leave it to Marisol to tell me exactly what I wanted to hear.

  31

  Saturday afternoon the waiting area outside the security checkpoint at Logan was full of eager faces, waiting to be reunited with loved ones.

  “Staring at it won’t help,” I said to Leo as he watched the arrivals and departures board with an eagle eye.

  It was closing in on four o’clock. Joanne and Lea’s flight had been delayed three times already. If this kept up, I was going to be late for Dovie’s party. If I could get out of it without a year of guilt trips, I would. I yawned. I’d been up early, on a mission.

  Preston checked her watch for the fifth time in a minute.

  “They’ll hold the deadline for you,” I said.

  “Yeah, but I still have to write the piece.”

  “Of course. Because this is all about you.”

  “Go away,” she grumped.