by Lisa Bork
The lines were clearly drawn.
Ray and I took the seats opposite her. She waited until we were seated to resume her chair. She met my gaze. “I’m sorry.”
My throat swelled shut.
Ray clasped my hand where it rested on the table. “I know you spoke to the sheriff at length this morning, but we haven’t heard your whole story yet. Can you share it with us?”
She nodded. “I met William at the ski resort. He came onto me. I didn’t have anywhere to go, so when he offered me a job, I took it. We dated.” She shrugged. “He was nice to me. Then I met Abigail and realized he was married.”
She blushed. “I kept on dating him anyway, but I made friends with her, too. I just didn’t tell her about him and me. Then ski season ended. I had to move on and get another job. I figured it was all over anyway.
“I worked at a motel for a few months, cleaning rooms, but then I started getting sick from the smell of the cleaning stuff. At least, I thought so.” She stared at the table for a moment then went on. “It took me about a month to realize I was pregnant. Then I panicked. I didn’t know what to do. I thought William should at least support the baby. So I hitched a ride and went to see him at his house. He wasn’t home, but Abigail was. I told her about the baby.” Heather swallowed and made a face as though she’d eaten something spoiled. “Abigail told me about the other girls.
“I went over to the water park to talk to William. He said everything would be fine. He said he’d take care of me. He said he’d leave his wife. He said to wait for him at the bar on the corner near his house.”
She sighed. “I waited for hours. The place closed. Finally I called his house. Abigail answered. She said her mother was asleep and William wasn’t home yet. She offered to come meet me.
“I met her in the parking lot. She invited me back to her house. She said we should tell her mother everything. We started walking toward her house. Then a car started up by the parking lot. It came fast. Abigail looked back, saw him coming and pushed me aside. He hit her dead on.”
Heather cupped her face in her hands. We waited in silence until she gathered herself to finish the story.
It took a few minutes before she raised her face from her hands and continued. “I didn’t know what to do. I started toward her and he got out of the car. When I saw him, I panicked and ran. He said, ‘You better run or I’ll kill you, too, and the little bastard.’
“I ran. I ran all the way to the grocery store clear on the other side of town. When I got there, I realized I’d picked up Abigail’s purse with mine from the road. My stomach was cramping. I thought I was going to lose the baby. So I asked a trucker parked outside the store if he’d take me as far as he was going. He was only going to Wachobe, but I figured that might be far enough.”
Heather stared at the table, appearing to gather her thoughts. She took a deep breath and continued.
“I got a cheap motel room with the money from Abigail’s purse. I watched the news and read the newspapers for a week. After two days, they didn’t talk about it anymore. The police never figured out it was William. Nobody ever mentioned Abigail’s purse was missing. I was too scared to go back and tell the police the truth.
“When I entered the karaoke contest in Wachobe, I shaved my head and used Abigail’s name, like a tribute to her or something. Then I met Theo. I didn’t want to explain why I had used a dead girl’s name. I just sort of became Abigail Bryce.”
Heather glanced at Ray. “Maybe I wanted to get caught. I don’t know. I was afraid to go to the police. I thought they might arrest me for leaving the scene and withholding evidence, not to mention stealing Abigail’s purse and identity. But I felt guilty that I didn’t tell them the truth about Abigail’s death. I was really confused, about the baby, about William, about what to do. It was just easier to do nothing.”
She shifted her eyes to me. “But the day you chased us out of the racetrack, I got separated from Theo in the parking lot. He fell and he told me to keep running, to meet him at the car. I couldn’t remember where we parked. I kept running up and down the aisles, and I couldn’t find it.” She spread her hands wide and a little of the panic she must have felt that day returned to her eyes.
“Then I smacked into William. He recognized me. He grabbed my arm and started dragging me. Theo came. They fought. William grabbed a beer bottle from the ground and the next thing I knew, Theo was bleeding. I heard running. William pushed the bottle into my hand and said, ‘I know where your baby lives. If you talk, your baby’s dead.’”
I felt sorry for her, I really did. She’d made a lot of bad choices and lost people she cared about, who had cared for her in return. Abigail Bryce was dead. Theodore Tibble was dead. I’m sure Heather had suffered, too, but she was still here. I held onto the tiniest glimmer of hope that she might leave Noelle with us.
Ray squeezed my hand. “So what happens now?”
She brushed her hand over the lapels of her suit. “I’m going to be charged with something, Catherine’s sure of that. I may get out on bail, but I’m a flight risk.” Her lips turned up ever so slightly as though she realized the irony of that. “Today the judge is going to ask me about Noelle.”
I tensed.
Ray seemed impervious. “What are you going to tell him?”
“I’m going to say I made mistakes. That I was afraid, but I tried to act in the best interest of my baby. That’s why I gave Noelle to you.”
I dared to hope.
Heather leaned back in her chair as though to put some distance between us. “But now I want a fresh start. I want my sister Karen to get custody of Noelle, so maybe I can be with her too, eventually. My sister’s husband is a minister. He said God believes in giving people second chances. I want my second chance.”
Noelle had been Ray’s and my second chance. If she was taken from us now, where would we be without her? Why did we have to lose the baby we’d come to think of as our own? This girl wasn’t equipped to handle a baby alone. And her sister and father hadn’t taken the right care of her. Why else would she have run away from home in the first place? These people were not the best thing for Noelle. Noelle belonged with us.
Without a word, I stood and walked out of the room. After a second, Ray followed.
____
I shared all my earlier thoughts and more when the judge gave me a chance to speak. A lot of tears were shed, and not just by me. Heather and her sister cried for themselves, and for me. I could tell. It didn’t make me like them any better. They were trying to take my baby away.
When the state’s attorney asked me about my sister, I knew it was over. Being her surrogate mother all these years didn’t make me look like June Cleaver, nor did the final image of my sister shooting “her boyfriend” to death in my living room make her look like good aunt material.
Ray did us proud when he took his turn on the stand. He appeared calm, competent, and totally in charge of the situation. But I saw his cheek twitch once or twice, especially when the state’s attorney asked him about the man he’d shot to death last year in order to save my life.
The judge said many words at the close of the hearing. I don’t remember them. I do remember the gist.
Karen won.
By ten o’clock that night, I had run out of tears. Ray undressed me for bed like a baby, slid a nightshirt over my head, and climbed in next to me, spooning.
We’d spent hours at home with Greg Doran and Catherine, brainstorming ways to get Noelle back. Neither one of them held out much hope, but they let us talk until we ran out of words, more friends than lawyers.
Catherine hugged us both before she left. “You guys deserve better than this.”
Greg apologized. “I never should have let Heather leave the baby with you in the first place. It was very slipshod lawyering.”
Ray had shaken his head. “We were lucky to have Noelle, even for such a short time. It’s not your fault.”
Now he murmured in my ear, “It’ll be all right, d
arlin’.”
I didn’t answer him. It would never be all right. Noelle was gone. My chest ached. My head throbbed. I couldn’t stop crying. I felt as though she’d died. We were alone and childless. Another child could never replace her. And now the one thing my husband had most wanted to have, a child, was the one thing I never wanted to risk my heart on again.
I must have slept, because when I opened my eyes, it was morning. Sunlight streamed in through the bedroom blinds we’d forgotten to close the night before.
The clock read eight a.m. When I turned over, Ray was no longer beside me. Erica was there instead.
“Ray went to work. I think he’s hoping he’ll find someone to beat into submission today.”
I knew him better than that, although he would find solace in just doing his job. I rolled over to face her. “How did you get here?”
“He called and asked me to come. He said you didn’t hate me.”
I studied her blue eyes, which had filled with tears. “I don’t hate you. It’s not your fault.”
“I never should have tried to arrange the adoption. I should have known Heather was hiding something more than the father’s name. I messed everything up.”
I repeated Ray’s words. “We were lucky to have Noelle for as long as we did.”
Erica lifted her head off the pillow and rested on her elbow. “How can you say that? This whole thing sucks.”
What else could I say? My baby was gone. My tears began to flow again.
“Oh, Jo.” Erica gathered me into her arms and held me. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”
She stayed with me all day.
Early in the day, she tried to convince me to get out of bed and take a shower. I pulled the sheet over my head. She tried to feed me lunch. I wasn’t hungry. She tried to talk with me. I was too tired. She offered to share her anti-depression medication with me. I declined, for the time being. She ended up lying beside me and taking a nap.
Ray came home at five. He climbed in next to me and spooned, stroking my thighs. “What do you want me to make you for dinner?”
“Nothing.”
“You want takeout?”
“I’m not hungry.” I wiggled out of his arms. “I just want to sleep. I’m so tired.”
He flopped over onto his back and lay still for a few minutes. “I’m here when you’re ready.” He rolled off the bed. I heard his feet pad down the hall, then the television in the living room.
I wondered what Noelle was doing now. Was she eating? Was she wondering where we were? Was she afraid of these strangers who were her aunt and uncle and her grandfather?
Or worse, had she forgotten us already? How attached could a child be at seven months? As long as she was fed, changed, and cuddled, she’d be happy. In a few weeks, she’d forget about us entirely. When she learned to say ‘Mama’ for the first time, she would be calling someone other than me.
I closed my eyes and let the warm tears soak my pillow.
The next morning I found Isabelle in bed next to me. She was sitting up with her back against the headboard.
“How long have you been here?”
“Since eight o’clock.”
I looked at the clock. It read ten-fifteen.
Isabelle yanked on the covers, trying to pull them off me. “Come on, you have to get up, at least to pee.”
I’d peed in the middle of the night. Some things in life must go on, no matter what. I’d stumbled into the bathroom and cried into a towel for a while last night, trying not to wake Ray. Then I’d taken care of business. “In awhile, I’m fine for now.”
Isabelle frowned. “I don’t like seeing you like this.”
“Then leave.” But I smiled to try to lessen the blow.
She folded her arms. “You’re not going to get rid of me that easily.”
“I hope not.” I rolled away from her. “I need to sleep.”
“Don’t you want to call the shop? Don’t you want to talk to Cory?”
Cory. He must still hate me. He hadn’t called. He hadn’t shown up. Maybe he didn’t even work for me anymore. Maybe he’d left me, too.
I couldn’t bring myself to share another of my failures with Isabelle. Maybe she’d leave me.
Instead, she stayed with me all day, alternately cajoling and threatening. I felt loved, but not the least bit inclined to eat or get out of bed. Why bother? And I was just too sleepy.
When the mantel clock chimed six o’clock, I opened my eyes to find Ray in a chair next to my side of the bed. “Do you want to hear the rest of the story about Dave Barclay?”
I flopped on my back, which had begun to ache from too much time in bed. “Sure.”
“Turns out Kim’s grandfather was the one who took everything in the divorce, except for the Datsun. The racehorses belonged to the ex-wife’s family, and he stole them from her in the divorce settlement. He forgot about the Datsun until it was too late.”
“But now he has everything.”
“He’s dead. He died yesterday.”
“And they plan to bury him in the Datsun?”
“No.”
This was a surprise. All our scheming and now the man wasn’t even going to be buried in the car. “Why not?”
“Cory was really ticked at you Monday. Barclay showed up to pay for the Datsun with a personal check, and Cory accepted it, even though he knew your policy was bank checks only. Anyway, Barclay’s check bounced. Cory freaked, called Gumby, and they went to visit him. It was right after we brought him in for questioning. He gave the car back.”
The good news was Cory apparently still worked for me. The bad, he still hated me. And it only got worse. “So now I own a Datsun racecar?”
Ray held up his hands as if to say “wait.” “No. Cory went to Chautauqua to see Sylvia Wilder a day later and told her the truth, apologized, and offered to sell the car back to her. She didn’t want it, but she gave him the name of another guy who did.”
Relief coursed through me. At least my business wasn’t a total failure like my personal life. “Why would she do that? I would think she’d be furious with us for the charade.”
“She was too excited. She has her three race horses back.”
Another surprise. “How’d she get those?”
Ray smiled. “Barclay is looking at a lot of legal fees. Apparently, he’s been playing fast and loose with not only the gaming commission but also the IRS, which served him a couple months ago for tax evasion. He needed to sell the horses, and Sylvia Wilder had the money to buy them.”
No wonder Kim Barclay had the permanent pinch to her lips. She and her husband were cooked. “Sylvia used the money we gave her for the car?”
“That helped. The horses are worth a little more than that.”
At least I didn’t have to wonder anymore if losing Noelle was punishment for tricking Mrs. Wilder into selling us the Datsun. Things had turned out all right for her. She must have good karma, unlike me.
Ray stood. “Get up. I brought Chinese home for dinner.”
I managed to roll out of bed, freshen up, and follow him to the kitchen table. But when I saw Noelle’s empty highchair, I burst into tears. Ray pulled me into his arms. “I put everything of Noelle’s in her room for now. I guess I missed that.”
I sobbed into his shoulder. “It’s all my fault.”
He pulled back and looked at me. “How do you figure that?”
“I refused to have a baby with you. I let my sister run around trying to arrange an adoption for us instead of making sure she was in the psych center the way she should have been. I let her believe Mom still talks to her from the beyond. That’s who told her to get Noelle for us, you know.”
He sat me in a chair. “Jolene, you’ve got to snap out of this. It’s nobody’s fault. It just happened. Noelle wasn’t meant to be with us any longer; that’s all.”
“Didn’t you love her?”
His cheek twitched. “I loved her. I still love her. I miss her. But I miss you, too. We hav
e to go on.”
I opened my mouth to ask why he still wanted to go on with me when he no longer had the child that brought us back together. I didn’t have the strength to ask him. I just sat at the table and ate a little of the food he placed in front of me. Then I climbed back into bed.
I stayed there all the next day. Erica sat with me most of the day, watching game shows on the television in the bedroom. The drone of the shows almost drowned out my thoughts, all of which swirled around Noelle. Sweet, adorable, kissable, lovable Noelle.
Later that day, long after Erica had gone into work, someone climbed onto Ray’s side of the bed. I figured it had to be Ray.
“Hi, Jo.”
Tears filled my eyes. This time they were tears of joy. I rolled over. “Cory!”
He grabbed my hand. “I’m so sorry about Noelle.”
I nodded, my throat swollen once again. I managed to whisper “I’m sorry about Mark, too.”
He made a face that said “That’s life.” “You know the worst part about losing someone you love?”
The heartbreak? The loneliness? The guilt? The never-ending what-ifs and if-only? The knowledge that your heart’s desire remained forever out of reach? “What?”
“It’s not having your best friend to comfort you.”
I squeezed his hand. “Do you want to talk about Mark?”
“Not really. Do you want to talk about Noelle?”
I shook my head.
We must have fallen asleep holding hands, because the next time I woke, the clock read ten and Ray was standing over us. “I see Cory’s here.”
“Yes.” Even I heard the hint of happiness in my voice.
He sighed, a resigned sort of sigh. “I’ll sleep on the couch tonight, but don’t ever tell the guys at work that Cory slept in my bed, okay?”
“Deal. Thank you.”
Ray tiptoed across the room.
“Ray?”
He stopped and turned back. “Yes?”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too, Jolene.”