Breaking the Rules

by Tinthia Clemant

“Relax,” Dee said. “I’ll keep you posted. He wants to have some work done to the place to get it ready. Do you want the job?”

  “I most certainly do.”

  “I don’t get it. You’ve never really explained why you hate each other so much. You two were thick as thieves when you were young. What happened?”

  Denise’s question was a fair one, but not something he planned on answering. “Thanks for telling me. I owe you.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that because I need a big favor. Jeff’s fortieth birthday is coming up, and I want to do something special for him.”

  “And what does that have to do with me?”

  “Well, I want to have a really big shindig: invite all the members of the lodge and half the town.”

  “I still don’t see what… No.” St. John shook his head. “Not going to happen. Find someplace else.”

  “But your property is a thousand times the size of mine. And you have that great beach.”

  St. John signaled for the check and asked for a container. Tonight, after practice, he’d build a fire, have a little bourbon, or maybe a lot, and enjoy the pie. “Are you going to eat your dessert?”

  Dee made a nasty expression with her face. “No.”

  “Fine.” He claimed her plate and set it next to his.

  “Come on, St. John. Say yes. There’s no place else in town.”

  “You mean no place else that’s free. Have it at the lodge.”

  “Do you have any idea how much they charge?”

  “I tell you what.” He removed his wallet from his pocket. “Book the damn thing at the lodge, and I’ll cover all the costs. Order a champagne fountain for all I care. Happy?”

  “Actually, yes, I am.”

  “Oh, I get it,” he said. “You were hoping I’d say that.”

  “I played you like a violin.”

  They both stood, and Dee walked around the table and hugged him. “I don’t care what people say about you—you’re a great guy. I gotta go. Thanks for lunch. Send me an estimate for the repairs for Meredith’s, and I’ll have Malcolm approve them.”

  “Will do,” St. John said. “Say hi to Jeff for me.” He waited as the pie was packaged and when given the container he handed Ben a fifty and two ten. “Thanks for everything, Ben,” He then sighed and walked out into the midday heat. The only good thing that had come out of the lunch was learning what Shannon had done, but he couldn’t even talk to her about it because she’d asked him to leave her alone, and he’d agreed.

  He should have stuck to his rules and stayed away from her, but there was no going back.

  Even if he could go back he wouldn’t change a thing. He’d do it all over again.

  He’d break every goddamn one of his rules to be with her.

  Chapter 25

  “No one saves us but ourselves.”

  Buddha

  Each morning, rain or shine, sleet or snow, Mr. Ron, the principal of Wexford Academy, greeted his charges as they disembarked busses or the endless line of mini-vans and SUVs. He knew each student’s name, their teacher’s names, along with the student’s academic standing and any extra-curricular activities the boy or girl enjoyed. At the close of the school day, Mr. Ron would return to his post by the flagpole and bid each child farewell along with tidbits of advice for staying out of trouble.

  This day was no different. Moments before the first dismissal bell, Mr. Ron strolled to his post, his partially bald head bobbing up and down as he greeted the waiting parents. A petite woman with long hair the color of corn silk followed, the pointed tip of her nose held high as she strutted past the other mothers. When Mr. Ron positioned himself under the flag, Leeann, two e’s-two n’s, claimed her spot to his left.

  Shannon parked where she always did, in the lower lot, and walked the incline to the school. She was heading for the stone bench off to the side, her and Chad’s meeting place when Mr. Ron called out to her and met her halfway.

  “How are you holding up, Shannon?” Mr. Ron’s narrow face held a worn expression, his kind eyes showing a measure of concern.

  “Hi Ron, I’m fine. How are you?”

  “I am well, a few personal things are happening, but I am more concerned about you.” Mr. Ron lowered his voice and bent her way. “I heard about your situation, and I am sad that you will be leaving Wexford. Rest assured Chad will be in good hands. I will make sure of it.”

  Shannon knitted her brows and asked, “I’m sorry, but what are you talking about?”

  The principal blinked rapidly and stammered, “Oh, I… Leeann told me—”

  A shrill ringing pierced the air, announcing the first round of dismissals. Mr. Ron smiled and returned to his post as the K through one classes began filing from the building.

  The question as to how the town’s height-challenged minion had learned about the divorce wasn’t hard to figure out. Justin must have stayed at the lodge. Shannon spied the smug smile heading her way and, not for the first time, she wished for some super cool power, as the witches had used in the old television show Charmed. Then the blond elf might not be so uppity when she realized she was a wart on a toad’s ass.

  “Mama.”

  A happy squeal came from the boy running her way. She bent and scooped him into her arms and kissed his face. “How was your day, munchkin?”

  “Can we get donuts?” Chad asked after quickly kissing her face. “I’m hungry.” He ran on. “Let’s go.”

  Shannon followed him and another boy with whom he’d joined hands. She’d hoped to speak to him about divorce in general before she and Justin broke the news. She’d even purchased a book at Barnes and Noble: The Three Bears Get a Divorce. Obviously, sharing their porridge with Goldilocks had been a sticking point, and Mama and Papa bear couldn’t get past it and ended up parting ways. Baby Bear spent weekends with his father. Even children’s stories weren’t safe from the harsh realities of the world.

  With a mouth full of chocolate donut, Chad sang as Shannon pulled into their driveway.

  She wiped powdered sugar off her fingers and pressed the garage door opener. And pressed the button again.

  And again.

  And again.

  She stared at the bay door still in its down position.

  And she pressed the button again.

  “What the…?”

  Chad unbuckled himself and stood behind her seat. “Mama, what’s wrong?”

  “The door won’t open.”

  “Can I try?”

  “Sure, here.” She handed him the remote. “Maybe you’ll have better luck than me.”

  Chad pushed his thumb against the yellow button. He kept pushing. “Mama. It’s broke.”

  “Actually, sweet pea, the correct word would be broken, and yes, I agree, it does seem to be broken. Maybe the battery is dead. Okay, let’s go use the keypad.”

  “Can I do it?”

  Chad ran ahead and stretched his arms. “Lift me, please.”

  Holding Chad under his bum, Shannon raised him high enough to reach the buttons. “Push six, two, and nine, and then hit enter.”

  Sticking his tongue out of the corner of his mouth, Chad pressed the buttons with careful precision.

  The triple bay door remained firmly in place.

  “It’s broke—I mean broken, Mama.”

  “I can see that.” Shannon returned him to the ground and re-pressed the numbers. “What the f…?” She swallowed the curse and settled for, “…heck is going on?”

  “What the heck?” Chad shouted, directing his frustration toward the door with a solid kick. Jasper barked, and Chad jumped up and pointed at the window. “Hurry, Mama. Jasper has to pee. And I do too.”

  “I’m coming,” Shannon called up to Jasper, whose response of increased barking got Chad hopping faster. “Relax, Chad,” she said and walked over to the door tucked under the breezeway. She inserted her key and twisted.

  And again.

  And again.

  “Okay, now I’m getting pissed.�
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  “I’m getting pissed.” Chad stomped on the driveway.

  She stepped back and stared up at Jasper, refusing to give credence to her new thought. Justin was a despicable man, but this would be a new low, even for him. “Chad, you go pee, and I’ll try the front door.”

  “But, Mama, there’s no toilet.”

  “Use a tree.”

  He willingly obliged and sang at the top of his lungs while he sprayed the tree bark with his urine. “You come pee too, Mama.”

  “I’m good.”

  Chad ran up the front steps as she was jiggling the key. “Is that key broken too, Mama?”

  “It seems so. Let’s try the Great Room door.”

  With Jasper following their movements by jumping from window to window, they circled around to the back.

  Chad ran ahead, raced up the deck stairs, and pulled on the sliding door, grunting with his effort. “It’s stuck.”

  “Let me try, honey.” She already knew it would be locked, but insanity was doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results, and she did feel like she was going insane, so… “Give me a frigging break.” She slapped the door handle.

  “Give me a friggin’ break.” Chad slapped the handle as well.

  “Chad, you don’t have to repeat everything I say.”

  “Are you mad, Mama?”

  He stared at her with wide eyes, and she opened her arms. “No, baby, but I am frustrated. May I have a hug?”

  “Okay, but no kisses.”

  “Fine.”

  They sat on the deck floor, her with her head down and Chad with his arms around her shoulders.

  “It’s okay, Mama. Maybe the key will work now.”

  “No, Chad, the key won’t work now. Let’s check the windows.”

  All were closed and locked; even the bulkhead was sealed tight.

  She stood on the grass and studied the house, her hands on her hips while chewing on her bottom lip.

  “Try the key again, Mama.”

  “No, honey, it won’t work. It’s time for Plan B.”

  That piqued Chad’s curiosity, and he perked up. “I’m a big boy. Can I help?” The faintest of lines formed between his brows, a common occurrence when the answer to a question eluded him. “Am I a big boy, Mama?”

  Shannon kissed the creased skin and smiled. “Yes, Chad, you are, and I’m proud to be your mama.” She hugged him tightly, taking the time to store the memory. Very soon she would need it. She didn’t know how or why, but she felt it as clearly as she was feeling him in her arms. “I love you, my child.”

  Chad freed himself and kissed her cheek. “I love you too, Mama. Can we do the B plan now?”

  “Sure thing, but first we need to go to the shed.” She took long strides over to the shed. Instead of the original keyed padlock, a new, super-sized combination lock hung from the door.

  “Fuck.”

  “Mama, you swore.”

  “Yes, sweetie, but I don’t want to hear you swear, got it?”

  “Can I swear when I’m old like you?”

  “Yes, you may. Plan B is a bust. Let’s move on to Plan C.”

  “Yay, I love plan C.”

  Jasper had grown silent, but at seeing them moving, his barking resumed.

  “Keep your panties on, Jasper. I’m doing the best I can.” She thought her voice had been too low for Chad to hear. No such luck.

  “Keep your panties on, keep your panties on,” Chad repeated as he raced ahead of her in the direction of the garage.

  She selected a large rock from her lily garden and stared at the multi-paned window of the side door that also led into the garage. The problem? Her aim sucked.

  “Stand back, Chad.” She threw the rock at the glass panel closest to the deadbolt and watched it bounce off the door frame. “Shit.”

  “Shit.” Chad ran and collected the rock. “I want to try, Mama.”

  “Go ahead, but stop repeating everything I say, okay?” She tapped the pane she wanted broken. “Aim for this one, right here. Can you do that? Stand back, so the glass doesn’t get on you.”

  Chad wound up like a pro pitcher for the Red Sox and sent the rock spiraling toward the door and through the glass.

  “I did it.” He jumped, waving his arms over his head. “Wait till I tell Coach John. I bet I get a trophy.”

  Shannon high-fived his hands and said, “Definitely. If he doesn’t give you one, I will.” She reached in and unbolted the door. To her relief, Justin hadn’t change the inside lock to the house or the alarm code.

  “Shouldn’t have gotten lazy, Justin,” she muttered. “Snooze, you lose.”

  She took Jasper out and, after returning him to the house, opened the bay door and parked her car. She went back into the kitchen. “Chad, go upstairs and change into pants and your baseball T-shirt. You have practice tonight.”

  “But, Mama, Aquanauts are on TV.”

  “Chandler Baldos, now.”

  He came barreling out of the Great Room and danced up the stairs to a bouncy tune about baseball.

  Proudly serving Wexford for over twenty years. That was the slogan printed in blue across the top of the Jay’s Lock and Load receipt sitting on the counter under a set of new keys. Justin had paid a pretty penny for the prompt replacement of all the door locks, the garage door opener, and the lock on the shed.

  Two could play this game. She used her phone, did a quick Internet search, and called a company in Hampstead. She next phoned Dee.

  “Hi, can you take Chad to practice? I’m in the middle of something.”

  “Sure thing. You sound stressed. What’s going on?”

  Shannon offered a shortened version and ended with, “I have to wait for the locksmith.”

  “Do you need anything?”

  “Courage.”

  “Don’t have any. See ya soon.”

  “Thanks.”

  She placed a third call and soon had a newly coded alarm system. While she waited for the locksmith, she entered the garage, a broom and dustpan in hand, and cleaned up the broken glass. She found a piece of plywood in the basement and was in the process of a attaching it over the broken window when a yellow van entered the driveway. Her bill would surpass what Justin had paid, but no bother. When she’d dropped off the scones that morning, she’d told Jimbo about the divorce, and he’d offered some advice, which she’d taken.

  It was a shame Justin hadn’t gotten to the bank first.

  Chapter 26

  “When one door closes another one opens.”

  Helen Keller

  Nineteen-thousand, fifty-five dollars, and twelve cents remained of the initial twenty-two-thousand she’d removed from the joint checking account. The money lay safely in a new private account in a Manchester bank, solely under her name. She hadn’t planned on spending a small fortune on the new locks, but if they kept Justin out, they’d be worth every stinking penny.

  She told herself she hadn’t stolen the money and that she’d deduct it from the amount Justin would pay to buy out her ownership in the house.

  She checked the time. Six-fifty-nine. If Justin was coming home, he would arrive soon. Racing up the stairs, she entered the guest room and dug two suitcases out of the closet. To one she added Justin’s socks, underwear, shorts, T-shirts, a sweatshirt, and a pair of jeans. Into the other suitcase, she tossed a couple of suits, hangers included, button-down shirts, dress slacks, and a stack of polo tops. Crumpling up several ties, she shoved those against the inside edge and topped off the pile with a pair of dirty sneakers.

  In the nightstand drawer, she found a box of extra-large condoms. “Yeah, in your dreams.” She contemplated poking holes in the foil packs but changed her mind. Even she wouldn’t stoop that low. However, she could put a curse all of them, something that involved a latex allergy.

  “Too much work,” she sighed and inserted the box.

  When she opened the bottom drawer, her heart stopped. She’d never held a high opinion of Justin, but
this brought him to a whole new level of stupidity. She knew next to nothing about guns but was damn sure they needed to be kept away from curious six-year-olds. What was he doing with a gun, anyway? She reached in and took hold of the handle. Pointing the gun toward the floor, she carried it to the master bedroom and placed it in a shoe box before hiding it in the linen closet. Tomorrow she’d ask someone for help. St. John would know how to use a gun. He’d been raised in the wilds of New Hampshire; he’d probably killed his first moose before he’d finished teething. Or Jimbo. Bikers owned guns. Nearly everyone in the State owned a gun; they were easier to get than toilet paper. But for right now, it was safely out of Chad’s reach, and that was the important part of the equation.

  She ran back to the guest room, opened the window overlooking the driveway, and removed the screen. The first suitcase traveled without incident but split upon hitting the pavement. The second suitcase opened mid-flight. Oh, well. She must have forgotten to zipper it all the way around.

  The glint of sunlight on chrome caught her eye, and she glanced at the street. She raced down the steps to the kitchen and snatched her keys and cell phone and placed a call to the Wexford police. She repeated what the lawyer in the YouTube video had instructed. After ending the call, she clipped on Jasper’s leash, ran through the garage, and opened the side door, closing and locking it behind them.

  Justin stood by his car, staring at his clothes, and then he looked at her. “What the fuck is all this?”

  What she was doing stretched the fibers of her already thin courage, but she’d taken the plunge; it was time to see if she remembered how to swim. She folded her arms and indicated the suitcases. “Take your shit and leave.”

  “The fuck I will.”

  He walked calmly to the door and tried his key in the lock. Then he faced her again. “I have to say, Shannon, you’re more resourceful than I gave you credit for. Normally you would have crawled in to a ball and waited for someone to figure things out for you. Now that you’ve made your point, open the fucking door.”

  She paid no attention to the shaking in her legs and in a surprisingly steady voice said, “I told you to leave. I’m not going to say it again.”