His face became grave, his eyebrows joined, and his lips tightened. “Em, if you ever feel someone is following or watching you then you should notify somebody. Maybe Mary’s instincts were correct? Promise me you’ll be more alert.”
“Don’t be silly. We were inside the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum for heaven’s sake. It wasn’t like we were in Baghdad dodging random gunfire. But if it makes you feel any better, Aunt Mary always carries a makeshift weapon in her handbag, which is a lethal weapon itself. She is armed with a can of Rave extra hold hairspray and is always at the ready to spray someone. Trust me, the fumes alone would choke any assailant and the spray would blind them. For good measure, she has the alarm thingy on her belt that will deafen anyone when it’s activated. One evening we were having dinner. She was in a heated argument with Jude and he refused to back down. Mistake. Big mistake. Huge mistake. She let that thing rip, and we couldn’t find Lucy for two hours. Even she ran off to avoid the noise.”
Well, that brought a rumble of laughter and seemed to entertain him.
“Anyway, thanks for offering. I should hit the road. So, we’ll talk later. Okay?” I added.
“Go, go! Get that rebel before some extremist group finds out about her and makes her their leader.” He chuckled. He thought that was amusing, but I could see that happening.
I grabbed my belongings and headed south in my car toward Boston to pick her up for our four-day visit. It was possible I could kill two birds with one stone by arranging to meet with the bank manager while I was retrieving Aunt Mary. But if she wasn’t in the best of shape, it would end up a regrettable error in judgment. My curiosity was piqued, and I was slightly concerned that my personal information was used to obtain a safe deposit box. If indeed that was true. Regardless, I needed to speak with the bank manager. If she was in good shape tomorrow, she could come with me. If not, I’d call Stacey, the home health aide, and ask her to take care of Mary for a few hours.
My thoughts drifted back to my eliminated position at the university. I had no student loans or debt, but no savings to speak of either. Maybe I should chuck it all, move to a remote lumber town in the Rockies and pick up a job as a waitress in a diner there. It would be nice if my only concern was to keep my uniform clean and footwear sparkling. Everyone would know my name, and I would remember everybody’s order.
But what would I do with Aunt Mary? How would I make enough money to continue her necessary care? Guilt overcame me for placing Aunt Mary in the facility that specialized in patients with memory issues. She should live with me. However, over the past few years, her dim moments outweighed her clear moments. And add to that, Jude was unaccepting of her behavior and had made it clear she was only welcome to stay for three or four days at a time. Preferably when he was out of town, but no longer than that for any reason.
Starbucks came into sight. Thank God. I maneuvered my car into a narrow parking space in front of the building, then shimmied between the cars and made my way toward the crowded entrance.
I steered clear of people as they left the crowded store and made it inside to join the line as it snaked around the barriers in front of the counter. After I ordered and had my venti vanilla latte firmly in my grasp, I headed for the exit. Walking through groups of teenagers and toddlers, I had almost maneuvered my way out when a well-dressed man bumped into me. He reached and pulled me in to steady me as I tipped and almost dumped my coffee on him. Reflexively, I jerked back from his grasp which garnered a questioning look from him.
“Personal space,” I couldn’t help but grumble, annoyed.
He apologized. With my coffee and his fine coat still intact, I nodded and left as a strange feeling clawed after me.
I jumped into my car and was on my way to pick up Aunt Mary once again. I arrived early, parked, and allowed myself a moment to collect my thoughts and take a few sips of coffee.
I didn’t like the place that I called home for Aunt Mary. For some reason, it made me edgy. The geometrical, sharp-edged, steel frame of the building made it look like the exoskeleton of some futuristic being. It was too modern for me, too exposed, and nowhere near cozy. Some million-dollar government study concluded sunlight through the translucent windows uplifted the residents’ spirits, so every available surface leading to the outside was a sheet of glass.
Parking was a breeze, so score one for me. I strolled the few feet to the wide glass door entrance. After pressing the bell, I beamed into the camera and was at once buzzed into the building.
I approached the desk and affixed a fake smile on my face. There was no need to transfer my troubles onto others.
Maura, a woman with the most flawless mocha skin, looked up and smiled back as I drew near.
“Good afternoon, Maura. How are you? I’m ready to pick up Aunt Mary. I hope we have a routine trip back.” I placed both hands palm down on the desk bracing for the worst.
“Well, you are in luck today, she is razor sharp. Her reaction to the new drug is better than expected. We had a minor incident with her earlier, but nothing of great concern,” Maura said leaning close so no one would hear.
My heart rate picked up a measure waiting for the shoe to fall. “Dare I ask?”
“No, no. Nothing to be anxious about, really. Everything is cool. Mary, bless her heart, had shared a book with Mr. Selven who is hard of hearing and blind as a bat. And truth be told, quarrelsome. We kept an eye on them, and as she read they appeared to enjoy their time together. The next thing we know Mary had slammed the book closed and bolted from her chair. Next, we see Mr. S on the edge of his seat ready to fall off, pointing his finger aimlessly around in the air. Then the uproar began, and all I could make out was something about a pig.”
“Oh, God. That’s unusual for Aunt Mary to provoke someone. I’m sorry for her conduct.” Shaking my head with an eye roll would be inappropriate, so I didn’t say or do anything else in reaction.
“No worries, we got it all quieted down. Who knew a book called Animal Farm could be such a pot stirrer? I assumed it was a children’s book like the Charlotte spider book or Winnie the Pooh. Why would grownups need to read something like that, anyway? But live and let live.”
I nodded and added, “Oh, Maura, I am sorry for her outburst. When I was growing up, Aunt Mary read that book Animal Farm by George Orwell to me,” I remarked as she seemed to be bewildered. “It’s difficult to explain. It’s a political parody, mocking society. We’ll chat about it on the way home. I’ll remind her to be aware political talk can evoke emotions in people and make things uncomfortable. Is there anything else?” I asked, unsure if there were any other events that would blindside me.
“No, all’s good.” She grinned back. “The new drug is working like a miracle.”
I regularly brought baked goods for the staff when I showed up, but this week I was off my game for obvious reasons to me. As I was about to make up an excuse for no baked goods, I saw Aunt Mary make the short journey across the lobby. She pulled one piece of luggage behind her for her four-day visit with me, struggling a bit, but she finally made it to me. We kissed each other in greeting, said goodbye to the staff, and went outside to the parking area.
We walked side by side silently to the car. I unlocked the passenger door for her and lifted a hand to help her climb into the seat, not a good idea. For my trouble, she gave me the evil eye as if to say I’ve got this, move along. “I’m not that decrepit that I can’t lift myself into a seat.”
I walked around to my side of the car and sat in the driver’s seat. As I turned the ignition switch, I thought this would be a good time to discuss her behavior. It would either help to start the trip with the air cleared, or turn it to hell because she hates confrontation about her behavior. Either way, the gesture would be a crap shoot.
“Seems you were hell-bent to create an uproar discussing Animal Farm today. Really?”
Her head snapped back, and she leveled a solemn look upon me. Stone cold. A weaker woman would have shivered at the sight.
“When Napoleon sold Boxer to the glue factory, I could tell that bastard Selven was all set to take up for the little turd. So, I had to set him straight.” She shrugged.
My eyes crinkled, and I giggled, she knew I agreed wholeheartedly when it came to Napoleon. “Yeah, I get you. But how about a less controversial manifesto next time? We can pick up some James Patterson or Dan Brown novels to take back,” I suggested.
“Right, like religion or an apocalyptic virus won’t invite spirited conversations,” she suggested using air quotes.
“James Patterson, it is,” I countered.
I was satisfied we’d cleared the air and that there would be no attempted escapes today, so we proceeded. If we took the highway, it would save an hour. But, the last time I hit bumper-to-bumper traffic leaving Boston, Aunt Mary had come perilously close to starting a traffic riot. Aside from her getaway, experience dictated that once she worked herself up, and on a roll, there was no holding her back.
No, this outcome was excellent. The rolled-down window allowed a gentle breeze to move through her wavy silver hair. She seemed delighted with the smell of fresh cut grass and scenery. Her peaceful state reminded me of our adventurous summer trip we took together to Europe after I finished high school. It was the best trip ever with no regrets. We had been a pair, continually lost that summer, and we didn’t care. I remembered how much I love this old woman. When I moved out of Jude’s house and didn’t have Jude denying her a permanent home, I’d move her back in with me.
An hour into the journey, the constant tapping of her thumbs against her huge black bag she had in her lap alerted me she was ready for a verbal battle. Now what?
“So, what’s up with dickhead?” And there it was. She had to bring up Jude. Now I was on the defensive and easy prey for her interrogation tactics.
“Um, salty language, Aunt Mary,” I said, scolding her as a diversion. But not compelling enough to secure a change of subject.
“Seriously, Emmie Lou? That’s the best you got? I’m disappointed.” She turned her head toward the window and stared at the scenery rushing by.
I slowed down for the slow-as-molasses truck ahead of us, and then pressed down on the gas with a little too much gusto to pass him. I shifted all my concentration to my car as if I was hurling around the Indianapolis racetrack at two hundred miles an hour to escape further questions. No such luck. Aunt Mary turned to stare at me again. As I eased up on the gas and slowed my pace, I felt my shoulders tighten and lift upward. When I fiddled with my ring, she knew she had me.
“Well then. Let’s parade this elephant out in the open.” I turned my head to the right to establish eye contact with her. “I’ve spoken to an attorney about terminating our domestic partnership agreement and filing the termination documents with the court after I speak to him when he returns from his trip to Boston. I’m leaving Jude. A few weeks ago, I brought up our future, and he told me about a vasectomy he had last year when Eloise and I took that trip to Rome. It was the final nail in the coffin. He can have everything. I am confident that will be agreeable to him.” I felt tears spring up and fought them back.
“Stop right there!”
Thinking she expected me to stop right there without hesitation, I jerked the car to the side of the roadway.
“What the hell are you doing?” she shouted.
“You said to stop.” I couldn’t hold back anymore. The tears poured, and sobbing was not far behind. I put the car in park, turned the hazard lights on, and turned off the ignition.
I heard the jangle of the seat belt as she unbuckled it and turned my head to see her slide toward me and reach to offer me an embrace.
“Emmie, that man is not right in the head.” Aunt Mary placed her hands on my cheeks and brought our foreheads together. “Please look at me and listen. You have so very much to give. That bastard has preyed on your fear of abandonment and exploited your goodness. I am done with him. I’ve given him enough time to come around to being a normal human being. Now we have to take some decisive action. We can stop at Walmart, get a shovel and some Hefty lawn and leaf bags, a tarp and bags of lime. Or we pack up the car and U-Haul and hit the road.” Was she joking? This was her master plan? I was not one for drama but today was a really bad day and now I was either going to wail to the point of dry heaves or follow Aunt Mary into the realm of her inappropriate dry humor.
“I feel lost without any sense of purpose, Aunt Mary. My head feels empty, and at the same time, it’s ready to explode.” All I could do was sob as my stomach twisted.
“Enough crying. If you aren’t comfortable with murder, I can think a little harder on a less harsh solution. That cursed man does not deserve your trust and love. He did exactly what your mother did to you. He turned your sweet nature against you to doubt your self-worth, and for that I despise him.”
“I love you so much, Aunt Mary. I’m sorry to unload this on you. I was hoping for fun and relaxation this weekend.” I rubbed my face with the back of my hand as I struggled to make sense of my terrible conduct.
“I’m in a chaotic downturn with too many things to deal with at once. It’s too long to explain right now but tomorrow I have to run back to Boston to take care of a problem which has nothing to do with me. And please don’t make me go down this road right now because explaining it to you will only confuse the hell out of you and leave two confused people to meet some police waiting for me,” I said as I gathered myself together to continue back home.
“Police? Hot diggity, now we’re talking. Will there be an arrest?”
“God, no. Police are waiting at my house to take a statement from me about a possible identity theft which resulted in someone opening a damn safe deposit box in my name. Like I said, a conversation for later. Perhaps we can put this conversation on hold then when I have my wits about me again, we can argue about murder versus my other choices. I’ve got a lot to think about including vacating Jude’s house as soon as our termination of the domestic partnership is filed. He’s been gone without any word so I am just twisting in the wind here. So, can you cut me some slack? Would that work for you?” My eyes pleaded with her to agree.
“Forget the U-Haul. Let’s pick up Lucy and Sigmund and just hit the road. You can pack a suitcase. Mine’s in the trunk already. We’ll go out on the lam.” Her body became charged with electricity, and her eyes lit up as she shared her new plan with me.
I giggled. All in all, it was a good plan and worth considering. “Well, the one detail in what you’ve suggested is that one must be an outlaw to be on the lam. However, you might be onto something. We’ll see.”
“There you go, that’s the ticket. Let’s see if there is a cruise we can book for the Caribbean,” she reflected.
“I have a long weekend, not a week,” I reminded her.
“Okay, the Bahamas,” she replied as a compromise.
“I could agree to a road trip to Manhattan and maybe hit Broadway and museums.”
“Sold!” Aunt Mary said as she clapped her hands in front of her.
I turned the car back on and set a path to my home in Maine.
We settled into the lull of the tires speeding along the road, and she nodded off for a nap. Once we left the short span of interstate, she woke and asked about supper. I reminded her the police were waiting for me at the house to take a report, so we decided on Chinese delivery. I punched in the speed dial for Song’s Garden and placed our order.
My car almost knew its way home without much navigation on my part. Driving up the secluded street I lived on, I turned into the long driveway that led to the circular end. I spotted an official-looking brown sedan outside the garage. Two men in suits leaned against it. One appeared to be sending a text on his cell phone as we pulled up.
“Those must be the officers for the statement,” I remarked as my eyes swept their way. Aunt Mary bent forward for a better view. “The one on the left side with the gray and brown scruff is handsome—worth a double look,” she said pleased, and wink
ed.
“Look, I just want to answer their few questions and complete my duty to cooperate. I don’t want you using this opportunity to discuss bingo night, Mrs. Bowen sneaking into Mr. Chezwick’s room, or the fact you can’t get a decent prime rib dinner at the facility. I’m certain this won’t be long so for the love of God don’t you be the one to prolong it,” I instructed.
“I don’t know. Let’s see where this takes us,” she said all too mischievously. “BBC has not picked up another season of Sherlock so I have to keep my skills honed somehow.”
Great. Just great.
Emma
THE DETECTIVES APPROACHED THE CAR and introduced themselves.
The one who appeared to be in charge reached out a slightly rough-skinned hand to greet me. “I’m Detective Nick Marino. This is my partner, Detective Paul Chavez. I understand you are expecting us.”
As Detective Marino assessed and scrutinized me, I studied him right back. He appeared about forty. His hair was dark and spiky—doubtless from a wax-based product—and it suited him. A likely once broken nose gave his rugged face character. Tall, athletic, in great shape. I bet he gave any criminal that was stupid enough to flee a run for their money.
I decided I didn’t like him, and he hadn’t opened his mouth yet.
“Yes, please come in. I ordered supper from the car for Aunt Mary, and it should be here soon,” I pointed out. “I trust this won’t take long.”
“I can’t commit to that just yet. But the sooner we begin, the faster we’ll finish,” he remarked in a no-nonsense tone.
“All right. Well, please step this way.” I entered the six-digit code on the alarm keypad and then rested my chin on the plate in front of the keypad until my eye was scanned. When the red light changed to green, I unlocked the two locks on the door to enter.
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