by C. E. Case
"Your Honor, can I have a minute to confer with my client?"
"You can."
Natalie sat down.
"I don't want a trial," Luis said.
"You don't?"
"Why aren't they just letting me go? Isn't that what this hearing is for?"
"That's what the last one was for. Luis, they're not going to let you go."
"It was an accident!"
A murmur went through the courtroom. Probably at the parents. Luis was breathing hard. He thought everyone was on the same page with this. At least, him and Natalie.
"Everyone knows it was an accident," Natalie said. Her voice was calm. She put her hand on his shoulder.
But the exchange he just witnessed belied that. "But--"
"It's just whether or not the accident could have been prevented. That's what the trial sorts out."
Luis rubbed his jaw. "Of course it was. If those bitches hadn't cut me off, then--" He couldn't help his voice from rising.
Natalie clamped down on his arm. "Luis. What's rule number one?"
"Don't speak."
She nodded and squeezed his arm. "Of course it was an accident."
He shrugged.
She glanced at the judge, and then stood. "We're ready, Your Honor. Three weeks on Tuesday is good for us."
The judge banged his gavel.
Despite the weeks in jail, the police reports Natalie showed him, the photographs of the two girls, his car--Despite his days being cotton trousers and card games with gangbangers in for pot and coke--he only now, with the sound of wood slamming into wood, felt his life crashing down around him.
"I don't want a trial," he said, knowing he was almost begging.
Natalie stood at his side, holding onto his shoulder until the spots began to recede from his vision.
#
Meredith woke to pounding at her door, and then it flung open and a horde came through into the tiny cell. She reached for a weapon but of course she had none. She held up The Boxcar Children to defend herself from the blows landing on her. Her worst nightmare, every time she was alone in this room, finally realized.
Blows landed. Like rain. Like pillows. And then kisses on her face. Her shoulders. The light was too dim to make out faces but she smelled Siba. And then Robin's distinctive leafiness. Burdette's bleached bone aspects.
Then another nightmare came to her. Maybe this was an orgy. She pushed at them, starting to pray.
"It's your last day," Burdette said against her ear.
She'd been so close. The parole granted, strings pulled, all set.
Jacqui, standing near the doorway, laughed. "So we got you a cake."
Meredith lowered the book. She tried a small smile.
In the dimness, five women smiled back.
"A cake?"
"What are you going to do when you get out of here, Merry?"
"She's going to buy a better Bible."
"I'm never going to turn back," she said.
Burdette snorted. "Good for you."
# #
Chapter Fifty-Four
Meredith did look back, peering at the prison buildings rising above the fence. Natalie leaned against the station wagon, waiting for her. Meredith took a moment. She needed this space and distance from prison to car. She gazed up at the sky.
The sun beat down.
Natalie was the destination. She took another step. She felt lighter. She suddenly wanted to run. She wanted to cry.
She shifted her bundle in her arms and walked swiftly, grinning so much her face hurt. Natalie opened the backseat and Meredith tossed in her stuff, and then turned to Natalie. A foot separated them.
"Do you want to drive?" Natalie held up the car keys.
"Do I want?"
"Do you want to drive?"
Meredith smiled. "Yes. Yes, I do." She hugged Natalie. "I want everything," she said, as Natalie encircled her waist.
"Okay."
"Natalie." Meredith squeezed her tighter. "You smell good."
"It's cinnamon."
Meredith buried her nose in Natalie's neck.
"I stopped and got cider. And stuff. On the way up."
"Natalie." Meredith loosened her grip. "I want to drive."
"Yup."
Meredith stepped back and Natalie opened the driver's side door and then leaned over the door as Meredith settled in. "And," Meredith said.
Natalie raised her eyebrows.
"I'm never kissing you in front of a prison again."
#
Meredith pulled into her own driveway. She stared at her house. Natalie didn't move. She'd been quiet and tense most of the drive and Meredith didn't question her. She'd had a lot to process and was glad to be left alone with her thoughts.
Remembering how to drive took up her first half hour of concentration. Then it was autumn leaves and open highway all the way down until Goldsboro. Then it was shaded groves and stoplights.
Meredith stared.
A red late-model Camry was in the driveway. "Whose car?"
"Daniel's. He picked the kids up from school today. They're inside. He won't be staying."
"He can."
"But he's not."
Meredith turned off the car. "I'm nervous."
"I understand."
Meredith unbuckled her seatbelt and turned to face Natalie. "Can you, uh."
Natalie met her eyes, unbuckling her seatbelt, too.
"Can you... closer..."
Natalie leaned closer.
"Kiss me?" Meredith asked.
Natalie nodded.
Meredith covered the remaining distance and kissed waiting lips. She closed her eyes. Natalie's mouth dragged across hers, and then puckered to kiss the corner of her mouth.
"Thank you," Meredith said.
"Want to go inside?"
Meredith considered.
"Or, want to kiss me again?"
"Definitely."
Natalie leaned in.
"But inside." Meredith got out of the car.
Natalie rolled back against the seat, smiling.
"Mommy!" Beau ran from the front door. Merritt lingered with Daniel, shy. Natalie got out of the car and went the porch and took his hand.
"Is she here?" Merritt asked.
"She is. She isn't leaving again."
Meredith knelt, hugging Beau to her, and waved Merritt over. He went.
Daniel kissed Natalie's cheek, picked up Suriya's carrier, and went to his car.
"Wait--" Meredith started.
Daniel waved. "Later."
Meredith kissed her children, tears streaming down her face. Their nearness and warmth contrasted with the cold day, with the cement under her knees--her driveway, her house--and she clung to them, fearing only that she might squeeze them too tightly. She wanted Natalie closer and she didn't want to move.
"Natalie."
"I'll wait."
"Boys, can we go inside?"
They each took one of her hands and pulled her toward the door. Inside she smelled pizza.
"It just came!" Beau said. "We waited until Natalie called us from the road and then Daniel got it." They ran into the kitchen. Plates scraped. The refrigerator slammed.
"You got pizza?" Meredith asked as Natalie closed the door.
"It's a special occasion."
"We can't afford pizza."
"We don't have it every night."
"Is Daniel buying dinners? Because--"
"Merry, can we not fight about money your first night home? Just for tonight? Tomorrow you can yell at me all you want."
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, it's just--"
"Weird?"
Meredith nodded and went into the kitchen. The kids laid out four plates, each with an identical portion of pizza. Two slices, cut narrowly. Four glasses of water were arranged in the vague vicinity of the plates. The smell of mozzarella was intoxicating. Her mouth watered. She glanced into the living room.
Too clean. The coffee table had moved and the TV tilted
just slightly. She frowned.
"Tomorrow?" Natalie asked.
Meredith closed her eyes. "It's going to be a big adjustment."
"For all of us."
"Sit down, Mommy," Beau said. He looked triumphant as he waved her into the chair at the head of the table.
She sat and glanced up at Natalie.
Natalie squeezed her shoulders.
"Are you going to sit down, Nat?" Merritt asked.
"In a minute. Go ahead."
Merritt bowed his head.
Meredith bowed hers, peeking at Beau out of the corner of her eye. She covered Natalie's hand on her shoulder.
"Thank you, God, for mommy. Thank you so much!" Merritt said. "And thank you for the pizza. And Natalie. And... Beau."
Beau didn’t bow his head, but he watched Merritt, and mouthed "Amen" when Merritt said it.
"Amen," Meredith said.
Natalie kissed her hair.
Meredith tugged her lower and said in her ear, "All right, all right. Some things might have changed for the better."
Natalie kissed her temple. "Eat your pizza."
#
Meredith dozed on the couch. The boys were on the floor, wrapped in blankets, watching Cinderella. Merritt said he liked the mice, but she knew he liked the ball scenes, too. Beau liked the witch. Meredith held Natalie's hand, leaning against her shoulder. The pizza had been exquisitely warm and rich and full of flavors she hadn't tasted in months. So unlike the pizza at prison it was criminal.
Criminal.
She smiled. Then yawned. "We should go to bed."
The thought scared her. She felt like she was in this bubble of love and pizza and Disney, and if she left it, she might end up back in prison. "I don't know if I can sleep."
"No?"
"The noises are all different. The people are all different."
The kitchen behind them was where she killed Vincent. She didn't want to think about it, wasn't trying to, but after so long away the house felt foreign. She was trying to reattach herself.
Natalie shifted, putting her feet up on the coffee table, pulling Meredith back into her arms.
"Natalie."
"Shssh. You get the inside."
Meredith glanced at the boys. Beau leaned back against the couch, his eyes drooping. Merritt was still riveted by the screen.
"When I first moved here," Natalie said, her voice low and calm.
Meredith squirmed, settling on her side, her head on Natalie's chest.
"You told me the boys often slept out here. They liked it best."
Meredith nodded.
Natalie stroked her hair. "This is the family room."
Meredith closed her eyes. She couldn't sleep, but if she listened to Natalie's heartbeat and felt Natalie's arms around her, she could almost be happy.
"Natalie," she said.
"Hm?" Natalie stroked her back, then along her side.
"I love you."
"I love you, too."
"Tomorrow, we need to talk about how much TV the boys are watching."
"Tomorrow. We have all the time in the world to negotiate a settlement."
Meredith slapped Natalie's stomach.
Beau crawled onto the couch and sandwiched himself along Meredith's legs. "Can I stay here?"
"Yes, Beau," Meredith said.
"We've got you trapped. Is this like prison?" Natalie asked.
Meredith tilted her head to kiss Natalie. "No."
# #
Chapter Fifty-Five
Meredith changed into scrubs and pinned her hair back. She wore her old scrubs, the ones that didn't fit anymore. She had a new locker, along the bottom row, eight across from her old one. She'd gone right to her regular spot, hesitating only when she noticed the masking tape reading "Rachel."
Masking tape on her new locker read "Merry" in Magic Marker so fresh she could smell the ink.
Inside she'd found a single cupcake in a small bakery box. Otherwise, there was no special party, no hooplah, just the hospital as normal, with a few of her letters posted to the staff bulletin boards along with advertisements for cheesecake and free kittens and warnings about hand washing.
She stuck her picture in the locker liner. Natalie and the boys in the kitchen. Natalie was leaning against the sink and the boys sitting on the counter on either side of her. If Meredith had been there, she would never have allowed it. She would have been too afraid the boys would fall. But Jake had been there to take the picture and to put them back together.
Natalie wanted real portraits. Real department store, formal suit, fake background portraits. But Meredith had done those with Vincent to send around on the annual Christmas cards to show they were a real family. She preferred the snapshots.
"Hey, you made it," Angel said, coming into the locker room in his street clothes.
"I couldn't wait."
Angel grinned as he dumped his stuff in the locker and took out his scrubs. "I'll show you the ropes. We'll work the same shift for a few days, until you get the hang of it. And then you get the nights."
"Woohoo."
"Do you have a schedule?"
"We'll work it out." She hoped. Underemployment was better than no job at all, and this job, hours or not, was better than Wal-Mart. In Tarpley, she'd be unhireable as a home care nurse, even if it was what she wanted to do. For now, seeing her children a few hours a day would feel like a blessing for a long time. She didn't need more.
Angel pulled on his shirt and made sure his crucifix wasn't showing. "Okay, chica, I know you know where most things are, but let me show you the dark recesses where the nurses fear to tread."
"I'm ready."
"To clean up shit? And other hazardous bodily fluids? To take crap from doctors, patients, and nurses? Oh, you ain't ready. But you will be."
"Can't touch the drugs, can't heal the patients. It'll be just like prison." She spoke with bravado, because it wasn't actually true, and Angel nodded in response, but there was a glint in his eyes like he didn't believe her. People probably wouldn't believe her about anything for a while.
"You'll have to tell me what's worse, Merry. Being a convict or an ex-convict."
"So far, no comparison"
Angel showed her the bed rotation, gave her the patient list, and offered to supervise her first sheets and gown changeout.
"I think I've got it," she said.
"Okay. You're starting with the worst patient on the block. I mean--"
"You don't have to change your lingo for me, Angel."
He nodded. "Anyway. It's all downhill from here."
She pushed open the door. "Hi, Mr. Cranston, ready for your bath?"
A string of curses greeted her.
Angel gave her the thumbs up.
She grinned. She was back.
#
Meredith ate lunch with Wheeler on her second day back at work, when things were starting to feel normal. The tiny cafeteria--a break room with a register--served them whatever the patients were eating, so they settled in for fried eggs and toast and marmalade.
"How's everything, Merry?" Wheeler asked.
"Fine."
He rubbed his jaw and frowned. "How's Natalie?"
"Fine?"
Wheeler took another bite of toast.
Meredith ate in silence, trying to figure out why he'd asked. "You spent a lot of time with her, right?" she asked.
"Dinner once a week. Technically you saw her more."
She nodded. "What was she like?"
"What was she like? Natalie-ish. You know."
Meredith pushed at her plate. "I'm not sure."
"You're not sure? She's the same girl who's been visiting you for months. Things don't change just because--"
"Of course they do. Of course they do. It's tense. It's wonderful, but it's tense. I don't know what to do."
Wheeler tilted his head.
"So why don't you tell me what you invited me to lunch to tell me," Meredith asked.
"Since when ar
e you so perceptive, Merrycakes?"
"I've been in therapy for half a year. People have tells."
"I don't have a tell."
She took his hand. "It's written all over your face."
"I like Nat," he said.
"But?"
"No buts. Don't screw it up, Merry."
Meredith exhaled.
"You trusted her with your children. Don't you trust her with the easy part too?"
"I don't know if--"
"She was strong for you. She took care of you. Every day she held it together. She kept everyone fed and distracted and she walked when it hurt to walk and didn't run back to Charlotte. She had faith, Merry. Not in that part, she hated that part. In this part."
"And I'm grateful. Hank, I don't know what to say to her. I don't know how to say thank you. It feels inadequate, and overwhelming, and like, trite. I can't think of a way to repay her."
He squeezed her hand. "Take care of her. That's all. The way she took care of you."
"She's been running everything without me. She doesn't need me to take care of things."
"Maybe she doesn't need you to. But she wants you to. I'm sure there are some things she wants to give up. Not everything. But you have to share."
Meredith gazed sadly at her eggs.
Wheeler shook her hand. "Merry, remember who you are. Be nurturing, for crying out loud."
"What if she--"
"She's not that complicated a woman. Hug her."
#
Meredith paced. She didn't want to pace, but she couldn't keep still, not with that woman sitting on her couch, eating cookies Beau and Merritt baked for her. Like she belonged. That--
That social worker.
Natalie shifted pensively and unhappily, sitting on the couch.
Rebecca introduced herself, had been friendly, obviously used to a warmer reception. Meredith tried, but her skin crawled. And now Rebecca had her job information, and her prison records, and she felt utterly exposed.
"Will we lose the food stamps?" Natalie asked.
Meredith froze.
"Don't think so. Not until the guardianship transfers back, which is in process, but it'll take a few months to sort out, since you're still living here and all."
"I'm back. We don't need the food stamps anymore," Meredith said.
Natalie winced.
"I'm sure it's been helping--" Rebecca started.
"We don't need them."
Natalie beckoned and Meredith sat down next to her. Not touching.
"I want them," Natalie said.