by Devney Perry
“Who?”
“Alex Benson. Guy who got that beating last month.”
“Oh, right. John Doe. Why did you have to close the case? Did you find out who beat him up?”
“Nope. He never did give Sam anything else to go on. Kept tight-lipped and then left town the day he got released from the hospital. I kept the file open a week in case someone came forward but decided today it was dead. Marked it unsolved and pulled Sam from digging. Not that he was finding much anyway.”
“Sorry,” I said.
He shrugged. “Nothing else to do. Need Sam working on other shit. It just sucks. I fucking hate not solving a case. It gnaws at me. Up until this summer, I was on a streak. Two years of a hundred percent closed cases.”
“Mommy?” Rowen called, interrupting our conversation.
“Kitchen!”
She came rushing through the door, carrying Captain Lewis in her arms.
“Mommy—”
“Rowen, you get that kitten outside. They don’t come in the house. We’ve talked about this.”
“But—”
“No. Outside now.”
“Fine,” she pouted and stormed her little feet down the hallway.
Shaking my head, I told Jess, “She has been a terror since I picked her up from Quail Hollow this afternoon. We’re doing an early bedtime.”
He pushed away from the counter and fitted his big body to my back, wrapping his arms around me and leaning in to whisper in my ear.
“That means we get extra time tonight. Maybe try something other than kissing on the couch.”
My whole body shivered as he lightly kissed my neck in that hidden spot just behind my ear. I was never going to leave my hair down again. I wanted him to have full access to that spot at any time.
“I can think of a few things we could do,” I whispered.
Rowen’s footsteps sounded in the hall as she headed toward the kitchen once again.
“Mommy. Can I—” She stared at Jess holding me for a second and then her eyes darted to the countertop. “What are we eating?”
“Stir-fry.”
“No! I don’t like stir-fry!” she shouted. “Can I have chicken nuggets? Please?”
I shifted out of Jess’s hold. “No, Roe. I’m making dinner for us and we’re all going to eat the same thing. You can have chicken nuggets for lunch tomorrow at school.”
“No! I want them now! I don’t want to eat stir-fry!”
“Rowen Grace Ellars! Stop that yelling,” I said, using my mom voice. “That is enough attitude, young lady. You can either go straight to bed without dinner or stop yelling at me and eat stir-fry with us. Now what’s it going to be?”
She screwed her lips together in a scowl and looked down at her feet. Her arms crossed over her chest as she let out an angry “humph.”
“Well? What’s your choice?”
“Dinner,” she muttered.
“Good choice,” I said. “Now why don’t you help Jess set the table. He can carry the plates and you can put out the silverware.”
We ate dinner in near silence because Rowen was pouting and didn’t pepper us with her typical myriad of questions. Jess and I didn’t have much to say either so we focused on eating. Rowen’s bad mood had infected the atmosphere.
After clearing the dishes, I ordered Rowen to say good night to her kittens but then come back inside.
My jaw was clenched as she stomped down the hall. Tonight my sweet, chatty, curious daughter was nowhere to be found. In her place was a little brat.
“Sorry about Roe.”
“No big deal, Freckles. She’s a kid. They’re allowed to be grumpy now and again.”
“Thanks.” I was grateful he was so patient with my girl.
An hour later, bath time was done and I was walking down the hall to Roe’s room.
“Rowen, time for bed, baby girl. Did you lay out your clothes for the recital tomorrow?”
I came to an abrupt halt the second I stepped inside her door. The floor was covered with a mountain of clothes. Sweaters, dresses, pants, skirts and shirts covered the floor. Clothes that I had once painstakingly hung up in her closet or folded nicely in her dresser.
“What is going—”
I stopped my question when a frustrated scream came from the closet and its last remaining article came flying through the air.
“Rowen. Get your bum out here.”
She emerged from the closet and stomped over clothes to the center of the room.
“This mess is not okay. What is going on?” I asked.
“I can’t find my pink fluffy skirt anywhere! I wanted to wear it to the recital!” Her eyes flooded and her chin quivered.
“What pink fluffy skirt?” I asked, even though I was certain I knew which one she was talking about. And if I was right, we were on the verge of a meltdown.
“The pink one with the shiny silver dots and the poufy skirt.”
My little super volcano was about to blow.
Eff.
“The one that Papa Ben gave you?” I asked.
“Yes!” she cried. “I want to wear it for my recital.” Her chest heaved with a spastic breath.
I stepped further into the room, walking over strewn clothes, to kneel down in front of her. What I was about to tell her wasn’t going to be fun.
“Baby girl, that skirt was really small. Ben got it for you when you were three. Now you’re four and a big girl. It didn’t fit you anymore so I had to give it away to the Salvation Army with all of your other three-year-old clothes.”
“Nooooo!” she screamed before collapsing in a fit of sobs.
I wrapped my arms around her in a tight hug, gently stroking her back as she cried.
This wasn’t about the skirt, this was about Ben.
She broke away to yell at me. “Ben gave that skirt to me, Mommy. Why did you throw it away? I need it back! He gave it to me! Get it back!”
I tried to pull her close again but she wasn’t having it. She started squirming and pushing away with her little arms.
“I’m so sorry, Roe. I gave it away last year. It’s all gone and I can’t get it back,” I said.
“I want my Papa Ben!” she shrieked. Then her little body collapsed again into mine as she wailed uncontrollably.
I held onto her tightly, sitting on the floor and cradling her in my lap. She sobbed and sobbed and it broke my heart. But all I could do was hold her close and rock her back and forth. I couldn’t bear to see my girl so devastated and heartbroken. The sounds coming from her little body were so full of pain that I started crying too.
We sat there bawling together until two big arms circled us both, lifting us off the floor.
Jess carried us to my bed, setting me and Rowen down gently before sliding in behind us. Then he wrapped us up again in his arms, giving us his strength and his warmth. I burrowed into his side while Roe clung to my chest, still sobbing.
After a while, I managed to get my own tears under control and started whispering to the top of Roe’s head, encouraging her to try and stop her own.
When she was finally cried out, she stayed tight in my lap. Her cheek was resting against my heart and she was looking over my shoulder to Jess.
“You okay, little bit?”
She nodded and sniffled.
“How about you, Freckles?”
“I’m okay.”
He lifted a hand to the side of Roe’s face. His big hand engulfed her tiny jaw as he gently stroked his thumb across her cheek, drying her tears.
“Don’t cry, Roe,” he told her.
“I miss my Papa Ben,” she said, crying again. “Mommy said he was in heaven with Gramma and the angels.”
“I’m sure he is,” Jess said, catching the new tears.
I didn’t know how to ease her pain. To explain death in a better way. And I didn’t know how to get her through this tough period. She was so young and innocent, and Ben had been such a big part of her life. All I could do was hold her close and remin
d her how much I loved her.
“Want to know how I knew Ben?” Jess asked.
“Yeah,” Roe nodded.
“When I was a kid, I didn’t have a dad around the house.”
“Kind of like me?” Roe asked.
“Yep. But my mom isn’t like your mom. Your mom is strong. Takes great care of you. My mom, well, she was sick a lot so I had to take care of her. Big job for a little kid. One day I was walking home from the store with my arms full of grocery bags. It started snowing and I had a long way to go. A truck pulled up beside me, and Ben got out. He made me put the bags in the back and he drove me home.”
“He did?” she asked.
“Yep.”
“How old were you?” I asked.
He thought about it for a couple of seconds. “Nine.”
I winced. We hadn’t talked about his family yet but I couldn’t believe he’d had to take on such responsibilities. Nine-year-old kids shouldn’t be shopping for groceries. Sooner rather than later I needed to ask about his parents.
“Ben never let me walk to the store again. Picked me up from school every Wednesday and took me to the store. Then drove me home,” Jess said.
“Mommy always went to the grocery store for Ben,” Rowen told him.
Jess smiled. “Glad she could help him out.”
“What else did you guys do?” Roe asked.
“Well . . . he let me come over here after school a lot. Let me help him mow the grass or work on projects. Taught me a lot of stuff. How to use tools. How to fix his truck. He came to my football games. Sometimes practices too.”
“What else?” Roe asked.
“He took me fishing.”
“He did?”
“Yep. Same place we went. It was his favorite spot. Said it was where he caught his biggest fish.”
“Really?”
“Yep,” he said. “What kind of stuff did you do with Ben?”
“He read me books. And we’d color crowns. He built my dolls block houses so they had a place to sleep,” she said.
“Sounds like fun,” Jess said.
We stayed quiet for a little while longer, enjoying the comfort of being wrapped tightly together in my soft bed. Then we all went downstairs to play with the kitties before bed.
“Those girl kittens need names,” I said.
While Rowen was toying with her pets, I was reclined on the porch swing, enjoying the view of the beautiful sunset.
Jess was sitting on the floor, the kittens between his long legs stretched wide. Rowen was perched by his feet, their makeshift blockade keeping the kittens from escaping.
“How about flower names?” Roe asked.
“I like it. Which flowers?”
“Can you tell me some flower names?”
“Well . . . there’s Rose, Iris, Lily, Peony.”
“Rhododendron,” Jess added.
“Row-da-nen-drum?” Roe giggled. “That’s funny. What else?”
“Delphinium,” he said.
She giggled again. Music to my ears, making my smile bigger.
“Del-if-ni-um? What else?”
“Chrysanthemum.”
Roe belly-laughed and collapsed against the floor. “Chris-thee-mum?”
My eyes met Jess’s. The huge smile on my face matched his, while Roe’s laughter filled the air.
Bliss.
“Thank you,” I mouthed.
He didn’t respond. My heart skipped when his smile just got bigger.
“Okay, little bit. Which ones are you gonna pick?”
“Hmm . . .” she said, taking a moment to get her laughter under control. “I think Rose and Peony.”
“Excellent choices,” I said. “What about the mom cat?”
“Jess, can you pick a name?” Rowen asked.
He stared for a moment, then rumbled, “Mrs. Fieldman.”
I laughed at the same time Rowen asked, “Mrs. Fieldman?”
“Yeah. After my fifth grade teacher,” he said.
“Was she your favorite teacher?” I asked.
“Nope. But she looked just like that cat.”
“You’re funny, Jess,” Rowen said through her giggles.
She went back to playing with the kittens and I resumed my appreciation of the evening’s sunset.
“Jess?” Roe called.
“Yeah?”
“Can you come to my recital tomorrow?”
“Sure.”
She turned her eyes to me and smiled huge.
We were going to be okay. Soaking up her smile, I was certain it was true. Someday the sting of losing Ben wouldn’t hurt so much. I would always be sad Mom and Ben couldn’t be with us to watch Rowen grow up, but the hurt would subside.
“Georgia, you want to pick me up at the station?” Jess asked.
“Sure. The recital starts at six. I’ll get Roe at five, buzz back here to get changed and then come get you around five-thirty. Is that okay?”
“Sounds good.”
“Why do you always call Mommy ‘Georgia’ instead of ‘Gigi’ like everybody else?” Rowen asked.
I’d noticed his preference for my full name but hadn’t asked him why.
His eyes sparkled as they traveled from her to me. “Because behind Rowen, Georgia is the most beautiful name I’ve ever heard.”
Never in my life had a man said something so kind and wonderful to me and my daughter.
Another warm wave of happy coursed through my body and settled in my heart.
“You’ve reached Jess Cleary. If this is an emergency, call 9-1-1. You can also try me at the sheriff’s office. Otherwise, leave a message.”
“Jess,” I clipped. “I just got off the phone with Ryan. He said you’ve already paid him to tear down the barn, and that since they’ve started, they can’t stop. It would be too dangerous leaving it partially up. Then he informed me that he’s got the plans drafted for the new garage his crew will be starting next week. Of course, I told him that under no circumstances is he allowed to start that project, seeing as I had no idea what he was talking about. But too late. You’ve already signed the contract and paid the deposit.”
I sucked in some air. “When I told him I was the property owner, not you, he said something about precedence and you being the long-term caretaker and having done projects there in the past, blah, blah, blah. He’s basically being a coward and doesn’t want to back out on the contract and piss you off. Oh, and then he informed me that if I was having a conflict with the caretaker, I should file an official complaint with the sheriff’s office.”
Another breath and I continued with my ranting message. “This is not okay, Jess. You can’t make these decisions without discussing them with me first. So, Sheriff, you can take this as my official complaint. You can also find new plans for the evening because I’m telling Maisy she doesn’t need to bother coming over to babysit Roe.”
I hung up the phone and let out a frustrated growl.
It was the Friday following Roe’s recital, and I was sitting in the staff lounge at the hospital.
Correction. I was seething in the staff lounge.
“Ah, Gigi? Are you okay?” Maisy asked from behind me.
“No. I’m not. But good news for you, you’re off the hook to have a sleepover with Rowen tonight.”
She took the chair across from me.
The staff lounge was a small, square, colorless room with no windows.
I hadn’t spent much time in the lounge. I think most of the hospital staff felt the room was as depressing as I did, because it was almost always empty. People would swing in to grab some coffee or stow a packed meal in the fridge, but then they tended to find somewhere else to spend their time.
I didn’t want an audience for my phone call so I had come into the lounge, thinking it was my safest bet. But with the way my day was going, I wasn’t entirely surprised that alone time wasn’t in the cards. I should have gone to my car.
“Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m just
so . . . so . . . pissed off!” My hands were fisted and shaking.
“I take it you and Jess are fighting?”
“Oh yeah, we’re fighting.”
“What happened?” she asked.
I huffed out a breath. “Well, you know about the incident last Saturday with the devil creature.”
She nodded.
“On Saturday, he and Silas killed said devil creature, so I was thinking we were all good, right?”
She nodded again.
“Wrong. This morning, right before I was leaving, three trucks and a semi-truck carrying a huge Dumpster arrived at my house. Apparently, Jess hired this Ryan guy to come tear down my barn.”
“Ryan Edwards. Like, the nicest guy ever,” she said.
“Yes, he did seem nice. Whatever. That’s beside the point. Jess didn’t even discuss this with me. He just made a decision. No communication. To hell with what I wanted,” I said, flicking my wrist in the air.
“That sucks. Did you like the barn?” she asked.
“Of course not. I was going to have that thing torn down myself. But the point here is he didn’t communicate anything with me. I hate having someone make decisions for me. I’m not a child. It is my house and it should have been my choice. I could have arranged to have that thing taken down without his effing help!”
“So what did Jess say when you told him all that?”
“Well, when I called to give him a piece of my mind, he didn’t answer. So I’ve now left two rather irate voicemails on his phone. The first one telling him I was pissed and why. The second, well . . .”
“Sorry, Gigi,” she said.
“It’s okay. Thanks for letting me vent. Rant over.”
“Anytime,” she said.
“Distract me. Tell me what’s new with you. Take my mind off this whole barn business.”
“Well . . . I was actually coming to find you because I’ve got the best news ever!” She squirmed in her chair. “So you know how I took that extra evening shift last night?”
I nodded.
“Well, Dr. Carlson was working late too. It was so slow. Like, the slowest night ever. I only had two patients on the second floor and the rest of the units were empty. So after the patients fell asleep, I didn’t have anything to do. I was sitting at the nurses’ station upstairs, bored out of my mind, and he came over to talk to me for hours! Until the end of my shift.”