She brought her phone into the bedroom and placed it on Adam’s nightstand. The sight of the bed they had shared seemed unbearably forlorn. Hannah sat down on the edge, partly so that she would not have to look at it any more.
She set out the pills that she needed to take and crawled under the covers. She picked up her book but it fell from her hands almost at once. Before she even had a chance to turn the bedside lamp off, she fell into a fitful, troubled sleep which felt, nonetheless, as if she had been sedated. Every noise woke her, and she would lie there unable to move, groggy and frightened, her heart pounding. And then sleep would tackle and subdue her again. But the feeling of fear and anxiety never left, not even in her dreams. When dawn’s light crept through the windows she opened her eyes, as tired as if she had been doing battle all night. Her limbs were leaden under the covers. She had made it through the first night, although the night had seemed like a thousand hours.
This is not going to work, she thought, as she blinked her eyes against the day. This is not possible. If she tried to keep this up she would become like a sleep-deprived rat in an experiment. She was afraid to go out of the house and afraid to stay there. Hell, she was afraid to get out of the bed. She could feel depression weighing on her chest, and a combination of fear and futility that was like a cocktail guaranteed to induce paralysis.
More than anything, she wished that she could talk to Adam. But she had to face the consequences herself. If she called him, and told him how she felt, he would turn around and come running back. And that was not possible. He and Sydney needed to keep going. They needed to get far enough away. And she needed to find a way to deal with her situation.
For a while, she lay there, thinking, turning over her terrible options in her mind. She knew that sooner or later she was going to have to face Lisa’s wrath and accusations and, most likely, her dangerous intentions. After all, Lisa had already tried to kill her once. Sitting here waiting for the next attempt was unbearable. If it was going to happen, why not just face it? Bring it about and take the consequences. Anything would be better than this hellish uncertainty, this constant fear and trepidation. Hannah crawled out of bed and put on her bathrobe and a warm pair of socks. She picked up her phone from the nightstand, and sat down on the edge of the bed.
She scrolled through the saved numbers on her phone, and stopped at Lisa’s. Did she have the same number now? Probably not.
Hannah had canceled the service when they left Tennessee, knowing that they would have to exist with tracphones, so they could not be traced. She decided to try it anyway.
What will I say? she wondered. She didn’t know. She only knew that she could not stand living in fear in this limbo any longer. It was better to deal with what was going to come. She pressed Lisa’s old number and held the phone to her ear, her heart hammering. After a few moments, a voice came on the line. ‘The number you have reached has been changed.’
Hannah let out a sigh of despair. It had taken all her nerve to dial, and now she had no idea how to find her daughter’s number. She sat for a few minutes, holding the phone, and then, suddenly, she realized how she could get it. And resolve a heartbreaking problem as well. She was about to reveal herself to Lisa. Invite her to this confrontation. There was no reason to hide anymore.
She punched in an old, familiar number. It began to ring, and she held her breath. Pick it up, she thought. Please.
In the next moment, she heard a quavering voice say, ‘Hello.’
‘Mother?’ she said.
There was a gasp at the other end.
‘It’s me, Hannah,’ she said.
‘I know who it is,’ said Pamela.
‘Mother, I know you’re very angry at me. But I need to talk to you. I need your help.’
Pamela was silent at her end.
‘How are you, Mother? Are you OK?’
‘I’m perfectly fine,’ said Pamela, whose voice was growing more assertive by the moment. ‘No thanks to you.’
Hannah stifled a sigh. ‘Look, Mother, I don’t blame you for being furious. But I had my reasons for leaving like I did. I don’t expect you to understand …’
Pamela sniffed. ‘I do understand,’ she said. ‘I may be old but I’m not simple. You as much as told me what you planned to do. I don’t have to be hit over the head with it. I know you left because of Lisa. Although, to hear Lisa tell it, she is blameless in this whole mess.’
Hannah heard it loud and clear. The veiled challenge which demanded that she rise to the bait. Sorry, Mom, she thought. I can’t do it. ‘That’s what I called about, Mom. Are you in touch with Lisa?’
‘Why are you asking me that? Where are you? I have no idea where you even are. Where is Sydney? Is she all right? What about Adam?’
‘We’re all fine,’ said Hannah, smiling in spite of herself. ‘We’re living in Philadelphia at the moment.’
‘And why couldn’t you tell me that a year ago? I would have appreciated a call to let me know you were alive.’
‘I’ll be honest with you, Mother,’ said Hannah. ‘I thought you would be better off not knowing. That way, Lisa could not force anything out of you.’
Pamela was silent again.
‘Did Lisa stay in touch with you when she got out of jail?’
‘Yes, for a while,’ said Pamela in a frosty tone. ‘She came to see me several times. But when she realized I didn’t know anything of your whereabouts, communication dropped off sharply.’
‘I’m sorry, Mother,’ said Hannah. ‘For so many things.’
There was another silence at Pamela’s end, and Hannah girded herself to be berated again. ‘Hannah, I have to say,’ said Pamela, ‘I don’t think you were wrong to leave. There’s something that’s not right about that girl.’
Hannah felt her mother’s words of approval almost like an embrace. ‘Why do you say that? She didn’t hurt you, did she?’
‘She threatened me,’ said Pamela flatly. ‘She said that if I didn’t cooperate with her, I should fear for my life. I told her to get out. I actually had to call security. After that she would call me up just to bait me. It got so I couldn’t stand to speak to her. She is a very … unbalanced person. I always suspected it.’
Hannah was almost guilty about the relief she felt. ‘So, now you understand. That’s why we had to leave, Mother. We had to do it for Sydney’s sake,’ she explained.
‘Well, I’m sure you had your reasons.’
‘I didn’t want to leave you like that,’ Hannah whispered, ‘but I couldn’t tell you. I couldn’t tell anyone.’
‘And now?’
‘She’s found me.’
‘Oh,’ said Pamela, startled.
‘She is stalking me. It’s … nerve-wracking.’ Hannah decided on the spot not to tell her about the subway attack. There was no use in it. Pamela would only be terrified for her and there was nothing she could do about it. ‘I’ve decided to call her and arrange a meeting. But her old number doesn’t work since I cancelled the service. I wondered if you had her current one.’
‘Arrange a meeting? Why would you want to meet with her?’
‘As it is, I feel like I am constantly looking behind me, constantly fearful of the … unexpected. I just want to get this over with.’
‘Do you have any idea how much she hates you now?’
Hannah remembered the push that landed her on the subway tracks. ‘Yes, I think I do.’
‘You be careful, Hannah. She is a dangerous person.’
‘I know that. And I appreciate your concern. I will be careful. Do you have that number, Mom?’
‘Yes, I have it here,’ said Pamela, and Hannah could picture her mother, searching for the white-leather address book embossed with orchids that she continued to use. Pamela cleared her throat, and read the number.
‘Thank you.’
‘Be very cautious around her,’ Pamela warned. ‘She is not … like other people.’
‘I know that. Probably something I did …’
&
nbsp; ‘Oh, for heaven’s sakes,’ said Pamela impatiently. ‘Not everything is a mother’s doing. Look at you. You’re much nicer than me.’
Hannah smiled. ‘I don’t know about that,’ she demurred. ‘I just feel that I should have seen it. I should have been more … alert. Called her on her behavior. I always made excuses for her because she was so smart. I used that to explain away things that I knew were wrong. I shouldn’t have.’
‘It wouldn’t have mattered,’ Pamela proclaimed. ‘She was born that way, if you ask me. You two were good parents. There was no reason for her to become so … pitiless.’
Pitiless, Hannah thought. That’s a good description. ‘Thank you, Mother,’ she said humbly.
‘Are you coming back home?’
‘I don’t know what I’m doing. But I’ll let you know, all right?’
‘Be careful,’ said Pamela. ‘I mean it.’
I know, Hannah thought. She said goodbye and told her mother that she loved her. Pamela was too taken aback to reply and only muttered again that Hannah should take care. Hannah ended the call feeling better than she had in a long time. She had spoken to her mother. Whatever happened, she had talked to Pamela and told her that she loved her. It helped somehow. It helped.
Hannah looked at the number and thought about dialing her daughter. But she felt somehow too vulnerable in her bathrobe and socks. She went to the closet and began the painful process of dressing. Once she was in yoga pants and a bulky sweater she felt better, as if she still had some measure of control. She went into the kitchen and got herself something to drink, thinking, as she closed the refrigerator door, that she needed to work on that task immediately. Then she sat down at the little kitchen table, and picked up the phone. Her hand trembled as she held it. She took a deep breath, and dialed.
Her heart thudded and her hands were shaking so badly as she listened to it ring that she actually dropped the phone on the tabletop. She scooped it up quickly and held it to her ear. It was still ringing. Then she heard a click.
There was a rustling sound and then a familiar voice said, ‘Leave a message.’
Hannah hesitated, disappointed to get the prerecorded message. She was about to hang up then changed her mind. ‘Lisa, this is … your mother. I am calling because I want to see you. I need to speak with you. I know that it was you … in the subway station. I’ve seen the surveillance tapes. I don’t understand how you could … well, never mind. Obviously, you are very angry with me. Look, I want to talk to you. I am at the apartment and I’m sure that you know where that is. Let’s not play games. I want to see you. No matter what, I still care about you. Please call me back. We need to talk.’ She left her number and ended the call. Then she sat, staring straight ahead, trying to calm the furious pounding of her heart.
THIRTY-THREE
Hannah made herself a cup of black coffee and forced herself to eat some dry cereal. For a long while she had sat at the kitchen table, unable to move, waiting for the phone to ring, or for Lisa to show up at the door. She could not believe that Lisa would ignore that direct summons, especially since Hannah had told her that she knew Lisa was the one who pushed her in front of the train. Hannah had challenged her to show herself, and Lisa never liked to shrink from a challenge. It had always been one of her qualities that Hannah most admired. Hannah glanced over at the front door of the apartment. Just show up, she thought. Let’s get to it.
But the phone remained silent, and there was no sign of Lisa. More than anything, Hannah wished that she could just go back to bed and hide under the covers. Can’t do that, she thought. You have to try and accomplish something. Wearily, she got to her feet, pulled a large black trash bag from the box under the sink and went over to the refrigerator. Worst job first, she thought. She opened up the trash bag, and then swung open the refrigerator door. Looking inside made her feel slightly nauseated and hopeless, but she knew what to do about hopelessness. Start attacking the problem.
She began throwing things away. She examined every item as she took it out of the refrigerator. Most things went directly into the trash. The few items that had not reached their expiration date she placed on the counter as she dispatched all the others. Finally, when there was almost nothing left besides ketchup, mustard, mayo and relish, she began to scrub down the shelves.
She was working on the last shelf when the doorbell rang. It reverberated through her body as if she were a tuning fork. She straightened up, holding on to the refrigerator door for support.
Lisa, she thought.
Her feelings were warring inside of her. It was Lisa’s perverted plans for her own child, and her lies about Adam, which had sent them fleeing from their home, from the life they knew in the first place. Hannah hated her for that. And this was the same daughter who had shadowed her, and pushed her off a subway platform into the path of an oncoming train. She hated her for that too. But this was also her Lisa. Her only child. Despite everything, the habit of worrying about her, of loving her, came naturally, unbidden.
The doorbell sounded again, impatiently. All right, she told herself. Go down and face her, and try to understand why she has done the things she has done. Hannah opened the door to the apartment and made her way painfully down the staircase. She reached the front door and put her hand on the doorknob. Would she look the same to her, now that Hannah knew her daughter was willing and able to kill? Then Hannah reminded herself that all the time they were defending her during her trial she had probably already killed Troy Petty. And they were none the wiser.
She had seemed the same. How could you not see it? Hannah wondered. That sort of corruption should be visible, like a stain. But Lisa’s face, Lisa’s eyes had remained as dear to her as ever. She had seen nothing.
Hannah took a deep breath, and turned the deadbolt. Then she pulled the door open. Dominga Flores stood on the welcome mat.
Hannah felt disappointed. Relieved. She tried to hide her feelings and forced herself to smile. ‘Dominga,’ she said. ‘How are you?’
Dominga looked around uneasily. She still wore camouflage pants, and a shapeless sweatshirt; her buzz cut, which had grown out, was gelled into spikes. Her skin looked less drawn than it had been the last time Hannah saw her. And it had a little more color. The circles under her eyes had diminished somewhat. A positive effect of the rehab, Hannah thought. ‘Hey, Mrs Whitman. I didn’t know if you’d remember me.’
‘Remember you? How could I forget? You were our hero. I was on my way to see you when … I had this accident.’ Hannah indicated her own head, still bandaged, as well as her arm and leg.
‘I heard,’ said Dominga.
‘So, you’re at Restoration House now.’
Dominga nodded.
‘Come on in. What can I do for you?’
Dominga followed Hannah into the house and Hannah closed the door behind her. Dominga shifted uneasily from one foot to the other. Uneasiness came naturally to her, as she was clearly a shy person, uncomfortable in her skin. ‘Well, you know, Frank Petrusa, he sent me over.’
‘Frank did?’
Dominga nodded. ‘He told me you have some space available in your apartment. He thought maybe I could rent a room from you.’
Immediately, Hannah understood. Dominga was an ex-soldier. Frank had sent her here in search of a room but also as a potential bodyguard. Who better to hover over Hannah and lie in wait for her stalker? Hannah had to give it to him – it was a good solution, made up, no doubt, on the spur of the moment. She knew he was only trying to protect her, and she appreciated the fact that he cared. But it was too much to ask of Dominga. She didn’t need to get into the middle of this. It could be disastrous. ‘There’s only a small bedroom upstairs,’ Hannah said, shaking her head. ‘This whole downstairs part of the house is off limits. It belongs to Mrs Revere – that’s the woman you found here on the floor – and she’s in a nursing home. She won’t be coming back.’
‘I don’t need a lot of space,’ Dominga insisted. ‘I got nothin’. I’ve been
living on the street.’
Hannah sighed, knowing it was true. ‘But I think it’s a little unfair for you to get settled in here. Did you see that the house is for sale?’
‘I saw the sign.’
‘So, before you know it, you might have to move out.’
Dominga looked at her, vaguely puzzled. ‘I’m not planning on stayin’ forever. Everything’s temporary in my life.’
Hannah hesitated. ‘I think Frank may have been a little misleading …’
‘Can I see the room?’
Hannah looked at her with a level gaze. ‘He told you not to pay attention if I tried to say no, didn’t he?’
Dominga feigned innocence. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
Hannah sighed, touched by their collusion on her behalf.
‘Can I see it?’
‘You go on up,’ Hannah said. ‘I’m still recovering from the trip downstairs. It’ll take me ten minutes to get back up that staircase. The door’s open. It’s the room with the single bed. It used to be my daughter’s room. It’s kind of a small bed really …’
Dominga paid no attention. She vaulted up the stairs, two at a time, and disappeared into the apartment.
Hannah leaned against the newel post and listened as Dominga’s combat boots thudded from one room to the other. She didn’t want a roommate in that little space, she thought. She didn’t know what she and this taciturn woman would have to talk about. But despite her intention to face this all alone, the idea of Dominga, a trained soldier, living here, keeping watch, was undeniably comforting. In a matter of moments, Dominga appeared at the top of the stairs and leaned over the third-floor banister.
‘This is a really nice place,’ she said.
‘It’s small.’
‘It’s big enough.’
‘You didn’t even ask the rent,’ said Hannah bemusedly.
‘Frank said that my benefits would cover it.’
‘I’m sure they would,’ Hannah admitted. ‘Since I can’t give you a lease or anything, you can pay by the week. Say … fifty bucks?’
I See You Page 26