by Gayle Roper
Mimi moved to stand beside her husband. “Well, it’s the kind of thing I’ve come to expect from you.”
Libby flinched, and Jack looked at Mimi in surprise. Drew scowled. Maybe Jenna was lucky to be ignored after all.
Mimi glared at the negative reactions her comment brought. “I just meant that Lib has become too righteous to talk about her wild younger days. You all know that’s true.”
Wild younger days? How about abandoned younger days. He was pleased when Libby actually defended herself.
“You’re wrong, Mom. I’ve talked a lot with Chloe about my mistakes when I was younger.” Her voice was barely shaking, and Drew felt inordinately proud of her. “I’ve told her I was wrong, and I’ve warned her against making the same bad choices.”
Anger flared in Eddie, displacing his pasty look with a red flush. “So I’m just a mistake, am I?” He stood with his hands on his hips, glaring at Libby.
“Of course you were, Eddie,” Libby said. “I should have been strong enough to handle all the pressure of”—she hesitated—“things myself.”
“Things?” Cynthia snapped at Libby’s heels like an angry terrier. “So it’s all Mike and Jack’s fault?”
Libby closed her eyes, and Drew suspected she was casting an urgent prayer heavenward. She took a deep breath, opened her eyes, and looked at Cynthia.
“I neither said nor meant that, Nan. My sin was my sin.”
“Wait a minute here,” Eddie complained.
“Libby.” Drew felt compelled to defend her in front of these people who should be her main support, not her accusers. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You were sixteen. Your family was in turmoil. You didn’t have anyone supporting you.”
Mimi skewered Drew with a baleful look. “So Libby’s failures are our fault after all.”
About ninety percent, Drew wanted to yell, but he didn’t. One of Ben’s pithy sayings crossed his mind: “Any fool can criticize, condemn, and complain, and most fools do.” He bit back the urge to quote it, lest he become another of this crowd whom Ben would consider fools. Instead he concentrated on projecting telepathic support to the hurting woman standing beside him with such grace. Didn’t these people see she was hemorrhaging emotionally over her daughter’s distress and her contribution to that pain? Where was their triage of touch? Their sutures of sympathy? Their gauze wrappings of love?
“Well, it would have been nice if someone had told me how things stood,” Jack said.
Drew could see him beginning to get angry that he had been the one to cause all the commotion. He was a man looking to reassign responsibility. Was that how he handled the knowledge that guns he resold killed others, killed cops?
“Come on, Lib.” Drew took her by the elbow before she became her father’s scapegoat. He had to get her away from these people. “Let me drive you home.”
She looked at him with a dazed expression. “I’ve got my van.”
“We’ll come back for it tomorrow.”
She studied him for a minute as if she were trying to assimilate his comments. She was definitely hanging on by a thread.
“You don’t want to drive alone tonight.”
“I don’t want to drive alone tonight.” She took a deep breath and nodded. “You’re right. I don’t.”
They started toward Drew’s CR-V.
“Wait, Libby.” Eddie ran up to them. “In all the fuss, I forgot to give this to Tori. It’s really why I came. And to see Jack and Mike, a’course.”
“A’course.” Drew let his sarcasm show. Eddie shot him a venomous look.
“About Chloe, Eddie,” Libby whispered, all her fears for her daughter written on her pale face.
Eddie frowned and waved a hand dismissively. “I gotta admit the kid’s cute and all, but I don’t want a kid any more than she wants me.”
Libby pressed her hand to her heart and let out a great sigh. She squeezed her eyes shut, as if she was trying to push back tears. “Thank you, Eddie.”
Eddie shrugged, as if giving up a marvelous kid like Chloe was no big deal. “Yeah, yeah. I’m a saint.” He thrust a folded piece of paper into Libby’s hand. “Just give this to Tori.” He turned away and started back to the front door.
Libby stared at the paper. “Oh, God.”
Drew recognized it as a prayer even if Eddie didn’t, and he understood. He recognized the size of the sheet and the black block lettering: TORI. Another puzzle.
Libby called after Eddie, “Where did you get this?”
When he didn’t respond, she ran after him, grabbing him by the arm. He turned with a frown.
“Where did you get this?”
He shook his head as Drew moved up beside them.
“You’ve got to tell me. Who gave you this to deliver? Who? Who’s threatening my sister?”
Again Eddie shook his head, unwilling or unable to meet her eyes, something that struck Drew as hinky, given Eddie’s brash nature.
“Tell her, Eddie. It’s the least you can do for her.”
Eddie glared at Drew, then glanced at Libby, taking in the fine tremors that shook her, causing the paper to flutter in her hand. “The least I can do for her is not tell her.”
“Come on, Eddie.” Jack held the screen door open for the rest of the family to enter the house. “We need to talk about old times, and I need to catch up on what you been doing lately.”
“Be right there,” Eddie called.
Libby looked from Eddie to her father and back to Eddie in horror. “Don’t you dare pull my father back into the cesspool, Eddie. I don’t know what you’ve been up to, and I don’t want to know, but I know it’s not good.” She held out the puzzle as proof.
He grinned cockily at her. “Big stuff coming my way, Lib. Jack’ll find it all fascinating.”
“Please let him alone, Eddie. Please! It’s been one of my worst nightmares for years that Dad’ll fall back into what he was because that’s what he knows.”
“Hey, Jack’s a big boy. He can take care of himself.”
“Think what it would do to your daughter if her grandfather got into trouble with the law again,” Libby pleaded. “I know what it did to me.”
“Hey! Don’t bring the kid into it! I told you. It’s like she’s not mine. And you survived just fine.” And he rooster-strutted up the walk and into the house.
“‘He who falls in love with himself will have no rivals,’ “Drew quoted.
Libby stood a moment, staring bleakly at her parents’ home, Tori’s puzzle dangling from her limp hand.
“Come on, Lib. Time to go.” Drew took her elbow and led her toward his car. He opened the passenger door and helped her in. Then he knelt beside her, the elevation of the curb making him level with her. He reached out and pushed a fallen curl off her forehead. It was neither as soft as Jenna’s hair nor as coarse as his own. It was Libby’s alone. “You going to be okay?”
She gave him a wan smile. “Maybe someday.”
He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “Someday’s good. We can work with someday.”
She put a hand on his jaw. “Thank you.”
He stared into her hazel eyes and his heart swelled. “An appreciative woman. What a concept.” She’d probably never understand how much her generous spirit meant to him, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to convey the depths of his attraction to her. Was it love? It was much too soon to bat words like that around. Would it become love? Who knew? Certainly not him.
“Did you see him lose it when Chloe cut herself?”
He blinked. So much for deep philosophical musings. But what could he expect considering the night she’d had? “Eddie?”
Libby nodded. “He never could stand blood.”
“A wimp as well as a weasel?”
“A wimpy weasel.” She gave a slight smile. “Once I gave myself a paper cut, nothing bad, but a bead of blood welled up. I thought Eddie was going to fall over. He turned all pale and sweaty. He hasn’t grown out of it. Must be embarrassing.”
<
br /> “Anything that embarrasses Eddie sounds good to me.”
He shut her carefully in the hot CR-V, walked around, and climbed in. While he turned the motor over and adjusted the much-needed air conditioning, Libby opened the puzzle.
“Help me do it?” she asked. “I’m not real good with crosswords. Sudoku is more my style. Tori’s the one who loves crosswords.”
“Which someone obviously knows. What’s one-across?”
ACROSS DOWN
1 not righthanded 2 beneath the roof
5 third part of a suit 3 mm mm good
6 wrong 4 ring carbons
8 messy places 7 crying in fright
11 they aren’t smart 9 beating
12 one who attacks 10 they live in 8 across
13 hits, runs, and… 14 what was paid for Red Chief
15 straight from the horse’s mouth 16 there are nine
17 what you owe 17 takes life
18 trouble-making disposition 19 lost balance, swayed
20 like Mick
21 rim, border
22 arrested
23 take by force
“One-across is not right-handed. Five letters. I know that. Lefty.” She wrote it in. “And it’s not even a scary word.”
“Two-across?” Drew asked.
“No two-across. The next across is five. Third part of a suit.”
“Are we talking suit as in what a man wears, or are we talking suit as in cards? After all, Tori works in the gambling industry.”
“I don’t know.” Libby sounded frustrated. “See? That’s why I do Sudoku. It always uses numbers one to nine.”
“Well, something must intersect five-across.” Assuming the creator was at all logical.
“Yes. Two-down, beneath the roof, five letters, and three-down, mm mm good, five letters. They both attach to lefty.”
Drew smiled. “I bet you two, beneath the roof, attaches to the e in lefty and is eaves. Mm mm good attaches to the t and is tasty.”
“How do you know that?”
“I don’t. It’s an educated guess. Does it work?”
She wrote the words in, then said triumphantly, “The third part of a suit is vests.”
“Third part is singular and vests is plural? Someone’s not playing quite fair.”
She made a sound that was a cross between a snort and a laugh, and it was music to his ears. “Come on now, Drew. I don’t think fair is a big consideration for someone who leaves dead bodies and threatening puzzles.”
They worked through the rest of the puzzle as they sped toward Philadelphia. By the time they reached the bridge, Libby had to turn on the interior light to see well enough to figure out the embedded message.
Drew pulled up to the toll booth. If he kept going to New Jersey like this, he was going to have to invest in E-ZPass so he could just drive through without having to wait in the lines. He glanced over at Libby. “What’s it say?”
“LAST WARNING.”
“Huh.”
She stared at him in frustration. “That’s it? My sister’s life is threatened again and all you can say is huh? We’ve got words like amiss, moneys, murders, dead, and busted as well as diamonds—did you see the earrings she was wearing tonight?—and last warning, and all you can say is huh?”
He was delighted to hear her grumpiness because it meant she had come out of her daze. “Don’t forget raider, swine, and thrashing.”
“Oh, you sure know how to make a girl feel better about things.”
He grinned at her as they crested the top of the bridge and the Philadelphia skyline came into view. She glared at him, trying to hold on to her grouch, but she couldn’t manage it. She leaned back on the headrest with a slight smile.
When she fell quiet, he did too, letting her nap, think, worry, or pray as she needed.
After a few minutes she said in a wondering voice, “How could I have been so stupid?”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Lib. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about you, it’s that you have a tendency to beat yourself up.”
“But I was wrong!”
“Yeah, and you got caught. ‘You may delay but time will not.’ But we’re all wrong at times.”
“Not with so much at stake.” Her voice was a bit wobbly again.
“Chloe’s a smart kid, and she knows you love her. She’ll figure it out. Just give her time.”
“But how will she ever trust me again?”
He reached over and patted her hands, which were clutched together in her lap. “She knows there wasn’t malice in your silence, but protection. She’ll forgive you.”
“Oh, God, I hope so! Please!” The prayer was laced with equal parts fear and desperate hope.
“Libby, have you ever thought that maybe you’re overreacting a bit here?”
“What?” Her surprised outrage made his ears ring.
“Easy there. Let me finish. Your mistake wasn’t an offense against God and mankind. It was a mistake in judgment. People all make mistakes.”
She glared at him. “So you’ve said. And that simplistic reasoning makes it okay?”
“Of course not, but it makes it human. It makes you human.”
“So I’m human and Chloe suffers. Great. Now I definitely feel better.”
“I bet you think you’re a failure as a mother right about now, don’t you?”
“I am.” He heard the anguish in her voice.
“No, you’re not. You have loved her and cared for her for years. She knows that, and she loves you.”
“And I ruined it all.”
He decided to be a bit brutal to knock her out of her self-pity, which, though understandable, was unacceptable. “Get over it, Keating.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Easy for you to say, buster. Your daughter’s talking to you.”
“Barely, but another topic. Just listen to me here without being defensive. I’m not accusing you.”
Libby sighed and stared at her hands. “Go ahead.”
“I totally messed up in my marriage.” He pulled into his parking spot and turned off the engine but made no move to get out of the car. Neither did Libby. The darkness shrouded them, cocooning them in a private world. He reached for her hand and laced their fingers.
“Yeah, but a lot of that was Ruthie’s fault.” Libby turned in the seat to face him. “None of this is Chloe’s. It’s mine.” She slugged herself in the chest to bring home the self-identification.
Talk about stubborn. Drew rubbed the back of his neck. “What I’m about to tell you is one of the main reasons I survived the guilt after Ruthie left.” Lord, help me say this right.
She looked at him with a passive curiosity.
“What you’re feeling right now is useless regret. Regret is what we feel when we make a mistake or have an accident or embarrass ourselves or commit a crime and get caught or when our conscience pricks. We feel it over things we wish we could change, big things and little things. Regret either eats you up little by little, like being nibbled to death by ducks, or it helps you not make the same mistake again.”
He could feel her polite passivity changing to active interest.
“It comes down to being nibbled to nothing or learning from it. You get to choose which.”
They sat quietly in the hot car while she thought and he prayed. Finally she turned to him.
“She calls him ‘Icky Eddie.’”
Drew gave a hoot of laughter at the unexpected comment. She was flexible steel to the core whether she realized it or not.
“So how do you undo regret?”
“Often you can’t undo it. Whatever caused it may be permanent. My divorce is permanent. I’m still dull and pedantic. Ruthie’s still ill. But I’m not getting nibbled to death. I’ve learned to give my regret to the Lord, to remember that Jesus is the great Burden Bearer.”
She nodded. “He is. I know He is. He has been for all the other heavy loads I’ve had to carry. I know He will be with this too. It just hurts a lot r
ight now.”
“You wouldn’t be normal if it didn’t. But if you learn from it… He opened his door and got out.
She climbed out her side and walked into the lane at his side. He took her hand again as they approached the front door of Aunt Stella’s. With a little tsking sound, Libby reached out and deadheaded a couple of spent geraniums. She stood a moment, staring at the brown flowers.
“Life’s like a flower box, isn’t it?” She looked at him. “The brilliant blooms of joy and the past-their-prime moments of pain. You can’t have one without the other.”
He glanced at his house then and saw Ruthie’s silhouette in the window of his bedroom, staring down at them. His bedroom. “‘Yet man is born to trouble as surely as sparks fly upward,’ Job says. But the apostle Peter says, ‘Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.’”
Some days his casting abilities were required so often that he felt sure he’d be a prize winner in any heavenly bass fishing competition going.
18
DREW FOLLOWED ME INSIDE, where we immediately heard the girls shouting and laughing.
“They sound like they’re in Tori’s room.” I didn’t want to go up and check because I was unsure of how Chloe would react when she saw me, but I had to at least say hello even if they didn’t want to talk to me. There would be no days of tense silence in my home.
The girls were in front of the large television hidden in the satin-wood armoire. They were whipping their arms all over the place as on-screen little animated figures raced around a tennis court. Tori sat cross-legged on the bed laughing with them.
“Look, Mom!” Chloe yelled as she whipped an arm and just missed clipping Jenna in the ear. “Aunt Tori gave me a Wii!”
I was delighted to see her happy, but I was gripped by the fiercest wave of jealousy I’d ever felt, just what I needed to end a perfect day. I was certain the tears I was furiously blinking back were as vivid a green as the Irish countryside. I’d messed up big-time this evening, and Tori had, as usual, found a way to shine.