Lonely Souls

by Rosemary Fifield

  Cassie closed her eyes and whispered, “Jesus.”

  “He was missing for a long time, and we thought it was him. I don’t know if you know that.”

  “No.” Cassie sighed. “I did hear that he was the one who called the cops. I’m surprised he didn’t go in there and tackle Teddy himself.”

  “I think that’s part of what’s bothering him so much. That he didn’t. Just like Grant.”

  Cassie looked up at her. “What about Grant?”

  “He went to the scene, but they wouldn’t let the medical people get near the trailer. Shane said it’s killing him that he’ll never know if there was a chance they could have saved somebody.”

  Cassie swallowed hard. “Was Grant going to Marcia, too?”

  “I don’t know. Shane doesn’t share everything they talk about.” Shelby turned her sightless eyes on Cassie. “This isn’t changing how you feel about Marcia, is it? She was still your best friend.”

  Cassie sat quietly. How did she feel about Marcia now? Betrayed? She knew Marcia would not have been laughing at her; that she probably had some guilt about taking from Sonny what Cassie wanted so badly. Marcia and Sonny had been friends since they met, two Chatham misfits supporting one another. But Marcia and Grant? How had that come about? And for how long?

  “I guess I didn’t know her as well as I thought I did,” Cassie said angrily. “I told her everything. Obviously, that wasn’t true in the other direction.”

  “Some things are not said out of love, Cassie. Whatever she didn’t tell you, it was because it wouldn’t have been good for you to know.”

  They sat in quiet camaraderie, sipping coffee that had now gone cold.

  “How’s the baby?” Cassie said at last.

  “I think she’s fine. I left on Monday afternoon, and I haven’t been in touch, but I’m sure Miriam is taking good care of her.”

  “I really thought you’d be there, too. I know what you say about you and Sonny,” she added hastily, “but Sonny loves you, and I thought you were growing to love him.”

  “I love him,” Shelby said softly. “I was making real progress toward being able to be near him without fear. But then this happened.”

  “You left because he was having sex with Marcia?”

  “I left because he threw it in my face and tried to get me to react. He wouldn’t let me accept it. He wanted me to go away.”Tears were forming in Shelby’s eyes.

  Cassie shook her head. “He wants to be punished for what he did. And the worst thing he can think of is not being good enough for you.”

  “There are two people involved here. You don’t hurt the person you love in order to punish yourself.”

  “I guess you do if you think they’re going to be better off without you,” Cassie said.

  “Well, that seems like a conversation we needed to have first, about what it means to be better off.”

  “Then have it, Shelby. Don’t just give up.”

  On Wednesday morning, Shane delivered Shelby to the Penfield farm to visit Beth and give Miriam a break from childcare. Miriam welcomed her with a big hug. The baby was asleep, she said, and Sonny was in the shower. Miriam herself had a doctor’s appointment to get to, but she didn’t expect to be gone more than an hour and a half. She pointed out where to find the formula, then hurried out the door to head for Hanover.

  Shelby worked her way around the kitchen to the bathroom door. The sound of the shower had stopped, and so she knocked on the door.

  “What?” Dawson’s voice was gruff.

  “It’s Shelby.”

  “I’m not dressed.”

  Shelby laughed and opened the door. Heat and humidity and the smell of coconut shampoo engulfed her.

  “What the hell are you doing?” he barked.

  “I promise not to look,” she smiled.

  “Shit! Where’s Ma?”

  “Right behind me, waiting to get a peek. She’s gone to a doctor’s appointment.”

  “Well, shut the door anyway. I’m freezing. What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “Me? All kinds of things.” She stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “Well, for starters, I have a woman in the bathroom with me while I’m getting out of the shower.”

  “Are you completely naked?”

  “You said you wouldn’t look,” he snapped. “That means ‘no hands.’”

  “I know I said that, but what if I wanted to?”

  Dawson said nothing.

  “That’s not fair. I can’t see if you’re thinking about it or if you’re pissed.”

  Dawson’s voice was solemn. “The only way you’re going to put your hands on me is if I have unrestricted access to you.”

  Shelby paused for a long moment, then crossed her arms over her chest to grab the hem of her t-shirt and pull it up and over her head. She was wearing a camisole underneath. “It is hot in here,” she said softly.

  “Are you sure?”

  Shelby stretched out her arms to welcome him to come to her. “I’m sure. Unless you’re not interested.”

  Dawson moved closer to her, his fingers gently brushing her cheeks, and she reached out to place both hands on his bare chest. His skin was hot and moist. “You’re sure my Ma is gone?”

  “I watched her drive away.”

  It took a moment, but finally Dawson laughed. “You’re really full of it today,” he said as he rested his hands on her shoulders. “And it’s way too hot in here for this. All I can say is, she’d better be gone.” He reached around her and opened the bathroom door, letting a rush of cool air into the room that chilled the now-humidified skin on her back and shoulders.

  He led her into the living room to stand near the grated opening in the floor where dry heat rose up from the basement woodstove. Then he cupped her face with his hands and kissed her long and hard. She embraced him, closing her arms around his bare torso, his erection hard against her, and kissed him back. His fingertip traced the edges of her sternum and the notch beneath her throat, then drew a line down her chest to rest in the crevice between her breasts. She knew he was watching her face, alert for signs of distress.

  She smiled quietly at him as she rested her hands on his waist. “I’m okay.” Her fingers moved over the prominent ridges of his hipbones to the smoothness of his outer thighs.

  His hands settled lightly on her shoulders, then slowly teased the straps of her camisole down over her upper arms until she felt the soft material fall away from her breasts. She gave a small gasp at the electric thrill that ran through her with the knowledge that she was bare-breasted before him. Again. Only this time, it was her choice.

  “God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered, as his hands slid down along her ribs. His thumbs brushed her breasts, and she shuddered at the sensations coursing through her at his touch. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

  Shelby nodded. She wanted to touch him now, to feel his erection, to measure the size of him, but that would mean there was no turning back. She kept her hands on his hips.

  He unbuttoned her jeans, then slipped his warm hands beneath the waistband of her underpants and slid them downward until they and her jeans fell around her ankles. She was completely naked before him now, and she realized he could see the network of scars that marked where her baby—as well as her uterus and her spleen—had been taken from her and the aftermath of the surgeries meant to reconstruct her broken pelvis. His hands moved gently over all of it until his fingers found the wet softness between her legs.

  She cried out then and reached for him, closing one hand around him while reaching with the other for the long hair on the back of his neck, pulling him down to where she could kiss him again.

  The baby began to cry just as he lowered her onto the couch.

  They let the baby cry.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The police and the coroner finished their investigations of the Chatham shootings, and funeral arrangements for the three vi
ctims were made public on Wednesday afternoon. No open casket viewings would be held for any of them. The Beaumont family would be receiving visitors at the Faust funeral home for a few hours before Clay’s church funeral on Friday afternoon. Burial would be at a later date, after the ground thawed in the family’s plot in the cemetery in Chatham Center. Teddy Boardman’s elderly parents, devastated by the entire sequence of events, had chosen a private burial at a time and place they would not disclose. Marcia Boardman’s mother had arranged a funeral ceremony in the Congregational Church on Saturday, after which Marcia’s remains would be cremated and the ashes scattered somewhere to be determined.

  Conversations buzzed far and wide on the propriety of it all and whether, under the circumstances, Marcia’s mother should have followed the lead of the Boardmans and quietly tucked her daughter away without public ceremony. After all, the entire thing was a scandal and an embarrassment to the town. Newspaper and television reporters had been around for days, and now a series of funerals would just prolong the unwanted attention.

  The Baptist Church in Chatham Flat was filled to capacity for Clay Beaumont’s funeral. Shane and Shelby sat in the back row, which seemed fitting since they only knew him as the young man who plowed their driveway and the son of the Chatham Center postmistress. He had not been among those who worked on their house, and so they had come to the funeral in support of the townspeople in general and to acknowledge his tragic death.

  A contingent of firefighters and fast squad members, honoring one of their own, had carried his casket into the church. They now stood together at the back of the church, behind the last pew, solemnly professional in their matching navy blue t-shirts with the firefighters’ shield on the front pocket. For Grant, this would be his last official act as a fast squad member. He stood between John Millstone and Royal Chilcott and looked out over the crowd. Many in attendance were young people, for Clay had been only twenty-two, and most were sobbing openly. Jeanine Marsh was among them, sitting beside Cassie with tears streaming down her face. Cassie, on the other hand, looked as though she were in a trance, completely unaware of the people around her, immobile and detached.

  Dawson and Miriam sat two rows behind the Marshes. Miriam did not know the Beaumont family well, but she knew the importance of attending funerals; the support she had received when Nate died, from townspeople she barely knew, had buoyed her spirits and made her appreciate her neighbors even more. Dawson had always liked Clay Beaumont; he was one of the few guys in town Dawson had gotten along with. Just the week before, Clay had come to seek Dawson’s help with an idea he had for raising fallow deer on an abandoned dairy farm in Chatham Ridge.

  Clay’s parents, grandparents, and siblings entered the church and were escorted to seats in the front row, and the undercurrent of quiet sobbing increased at the sight of his stricken family. The minister led prayers and gave his eulogy, then opened the floor for remembrances from the churchgoers. Several young people—Clay’s classmates and friends—rose to speak about him, and Leon Dumaine stepped forward from the back of the church to honor Clay’s service to the town as a dedicated firefighter who, only a few weeks before, had received an award for attending the most fire calls during the previous year. His younger sister, now a senior in high school, closed the service with an essay she had written about her brother’s positive influence on her life.

  The firefighters and fast squad members moved to the front of the church to serve as pallbearers for their comrade’s casket, and the rest of the congregation followed behind the family as they trailed the casket down the center aisle and out into the sunny brightness outside. The snow had slumped significantly after two days of April warmth, and small rivulets of water ran wherever they could find bare ground. Beneath the sign identifying the church, the first crocus of the season shown purple and yellow.

  Shane led Shelby to where Grant was standing with his parents while they chatted with Larry and Suzanne and fussed over their baby. People had begun walking to the church hall across the road for lunch provided by members of the congregation, but Shane and Shelby did not plan to attend. “Cassie’s gone across the road with her sisters and her dad,” Shane said quietly. “Miriam’s headed this way. I don’t see Dawson.”

  Shelby returned Miriam’s heartfelt hug. The older woman smelled like baby powder. “How’s Beth doing?”

  “She’s eating well. Not a very good sleeper, though. Sonny’s been doing a lot of night-time walking.”

  “Really? Sonny?” The mention of his name brought a smile to Shelby’s face. She had not been with him since Wednesday, and she longed to be.

  “He seems to have the touch. She sleeps when he holds her, but not for me. Are you going over for the luncheon?”

  “No. I’m not very comfortable with events like that.”

  “Well, thank you for coming. I’m sure it’s appreciated by Bob and Loretta.”

  “What do you think will happen tomorrow, at Marcia’s funeral? Do you think a lot of people will come, or will they shun her?”

  “It’s hard to say. They might stay away, or they might fill the place to see what they can see.”

  “Corey Sloan is coming this way now,” Shane said.

  “More for Grant than for us, I’d guess,” Shelby answered. “Miriam, please say hi to Sonny for me. I take it he’s not nearby.”

  “He’s taking a walk right now, I don’t know where. The Beaumont boy was more of a friend to him than I realized. He’s taking this pretty hard.”

  Shelby nodded.

  “Will you be coming by for another visit soon?” Miriam asked. “The last one seemed to do a world of good for Sonny’s spirits.”

  Shelby thought she heard a knowing smile in the other woman’s voice. ”I will.”

  “Shelby! It’s Corey.” Corey Sloan rested her hand on Shelby’s forearm. “Shane, nice to see you! Grant! Mr. and Mrs. McIan! What a sad day, huh?”

  Shelby turned and put her hand on Shane’s arm. “I think it’s time to go.”

  Grant was surprised to see Corey at Clay Beaumont’s funeral. She crossed the lawn outside the church and slipped her arm through his, giving it a squeeze as she smiled into his eyes. It was the arm he had fallen on and he winced at the pain in his elbow, but she didn’t seem to notice. “That was a nice ceremony, don’t you think?” she said, her aqua eyes trained on his face.

  “As funerals go.” He looked past her to the retreating figures of Shane and Shelby and wished he could slip away with them. This luncheon was going to prolong the pain of being around Clay Beaumont’s grieving family.

  “You know, I’ve been trying to catch up with you for over a week!” Corey was saying. “You’re hard to pin down!”

  Grahame and Irene had started their journey across the road to the church hall; Grant and Corey followed behind them, arm in arm.

  “Why have you been trying to catch up with me?” He asked as they paused at the edge of the road to let a car go by.

  “Because I think we should talk. Allen and I are separated, you know.”

  Grant turned to look at her, so close beside him her breast was pressing against his arm. “Whose idea was that? Yours or his?”

  “It was mutual.”

  “No big event? Just a slow petering out?”

  “No big event. What did you expect? That I found out he was visiting Marcia Boardman?”

  Anger flashed through him instantly, and he pulled his arm from her grip in spite of the sharp pain the move caused. “Don’t say anything about her again.”

  Corey stared at him in surprise. “Jeezum, what did I say?”

  Grant resumed walking, his eyes trained straight ahead, his hand shoved into his jacket pocket. Corey slipped her arm through his once more and ran to keep pace with him as he crossed the road. “Are you okay?”

  “No. I’m tired and I’m crabby.”

  “Okay. I’ve been there before.”

  Grant smiled in spite of himself. This was what he had been hoping for, and i
t was finally happening. She was here, holding on to him, telling him her marriage to Allen Sloan was on the rocks.

  They had reached the church hall, and its double doors were wide open. People were milling around inside, and there, standing to the side with her sisters, was Cassie. Her long brown hair was pulled back from her face, and she was standing tall, her chin up, her eyes trained on something in the distance, her face impassive. She looked beautiful and stately and serene, and he realized he didn’t want her to see him with Corey on his arm.