Back Against the Wall

by Janice Kay Johnson

  Hyperventilating, Beth didn’t know what to do. Driving around town hunting for her sister wouldn’t help. Matt, she decided.

  “What?” he said, after she reached him. “No, don’t be ridiculous. I talked to her last night. She’s still mad, but swinging around to thinking it wouldn’t hurt to talk to someone like you suggested, especially if you’d pay for it.”

  “I offered to help pay for it.”

  “Come on, you know Emily.”

  Her whole body sagged as the fear vanished with a poof, leaving her muscles weak. “I hope you re-inforced my message.”

  “Sure, I did. Meant to call and tell you that you surprised me. It’s way past time, Bethie.”

  She’d have been annoyed, except...he sounded gentle, the way Tony did sometimes. “We’re changing. All of us.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Have you talked to Dad? This has been really hard for him, you know.”

  “You sound like Ashley,” her brother muttered.

  “Listen to her.”

  He grunted. “I’ll think about it. And you need to think about moving in with us until the cops catch Mighty Casey.”

  “Who?”

  “Uh...you know. Mudville? Casey stepping up to bat?”

  Her mouth fell open. “You’re making a joke about a man who tried to kill me?”

  “Well. It’s just...you remember how the poem ends, don’t you? ‘...mighty Casey has struck out’? Since he missed...uh...”

  Beth astonished herself by bursting out laughing. She laughed so hard she dropped the phone, so hard she had tears in her eyes. She heard Matt’s alarmed voice coming from a distance, but giggles kept erupting.

  After a quick rap on her door, it swung open, Barbara popping her graying head in. “Are you all right?”

  Still laughing, Beth waved her away. Picking up the phone at last, she said, “Thanks. I needed that.”

  “Uh, you’re welcome?”

  After letting him go, she dug in her drawer for a tissue to wipe her eyes. Mighty Casey. It was funny, in a macabre kind of way. So why did she still feel so sad?

  As if she didn’t know. She’d get over it—get over him. Time, she told herself desperately.

  By five, she was wiped out. A broken arm shouldn’t have her feeling like this, but it didn’t take a genius to understand that, really, it was the combination of stress, lingering pain, depression and anxiety.

  Once again, she made sure to leave at the same time as Ramona, who stopped dead the second she stepped out the back door.

  “Will you look at that?” she said, then made a humming sound of approval.

  “What?” Her key in the lock, Beth looked over her shoulder at the man leaning against her car, his legs crossed at the ankles. Tall, dark, handsome, the personification of confidence—and a plainclothes cop. Her heartbeat revved, wiping out the tiredness, but not the sadness that felt like grief.

  “It’s okay,” she told Ramona. “I know him.”

  Ramona grinned at her. “I wish I did.” Her head kept turning, but she headed straight to her car.

  Seeing Beth, Tony straightened, his hands dropping to his side, but he waited where he was. She walked toward him, wishing he was here to tell her he’d made an arrest, that she was safe, but suspecting otherwise.

  He didn’t smile and, closeup, tension showed on his face. “Beth.”

  “Hello, Tony.” She had her keys in her hand, but he stood between her and the driver’s door. “More questions.”

  “Not about the investigation.” Lines creased his forehead. “I’ve mostly eliminated Michael Longley and Alan Schuh, although I can’t be a hundred percent sure. Don’t trust either of them.”

  “Okay.” Beth wasn’t exactly brimming with trust for anyone these days.

  “Reistad is my best bet at the moment. But...” He hesitated.

  Finishing his thought for him was no problem. “It could be someone neither of us have ever met, whose name we’ve never heard.”

  “Unfortunately, that’s true.” His gaze sharpened. “It hasn’t come to you?”

  “No. I just...keep coming up with a giant blank. I think I’m trying too hard.”

  He grimaced agreement, then hunched his shoulders. “Beth, I came to say I’m sorry.”

  The words were naked, as was his expression.

  Even she heard how stony she came across as when she asked, “About what?”

  “You know what. Losing my temper after Emily called. Implying there was anything wrong with you needing to go to her.”

  “Implying?”

  He flushed. “Saying. You had to go. I...panicked.”

  The exhaustion hit her again. Pride was all that kept her from crumpling. She had to get rid of him. “You’re forgiven. I understand your reaction. I even...took some of your advice.”

  “My advice?”

  “I talked to Emily. I’m pushing her to get into counseling. I can see that I’ve spoiled her past the point of being healthy for either of us. So you did that much good.”

  “I’m glad.” Now he took half a step forward, his dark eyes searching hers. “Beth, I miss you. I probably don’t deserve it, but will you give me another chance?”

  She locked her knees and gripped the hard shell of her cast with her right hand. “No. You’ve had me on a roller coaster, and I hate roller coasters. If I agreed, I’d find myself tiptoeing around you. Sneaking away when I wanted to call Emily, or lying about where I’d been when I went to Dad’s house to change his bed and make sure his kitchen is stocked. I’d be waiting for your next bout of second thoughts. You said, ‘I can’t do this,’ and I think it was a good call. Now I’m saying the same.”

  “You don’t understand.” He leaned toward her in his intensity. “I meant it when I said you’re right. I’d have made the same decision.” He spoke faster and faster. “I swear I won’t expect you to abandon your family, any more than I’d ditch mine. We can work it out. Support each other.”

  “But, you see, I don’t believe you. It was...unreasonable of me to be so hurt, since we’d barely started anything personal, but I guess that’s how I’m made. Which should tell you how wrong I am for you. You’re a man who doesn’t want more family, while me, I do want that—a husband and children. See the disaster in the making?”

  “I’ve been falling for you. Hard.”

  “I’m sorry.” She kept her head up, and her eyes stayed dry. “Tony, I’m really beat. If you don’t mind...” She gestured toward the car.

  He moved aside. Even as she unlocked the door, he said, “How can I convince you?”

  “I don’t know.” Sitting behind the wheel was an enormous relief. She reached immediately for the door. “Goodbye.”

  Beth didn’t want to look at him but, even from the corner of her eye, she saw how stunned he looked. That hurt, knowing she’d done it to him, but her instinct was to run. And, of all people, he should understand. Wasn’t that exactly what he’d done?

  He hadn’t moved when she drove away.

  * * *

  THAT WENT WELL.

  Even after Beth turned out of the parking lot and disappeared from sight, Tony stood where he was.

  In one way, he’d known how she’d react, but he still hadn’t really expected her to say No way, I’m done with you. During the night, he’d convinced himself she’d been falling for him, too. Feeling desolate now, he realized she had. That was why he could hurt her as much as he had. Good going. No wonder she wasn’t up for more.

  Shit. Now what?

  Trying to find a grain of optimism she hadn’t stamped underfoot, he latched on to her answer when he asked how he could convince her to give him a chance. She could have said a flat You can’t. She didn’t. There might be a small opening. I don’t know wasn’t as final as You can’t.

  No matter
what, his first priority was doing his job, arresting her mother’s murderer and allowing Beth to feel safe stepping outside her door. The strain on her face had almost killed him. He wanted to kick his own ass for making what was an already horrendous week worse. It had taken remarkable strength for her to decide to return to work, to spend her days helping other people solve their problems. He imagined her warmth, how she’d comfort complete strangers, supply common sense and resources, without ever letting them see the shadows over her own life.

  Hearing himself making an odd sound, Tony let his head fall forward. His shoulders and neck ached, as if he’d spent the day hauling hay bales, as he’d done one long-ago summer.

  Finally, he took the few steps to his truck and got in. Tomorrow, he’d do his job. Tonight, he needed to talk to his mother like the man he was, not the boy he’d been. And then he just might spend the night in his truck outside Beth’s townhouse. He wasn’t sleeping anyway, and his gut said her assailant had to be freaking as the days passed.

  * * *

  HIS MOTHER WAS so delighted to see him, Tony felt a stab of guilt.

  “And for you to bring dinner, too!” she exclaimed, speaking Spanish which, even after spending all of her life in this country, was still most comfortable for her.

  Embarrassed, he said, “It’s not as if I labored in the kitchen for hours. All I did was stop at Tia’s.”

  “Ropa vieja? I smell it.”

  “With rice.”

  They sat to eat at the table in the kitchen of his childhood home. A typical ranch style built in the late 1970s, it wasn’t so different from his own. Despite having lived here, he marveled at how his parents had raised such a large family in a three-bedroom house.

  When he looked around, he could see the wear and tear. Flooring had all been replaced, courtesy of one of her sons-in-law, but otherwise not much had been done. Mamá resisted change and didn’t like accepting what she considered charity. His role was to mow her lawn or paint the exterior of the house, but she couldn’t accept new kitchen cabinets.

  Tony was conscious of the wear and tear he saw when he looked at his mother, too. She had always had such a straight back, and now her spine was developing a curve. Gray streaked her thick hair, and the wrinkles on her face seemed deeper than he remembered from even a few weeks ago. His gaze fell to her hands, increasingly knobby with arthritis. She was a short, stocky woman whose skin was darker than his. Tony’s height had come from his father.

  Mamá chattered about the girls and complained about how seldom she heard from Isabella. “It was foolish to let her go so far from home. She could be in all kinds of trouble, and we’d never know.”

  He smiled. “Having sex, you mean?”

  Mamá scowled at him. “Don’t even say that.”

  “I didn’t like the idea either but, before she went, I had a talk with her about men and birth control. I know you don’t approve, but she’s smart. She won’t get pregnant and have to drop out of college.”

  “But becoming a doctor will take so many years,” his mother worried. “She’ll never come home.”

  “Summers.” Maybe. The college had hooked his baby sister up with a job at a medical clinic in Monroe, a town not that far from Seattle and near the size of Frenchman Lake, if you didn’t count the enormous state correctional facility there. Even Tony tried not to imagine an inmate escaping, taking Isabella hostage... No, he had enough to worry about here at home. And, for all Mamá’s complaints, his sister did send emails at least weekly and posted even more often on Facebook.

  When they finished eating, his mother didn’t leap up to clear the table the way she normally would. Instead, she looked at him with eyes even darker than his own and said, “I think you have something to say.”

  “I do,” he agreed. He’d spent the past hour mentally rehearsing what to say, not wanting to hurt her feelings.

  Her mouth thinned, but she listened. Finally, she said, “This is about a woman.”

  “No, Mamá.” Why bother saying Yes, I met a special woman, but I hurt her, and now she doesn’t want anything to do with me? His resentment predated Beth, anyway. “I love you all, but I need you to respect the long hours I work. How will I ever meet a woman if I’m always mowing my sister’s lawn or standing in her garage with my head under the hood of her car? I was with someone when you insisted I check on Eloisa. I understand why you were worried, but did you call anyone else in the family first? She might have talked to one of them five minutes before. Carlos wasn’t home, but Eddie and Diego probably were. Why is it always me?”

  “Because you’re the big brother,” she said, as if it were obvious. “They trust you. Not everyone does what they promise. You do.”

  “Thank you for saying that.”

  “So you don’t want to help your sisters anymore.”

  He shook his head, smiling. “That’s not what I said, Mamá, and you know it. I will always help when they need me. When you need me. But not when they can fix their own problems. Do you understand?”

  He could tell she’d rather not but did. Tony left a half hour later, after a big hug, knowing she might believe she was trying but would fall back into the same habits if he let her. But he’d told her what he felt, so she couldn’t say she didn’t understand when he said no to requests that he would no longer let himself feel were demands. Change went two ways, after all.

  It wasn’t yet dark when Tony drove to Beth’s, turning into the alley and parking in a spot marked for visitors. He didn’t take the one closest to her back door, in case she did come out. Here, she wouldn’t notice him, but he had a good line of sight to her unit. He’d see when she turned out her lights, see anyone approaching. And with his window rolled down, he had a chance of hearing the sound of breaking glass, or a scream.

  * * *

  WITHIN TWENTY-FOUR HOURS, Beth had doubted her decision a few hundred times.

  She’d vowed to take the risk of a relationship with him, then opted out after the first speed bump. A giant one, sure, but she could have foreseen it. He had issues, she’d known that. And...he’d been right about her having allowed—or encouraged? Awful thought!—her sister and father to be dependent on her.

  Roller coaster. She’d twice ridden on one and hated every clanking second, from the climb with the people down below shrinking into miniatures to the plunge, when she was sure the thing would fly off the rails. The only good part was getting off. Remember?

  Then she’d picture him standing alone in the parking lot, his very stillness making him look desolate. Her heart cramped.

  She could love him. Until Tony, she’d never met a man she could.

  Up, down, all around.

  Beth made it through another day of work, this one especially challenging because Barbara had called in sick. Her heart had been fluttering, she said. Later she called to tell them that her doctor had asked a cardiologist to see her as soon as possible, which probably wouldn’t be until next week. She was glad today was Friday, sure that by Monday she’d feel fine.

  One more person to worry about.

  But it was Friday, so Beth, too, had a couple days to recuperate.

  She did stop for much-needed groceries. At home, as she unloaded them from the trunk, she spotted the young guy from two doors down who’d raced to her rescue. When she waved, he came over to ask how she was, giving her the chance to thank him again.

  Inside, even before she put away the groceries, she walked through the house, as she’d done every day since Tony had left, peeking in closets and anyplace else a person could hide. Silly, but at least when she was done she could be absolutely positive she was alone.

  She made a giant potato salad, enough to give her lunches and maybe dinners, too, for several days. Tonight, a heaping serving was all she wanted.

  She wasn’t even tempted to watch TV because then she might not hear the tinkle of breaking glass
or a soft footstep. Instead, Beth tried to concentrate on the book she was reading, but without success. Finally, she let it fall to her lap.

  Aloud, she said into the silence, “Keith Reistad.” What did she remember about him?

  She’d had to call him Mr. Reistad because it was polite, but Mom had always said Keith. And she did talk about him a lot. Too much, maybe. Yes, he was one of the partners, and she worked directly under him, but she must have spent most of her hours at the office with clients or on her computer. She should have gone days at a time without seeing him.

  Had there been a spark of excitement in her mother’s voice or expression when she talked about him?

  Mostly what Beth saw was Dad’s face, not so much vague as blank. He’d built a wall—

  Her phone rang, making her jump. Emily, at last.

  “Emily?”

  “Hi.” Her sister sounded almost shy. “Are you still mad at me?”

  Beth sighed. “I wasn’t mad, I was worried about you.”

  “I, um, made an appointment today. With the woman counselor. I can’t talk to a man. So I hope you’re happy.”

  Hearing the return of a whine, Beth shook her head but only said, “I am.”

  “I was wondering, well, if you’d come over. So we could talk. You know.”

  Don’t wanna. But how could she not, when Emily had asked nicely? Except—“Detective Navarro asked me not to go anywhere after dark. Can you come here instead?”

  “But what if that guy thinks I’m you? No, that doesn’t make sense. I mean, even in the dark anyone could tell the difference between us, couldn’t he?”

  Because I’m a hippo compared to your dainty self. “Gee, thanks.”

  “I don’t mean that in a bad way. You’re too sensitive.”

  Maybe she was.

  Hesitant, Emily asked, “Is it really okay if I come?”

  “Yes, you can still come. If you’re hungry, I made potato salad.”

  “I love your potato salad. See you as fast as I can get there.”

  It would be good to have company. Maybe she could even talk Emily into spending the night. The sofa pulled out into a bed.