Tracy threw the door open, and her grandmother and aunt came in with a flourish of gifts and hugs. Sylvia turned on some piano music on the old stereo system Harry had left behind. As more guests arrived, Cathy greeted each one as if they were her old best friend. It bowled her over that anyone had actually taken the time to come. When there was a lull in the number of women arriving, Cathy went to look for her children, who had retreated into the kitchen. “You guys come out here and be polite now,” she whispered. “Speak to every guest, and when I open gifts, ooh and ah over everything. And no cryptic comments about what I get.”
“Do you believe this?” Annie asked Rick. “She’s asking us to lie.”
“I’m not asking you to lie,” Cathy said. “I’m just asking you to be polite.”
“So what are you going to do to Mark?” Annie wanted to know.
“I’ll deal with him when the shower is over. One thing at a time, okay?”
The doorbell rang again, and she heard more guests coming in. “Come on, now. We have to get out there.”
The smell of fruit punch and sugar icing hung on the air, along with that of melon balls and a dozen different pastries that Brenda had concocted. Cathy owed them big-time, she thought. She just hoped she wouldn’t have to move out a couple of rooms of furniture to get all the gifts into her house.
She and Steve had thought of moving to his place, but she hadn’t been able to stand the thought of leaving her little neighborhood. Sensing her reluctance, he had offered to move into hers and build a couple of extra rooms, so they would have a little more square footage in which to spread out. The foundation had been poured last week, and the contractor said it would take a couple of months to get the rooms up—not in time for a July 4th wedding. But that hadn’t bothered them. They would go ahead with the wedding and move Steve and Tracy into her house, as it was. That way they could put Steve’s house on the market while they waited for the new master bedroom and the extra family room to be finished, and they could take their time decorating Cathy’s room for Tracy.
The doorbell rang again, and Tracy flung it open. Her excited face changed to surprise, and she stepped back and called over the crowd, “It’s a policeman!”
Everyone got quiet and turned to the door, and Sylvia rushed to the foyer. “May I help you?”
“Could you tell me if there’s a Cathy Flaherty here?” the officer asked.
Cathy started to the door, not certain whether this was some kind of prank her friends had played on her, or something more serious. She glanced at Tory and Brenda and saw that there was no amusement in their eyes.
“I’m Cathy Flaherty,” she said. “Is something wrong?”
“Mrs. Flaherty, I need for you to come to the police station as soon as possible.”
If she hadn’t still been standing, she would have been certain her heart had stopped beating. “Why?” she asked. Something told her she didn’t want everyone to hear this, so she stepped outside. Steve followed her out, then Annie and Rick bolted to the door.
“It’s your son, Mark,” the police officer said. “I’m afraid he’s been arrested.”
A wave of uncertainty and denial washed over Cathy, and she took a step back and bumped into Steve. His arms came around her, steadying her.
“For what, officer?” he asked.
“The charge was drug distribution.”
Cathy couldn’t get her voice to function, and she felt Steve’s hand squeezing her arm. Tears blurred her vision, and she thought she might tip right over and collapse on Sylvia’s front porch.
“No way,” Rick said, finally.
“My brother was selling drugs?” Annie asked, as if to make sure everyone in the house had heard.
“He was picked up on Highland Avenue,” the officer said, “after he tried to sell marijuana to a plainclothes officer.”
The world seemed to grow dim. Cathy was going to throw up. Her head was going to explode. Her heart was going to give out. Her knees were going to buckle.
But she just stood, letting the words sink in like some kind of toxin, seeking out every vulnerable cell in her body.
She heard Steve taking charge, finding out where they were holding Mark, asking Rick to get the car, telling Sylvia to call off the shower. For a few moments, her thoughts remained scattered. Only one seemed to motivate her to action.
Her son needed her.
CHAPTER
Three
What was he thinking?” The shock etched itself on Cathy’s face, making her look older and less like a bride-to-be. She had given up on her hair and pulled the pins out again, and now it was in her way. She swept it behind her ears.
Steve clutched the steering wheel with both hands. He had been quick to get his mother to take Tracy home, as if hearing about Mark’s rebellion would influence the child somehow. Cathy wondered what he would do when they all lived together. How would he shelter Tracy from Cathy’s kids then?
In the backseat, Rick and Annie sat with their arms crossed, staring out opposite windows. She didn’t remember their ever being this quiet before. But she wanted answers.
“Where did he get drugs to sell, for heaven’s sake? I tried to separate him from all the kids who were leading him in the wrong direction. He’s home-schooled! He must have gotten it in Knoxville when he was with his dad last weekend.”
“Mom, he could get it anywhere,” Annie argued. “You don’t know if he got it in Knoxville.”
“But that’s where he got in trouble before! Hanging around with car thieves. He could have gone to prison!”
“Mom, he didn’t steal a car,” Rick said. “His friend took his stepfather’s car, and the guy pressed charges. Mark didn’t even know he didn’t have permission.”
“My son was charged with car theft—and vandalism of that kid’s school. It should have been a wake-up call, but your father didn’t wake up. I told him not to let him hang around with them…and now he’s selling drugs!” Her face tightened, and she felt the arteries at her temples throb. She slammed her hand on the dashboard. “I thought once you got your life right that things were supposed to fall into place! But they’re not falling into place! How can my son be selling drugs? He just turned fifteen last week. He’s just a child!”
“Mom, he’s not a child,” Rick said. “He’s mobile now. His friends have cars.”
“And he’s not the little angel you think he is,” Annie added.
“I never thought he was an angel,” Cathy said, turning around in her seat. “Believe me. I’ve known for years that he was far from an angel. When I was taking him to his probation officer once a week, I knew he wasn’t an angel! When Steve and I canceled our wedding twice last year because of Mark’s behavior, I knew he wasn’t an angel! But I didn’t think he was a criminal, either!” She shifted in her seat and turned her accusing eyes to her children. “Why didn’t you tell me what he was doing? This doesn’t even seem like a surprise to either of you.”
“Mom, we didn’t know,” Rick said. “Don’t you think we would have told you if we knew our brother was selling drugs?”
“Then why did Annie say that about him, that he wasn’t an angel?”
“Because he’s not, Mom,” Annie said. “I mean, I’ve known for a while that Mark was headed in the wrong direction. Even with the home-schooling and everything, he’s just a bad kid.”
“He is not a bad kid!” Cathy said through her teeth. “I will not let his own siblings label him like that!” She turned back around and glared out the windshield.
Steve reached across and gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. She wondered when he would jump in and agree with the kids.
“I’m just saying that he doesn’t pick the greatest guys in the world to be his friends,” Annie said.
“They’re trouble if you ask me,” Rick said. “All except for Daniel.”
“I could have stopped him from seeing them!” Cathy shouted. “I could have made him quit going to visit his dad if his father wouldn’t con
trol him. Why would you keep something like that from me?”
“Mom, it wasn’t Knoxville. It was here, too. At the baseball park…”
“So I was wrong to let him keep playing on a baseball league? I thought he could be home-schooled and still be athletic. I thought he could be trusted at least that far.”
“Guys like Mark can get into trouble no matter where they are,” Rick said.
Cathy breathed out a bitter laugh that only resulted in tears. “I will not accept that. I…will…not…” Her voice broke off, and she pressed a fist to her mouth. “Maybe he’s innocent. Maybe it’s all just a stupid mistake.”
Steve didn’t respond, and she knew he wasn’t buying it. Everyone in the car knew Mark had probably done exactly what he was accused of. Everyone except Cathy. She still held out hope that this would all be cleared up by the time they reached the station.
Mark had been such a pure, happy little boy. He had been the one who skipped everywhere he went. He hummed a lot, little kid songs from nursery school. He brought stray animals home and nursed them back to health. She remembered the turtle he’d found dead in its bowl. He had cried for hours, then arranged a burial and a solemn ceremony, in which they’d all crowded around to pay their last respects.
Was this some sort of burial ceremony for his future? Were they all supposed to gather at the station with solemn faces and mourn the loss of the child who could feel things so deeply?
What had happened to that little boy?
She would not believe that he had turned bad, that there was no hope, that he was destined to go down the wrong path for the rest of his life. She would not believe that he had hardened into a criminal who would break a law just to make a buck.
It had to be a mistake.
CHAPTER
Four
She found Mark sitting in an interrogation room with swollen red eyes, as if he’d been trying to cry his way out of this. It had worked when he was four, when one forbidden match had resulted in flames swallowing up the yard. She remembered that Jerry had lambasted him at the top of his lungs, and Mark had cried and cried until Cathy’s focus had shifted from punishment to comfort.
But he wasn’t four anymore.
She came into the room alone, because they wouldn’t allow Steve, Rick, or Annie to accompany her. Instead, they sat in the waiting area waiting for her to come back.
When she saw Mark, she followed her first instinct to pull him out of his chair into a crushing hug. He clung to her as he hadn’t in years, and her mother’s heart melted at the fear she felt in his embrace. “Mark, what’s going on?”
“Mom, I didn’t mean to,” he said. “I swear I didn’t mean to.”
“You didn’t mean to what?”
“Sell drugs,” he said. “It’s not like I’m some kind of dealer standing on the corner looking for little kids to mess up. I just trusted Ham Carter. You know, the catcher on my team. He called me and told me to meet him. And all he wanted was a bag, Mom. It’s not like I keep an inventory or something. I thought I could make a few bucks so I could go to the concert next week. I knew where to get one for him—”
“Mark!” The word yelped out of her mouth, shutting him up. Had he just admitted that he’d done exactly what they said? Had he really bought drugs so he could sell them to someone else? She grabbed a chair and shoved it under the table, as if it was in her way. Trembling, she made herself turn back to him. “Where…did you get it?”
“Never mind,” he said. “I just got it, okay? And the reason I was going to sell it to him was because he was going to pay me real good. You know, if you gave me a decent allowance, I wouldn’t have to do stuff like this.”
Her finger came up level with his gaze, and her eyes snapped caution. “Don’t you dare blame me for this.” Her voice broke, but that finger kept pointing. Through her teeth, she whispered, “Allowance?”
The sad humor in that word made her feel suddenly weak, and she dropped her finger and turned away. Her hair seemed too hot against her forehead, so she pushed it back and held her hand there. “How could this happen?” The words came in a whoosh of emotion. “How could you? Selling drugs? They put people in jail for that.”
“But I didn’t think I’d get caught. I thought I could trust him. I didn’t know he had some cop with him when he came to get me. The guy looked young. They set me up, Mom. They tricked me.”
She dropped her hand and turned back around. He was still wearing the khaki pants and dress shirt she had ironed for him this morning. The tie was probably still hanging on his doorknob. The coat was probably on his bedroom floor. Today was supposed to have been a good day.
She leaned back against the wall and looked up at the ceiling. “That’s what they do, Mark. That’s how they catch criminals.”
“But it’s not fair. I’m not a criminal.”
“Depends on your definition.” The words didn’t come easy.
“Come on, Mom. I’ll make this up to you. I promise I will. I’ll work every day this summer at the clinic, and you don’t have to pay me or anything.”
Suddenly she realized that Mark just didn’t get it. He was standing there looking at her, pleading, as if she had a decision to make. “Mark, don’t you understand? You’ve broken the law. You’re sitting in a police station. I’m not the judge! It’s out of my hands.”
“It’s not out of your hands,” he said. “You can get me a lawyer.”
“Of course I’ll get you a lawyer, but that doesn’t mean you’re going home.”
“But you’re my mother. They can’t hold me here. I’m only fifteen. It’s not like I shot somebody and have to be tried as an adult.”
“Mark, don’t you understand what you’ve done? This isn’t like when you broke a rule at school and got suspended. This is the law. You broke it, and you’ve been arrested. They have evidence.”
“But it’s practically my first offense.”
“It is not your first offense. It’s your third offense. There were those little matters of car theft and vandalism.”
“But I didn’t do those things, Mom. I didn’t steal Craig’s old man’s car, and I didn’t so much as pick up a can of spray paint at their school. I just got run in with them. I was practically an innocent bystander.”
She wanted to break the closest thing she could reach, but since that was Mark, she pulled the chair back out and sat down. Mark slowly took the chair across from her. She sat there, face in hands, staring at her son. Was he really oblivious to what lay ahead of him?
“Mark, I don’t even know any lawyers in Breezewood. I haven’t needed a lawyer since my divorce, and that was in Knoxville. Steve is working on trying to get one. He knows somebody at our church. But I can’t believe I’ll have to hire a lawyer to defend you for selling drugs.”
“Mom, I’ve learned my lesson, okay?”
She dropped her face back in her hands and squelched the urge to scream. How could he treat this like it was a traffic violation? She leaned forward and locked onto his blue eyes. They looked so soft, so innocent. He was too young to be facing a charge like this. Too young to commit this kind of crime. Too young to grasp the reality involved.
Her mouth trembled. “Mark, I was so proud of you last week,” she said. “You hit a home run the night of your birthday. And then just a week before that you finished the school year with Brenda and made all A’s and B’s. I thought maybe we were finally seeing light at the end of the tunnel, that there was hope that you’d gotten through that rebellious phase, and that now you were trying to buckle down and do the right things. I didn’t know you were out buying drugs and selling them.”
“So I guess now you’re not going to let me go out of the house for the rest of my life.”
Her eyes shot up like a backdraft blaze, and she almost dove across the table. “Mark, don’t you understand? The State of Tennessee may not let you out of the house! You may be locked up in the juvenile detention center. Do you understand what you’ve done?”
&n
bsp; “No!” he said. “Mom, they don’t lock you up for doing a favor for one friend who turns out to be a Benedict Arnold.”
She wanted to slap him, but she knew better. Holding her hands in the air, she cried, “Yes, they do! They caught you red-handed. You sold drugs to a police officer, Mark. It’s your third offense. Don’t you get it?”
“I didn’t know he was a police officer. He had long hair and a goatee, and looked like a kid. Isn’t there something called entrapment?”
“Mark, you did it. You did it, and that’s all there is to it. They caught you.”
“Okay, so you’ve made your point,” Mark said. He looked down at his finger as he rubbed at a spot on the table. “Mom, I’m really sorry, okay? I’m sorry I messed up your shower. I’m sorry I trusted Ham Carter.”
“Mark, they said the judge won’t see you until the morning, so you’re stuck here at least one night, and I hope that’s all. For the life of me, I hope it’s not going to be longer than that.”
Mark sprang out of his chair, his mouth wide open. “Mom, you’ve got to be kidding! No way can I stay here all night!” He got to his feet, and she saw that he still didn’t get it. His ready-to-leave posture indicated that he thought she was bluffing.
He was still small for his age. He hadn’t been given the height that Rick had. Even though he had just turned fifteen, Mark looked thirteen. She wondered why in the world he would think he could play among criminal types with his stature. Maybe his height was part of the problem. Maybe he was playing the part of big shot to make up for his lack of height.
“Mom, I’m telling you—you can’t leave me here,” he said. “Do you know what happens in these places? You took me to the juvenile center—that River Ranch place—yourself last year. You told me how horrible it was.”
“I thought it would be a deterrent. Never, in a million years, did I think—” She closed her eyes, unable to stop the thoughts of what she had seen there. Kids with rap sheets as long as their arms had filled up those cells. Some had committed violent crimes; others had been in isolation over and over for fighting with other inmates. She shook her head as tears rolled down her face. Maybe they wouldn’t put him there tonight. Maybe he’d be safe…in a cell alone.
Times and Seasons Page 2