Act of Contrition

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Act of Contrition Page 11

by Linda Rettstatt


  “I’m hoping the Barnes’ withdraw the request after they see the medical report on their son.”

  “Is their attorney coming?”

  “He’ll be here. The purpose of this meeting is to allow you to share the information with Matt’s parents about his medical condition prior to the accident. But I’d like to inform them of the new information about the accident, as well.”

  “But the deposition…”

  Milton nodded. “If we present the accident as fitting in with Matt’s state of mind, based upon his condition, I think it will bring an end to this nonsense about a lawsuit.”

  Jenny bit her lip. “I feel like I’m blindsiding them.”

  “They’re suing you for wrongful death. I think we have to use Matt’s condition to level the playing field.”

  “You’re right.”

  Milton rose from his chair. “Okay, then.” He opened a door that connected his office to the conference room. “Have a seat in at the conference table. I’ll see if Ryker’s here and bring them in.”

  Jenny sat at the long polished table and placed the envelope in front of her. Her fingers traced over the jagged scar along her neck, and she self-consciously tugged at her collar. She startled when a door opened and Milton ushered in the Barnes’ and their attorney. The three sat across from her. She felt as though she faced a firing squad.

  August Ryker smiled. “Mrs. Barnes, are you feeling better today?”

  “Yes, thank you,” she murmured.

  Milton sat at Jenny’s right side, facing Ryker. “I requested this meeting because Mrs. Barnes has information that Matthew’s parents need to hear.”

  Susan’s head jerked up, and she stared hard at Jenny. “I suppose you’re going to try to convince us that you had nothing to do with killing our son and grandson.”

  Ryker set a hand on his client’s arm.

  Milton leaned forward. “You’re correct that what happened may not have been an accident, as the police reports indicated.”

  “What?” William Barnes shouted.

  Milton turned to Jenny. “Would you please show Mr. Ryker the information you discovered?”

  With trembling hands, Jenny pulled the medical report from the envelope and slid it across the table.

  The attorney picked it up and scanned it, then passed it to his clients. “Did you know about this?”

  Susan’s hand flew to her mouth, and tears filled her eyes. “Oh. Oh, God.”

  William glared at Jenny. “Why didn’t you tell us about this sooner?”

  “I assumed you knew. Matt didn’t tell me before… I found that report in his desk, along with his revised Will.”

  Milton spoke. “I think that report, coupled with the fact that Matt didn’t tell either his wife or his parents about his condition, speaks to his state of mind at the time of the accident.”

  Ryker rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on. There’s no way to prove that.”

  Milton nodded to Jenny. “Would you please tell Mr. Ryker and the Barnes’ what you recalled that day of the deposition?”

  Jenny cleared her throat and settled her shaking hands in her lap. “I…uh…” She glanced at the faces of William and Susan Barnes then averted her gaze, settling on the tabletop. “I remembered something I hadn’t before. Matt and I had been arguing over Cooper, something Cooper wanted to do. I’d said no, and Matt had said yes.” Her eyes flitted over Susan’s ashen face. “I’d asked Matt for a divorce earlier that week. When we argued in the car, he—” She gulped and drew in a quick breath. “That’s when he grabbed the steering wheel and jerked it. He said, ‘I can end this right now’, and he steered us into the path of the truck.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” William’s voice boomed. “My son would never kill himself, much less his family.”

  Susan wept softly, slumped back in her chair.

  Milton rested a reassuring hand on Jenny’s shoulder. “Mr. Ryker, you saw the effect the memory had on Mrs. Barnes—Jenny—during the deposition. She could not have manufactured a reaction like that.”

  Susan Barnes leapt to her feet, pointing an accusing finger at Jenny. “She’s responsible. She knew about his condition and the Will. She killed my son to get his money! And now she’s trying to make it look like he… I want her charged with murder!”

  Jenny gasped and turned to her attorney.

  “Mr. Ryker, would you calm your client, please?” Milton asked, tightening his grip on Jenny’s shoulder.

  William Barnes subdued his wife.

  Something clicked in Jenny.

  Patrick’s words about the fearless young woman she had once been echoed in her mind.

  She gripped the edge of the table and sat forward. “I know how hard this is for both of you. You lost your only child and your grandchild.” She steadied her eyes on the couple. “I lost my husband and son. It’s no secret that you thought Matt could have done better than marrying me. I’m not the daughter-in-law you’d hoped for. I couldn’t change that, no matter how I tried. But I did my best to do right by Matt and Cooper. I won’t go into details of our marriage. I will say that things reached a point where both Matt and I were miserable. And it was starting to affect Cooper. That’s when I decided we’d be better off divorcing.”

  Susan straightened in her chair. “Yes, so you could soak our son for alimony and child support,” she spat.

  Jenny sat quietly for a moment, weighing her response. “It was my intention to ask for nothing for myself. Only for Cooper.” She lifted her eyes to Susan. “We agree on one thing—my marriage to Matt was a mistake. He and I both did our best for a while to make it work. It didn’t.” She paused. She couldn’t further disparage Matt by telling his parents of the emotional and physical violence that occurred. “I know Matt was upset about the divorce. I can only imagine that’s why he didn’t tell me about his medical condition. If I’d known…”

  “You’d have gotten out sooner?” Susan asked, anger flaring in her eyes.

  “No. I’d have stood by him, cared for him until… Through whatever came.” Jenny shook her head. “I didn’t know. But I do know that, for whatever reason or maybe no reason at all, he grabbed the wheel that night and steered us into the oncoming truck. I don’t think he was thinking clearly when he did it. And I don’t blame him.”

  Silence lay over the room.

  August Ryker was the first to speak. “Could I have a moment alone with my clients?”

  Milton nodded. “Of course. Jenny, let’s go to my office. Let us know when you’re finished, Mr. Ryker.” He held the door for Jenny to pass.

  Jenny dropped into a chair in front of his desk, her whole body shaking. “They hate me, even more now.”

  “They need time to process all of this.” He poured a glass of water from the pitcher on a credenza against the wall. “Here, drink this. Do you need anything?”

  Jenny shook her head. She looked up at him. “Could they really charge me with murder?”

  “No. There’s absolutely no evidence of intent or of negligence…”

  He was cut off by a knock on the door. August Ryker stuck his head into the office. “My clients request a copy of the medical report. I’ve asked your secretary to make a copy. I hope that’s okay.”

  Milton crossed the room. “Of course.”

  Ryker stepped inside and closed the door. “I’ve discussed the practicality of dropping their suit and not proceeding with further action against Mrs. Barnes. They’re taking my advice under consideration.” He shifted his gaze to Jenny. “I’m sorry for your loss, too. Both of them. I’ll be in touch with you, Sachs.”

  Jenny stood. “May I speak with the Barnes’ for a moment? Alone?”

  Milton turned. “Are you sure about this?”

  She walked stiffly toward the door. “Yes.”

  “Let me ask my clients.” Ryker returned to the conference room. A moment later, he opened the door and held it wide for Jenny. “I’ll wait with Mr. Sachs.”

  Jenny stepped inside the conf
erence room and stood, trying to still the shaking in her legs. She inched toward the table. “I…uh… I’m not sure what to say. We’ve never been close. I know you’d rather have seen Matt marry someone else. The one thing he and I did right was Cooper. Despite what you both thought of me, you were wonderful grandparents to my son. And he loved you both very much. I’m sorry. Sorry we couldn’t have had a better relationship. I’m sorry for your losses. I’m sorry for mine.”

  She moved forward and sat across from them. “I never thanked you for taking care of the funeral arrangements. I wasn’t able to make those decisions at the time. I know how painful that had to be. We’ll need to talk about…about things…the house. You put the house in Matthew’s name to make a point. It would have gone to Cooper and, now, well… I want you to know I don’t want it. I don’t want anything, except the few things I’ve taken from Cooper’s room, and some photographs and gifts from Matt that remind me of our good times. I did love him in the best way I could.”

  Susan whimpered, and Jenny reflexively reached out to touch her hand. She didn’t pull away.

  “I didn’t kill Matt and Cooper. And I don’t think Matt intended to do so, either. I can imagine your pain, because I lost my only son, too.”

  With that, Susan Barnes met her gaze. Tears blurred Jenny’s vision.

  William placed a hand on his wife’s back, but his eyes met Jenny’s. “All we ever wanted for our son was his happiness. We didn’t think you would provide that for him.”

  “You never gave me a chance or even bothered to get to know me. I tried. So did Matt.” Jenny rose, her fingertips pressing on the table. She walked steadily to the door and into Milton’s office.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Milton Sachs called to tell her the Barnes’ were dropping any action against her. They had also decided not to pursue any claim on the house. Susan and William asked to meet Jenny at the house to pick out a few things to keep in memory of Matt and Cooper.

  Ashley accompanied her. “You’re being really generous to them, you know.”

  “They need something to hold onto, too.” She parked in the driveway. “We all need something to hold onto.” She thought of the boxes filling her trunk, all labeled ‘Cooper’.

  “You also need to move forward.”

  “You sound like Dr. Sprowls.”

  Ashley grinned. “Maybe I missed my calling. Look, I’m going to wait in the car.”

  A Mercedes sedan identical to Matt’s, but sleek black in color, pulled into the drive and parked beside them. Jenny opened her door and climbed out of her SUV. She ascended the front steps, unlocked the door. Her in-laws followed. “I want you to feel free to take whatever you wish.”

  William nodded.

  Susan held back as William walked through the house. “Jenny, I appreciate you meeting us here. This house… We’d hoped this house would bring you and Matt a lifetime of joy and happiness. I guess it takes more than a house to make a home. I wish we could have been closer. Sometimes we realize, too late, what we had.” She started to reach for Jenny’s hand, but withdrew. “We won’t be long.” Her heels clicked on the hardwood as she joined her husband in the den.

  Jenny leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes, drawing in a breath. Sadness overwhelmed her—sadness over the untimely losses of her husband and son. But sadness, too, for what might have been. Would things have been different if she had been accepted by Matt’s family? Would it have changed the outcome? She would never know. She climbed the stairs to her son’s room.

  Jenny looked up when Susan entered Cooper’s bedroom. “I’ve already taken a lot of his things, but I thought you’d like to have this.” She handed over a photograph of Cooper in his soccer uniform, flanked by his grandparents.

  “Oh.” Susan pressed her fingers to her lips as tears spilled down her cheeks. “Our beautiful boy. I miss him so.”

  Jenny nodded. “I know. I do, too.” She stood. “Take your time. I left a few other things on the desk that I thought you and William might want.”

  Susan reached for her, pulling her into an awkward hug, the picture frame caught between them. “I’m sorry. William seems angry with you, but he’s not. He can’t let his pain show. Please don’t hate us.”

  Jenny stiffened in the unfamiliar embrace. “I don’t hate you.”

  “I know you tried to make a home for Cooper and to be happy with Matt. I don’t think divorce is always the answer, but sometimes… My son could be unkind to you at times. He was like his father, never could just say what he felt.”

  Jenny drew away. “It wasn’t all Matt’s fault, either. I’m planning to sell the house. I’m going to use the money to set up a sports scholarship fund in Cooper’s name.”

  Susan swiped at her tears, staring down at the photograph. “Oh, how he loved soccer. That will be a wonderful memorial to him. William and I will contribute, as well.”

  “I’ll let you know the details.” Jenny glanced around the room a final time. “I need to go.”

  At the bottom of the stairs, she ran into her father-in-law. “William, I don’t know what to do with Matt’s car. I can’t drive it. The keys are on the table there. Would you…?”

  “Sign it over to me and I’ll take care of it. Have your attorney send me the papers. I’ll move it to my house in the meantime.”

  “Thank you.”

  He picked up the keys and she saw his jaw clench as he fought emotion. She looked up at Susan who stood on the stairs. “Would you please lock the door when you leave? I’ll come by later and set the alarm. You have my cell number, if you have any questions.”

  ****

  Jenny moved mechanically through the next two days as she and Ashley packed up the last of the household items. Ashley dropped off Matt’s clothing at the Thrift Shop at one of the local churches and made arrangements with a friend who owned a pickup truck to deliver boxes to the Post Office for shipping to Jenny’s Miley’s Cove address.

  “Are you going to put the furniture in storage?” Ashley asked.

  “The realtor wants me to leave the furniture here while the house is shown. He says it could help potential buyers ‘visualize the space’.”

  Ashley nodded. “That makes sense. What are you going to do after the house is sold?”

  “I don’t want any of this stuff. I’ve already arranged to donate it to the women’s shelter. They’re always looking for furniture to help women set up new homes.”

  Ashley finished taping up the last box, then stood and put an arm around her. “Let’s call it a day. I could use a drink. How about you?”

  “Ha. I could use a bottle, but it won’t help. There’s nothing more to do than get these other boxes in the mail. I can do that tomorrow. Dinner’s on me tonight. How about Finnegan’s Pub?”

  “Sounds good. I’ll take this box out to the car.”

  “Thanks. I’ll be there in a minute.” Jenny ascended the stairs and made a last sweep of the master bedroom. Then Cooper’s room. Devoid of action figures strewn on the floor and crayon drawings gracing the walls, the space echoed the emptiness she felt. She blinked back tears and closed the door behind her.

  ****

  The following afternoon, when she reached Freeport, Jenny parked and walked along the shops. She bought a mocha latte and browsed windows already decorated for Christmas. She hadn’t thought about the rapidly approaching holidays. Her aunt and uncle in Colorado had invited her to spend Christmas with their family. She declined, knowing the family scene would be more than she would be able to bear.

  She tossed the empty cup into a trashcan and wandered into LL Bean. In the women’s clothing area, she picked up a few turtlenecks, a wool sweater, and two pairs of boot-cut jeans. Passing through the men’s section, she spied a forest green cable-knit sweater. She draped it over her arm and, on the way to the cash register, picked up a plaid flannel shirt that would be perfect for Mike Doyle.

  Driving up Route 1 toward Camden, her thoughts turned to her conversation wi
th Gavin. He had told her it wasn’t enough to ask for forgiveness. Forgiveness was only valid when one could accept it. He had also suggested that, when one refuses to accept forgiveness, one is arrogant.

  Patrick had made an effort to convey his forgiveness, to offer peace and friendship again. And what had she done? Thrown it back in his face. She sucked in her lower lip and bit down. She had been torn between what she knew was right, and what she felt was safe. Safer to keep a distance with Patrick. They were former lovers tragically separated by a misunderstanding blown way out of proportion. As soon as Jenny let go of that description of their current relationship, they had to become something else.

  It was the ‘something else’ that scared her.

  She pulled off the road at a parking area above an inlet and walked down to a narrow strip of rocky coastline. The sounds and scent of the ocean always calmed her, brought her back to her center. She watched a woman with two small children toss bits of bread out onto the rocks where seagulls dove for the morsels. The kids shrieked louder than the gulls and clapped their hands with delight.

  The smile escaped before she could rein it back in.

  The happy memory smacked up against the sorrow she felt, like a wave at high tide crashing into a sea wall. She felt stripped and empty. But not the dark, looming emptiness that threatened to consume her. This was a different emptiness—one that waited to be filled again.

  That inner voice that had taunted her for the past seven months whispered, You can never truly be happy again, you know. You don’t deserve it.

  Chapter Eighteen

  An envelope stuck inside the screen door dropped when she pulled the door open. She bent and picked it up. Her name was printed on the front. She juggled the box she’d balanced on her hip while she unlocked the front door.

  She set down the box and her purse, opened the envelope. The Rockland Rehabilitation and Nursing Center had invited her to Thanksgiving Dinner as a guest of Mr. Mike Doyle. Mike was the one person who made her feel as if she had never left Miley’s Cove, as if nothing had changed at all.

 

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