Midnight Caller

by Diane Burke

  Tess grabbed her chest. “Did you hear that? The lass said she’s happy he’s a cop. Patrick, you’re a witness. You heard the words pop out of her very own mouth.”

  Erin smiled, which is exactly what she knew her aunt wanted her to do. “Okay, I give up. I’m happy he’s a cop. There, I’ve said it again. But don’t you ever tell Tony.”

  “Watch how fast I hit speed dial,” Tess threatened.

  They chuckled and Erin welcomed the lightened atmosphere.

  “He’s a good lad,” Tess said. “Busy as he is, he still calls four or five times every day.”

  “Six.” Erin looked at them. “What?”

  They laughed out loud at her.

  Tess offered Erin a glass of tea.

  Erin shook her head.

  “Lass, if you don’t drink this, Patrick’s going to hold you while I pour it down your throat. You’ve barely put a thing in your mouth in days.”

  Erin recognized her aunt’s stern, this-is-not-negotiable tone of voice but still refused.

  “You’re not the only one who is worried and scared,” Tess scolded. “We all are, but we’re going through this together. We’re family and that’s what families do. We need to be strong. We need to help one another. Don’t you think those children watch every move we make? They don’t miss a trick and we don’t need to be scarin’ them any more than they already are.”

  “Your aunt’s right.” Patrick glanced at Tess and threw up his hands in mock surrender. “Yes, I’m agreeing with you. Don’t bother faking a heart attack because it isn’t going to happen again.” He looked at Erin. “Don’t you think we should hustle the children inside for lunch? I’ll put the bikes in the garage.”

  Erin finally had a task to do. Something to occupy her mind for more than a moment. A reason to put one foot in front of the other and move forward. She patted the old man’s arm in gratitude as she passed him on her way to get the children.

  Less than thirty minutes later, the five of them gathered around the kitchen table. Erin presented a platter of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, potato chips, apple slices and juice for the kids.

  “Yay, my favorite,” Jack said, already mumbling with peanut butter stuck to the roof of his mouth.

  Tess served the adults thick turkey sandwiches and coffee.

  Erin examined the sandwich. Sour dough bread, lettuce, tomato, mayonnaise and, at least, two inches of meat.

  “The woman knows the way to a man’s heart, doesn’t she?” Patrick asked no one in particular. He attacked his lunch with gusto.

  “Tess,” Erin laughed. “You can’t possibly think I’m going to eat all this. I can’t even fit my mouth around it.”

  “Pretend you’re mad,” Tess said. “Your mouth opens pretty wide when you’re yellin’.”

  Erin grinned, squeezed the bread together as tightly as she could and took a bite. The first bite managed to stay down despite her roiling stomach. The second bite she actually enjoyed. By the time she finished, she was grateful her aunt had been so insistent. It was delicious and she hadn’t realized just how hungry she had been.

  Jack’s plate was already half-empty. Amy played with her food but didn’t eat any of it. Erin slid closer to the child and picked up a sandwich triangle. “Here, Amy, take a bite of your sandwich.”

  Amy turned her head away.

  “C’mon, honey. It’s peanut butter and jelly.” She held the sandwich toward the child’s mouth.

  Amy clamped her lips closed, pushed Erin’s arm away and turned her head.

  Erin picked up a small slice of apple. “How about taking a bite of apple?”

  “No.” Amy folded her little arms across her chest and ducked her head down so Erin couldn’t reach her mouth.

  Erin sighed. She had forgotten how stubborn the child could be.

  “Eat, Amy. It’s good,” Jack said.

  Amy looked at Jack and shook her head no.

  “You’ll be sorry.” He picked up the last wedge, waved it back and forth in front of his face. “Mmm-mmm,” he said, took a bite and smacked his lips.

  Amy watched him.

  Jack repeated his performance, peanut butter and jelly oozing out the corners of his mouth. “Yum.” He took another bite.

  Amy lifted her sandwich, took a bite and grinned.

  The adults laughed and clapped.

  “See,” said Tess. “Adults don’t know anything, but Jack can do no wrong in Amy’s world.”

  “That’s the way it should be,” Patrick said. “Follow the male lead.”

  Tess lifted Patrick’s empty plate. “And to think I was just about to sweeten your coffee with my famous Irish recipe. But not anymore. Put that in your pipe and smoke it.”

  Patrick laughed out loud.

  Erin couldn’t help but smile at the interaction between them. Their friendship with each other seemed to grow with each passing day. Love blossoming at their age. Maybe there was hope for her yet. Tony’s face flashed into her mind.

  Erin left her aunt to finish the dishes and she took the children to get washed and ready for their naps.

  “Will you read us a story?” Jack asked.

  Amy jumped up from her bed, grabbed a book, held it upside down and pretended to be reading.

  “Jack, you know story time is for nighttime, not naps.” Erin took the book from Amy’s hands and tucked her back under the covers.

  “I don’t want to take a nap.”

  Erin sat on the edge of his bed. “Sure you do.”

  “I do?”

  “Uh-huh, because only rested children get to stay up late tonight, eat popcorn and watch The Little Mermaid.” Erin smoothed back his hair.

  Jack squeezed his eyes tightly shut and pretended to snore.

  “See you in a little while.” Erin closed the bedroom door. She stopped in the bathroom, ran a comb through her hair and threw some water on her face before she headed back to the kitchen. She had just finished sweeping the floor when she heard Patrick call through the screen door.

  “Tony’s here.”

  Tony. Her heart leaped in her chest just at the mention of his name. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed seeing him these past few days. She put down the broom and hurried onto the porch. Standing beside Patrick and Tess, she watched him get out of his car. She drank in the sight of him. His thick, unkempt hair looked like he had raked his fingers through it a million times. Dark, masculine shades covered those beautiful brown eyes. His white shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows. His tie was loosened.

  I guess it’s true what Aunt Tess says about absence making the heart grow fonder. I’ve missed you, Tony. I want you in my life. She smiled. Who knew? Her smile widened. Just everybody in the whole wide world except me.

  She watched him take off his sunglasses, tuck them in his shirt pocket and start walking across the lawn.

  Erin raised a hand and shaded her eyes against the sun. He walked slowly, purposely and his shoulders sagged as if he carried the weight of the world.

  The smile faded from her face.

  He climbed the stairs and stood inches from her, not acknowledging Tess or Patrick.

  “Erin…” His voice matched the anguish she saw in his eyes.

  “No,” she whispered, clutching her throat with her hand.

  He gently touched her cheek. “I’m so sorry, Erin.”

  “No,” she screamed. She pounded his chest again and again. “Noooooo.”

  He gathered her against him, supporting her collapsing weight with his body. He stroked her hair and whispered comforting words in her ear but her mind refused to hear.

  Erin’s stomach roiled and bile rose to the back of her throat. She lifted her head. “Tony,” she whispered. “Please tell me she isn’t…”

  Pain registered in his eyes. She read his internal struggle as he searched for something to say. She heard Tess crying. Slowly, almost robotically, she turned her head and saw Patrick embracing the older woman. She looked back and gazed over Tony’s shou
lder. Everything started to spin. Earth, sky, clouds, grass tumbled together in unfocused chaos.

  Tony’s hold tightened.

  Erin buried her face into the soft spot below his collarbone. Clinging to him. Burrowing into the strength of him. The only thing keeping her from drowning in this tidal wave of pain and grief was the safe harbor of Tony’s arms.

  TWELVE

  Erin stared at the white floral arrangement that blanketed the casket in front of the altar. Carol loved flowers. She glanced around the church. The pews overflowed with mourners. Neighbors. Coworkers. Former patients. Friends. Look, Carol. See how many people loved you? See how much you’ll be missed?

  Tears slid down her face and dripped onto her black blouse. She swiped a hand across her cheek and stared at the liquid. Tears? I’ve cried so much I didn’t think I had a drop of liquid left.

  Tony, sitting on her left, reached inside his jacket, pulled out a clean white handkerchief and pressed it into her hand.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, sniffing into its softness, and then wadding it into a ball in her fist.

  Patrick’s arm rested across her aunt’s shoulders. Erin smiled. Tess deserved love in her life. Somehow it seemed appropriate that God would gently remind us of the circle of love and loss all in the same place, at the same time. She turned her head and she noticed Robert Stone sitting across the aisle. His eyes were red and swollen, his gaze unfocused and vacant. Erin had difficulty containing her surprise. Amy had been his patient, but Erin hadn’t expected to see Carol’s death affect him so profoundly. She puzzled over it for a bit. Robert had a gentle nature. He was probably thinking about Amy and wondering what would happen to her now. Still…

  The service ended. Tony’s hand on her elbow urged her to stand. Slowly, everyone filed out behind the casket. Erin squinted against the brightness as she stepped from the darkened church into the sunlight.

  It’s the kind of day you like, Carol. Blue sky. Sunny. Not too hot. I know you ordered this weather. I would have ordered pouring rain and pounding thunder. The heavens should cry just as hard as the rest of us.

  Tony ushered her to his car. Once she was inside, he opened the back door for Patrick and Tess and then ran around to the driver’s seat. A motorcycle cop, lights flashing, led the procession. Tony pulled directly behind the hearse. The short drive to the cemetery passed in silence, each person lost in his/her own thoughts and prayers. Erin glanced over her shoulder and out the rear window. Cars stretched as far as the eye could see. Again, tears welled in her eyes. So many people coming to pay their respects.

  Tony parked the car, offered his arm and led her to a folding chair under a canopy. Patrick and Tess followed.

  I’m placing one foot in front of the other. I’m sitting calmly with my hands in my lap. I didn’t know our bodies came equipped with automatic pilot. Or is that you, Carol? Are you pushing me, pulling me, making me do everything right so I don’t ruin your big send-off?

  The minister stood at the head of the grave and waited for everyone to gather.

  Erin couldn’t believe this was happening. She stared straight ahead, unable to wrap her mind around it. Her best friend, her soul sister, was inside that ornately etched casket. She’d never see her again. Never be able to string popcorn or sit together and talk. Never laugh with her over the children’s antics. Never be with her again. A sob clenched her throat, stealing her breath.

  Don’t worry about Amy, Carol. I’ll take good care of her. I promise.

  The funeral director handed Erin a red carnation to place on the casket after the ceremony. You’re not truly gone, Carol. You’ll always be with me. Inside my memories. Inside my heart. And inside that precious little girl you’ve left in my care. Every time she smiles at me, I’ll see a part of you. The best part of you. I’ll see your heart.

  The minister looked over at Erin for permission to start. She nodded. He cleared his throat, opened his Bible and began to pray, “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want…”

  Holding the binoculars to his face, the man watched the proceedings. After a few minutes, boredom made him lower them. It wasn’t any fun watching from all the way over here. He wanted to be at the gravesite but couldn’t take the chance. On television, the police expect the killer to show up. They pretend to be mourners, watch the crowd and try to identify “a person of interest.” He was too smart for their tricks.

  He thought about Carol. He had kept her alive longer than the others. She had needed extra punishment. Everybody thought she was so sweet and nice. But he knew better. She could be mean. Very, very mean. He made her sorry for the way she acted in the hospital cafeteria. He made her sorry for everything.

  He giggled. Carol had been so excited about her date that night. She’d been so preoccupied with checking her makeup for the millionth time in a silly little hand mirror that she hadn’t heard him approach. She looked surprised to see him when he stepped out of the shadows. The memory of her expression made him giggle. She was mad that he had startled her. Then, she got scared. Real scared. His giggles became a laugh.

  He lifted the binoculars, focused in tighter and stared at Erin. More giggles escaped his lips. In a childlike chant, he sang, “It’s your turn. It’s your turn. Come out and play with me.”

  “I’m sorry about Carol. We’ll miss her.” The hospital administrator and his wife paused by the front door and offered their condolences.

  “Thank you. And thank you both for coming.” Erin ushered them through the open doorway.

  Small groups of people still lingered around the food-laden dining room table and others wandered in and out of the house. Many of them Erin had barely recognized. She tried to be a gracious hostess but found herself wondering if they came to pay their respects or if the notoriety of Carol’s death brought them out to gawk and gossip. She nodded and politely smiled whenever someone caught her eye, but she avoided conversation while she walked through the rooms and down the hall to check on the children.

  Erin eased open the bedroom door and stepped inside. Jack had kicked off his blanket. Bending down, she picked it up, tucked it back around him and kissed his forehead. Stepping across to the other twin bed, Erin stared down at Amy. The child’s thumb rested loosely between her partially opened lips. Her flushed cheeks resembled an artist’s rendition of a cherub, her chest rose and fell in the natural rhythm of sleep. Tears welled in Erin’s eyes but she held them back.

  “Are you okay?”

  Erin started at the sound of the male voice and looked up to see Tony standing in the doorway. She placed a silencing finger against her lips and gestured him out of the room, pulling the door closed behind her.

  “I’m fine,” she whispered. “Let’s talk someplace else. I don’t want to wake them.”

  He clasped her hand, weaved through the small crowd of people in the kitchen and didn’t stop until they reached the steps on the back deck. He sat on the top step and pulled her down beside him.

  “I can’t sit out here,” Erin protested. “I have to help Tess. There are still people in the house. Did you see the food? I’ve never seen so many casseroles in my life. We couldn’t possibly eat all that food. I have to help her pack it up and—”

  “Tess is in her glory.” He cradled her against his side. “She’s doing what she does best and what makes her feel the most useful. She doesn’t need you in there right now.”

  Erin contemplated his words. He was right. They were all coping with their grief in their own way. Tess needed to feel useful and to stay busy.

  Tony tilted her chin and smiled into her eyes. “Besides, last time I looked, Patrick was wrapped in an apron and drying dishes. I don’t think we should ruin a beautiful thing.”

  Erin returned the smile and nodded.

  “You look exhausted.” Tony brushed a lock of hair from her forehead.

  “I am exhausted. I don’t think I’ve had more than four hours of solid sleep at one time since Carol disappeared.” She gently eased away from him, not want
ing to be comforted or to feel that all was right with the world when it wasn’t. Instead of taking offense, he seemed to understand and remained beside her in companionable silence.

  “I can’t believe Carol’s parents didn’t come. What kind of people don’t come to their only daughter’s funeral?”

  “The kind of parents who are scared to death they may be asked to care for their Down syndrome grandchild.” Erin couldn’t stop her teeth from clenching or keep anger from lacing her words.

  “Have they ever met Amy?” Tony asked.

  “No. They couldn’t understand her insistence to have a child without a man in her life. Her father is a minister of an ultraconservative church. He believes anything other than conceiving through marriage is a sin.”

  Tony shook his head but refrained from comment.

  “Did Carol know about Amy before she was born?”

  “Yes. But she loved Amy from the very first ultrasound.” Erin swiped a tear off her cheek. “And once she actually held her…no one could pry that child away.”

  Tony smiled. “I can understand why. She’s a beautiful little girl. And what a personality.”

  Erin smiled. “I couldn’t agree more.”

  “And the grandparents? They didn’t come around after Amy was born?”

  “When Carol discovered she carried a Down syndrome baby, her parents took it as a sign God was punishing her. They disowned her. They haven’t spoken since.”

  “Remind me not to visit their church. Seems the preacher missed the lessons the Bible teaches on forgiveness and compassion.”

  Erin nodded.

  “What happens to Amy now?”

  “I adopt her.”

  Tony raised an eyebrow. “Can you do that? I mean, legally?”

  “After my father died, Carol and I became sensitive to our situations as single mothers and wanted to protect our children. We had a lawyer draw up guardian papers years ago. She’d raise Jack if anything happened to me and I’d raise Amy if…” Erin’s body shuddered. “It was a safety precaution like air bags in automobiles. You never expect them to go off, but you feel safer knowing they’re in place.”