The Girl Next Door

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The Girl Next Door Page 6

by MacDonald, Patricia


  Duncan stared at it for a moment and then replaced the photo of his late wife on the surface of the piano. “Shall we go and see Jimmy?” he said.

  Nina was a little taken aback by the abrupt change of subject. “Uh … I don’t know. I have to call him.”

  “Does he know we’re arriving today?” Duncan asked.

  “No. It was so sudden. I didn’t have a chance to call him. I’ll call him now.”

  “I’ll take my bag up,” said Duncan, heading for the stairs.

  “Okay,” said Nina, feeling vaguely troubled. She glanced back at the photo of her mother, a high school girl smiling with such innocence and hopefulness, completely unaware of the violent, bloody way her life would end. People always wished they knew the future, she thought. It was better not to know. How many people would really want to go on if they knew what the end would be? With a sigh, she went into the kitchen and sat down next to where the phone was hanging on the wall. She dialed her brother’s number and waited while it rang.

  JIMMY was having his AA meeting at the Presbyterian Church Fellowship Hall. He had told Nina to meet him there. Nina indicated a slatted park bench in front of the church, and she and Duncan sat down. There was a gaslight beside the bench that was beginning to illuminate as the light of day faded. “This way we can see him come out when the meeting’s over,” she said.

  Nina shivered and jammed her hands into the pocket of her fleece-lined jacket. She glanced at her father, who was only wearing a gray windbreaker. He did not seem to notice the falling temperatures as afternoon turned to evening.

  “Aren’t you cold?” she said.

  Duncan started as if she had awakened him. “What? No. No, not really. I mean I’m used to it. It was always cold in … there. They always claimed there was nothing they could do about the lack of heat. Except in summer, of course, when we’d swelter. You’d get so you barely noticed it.”

  “I guess so,” she said.

  “So, Jimmy’s sticking with the sobriety,” Duncan said.

  Nina nodded. “It’s been almost … ten years now.”

  “And he’s got a job,” said Duncan.

  “Yeah. He works at Hoffman Flooring. He’s been there for a while.”

  “He turned his life around,” said Duncan. “It’s hard to believe.”

  “I know,” said Nina. “Considering the way he was.”

  “What happened to that Mears kid he hung around with?” Duncan asked.

  “I don’t know.” Nina said. “I asked Jimmy and he said that Mears had to leave town. Something about a kid dying of a drug overdose. Mears was involved somehow.”

  “Was he charged?”

  “I really don’t know, Dad. I don’t think so. I don’t think there was any real proof.”

  Duncan shook his head. “There was something evil about that kid.”

  “Yeah,” Nina agreed. “Things started to turn around for Jimmy once he got away from him and got into rehab.”

  “I’m so glad,” said Duncan.

  Nina saw the door of the Fellowship Hall open. “I think it’s over.”

  They got up from the bench and crossed the street as people began to stream out, passing them as they approached the building. They exuded the smell of cigarette smoke and coffee in the crisp autumn evening.

  Nina edged past several people and walked into the Fellowship Hall. A broad-shouldered man with a wide neck was emptying ashtrays and collecting used Styrofoam coffee cups.

  “Jimmy,” she said. “Come on. Dad’s waiting.”

  Jimmy looked up at her sheepishly. His once unruly black hair was now cut close to the scalp in military fashion. His muscles bulged beneath a faded short-sleeved golf shirt. “Just cleaning up,” he said.

  “Couldn’t somebody else clean up tonight?” she demanded.

  “Just give me a minute,” Jimmy said, and Nina had the overwhelming impression that he was stalling for some reason.

  “Hey. Is this a private party?” said a voice from the doorway.

  Nina turned around and saw her father leaning into the room.

  Jimmy piled the empty ashtrays on the table and wiped his hands on a dish towel. “Hi, Dad,” he said faintly.

  Duncan came into the room and walked up to Jimmy, lifting his arms as if to clasp him in an embrace. Jimmy stuck out his hand and Duncan took it, reluctantly. Jimmy shook hands and nodded, meeting Duncan’s gaze only briefly.

  “How are you, son?” Duncan asked.

  “I’m doing okay. How about you?”

  Nina could see her father’s eyes glistening. “Okay,” he said.

  Jimmy sighed and then pursed his lips and blew out a breath. “So. Nina says you came back here to look for a place.”

  “Yeah, I wanted to be near you and your brother. I’ve missed you kids so much. I want to try and make up for some lost time.”

  “Yeah,” said Jimmy with forced enthusiasm. “Maybe we could do that.”

  “How about we start with dinner tonight? I can afford to take you out somewhere fancy like the Bun and Burger. As long as you don’t order dessert,” Duncan said, smiling.

  Jimmy grimaced. “Actually, Rose told me to … invite you to the house.”

  Duncan nodded, pressing his lips together. “Isn’t that nice? What do you say, Nina?”

  “Sure,” she said, although she would have much preferred for the three of them to be alone. She could tell by the look in his eyes that Duncan was weary and felt the same way. But he was not about to decline the invitation.

  “All right, then,” said Duncan. “Lead the way.

  GEORGE and Rose Connelly’s house was a modest bungalow with a small, neatly tended yard and a bright standing lantern that threw out a welcoming arc of light. A foot-high statue of the Virgin Mary, set inside a pale blue starry niche, stood in the front garden near the steps. A bouquet of red artificial roses in the vase near her feet were a jarring note in the otherwise browning shrubbery of autumn.

  Nina parked behind Jimmy’s Saturn and she and Duncan followed him up the front steps. He opened the door and called out, “Hello. I’m home.” The front of the house had a dark glassed-in porch with canvas-covered porch furniture. But it was bright inside the house, and an appealing smell wafted out to the darkened porch.

  “Come on in,” said Jimmy, leading the way through the open front door. “You can have a seat.” He gestured toward the matching taupe sofa and love seat perpendicular to one another against the living room walls. Above the sofas were a bevy of framed family photos, many of them including Jimmy, and an assortment of acrylic landscapes in tubular aluminum frames. There was also a framed picture of a haloed Jesus.

  Despite Jimmy’s suggestion, Nina and Duncan remained standing. Rose Connelly came out of the kitchen wiping her hands on a dish towel. She was a short, stout woman with a blond perm. She was wearing a Western-style denim shirt with pearl snaps up the front and pink flowers embroidered across the yoke.

  Jimmy reached out and put a protective arm around her shoulders.

  “Hi, sweetie,” she said.

  “Mom, you remember my father, and Nina.”

  Rose smiled at Nina. “Hello, dear.” Then she nodded at Duncan. “Dr. Avery,” she said.

  “Hello, Rose. You’re looking well,” said Duncan.

  “Something smells great,” said Nina, trying to ignore the strained smile on Rose’s face and her own unease at hearing Jimmy call this woman “Mom.”

  “I made a stew for dinner. I hope that’s okay. Go get George, honey,” she said to Jimmy. “He’s out in his workshop. Sit down, sit down.”

  “This is so nice of you,” said Nina, slipping off her coat and holding out her hand for Duncan’s jacket. “Where can I put these?”

  “Just lay them on the glider on the sunporch. Dr. Avery, can I get you a drink? We have beer, or wine coolers.”

  “Uh, no,” said Duncan. “I’m not allowed to have alcohol. Conditions of parole. And call me Duncan. Please.”

  Rose nodd
ed, but Nina saw something stiff and disapproving in Rose’s expression. Rose had always been warm and friendly to Nina when she visited in the past. There was a distinctly different atmosphere to this visit. Nina deposited the coats on the porch and came back into the living room, seating herself beside Duncan on the love seat. Rose sat in a wooden Windsor-style armchair across the room, beside the gas fireplace.

  “So, Jimmy tells me that you two are staying at your aunt’s house?” Rose asked politely.

  “Just temporarily,” said Nina. “We need to find a more permanent place for Dad. Do you know of anybody who has an apartment?”

  “Around here? No, oh no,” said Rose quickly, frowning as if Nina had suggested the impossible. “There’s nothing.”

  Nothing, Nina thought? Rose Connelly had lived here for years. Surely she would know someone with an apartment to rent. If she wanted to help. Nina reminded herself not to take offense. Rose and her husband, George, had done her family a great favor.

  “How is Anthony doing?” Duncan asked.

  The harsh expression on Rose’s face softened. “He’s doing fine. Healthy as a horse. Knock on wood,” she said, tapping on the arm of her chair. “Graduates from college this year. He’s going to go to medical school,” Rose said proudly.

  “That’s wonderful,” said Duncan. “If there’s any way I can help, any advice about managing the work …”

  Rose’s smile disappeared. “That won’t be necessary,” she said coolly. “Oh, they’re here,” she said, relief in her voice as she looked through the archway into the dining room.

  George Connelly came in, trailed by Jimmy. Their former postman was graying, but still trim, and wore the same jovial expression that Nina remembered from childhood when he would greet her by name at the front door as she ran to get the mail.

  Duncan stood up as George entered the room and extended his hand. “George.”

  George brushed Duncan’s hand away and gave him a quick embrace, clapping him heartily on the back. “Good to see you, Doc,” he said.

  Duncan looked at Jimmy, who fidgeted uncomfortably under his gaze, and then back at George. “I’m glad I can thank you in person for all you’ve done for my boy.”

  George shook his head. “It’s been our pleasure, Doc. We love this boy like our own son.” He gazed at Jimmy, who smiled shyly at the ground.

  Duncan nodded. “Of course, he’s imposed on your hospitality for rather a long time. I never meant for him to become a permanent fixture under your roof.”

  “I don’t really think of that as a problem,” Rose said sharply.

  “Jimmy will always have a home here,” George said in a soothing tone. “Rose, that dinner smells so good. Can we eat?”

  ROSE served the meal in dutiful silence while Duncan and George talked about fishing. George had a skiff he kept on a trailer down by the river. Duncan always claimed that he never had time to fish, but even when George was their mailman, he and Duncan would have long conversations about what was biting and the relative merits of different kinds of bait.

  “We might still get a day or two in before the boat’s got to come out of the water for the winter,” said George. “The three of us can go. You, me, and Jimmy.”

  Nina glanced at her brother. He had been silent through much of the meal, and his face was contorted with anxiety. He was clearly suffering, as she was, from the tension that would descend on the table whenever the conversation flagged.

  Almost as soon as they set down their forks, Nina suggested that they should be getting home. They got up from the table and thanked Rose for her dinner. She remained seated, insisting politely that it was no trouble. George got up to bid them farewell and Jimmy accompanied them to the door. The three of them stood in awkward silence on the darkened sunporch.

  “Well, we’d better be going.” Duncan reached out and put his arm awkwardly around Jimmy’s shoulders. His voice was husky when he spoke. “I just want you to know that I’m proud of you, Jim. I know addiction is a hard battle. I’m proud of the way you took your life in hand.”

  “Working in a flooring place,” Jimmy demurred. “It’s not like being a doctor.”

  “Hey, it’s honest work,” said Duncan. “I think it’s great. I think you’re great.”

  Jimmy shook off Duncan’s embrace. “Stop it, Dad. Just stop it.”

  “Jimmy,” said Nina in a warning tone.

  Even in the dim light of the porch, Nina could see Jimmy’s eyes glistening, and there was a pained expression on his face. “I can’t handle this.”

  “Handle what?” Duncan asked, perplexed. “All I said was that I was proud of you.”

  “You don’t even know me,” Jimmy cried. Without a word of farewell, he turned and rushed back inside the house.

  5

  DUNCAN sat silently beside her in the car. Nina glanced at his stony profile and fumed at the memory of her brother’s behavior. “I’m so sorry about that scene with Jimmy,” she said, breaking the silence. “He’s kind of a high-strung guy. I’m sure he didn’t mean to be so …”

  “Stop apologizing, Nina. You don’t owe me any apologies.”

  “This is why I didn’t want you coming back to Hoffman. I mean, everywhere you turn you’re running into this kind of thing. People can be so cruel.”

  Duncan snorted. “You have no idea, Nina. You could never imagine, in your wildest dreams, how brutal and inhuman people can be to one another,” he said in an expressionless voice.

  Nina knew he was talking about his life in prison. “How did you stand it?” she asked cautiously. “Especially knowing you were innocent. It must have been horrible. I can’t even imagine how horrible,” said Nina. “And after all you went through … Jimmy acts like he’s the one who’s suffered. Honestly, it makes me want to scream.”

  Duncan was silent for a moment. Then he said, “Your brother really seems to have made a home with the Connellys.”

  “Yeah, maybe too much,” said Nina. “Patrick’s afraid he’s going to live there forever.”

  “He calls her Mom,” said Duncan.

  “I noticed,” said Nina. She drove along in silence for a moment. Then she said, “Why did Jimmy go to live with the Connellys, Dad? I mean, we hardly knew them. Mr. Connelly was our mailman. I never really understood how he ended up there.”

  Duncan did not answer right away. For a moment Nina wondered if her question had registered. She glanced over at his brooding profile. “Dad?”

  Duncan shook his head. “The Connellys wanted to help because of Anthony. They were grateful and they wanted to help. And I thought … I could see what strong people they were. Good people. I knew it would take a lot of strength to get him away from … the drugs. I thought I could trust them to do … what was best for Jimmy.”

  “Well, in all fairness, I’d say you were right about that,” she admitted.

  “Your mother always blamed Jimmy’s problems on me, you know. She said I was a terrible father.”

  “That wasn’t true,” said Nina loyally.

  “I don’t know,” Duncan said wearily. “Maybe it was.”

  NINA had left the lights on, so the house glowed cheerfully as she pulled her aunt’s old Volvo into the driveway. She got out of the car and inhaled deeply of the autumn night. “It does smell good here, doesn’t it?” she said to her father, who had emerged from the passenger side.

  “You can’t imagine,” he said.

  “Let’s go in. I’m tired. I don’t know about you.”

  Duncan frowned. “I think I’m going to take a little stroll.”

  For some reason, the idea of him out walking alone in the dark filled her with anxiety. “It’s kind of late,” she said. “It’s dark.”

  “I’m not afraid of the dark,” he said.

  “I know, but …”

  “Nina,” Duncan snapped. “Don’t be my jailer. Please. I don’t need any more of that.”

  Nina shook her head. “I’m sorry, Dad. You’re right. I don’t know what’s the m
atter with me.”

  He shoved his hands in the pockets of his windbreaker and started off down the driveway, the leaves crunching and rustling around his feet. Nina turned and went into the house after he had disappeared from view.

  The house felt damp and chilly, so she turned up the thermostat, and she switched on the TV so the noise would keep her company. Everywhere she looked there were little jobs to do. Obviously, Aunt Mary had been letting the housekeeping slide because of her age and her bad hip. Nina dusted off the piano keys and closed the instrument’s lid, straightened up a pile of magazines, and took a bunch of old newspapers into the back room for recycling. She looked in the empty refrigerator and sighed, knowing she needed to go to the store the next day. But first things first. She had to check her messages, to see if her agent had any news for her. She fished her cell phone out of her satchel on the kitchen table and punched in the numbers to reach her voice mail.

  “Yeah, Nina,” said the gravelly voice of Len Weinberg, who had been her agent since the start of her career. “You got Monday and Tuesday free like you wanted. But you’ve got three auditions after that. Wednesday morning you have an audition for Seasons Cosmetics and you have to be in the chair by six a.m.”

  Six a.m., Nina thought. She’d have to take the bus into the city Tuesday or she’d never make it on time. As she listened to the rest of Len’s message, she wandered back into the living room and flopped down on the couch, gazing absently at the talking heads on the news. All of a sudden, she saw her father’s face pictured on the screen. It was a recent photo, taken during a jailhouse interview after he won his parole. She put down her phone, grabbed the remote, and turned up the volume.

  “Authorities here in Hoffman have learned that the convicted wife killer, who was once a respected physician, has moved back into their community. The news has some people worried. We talked to the chief of police, who had this to say.”

  An image of a stocky red-haired man filled the screen. His tie was tight against a stark white collar. Under his solemn face, the footage was captioned “Chief Eugene Perry, Hoffman Police.” Nina did not recognize the new chief from the time of her mother’s murder. “I’m aware of Dr. Avery’s history,” Chief Perry said. “It’s nothing for people to be concerned about. He does not pose a threat to the community.”

 

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