Sherry imagined what it would be like to wake in the morning to the sun shining through the venetian blinds and lace curtains. Despite all the dark furniture the room had a certain charm. Mark's stereo sat on another mahogany piece, a chest of drawers, just to the left of the door. An oak table, darkened with age, held his small screen TV. His desk was the only light piece in the room. The white laminated pressboard writing space was supported by black tubular legs which extended up at the back to hold a shelf loaded with books. To the right of it was a six-foot-tall bookcase with sliding glass doors. Books, trophies and other collections crowded the shelves. In the corner between the north window and an east window sat a chair that looked like it was from the thirties or forties.
She laid his briefcase on his desk and dropped her bag of clothes. A flash of light on the windows told her a vehicle was coming back the lane. She spread the slats of the blind to look out. The dusk to dawn lights were on and she could tell it was a police cruiser. She went down to let him in.
Turner got right down to business. "Is there somewhere we can talk private? My shift ended a couple hours ago and I'd like to get home to supper so I want to get this over with ASAP."
She led him to the den and sat down on the love seat that had replaced the daybed. He pulled the office chair from the desk in the corner and placed a tape recorder on the end table beside her. He sat down in front of her and began to ask questions ending with, "Miss Winnette, I am going to ask you a question in which I want your opinion since you know your mother and I don't. The damage done to your property is rather extensive. Do you believe your mother had an accomplice?"
"Maybe. But Mom could have done all that. She can really break things up when she goes into a rage."
"Then something like this has happened before?"
"Yeah. Sort of. I was always there to talk her down before. I wasn't home this time. The first time was when I was thirteen. I didn't understand what was happening then. I was too green to handle damage control."
"What set her off that time?"
"She needed money and wanted to sell my guitar. She told me she was going to sell it the next day. She was already at work when I left for school. I took my guitar along and hid it under the bed in my best friend's bedroom.
"Mom flew into a rage because I wouldn't tell her where it was. She began throwing things and breaking up housekeeping. I pleaded with her to stop. I was yelling, 'Mom, stop! Please stop!' The upstairs neighbors called the police because they thought she was beating me. The cops got her settled down. I talked them out of arresting her. After they left we cleaned up the place. She didn't talk to me because she was still angry with me but she got over it.
"There have only been a couple incidents since then. All of them minor because I knew what was happening and talked her down. But I can believe she was capable of the destruction she caused today."
He asked a few more questions, ending with, "That will be all then. I need to talk to Mrs. Blakely a minute and then I'll be on my way. We'll try to get your guitar and other things back for you but there are no guarantees."
****
"Where's Mark?" Jan asked as Frank came into the kitchen where she was taking the biscuits from the oven.
"Finishing up." He looked at the biscuits. "Store bought."
"I'm tired! This hasn't been the greatest of days."
"I wasn't complaining. Merely stating a fact. I need to talk to you." He went on to explain what had happened in the milk house. "I can understand him being mad but he didn't have to call Sherry 'Alison Winnette's little bastard.' She slapped him hard. He still has a mark on his face but he asked for it."
"Sherry didn't tell me that part," Jan said. "I could tell she was upset. Turner was here to talk to her."
"Where is she?"
"Up in Mark's room. She said she needs to think."
"I just wanted to make sure you knew the details before Mark gives you his spin on things."
"If you would move out of my way..."
He grinned down at her. "I like being in your way." He put his hands on her shoulders and leaned to kiss her. As the kiss deepened he folded his arms around her and her arms went around his neck. He slid his hands down to cup them around her buttocks and press her tightly against him. Mark's sharp whistle broke the spell. Jan pulled back and Frank let her go reluctantly. He leaned to whisper in her ear, "Tonight."
Mark asked, "Where's Sherry?"
"Up in your room. Mark, she said something that puzzles me. She asked if it was okay if she sleeps with you tonight. Then she said she 'needs your strength.' I'm not sure what she meant by that."
"She means just what she said," Frank interposed as he came back to the kitchen. "She needs someone to lean on. She's just been sucker punched by her own mother and her inner strength is depleted."
"Go tell her supper's ready," Jan ordered.
Mark took off at a trot. "Don't run in the house!" Jan called after him. She placed a red and white checked napkin in the bread basket and put in the biscuits. "He's worse now than when he was little. He's too big for me to spank anymore."
Mark took the stairs two at a time and jogged back the hall. When he saw the open bedroom door and no light on he wondered where Sherry was. His shadow blocked most of the light from the hall. He reached over and flipped on the overhead light.
Sherry clapped her hands over her eyes and sat up so fast she almost fell off the chair. "You could have warned me before you turned on the light." She shaded her eyes with her hands.
Grinning, he walked over and took her hands to pull her to her feet and into his arms. After he kissed her he told her, "Mom says supper's ready."
"Good because I'm famished." They turned to the door with Mark keeping his arm around her. At the bathroom door she pulled away. "I have to go." She ducked in the door, closed it and locked it before he could react.
He continued on downstairs. "Sherry will be down in a minute. She had to make a pit stop."
"Go wash your hands," Jan ordered.
Mark looked at his hands. "I just had them in disinfectant. They aren't dirty."
Jan finished filling a large white tureen with beef stew from the slow cooker. Frank set it on the table. "As soon as Sherry gets here..."
"Sherry's here," she said as she walked in the room. Mark held a chair to seat her to his father's left. Jan was filling glasses with cold milk. She put a glass of milk at each place and sat down and bowed her head.
"Father God," Frank prayed. "Bless this meal and the woman who cooked it. Bless those that are gathered here to enjoy it. And please, God, we could use a little less rain until the soybeans are harvested. Guide Sherry as she tries to put her life back together. Bless her and Mark and fill their life with love. In Jesus' name. Amen."
Sherry added her "Amen" to Jan's and Mark's. She choked up a little when Frank prayed for her but then she was ready to turn her attention to the salad before her.
Mark picked up a cruet of salad dressing, and holding the glass stopper in with two fingers, shook it vigorously. "This is Mom's own recipe," he told Sherry. "And it is um-um good."
He poured some over his salad and passed it on to Sherry, who passed it on to Frank. She tasted a bit. "It is good." She swirled a chunk of tomato in it and popped it in her mouth. She followed the lead of the family she dined with by spreading a hot biscuit with home-churned butter. She was hungry and the food was good. A wave of nausea washed over her. She stopped eating and took a deep breath.
"Is something wrong?" asked Jan who sat across from her.
"No. It's good. It's just..." She jumped up and ran to the bathroom where they could hear her throwing up.
Jan hurried after her, closing the door to the laundry room on her way through. Sherry was done vomiting and was clinging to the grab bar that had been installed after Frank's mother had a stroke.
"I'm sorry I got some on the seat," she said. "There wasn't time."
"Don't worry about it." Jan pulled off some toilet paper a
nd wiped the seat before flushing the toilet. She heard a soft thud behind her and turned around to find Sherry on the floor. She was propped in the corner where the cabinet beneath the sink met the wall.
"Mark!" Jan yelled at the top of her voice. "Mark!"
"What's wrong?" Mark asked as he opened the laundry room door.
"Sherry fainted. Carry her to the den and lay her on the loveseat."
"Get out of my way!" He squeezed past her to get into the room that was just big enough to have a toilet and vanity sink. He squatted down beside Sherry and lifted her gently. Jan was bringing cushions from the living room when he got to the hallway.
"Just lay her down and I'll put pillows under the feet." Frank stood by watching the proceedings.
Mark leaned over Sherry and patted her face. "Sherry," he called softly. "Sherry, darling."
With a low moan she opened her eyes and lay gazing up at him. She reached up to touch his face. "How did I get here?"
He captured her hand and kissed it. "I carried you. Are you okay?"
"I will be. I did this last week. The time Chad and Linda took me to the hospital. Help me sit up."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure. Now you know why I need you to lean on. So I don't crash again. I need you to help me pick up the pieces and put my life back together. I know I can't do it alone."
"You'll never have to do it alone again, sweetheart. I'll always be here for you."
She laid her hand on her stomach. "That's weird. Even after getting sick like that, I'm hungry. Maybe a little tea and toast will help."
"I'll get it for you."
"I'm not helpless," she protested. "Just a little shaky."
He assisted her to her feet and held her arm as they went to the kitchen. "Sherry would like some tea and toast."
"The water's heating and the bread's in the toaster," Jan said. "I do have ears."
Mark helped Sherry to a chair at the table. She picked up her biscuit nibbled on it tentatively. "I'm sorry but I'm too hungry to wait. I get shaky when I don't eat regularly."
"Maybe you're hypoglycemic," Jan suggested. "Your sugar may have dropped."
After she ate the biscuit and it stayed down, she ate the toast and drank the tea. The Blakelys continued with their meal. "I'm going up to lie down." Sherry stood up.
Mark caught her hand and pulled her down for a kiss. "I'll be up as soon as I eat. Then we'll have that talk."
When he went upstairs, Mark found Sherry sitting cross-legged on the maroon chair. He rolled his desk chair to sit in front of her. "Meditating?"
"It helps me stay calm," she answered.
"Do I upset you that much?"
"Not you. It's what happened today. What Mom did. If you understand that you'll know why I need you so much."
"Here I thought it's because you love me. You did tell me that last night, didn't you? I know I was half drunk but..."
"You weren't hearing things. I did say that and I meant it but there's more to love than sleeping together."
He reached for her hand. "Tell me what you want from me."
"Commitment."
"I promise..."
"Promises are just words that can be broken. Commitment comes from the heart."
He smiled. "Then you have it. I love you, Sherry. I'll do whatever it takes."
"I made a list of things I want to talk to you about but it's over at the house."
"Tell me what you remember."
"Speaking of remembering, I was down at the old swimming hole today. I remembered that day we went swimming there. I remembered how you carried me back to the house. It was like you told me. Mom lied." A look of sadness crossed her face. "Mom lied to me about a lot of things. And now..." Tears wet her lashes and she swallowed hard to get rid of the lump in her throat. Her voice was low and a little choked. "It won't be easy but I have to go on the best I can. It will mean so much to know you will be right there beside me."
"Is there anything else?" He gazed at her with a look of expectancy.
"Yes. I don't want you to take this the wrong way because I don't mean it in a negative sense. Please don't try to dominate me. I know my own mind. I can make intelligent decisions."
"I know that. You did a fine job of raising yourself. I'm sorry about what your mom did to you. I'll try to make it up to you."
"You can't. She is the only one who can do that. If only she hadn't taken my guitar. That hurts."
"Trust the cops to get it back. You know Chad will do all he can to help you. But your mother has committed some serious crimes. Not only did she steal you guitar, she stole your identity. You must face the fact that she will be going to jail when they find her."
"I hope she isn't stupid enough to use that gun. That could land her in real trouble."
Chapter 24
Jan tried to call home but she got the answering machine. She called Frank on his cell. "Where's Sherry?"
"She went home to feed Mitzi and stayed. Said she wants to start cleaning up. I hauled some wood over so she can have some heat in the den, at least. That wind is cold. Why do you want her?"
"I want to tell her Alison's been apprehended. My plan worked perfectly. They took her to McVeytown but she'll be in jail before the day is through. I'll call Sherry at home. I want to make sure she is aware that I helped put her mother in jail. I did what I had to do. And I have a surprise for her. Alison didn't sell her guitar. It was in the trunk of Alison's car. I talked them into letting me park her car in the bank lot for now. I'll bring her guitar home. But they wouldn't let me have her purse and keys. And her bank account is still frozen. I'll talk to you later. Bye."
"Bye. I love you." Frank disconnected.
Jan drew a deep breath before calling Sherry. She knew that the girl loved her mother despite all that Alison had done. She told her what she'd told Frank except the part about the guitar. She wanted that to be a surprise.
As Sherry hung up the phone, a feeling of loneliness washed over her. Her mother was going to jail and there was nothing she could do about it. Nothing she should do. Despite her anger over what Alison had done, Sherry felt compassion for her. Her mother was just so irresponsible at times.
Mitzi was mewing outside the kitchen door so Sherry opened the door and picked her up. She carried her to the den and closed the door. She put Mitzi down on the gold rocking chair and put more wood on the fire. Mitzi curled up and purred herself to sleep.
Sherry sat down in the brown chair and curled up. She felt cold despite the fire's warmth. Tears trickled down her face. Her head was pounding. She hadn't slept well last night. She went to her mattress, which she'd moved to the den, and kicked off her shoes. She snuggled down beneath the comforter and cried herself to sleep.
****
"I saw that the police tape is down and there's smoke coming from the chimney," Mark said as he walked into the kitchen where his father sat with his pre-chore cup of coffee. "I assume Sherry's over there."
"She went home. I hauled a load of wood for her so she can have fire in the fireplace. Did you get that roll of plastic so we can cover those windows?"
"Yeah. It's in the back of my truck." Mark poured a cup of coffee and joined his father at the table. "Is Sherry coming over for supper or do I have to go over for her."
"Neither. Get this through your head right now. Sherry went home."
"She can't live in a house with no heat because the windows are broken out," Mark protested. "I'm going over for her right now."
"It won't work for you to try to force her to come back," Frank argued. "She can be just as stubborn as you."
"So now you admit she's stubborn. I thought you said she's independent."
"Whatever. Just leave her alone for now. She told me that this is something she has to work through. We'll go over after supper to put that plastic on the windows. Then we can assess the situation and go from there, but I think you better decide if you're going to stay with her or come back here without her. You can think about it while w
e're doing the milking."
"Let's go get it done." Mark downed the rest of his coffee and stood up.
Frank had just said the blessing at the supper table when they heard a vehicle outside. Mark looked over at his father. "Sherry?"
Laddie had been lying by his master's side but he stood up with ears pricked at attention. "Not Sherry," Frank answered. "Or Laddie would be barking and dancing around with excitement. Two car doors."
Mark stood up and started to the door with the dog close on his heels. He opened the door to the mudroom just as the outside door opened and Lisa stepped through. "Markie!" she cried and ran to throw her arms around her brother.
"When did you get to be as tall as I am?" Mark asked.
"Since she's wearing high heeled boots," said a young man who followed her in. He held out his hand to Mark. "Troy Hunter. I'm Lisa's boyfriend."
Lisa went on to embrace her parents. Mark took the young man's hand for a friendly shake. "You didn't get those calluses sitting around on campus."
Troy looked at his hand. "Hay and straw bales. My parents own a farm in Lycoming County."
Lisa grabbed Troy's arm and dragged him over to meet her parents. "This is Troy Hunter. He's a sophomore. I wanted you to meet him. Is supper ready? I'm starved."
"You look starved," Jan said. "If fact you look like you've gained a few pounds."
"Sitting around studying doesn't give one much of a workout."
Jan busied herself putting plates on the table for them. "Lisa, next to Mark. Troy can sit beside me. I don't bite." She set the platter of barbequed ribs between them and passed the coleslaw and mashed potatoes.
Lisa began filling her plate. "You'll love Mom's ribs. They're awesome."
No Plans for Love Page 23