by Sharon Potts
“I was sure you’d killed them that night,” Kate said.
Their father’s face lost its color. “Are you sorry I didn’t?”
Kate sucked in her lower lip and looked down at the table. “What did you inject them with?”
“Succinylcholine. I’ve used it for certain procedures at the clinic. It’s a fast-acting anesthetic that paralyzes all the muscles in the body and impairs respiration for several minutes. Enough time to incapacitate them until the police got there.”
“I read about them finding another dead body covered with tattoos,” Kate said. “That was Luis. He was one of the guys that kidnapped me and Joanne.”
“All of the blackmailers have either been caught or are dead,” their father said.
“But that won’t bring Joanne back.” Kate wiped the corner of her eye and rummaged through her pocketbook looking for something. Robbie handed her a paper napkin.
They sipped their beers and watched the egrets fly to the opposite bank.
Some hurts would take way longer than six months to heal, Robbie thought.
Kate blew her nose into the napkin. She looked more composed as she fingered one of the feather earrings. “I still don’t get how a successful guy like Stanford Fieldstone could become involved with someone like Gina Fieldstone.”
It was a question a number of people were asking.
“When Gina first met him,” Robbie said, “he was working for the Department of Justice. Aidan was being held for second-degree murder. Gina managed to get Stanford to drop the charges and marry her. Stanford always knew he’d sold out, but Gina had a way of making him feel important. She was pretty irresistible.”
Kate’s eyes narrowed, like she was about to ask Robbie something. Did she know that Robbie had also been taken in by Gina? But instead, Kate looked down and picked on the scarred wood tabletop. “So what’s happening with him, anyway?” Kate’s voice was strangely upbeat, as though she was trying to sound nonchalant. “You know, it’s weird, but I still think of him as Puck.”
Puck. That’s who he’d always be to Robbie, too.
“He was disbarred and kicked out of the Justice Department because of his involvement in getting the original charges against Aidan dropped,” Robbie said. “I have a feeling he didn’t care. Lieber told me he moved onto his boat and travels from place to place.”
Kate gazed out toward the water. A small fishing boat drifted by. Kate seemed to be slipping back into a memory. “I hope he’s happy,” she said, finally.
No one spoke. Long-necked sandhill cranes called to each other.
Their father’s blue eyes lighted on something behind Robbie and he smiled.
Robbie didn’t need to turn around to know who was there.
“Looks like your ride’s here,” her father said.
Jeremy came to their table, hugged Kate, and shook Robbie’s father’s hand. His hair was short and the beard was gone, but he was wearing jeans and a loose button-down shirt for traveling.
Robbie kissed her father and sister goodbye with promises to see them soon.
She turned to look back when she reached the screened door of the bar. Kate had switched to the other side of the picnic table to sit beside her father and their heads were practically touching.
Her father. Her sister.
Her family. She had a family.
Robbie and Jeremy took their time driving the scenic route in the old red Corvair, stopping at hiking trails and cozy B&Bs along the way. The leaves became more colorful the farther north they went.
Just outside Boston, Jeremy pulled off the highway and followed Robbie’s directions. The narrow road wound through gentle hills covered with woods in full autumn splendor.
Seasons. How beautiful. Robbie had avoided them since her mother died.
Jeremy pulled the car into a small parking area just beyond the wrought iron gates.
The air was cold and Robbie slipped her hands into the pockets of her jacket. It was a good cold and it made Robbie feel alive.
They walked up a paved brick road. Oak trees shaded the rows and rows of rectangular stones, bouquets of flowers, hovering angels.
Robbie walked more quickly now. Almost there. A few more feet. The trees were denser here—maples, elms, and oaks. She stopped at the foot of the familiar white marble stone and touched the grooves of the letters. Beloved Mother.
The sky was so blue it hurt her eyes.
She remembered another day, the trees in many colors.
Yellow, gold, russet, crimson, burgundy, magenta, her mother had said.
A gust of wind stung Robbie’s face. Jeremy put his arm around her and held her close.
Just like that other day, the leaves began to fall. They came down fast and thick, sticking to her hair, blanketing the grass, the graves.
Nothing is forever, her mother had said.
Robbie began to cry.
Jeremy kissed her.
Leaves continued to fall all around them. Soon the trees would be bare, the snow would come, then spring, then summer. Then the leaves would turn colors all over again. A never-ending cycle.
Yellow, gold, russet, crimson, burgundy, magenta.
Nothing is forever, her mother had said.
She wanted to call out to her mother, to let her know she had gotten it wrong.
Some things are forever, Mommy.
Robbie kissed the tips of her fingers, then touched the white marble.
Beloved Mother.
“Ready?” Jeremy asked. He took Robbie’s hand as they left the cemetery, the leaves swishing beneath their feet.
He held her hand tightly. She knew he wouldn’t let go.