Thirty and a Half Excuses

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Thirty and a Half Excuses Page 28

by Denise Grover Swank


  I heard her take a deep breath. “Do you remember the day before we opened the shop, how you asked me what people were saying about you?”

  “Yeah, you wouldn’t answer.”

  “They were saying you inherited all of Momma’s money, and I didn’t get a dime. They were saying you were rich, and that you were making me work at the nursery for free.”

  I sank back into the cushions. “I already knew that, Vi. Mason and Neely Kate told me.”

  “They did?”

  “Yeah…so, see? There’s nothing to worry about.”

  “That’s not all there is to the story.”

  “What else is there?” I asked tentatively.

  “Some people confronted me with it, offering their condolences on how horrible you were being.” She hesitated. “I didn’t correct them.”

  I let her words sink in. “You let them think I was treating you horribly?”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Why?” I didn’t know whether to be hurt or angry, so I latched onto both. “Why would you do that to me, Violet?”

  “So people wouldn’t notice what I was doing.” Her voice was so quiet I could barely hear her.

  My heart jolted again. “What were you doing?”

  “I’ve been having an affair with Brody MacIntosh.”

  I’d guessed it, but to hear her confirm it still felt like a punch in the stomach.

  “Say something,” she whispered.

  “How long has it been going on?” Maybe she thought going out with someone while you were separated counted as having an affair.

  “Since April.”

  “Oh, God.”

  “I’m sorry.” She started to cry.

  “You and Brody were both still married then. Mike didn’t leave until July.”

  “I know.”

  I took several deep breaths. “I don’t understand. You just started dating Brody last week.”

  “No, we’ve been seeing each other at least twice a week since May. We just decided to start publicly dating last week.”

  Of all the people in the world I’d thought capable of an affair, Violet was the last in line.

  “Say something.”

  A million questions ran through my head, but I had to pick one. “Do you love him?” That was stupid question. On Sunday, it had been obvious that she did.

  “Yes, I love him.” She paused. “But Mike found out that we’re seeing each other and came over tonight to accuse me of having an affair.” She hiccupped through her tears. “I denied it. I know I should have told him the truth, but he threatened to take the kids. He said he’d sue for full custody.”

  “Can he do that?”

  “It happened to Sue Ellen Lewinski just last month.”

  “Oh, Violet.” What a mess. “What are you going to do?”

  “I told Brody I can’t see him for a while. Not until things die down. I can’t lose my kids, Rose.” She broke down again.

  “I know. Everything will be okay.”

  “I’m sorry I’ve been such a bitch lately.”

  “I know.”

  “Do you want to know the sad part?”

  “What?” I asked.

  “Brody asked me to marry him about an hour before Mike came over.”

  I wanted to cry. How ironic that both Gardner sisters had been proposed to on the same night. How ironic that both proposals were so bittersweet. “I’m sorry. Give it time. It will all work out.”

  “I was just so jealous that you and Joe were able to date out in the open. You’re so happy and it just felt so unfair. I took it out on you. I’m sorry.”

  I had been happy…right up until a week ago. How quickly things changed. “I forgive you, Vi. Now go hug your kids and get a good night’s sleep, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  When I hung up, I stared at the ring on my finger for several minutes. Joe had proposed, and I was wearing the ring, but I hadn’t really given him an answer yet. Was I going to say yes?

  If he had asked me two days ago, I would have in a heartbeat. Now I was hesitating. The question was why.

  I could give a million reasons for why I should marry him and part of me wanted to rush headlong into it, but I’d seen so many people run blindly into marriage, only to pay the price further down the road. I didn’t want to be Violet and Mike, fighting over the custody of our kids.

  Maybe instead of looking at the reasons I should get married, I should look at reasons not to.

  I grabbed a piece of paper and put a magazine behind it as I laid back in the cushions and wrote Why I Shouldn’t Marry Joe:

  1. He snores

  2. He leaves his shaving cream gunk in the sink.

  3. He forgets to close the bread bag.

  4. He mixes up the laundry.

  5. He buys the wrong salad dressing brand.

  I listed twenty-four items, and I examined my list. Was the fact Joe left his socks on the floor a real reason not to marry him? This was a list of petty excuses. If I was going to write this list, I had to be honest with myself and look at the real issues.

  25. Joe’s parents hate me.

  Their hatred was so palpable I didn’t see how we could ever survive as a couple unless Joe disowned his family. And as poisonous as they seemed to be, I would never ask him to do that.

  26. I don’t think I want to be a politician’s wife.

  I couldn’t say that I wouldn’t, but I needed time to think about it. He couldn’t just spring it on me and expect me to give up my entire life.

  27. He wants me to give up my entire life.

  That wasn’t true, or at least I didn’t have any proof of it. But I was smart enough to know that being married to a politician meant going to a ton of social functions, and I didn’t think I was cut out for that.

  28. He hates when I help people who are in trouble.

  That wasn’t entirely truthful either. He hated when I got mixed up in things that got me into trouble, but there was no doubt that if he had his way, I wouldn’t have hired Bruce Wayne to work for me. He truly didn’t understand my need to help people like me, even though, oddly enough, he loved me for it. Did I want to fight him on things like that all the time?

  29. He hates me talking to Mason.

  After tonight, I understood his reasoning. I hated for Joe to have anything to do with Hilary. But Joe and Hilary had known each other since they were kids, and for a lot of those years they’d been sleeping together. Mason and I had only been friends for a couple of months, and we had never been romantic. I sighed. The truth was, if Joe and I got married, Mason and I could no longer be friends, especially since I knew Mason liked me. That wouldn’t be fair to Mason or Joe. But if I loved Joe, why did the thought of giving up Mason hurt so much?

  I wiped a tear off my cheek and wrote the next item.

  30. He’s not over Hilary.

  He swore he was, but a sick feeling of dread burrowed deep in my heart at the very thought of her. It felt like I was just waiting for my world to be jerked out from underneath me. Would I feel that way our entire marriage or would it eventually go away? Did I really want to live like that?

  Exhausted, I set the list on the table and went into my bedroom to undress, wondering if I should put on something sexy to greet Joe with when he came home or something more practical to sleep in since I was so exhausted. I kicked off my shoes, and then stripped the gauzy part of the dress over my head, tossing it on the bed as I tried to make up my mind.

  Muffy whimpered.

  I looked down at her, the hair on my arms feeling prickly. “What is it, girl?”

  A scratchy sound came from outside my window. What was that?

  My head jerked up as my cell phone rang in the kitchen.

  I crept down the hall to get my phone out of my purse, my heart pounding in my chest. Had I locked the side door after bringing Muffy in?

  I was being silly and paranoid.

  The microwave clock read 10:15. Snatching up my phone, I locked the kitchen d
oor as I answered, “Hello.”

  “Rose,” Mason said. “I wanted to check on you.”

  I heard another noise outside my kitchen window. I was sure about it this time. “I think there’s someone creeping around outside my house.”

  “Did you call the police?”

  “I just heard it when you called.”

  “You need to call the police. But stay on this line and call them on your home phone.”

  Something felt really wrong. “Okay.”

  I put my cell phone on the counter. My hands shook so badly I had a hard time pressing the buttons for 911. When they answered, I told them I thought there was a prowler outside my house.

  “We’ll send someone over as soon as we can,” the female dispatcher answered in a bored voice. “But Ernie’s on a drunk and disorderly out by the Wagon Wheel.”

  I hung up, panic rising from the pit of my belly as I picked up my cell phone again. “I don’t think they’re coming, Mason. She said Ernie’s on another call.”

  “I’ll be there as soon as possible.” He sounded anxious.

  My breath came in short bursts. This is what happened to Mason’s sister. The police didn’t believe her, and Joe came over too late. “You won’t get here in time.”

  “Stop that right now!” he shouted. “You’re going to be fine.”

  I nodded, trying to convince myself that Mason was right. “Yeah, it’s probably just my imagination.” But I knew it wasn’t. The paper I’d found that morning, now sitting on the kitchen table, caught my attention and my terror rose. “I forgot to tell you about the note. How could I have forgotten to tell you about the note?”

  “What note?”

  “I found it on my porch this morning under a rock. It said Stay Away in cut magazine letters.”

  Mason’s voice sounded tight. “Rose, are all of your doors locked?”

  “Maybe I should go over to Heidi Joy’s.”

  “No! Stay inside.” He was out of breath. “What’s Muffy doing?”

  “She’s whimpering.”

  “Call 911 again.”

  Tears flooded my eyes. “They won’t come, Mason.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  The whole house went dark, the lights flickering out into blackness. Muffy began to growl. “Mason, my lights just went out. I’m going to Heidi Joy’s.”

  “No. Stay inside. You’re safer inside.”

  I heard a noise in the back of the house. “Mason, if something happens—”

  “Nothing’s going to happen, Rose. I’m not going to let it.”

  I wrapped my free arm across my chest and gasped when I felt the silk against my skin. “Oh, God.” I was wearing the white slip part of my dress, and my feet were bare. But the most telling of all was the ring on my hand.

  “What?”

  “The woman in the vision is me.” My knees started to buckle, and I grabbed the counter.

  “Why do you think that? What are you wearing?” He sounded panicked.

  I grabbed the ring on my finger and tried to pull it off, but the band got stuck beneath my knuckle. “I can’t get it off.”

  “Can’t get what off? What are you wearing?”

  “What I saw in my vision.” I started crying.

  “No, calm down.” His voice softened. “It doesn’t mean it’s going to come true. You said so yourself.”

  I nodded, taking deep gulps of air as I opened my kitchen drawer and pulled out my rolling pin. I wasn’t going down without a fight.

  Muffy growled again, and I moved to the kitchen sink to look out the window. I didn’t see anything lurking outside, but my vision shifted, and I saw a shadow image creeping up behind me in the reflection. I screamed, then turned around swinging, connecting with the intruder’s shoulder and dropping the phone in the process.

  “Rose!” I heard Mason’s panicked voice coming from the phone on the floor.

  But my strike wasn’t strong enough to stop my attacker. I felt an electrical jolt rush through my body followed by intense pain as my muscles cramped.

  And then there was only darkness.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  I woke up face down in the seat of a car, my hands tied in front of me. Every part of my body felt so heavy I could hardly move. A wave of panic raced through me before I took a deep breath and told myself to calm down. Panicking wasn’t going to help me. However, the hood over my head wasn’t helping either.

  Just when I’d calmed down enough to start assessing my situation, the car stopped. Moments later the door next to me opened and rough hands grabbed my arms, pulling me out of the seat. My legs wouldn’t support my weight, so I lost my balance. I fell to the ground, concrete scrapping my knee.

  Two thoughts came to mind: One, I was in Jonah’s driveway. And two, I didn’t remember seeing a scrape on my knee in the vision. If the future was already diverging from what I’d seen, I still had a chance at surviving this.

  Something pointed and metallic poked into my side. “Don’t even think about shouting. I’ll shoot you right where you stand.”

  I had no doubt he would—only he sounded like a she. He or she, I’d watched this person shoot me in the head. My knees buckled, and my head swam at the thought. Now was not the time to pass out.

  A hand jerked me up, but from the angle, I could tell that the kidnapper was surprisingly short, further evidence that she was a woman.

  “You’re a sluttin’ whore. I knew it the moment I saw you. What you’re wearin’ right now is proof of that. Now start walking.”

  Had Miss Mildred gone rogue and kidnapped me?

  Then I realized who had taken me and icy fear crawled up my back. “I’m not interested in Jonah…I mean Reverend Pruitt. We’re friends is all. I have a boyfriend. Did I tell you that? His name is Joe, and he’s a state police officer.”

  The gun jammed into my side again. “Shut up and keep walking.”

  “There’s been a misunderstanding here. If you just let me go, we’ll forget all about it.”

  “You’re just like all the others.” Rhonda said. “They thought they were fooling me since they were so much older than my boy. But they all wanted to steal him away. Just like you do.”

  “I don’t, really I don’t.”

  “I’m not blind. I’ve seen you with him. Hanging around him at the church of all places.” Her voice lowered into a hateful tone. “And don’t think I didn’t see you with him in the sanctuary.” Something hard hit me square in the back, and I cried out in pain as I fell to my knees.

  “Get up, whore.” She jerked me upright again. “Jesus carried his cross on his back for miles after he’d been beaten. If I had time, I’d make you suffer his miseries as penance.”

  I fought the hysteria bubbling up in my chest. “Maybe we could pray for my soul. Would you pray with me, Miss Rhonda?”

  She leaned around me, and a door opened as she leaned down into my ear. “I’ll pray with you all right. I’ll be praying over your dead body. Now keep quiet, or I’ll shoot you right here. And that’s not an empty promise.”

  Was it better to get shot now or let her tie me to a chair, knowing without a doubt what would happen? Running seemed like a better option. I started to bolt, but something hard came down on the middle of my back again, and I cried out.

  “Keep your mouth shut.”

  She dragged me through the doorway and gave me a shove. I stumbled into a table, which made a screeching noise as it scraped across the floor. That was good. It hadn’t been in my vision either.

  The hood was jerked off my head, and I blinked as I took in my surroundings as quickly as possible. We were in a dark kitchen just like in my vision, and the moonlight was streaming in through the window. Rhonda held the gun out toward me, the hood of a sweatshirt over her head.

  “Sit in the chair,” she hissed, waving me toward the table.

  The last thing I wanted was to sit in one of those chairs. “I think I’ll just stand.”

  Before I realized what was
happening, Rhonda pulled a stun gun from her jacket pocket with her left hand and aimed it at me.

  I cried out as the pain flooded my body, but I fought the darkness at the edges of my vision. I needed to keep conscious.

  Rhonda pulled the barbs out of my skin and dragged me over to one of the chairs, not an easy task given the fact that all of the muscles in my body refused to work. My head hung forward as she wrapped a rope around my chest, securing me to the chair. “If you’d just done this the easy way…”

  “Mother?” Jonah asked from the doorway.

  Mother? Rhonda was Jonah’s mother? I tried to lift my head, but my body refused to cooperate.

  “Mother, what are you doing? Who is that?”

  None of this happened in my vision. I nearly cried with happiness.

  “That slut who keeps sniffing around you at the church. I saw through her just like I saw through all those other women.”

  “Rose?” Jonah’s voice broke. “What other women?”

  “Those church women who tried to lure you away from your mission.”

  “Oh, Mother.” Jonah sounded devastated.

  “Jesus was celibate. He devoted his entire life to his ministry. I know you can’t be a real priest now, Jonas, but you can still act like one.”

  “Momma, give me the gun.”

  The energy started to flow back into my muscles, and I could lift my head enough to see Jonah extending his hand to Rhonda.

  “That’s a good idea,” she said. “You can kill her. You can prove your loyalty to your calling.”

  I could see Jonah’s hand reaching for the gun.

  Rhonda backed up. “No.” She sounded disappointed. “You’re not strong enough to do it. All these women have made you weak. It’s up to me to save you.”

  “I swear to you that Rose hasn’t done anything. I asked her to help me. If anyone should be shot, it’s me.” Jonah dropped to his knees, pleading with his mother. “God the Father sacrificed his only son for the salvation of the world. You can do the same.” He reached for her but she stayed just out of reach. “You can sacrifice your son for the souls of the damned. The whores and the drug addicts and the thieves.”

  She hesitated, finally, shaking her head. “No. They don’t deserve such a sacrifice.”

 

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