“Seven.”
“Oh, my gosh. I didn’t mean to sleep so long.” She swung her legs over the edge of the bed. “I bought stuff to make enchiladas for dinner.”
“That’s okay, Mom. I fixed scrambled eggs. There’s some left if you want.”
What she wanted was to go back to sleep, but she made herself stand up and walk to the kitchen. The eggs were decent and Scott had even made a pot of coffee. “You’re getting downright domestic,” she said.
He smiled and sat with her while she ate. After she wiped the last of the eggs with a piece of toast, he stood to clear the plates. “Can I go to Caitlin’s after I do the dishes?”
“What’s gotten into you? I’m not complaining, mind you. But you haven’t been this nice to me since that Christmas you wanted the mountain bike.”
“Mom! Can I go?
Jenny nodded. “Just remember what I said last night.”
“I know. I know. I won’t say a word.”
A little edge of teenage defiance had crept into his voice and Jenny laughed. “Now, that’s the Scott I know and love so well.”
After Scott left, Jenny took a cup of coffee and tried to settle on the couch to watch TV, but nothing interested her. Restlessness pushed her to her feet and she went to the front window. A light rain dotted the glass like tears.
She turned away, contemplated the idea of doing some heavy-duty cleaning to work off the tension, then decided it would be more productive to go talk to her friend. If she put if off for long she’d chicken out and never tell Carol. And she couldn’t do that. The woman deserved to know what had been going on. And she especially needed to know about George. If only I can find a way to tell her that doesn’t destroy us forever.
~*~
Jenny made her way through the fine drizzle and took refuge on Carol’s front porch. Porch was hardly a fitting word to describe the sweeping veranda that went across the front and down one side of the old house. It harkened back to another era when the porch was an extension of the living area, and Jenny was always a little jealous every time she came over.
Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door, hoping her friend was home – alone. She could’ve called. Probably should have. But they hadn’t exactly been on speaking terms of late, and she couldn’t be sure that Carol wouldn’t just hang up.
Seconds ticked by and became minutes before the front light flicked on, almost blinding Jenny. After a few more long seconds, the door opened and Carol stood there, wearing burgundy warm-ups and a white turtleneck. The picture of suburban domestic bliss.
“It’s freezing out here.” Jenny said.
“You can always go home.”
“Please, Carol. We need to talk.”
“Ah. Now she has time to talk.”
The sarcastic tone almost drove Jenny off the porch. Screw it. She’s acting like a child. But Jenny’s heart had never let her turn away from a hurt child; even if that child lived in the body of a forty-something woman.
She pulled the door wider and brushed past Carol, then headed toward the kitchen. “Since you won’t play hostess, I will. Want some coffee?”
Not waiting for an answer, Jenny shrugged out of her quilted jacket and slung it across the back of a chair. Then she filled the kettle with water and fired up the stove.
“I’ve got cognac.”
Jenny turned to see Carol in the doorway. “Sounds good.”
Carol went to a cabinet and pulled out a bottle. Jenny grabbed a couple of mugs and the jar of instant. Okay, two sentences without rancor. Maybe we can do this without any collateral damage. Except for the part about George. That may be a deal breaker.
Jenny heard the faint rumble of the water starting to boil just a moment before the kettle whistled. She turned off the burner and poured the steaming water over the brown crystals in the mugs. Then she carried the cups to the table. Carol joined her, topping off each mug with a generous shot of amber liquid.
Jenny reached for the sugar bowl, trying to figure a good place to start a conversation. “Did you watch the news last night?”
Carol frowned. “What?”
“Did you watch the news? Local?”
“Yeah. Why?”
Jenny stirred her coffee, the clink of the spoon the only sound in the room for a long moment.
Carol frowned. “Was there something signi—?” She stopped, seemed to consider for a moment, then gave Jenny a searching look. “That ... that drug bust. That’s what you’ve been doing?”
Jenny nodded.
The reality seemed to push Carol back in her chair. She was so still, Jenny wondered if the woman had stopped breathing. She leaned forward and touched her hand. “Carol?”
She took a deep, gasping breath. “How? What—?”
Jenny gave her a more condensed version of what she’d told Scott last night. When she was finished, Carol stared at her with wide, wondering eyes, then shook her head. “Wow. You really did do the Wonder Woman gig.”
Jenny smiled. “Yup. Superhero Jenny.”
The banter felt good. So good that she considered just skipping the part about George. Maybe that situation could work itself out without her interference.
Carol grabbed the decanter of cognac and splashed a bit more in her cup. “I’m still having such a hard time getting my mind around it all.”
“Me, too.” Jenny reached for the bottle to add more to her coffee. “But you do understand you can’t tell anyone.”
“Not even George?”
Oh, God. Definitely not George. “No one. Period. I’m only telling you because I put you through so much hell. And you are one of the few people I know who will actually respect the need for discretion.”
Carol took another swallow of her drink. “You could’ve told me sooner.”
“It wasn’t allowed.”
“I can keep a secret.”
A hint of petulance accompanied that statement and Jenny sighed. “It wasn’t about friendship, or trust. It was about safety.”
Carol pushed her mug in a slow circle on the table. Jenny reached across and stopped the movement. “That was the worst part. Hiding it. Lying to everyone. I hated it.”
After another long moment Carol looked up with a half-smile. “Did you wear the steel bra?”
It took a second for Jenny to make the connection, then she burst out laughing. “Couldn’t find one small enough.”
“I still can’t believe you did that.” Carol picked up her mug. “I mean, I believe you. You don’t lie—”
Carol stopped, and Jenny filled in the blank. ”Only when I have to.”
Relief brushed over her like a warm summer breeze when Carol chuckled again before asking, “Were you scared?”
“Shitless.”
Carol fiddled with her cup again, tilting it one way, then another. Jenny wondered what she was thinking, but hesitated to ask. She didn’t want to invite more recriminations. Then Carol released the cup and stood. “I’m hungry.” She walked to the refrigerator. “Does chocolate fudge ripple go with cognac?”
“Chocolate goes with everything”
Carol dished out two heaping bowls of ice cream and brought them back. “I guess I shouldn’t be mad at you. At least it’s all over now.”
Jenny almost choked. This was the point of no return. Either she tell Carol now about George or let her friend charge blindly into God knows what. “Not exactly,” she said.
“What do you mean, ‘not exactly?’”
“It’s not all over.” Jenny took a breath. “I found out something about George.”
Carol looked up. “What?”
Jenny hedged, studying the little stream of ice-cream that ran down the side of her bowl. “It’s not good.”
“What?” A touch of alarm widened Carol’s eyes. “You don’t mean about this drug mess?”
Again, Jenny hesitated for just a breath, then said. “We made a delivery to his house one night.”
‘No.” Carol stood and pushed away from the tabl
e with such force her bowl slid off the end and crashed in a mess of broken pottery and brown globs of ice-cream.
Jenny jumped up to grab a rag. Carol glared. “Don’t touch my ice-cream.”
Still not sure that telling had been the right thing to do; Jenny watched her friend’s face contort as she seemed to process the facts. “Maybe he was away,” Carol finally said in a soft whisper. “Somebody else was at his house.”
As much as she hated to, Jenny knew she had to dispel that hope. “He stepped into the light. I saw him.”
“No. Don’t say that.” Carol leaned against the wall and shook her head. “It can’t be true.”
Jenny crossed the space between then in two quick strides, but when she reached out to Carol, the woman held her back with a raised palm. They stood for a moment, eyes locked, then Carol closed hers and moaned.
Not sure if physical contact would send her friend skittering away, Jenny risked a touch on her arm. Carol didn’t move. Her breathing had turned into gasping sobs.
Slowly, Jenny slipped an arm around the woman. “Before, when I said the deceit was the worst part? I lied.” She stroked the soft flannel on her friend’s back. “This is the worst part.”
The tears ran in rivers down Carol’s cheeks, pooling momentarily in the hollow of her laugh lines, then spilling over. She turned into Jenny and clung to her. Now it was like sophomore year of college. That time when some jerk had walked out on Carol. Now, as before, Jenny didn’t know what words might ease the hurt.
When the sobs abated, Carol pulled back and swiped at the moisture on her cheeks. “What am I going to do?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you turn him in?”
Jenny shook her head.
“Why not?” Carol dug in a pocket and pulled out a crumpled tissue.
“God knows, I thought about it.” Jenny shrugged. “But I just couldn’t.”
Carol dabbed at her nose. “What about now?”
“Eventually I’ll have to tell. Unless someone rolls on him first.”
After the words were out, Jenny bit back a laugh. Jeeze, no more Law & Order reruns for you. She guided her friend to a chair, then sat down next to her. “But you need a chance to work things out first.”
“You don’t feel some moral imperative to clean him up, too?”
It was part question and part challenge, and Jenny wasn’t sure how to respond. She could laugh, which might diffuse the tension. Or she could throw out some snippy remark that would make Carol good and mad. Would anger help make her strong?
Jenny touched her friend on the arm. “My imperative is over. Yours is just beginning.”
~*~
When Jenny got back home, Scott met her at the back door. “Thought you were staying home now that your secret life is over.”
“And I thought you weren’t going to nag me anymore.”
“You’re right.” He smiled. “Where were you?”
“I had to talk to Carol.” Jenny hung her coat on the peg by the door and entered the kitchen. “You want some hot chocolate? We haven’t really had a chance to talk since the other night.”
“I’d rather have coffee.”
Jenny stopped and considered this son who more closely resembled a man than a boy. “When did you start drinking coffee?”
“It’s not official yet. Still testing it out.”
Thankful that he didn’t take the opportunity to wound her with a reminder that had she been around more the past few months, she might have witnessed the beginning of the testing, Jenny got out the makings for a pot of decaf.
When it was brewed and they’d both laced mugs liberally with milk and sugar, Jenny took a warming swallow and sat down at the table. Scott sat across from her and stirred his coffee in slow, steady swirls. “I didn’t tell you. But Dad called me last week.”
“So you knew he was coming?”
“No. He wanted to know if I still wanted to come out to California.”
Jenny held her breath wondering if she even wanted to know what Scott’s response had been. And wondering why the hell Ralph hadn’t said anything to her. Not even sure what to anticipate, she watched her son take the spoon out of his mug and set it on the table. Then he took a long swallow before meeting her gaze. “I told him no.”
“Oh.” He told him ‘no.’ And that was before he knew the truth. “Pretty big decision you made there.”
“Yeah. But packing’s such a drag.”
A swell of emotion stung her eyes with tears and she had to blink to hold them back.
“Dad said the offer was good any time.”
She caught just the flash of a grin before he covered by taking another drink.
“And how long do you intend to hold me hostage to that threat?”
Scott set his mug down and this time didn’t try to hide the smile. “I figure it’s good at least ‘til graduation.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Sunday morning dawned bright and clear, the rain having been chased away in the night like an unwelcome guest. For a blessed moment, Jenny was able to forget and feel nothing but refreshing peace. Then the memories flooded back.
A picture of the dead man sliding down the wall flashed through her mind and brought a sudden chill. Then she remembered what Linda had told her that awful night. That it would be like this for a while. The burst of memory and the icy hand grabbing her heart. It would never go away, but it would lessen in time.
And like Steve, Linda had told her to fight the waves of guilt. “Otherwise they’ll tear you apart. You did what you had to do. Nobody can fault you. So just keep telling yourself that.”
Jenny played the words through her mind like a mantra. You did what you had to do. There was no alternative.
Maybe she could believe that some day. But not today.
She threw the covers off and padded into her bathroom. She couldn’t face her reflection in the mirror. Proof positive that she was a guilty, guilty person. Then a goofy thought skittered across her mind. Well, goofy for her. She wasn’t a church-going person but the impulse was strong. Maybe she could find forgiveness in a holy place.
Yeah. Right. The building would probably fall down. She brushed her teeth, splashed water on her face and headed into the main part of the house.
In the early morning quiet, the emptiness of the house was profound. There was a note on the kitchen table from Scott. He’d gone for an early morning run.
Jenny microwaved some leftover coffee and considered her options. For the sake of the other people who might want to pray, she probably shouldn’t risk going to church. In her estimation cooking was the next best thing, so she scarfed down a quick bowl of cereal, then pulled out the ingredients to make a pot of hamburger soup.
~*~
Jenny lifted the lid and the pungent aroma of bay leaves rode the steam from the large kettle. She stirred the soup, noting that she’d made enough to feed a homeless shelter for a day. That’s the way it usually turned out. She thought she was just putting a little bit of this and a little bit of that in it, but all those little bits added up. She’d have to clear space in the freezer for some of it. Oh, darn. That means eating the rest of the ice cream for a snack.
For a moment she considered calling Scott in to help her, but when she hefted the carton there didn’t seem to be much weight to it. She grabbed a spoon and had just pulled the lid off when she heard the front door open and Alicia called out, “Mom. Mom.”
Jenny set the ice cream on the counter and stepped into the living room. “No need to shout. I’m right here.”
“It was so cool.” Alicia dropped her duffle bag on the floor. “We rode horses. Both days. And Daddy wasn’t even scared.”
“I just didn’t show it,” Ralph said with the self-deprecating grin that had won her heart so many years ago. “How about you? How was your, uh... weekend?”
“It was fine.”
Ralph’s expression said he wanted to hear more, but Jenny nodded toward Alicia. He got
the message.
“Can you stay?” Jenny asked. “Have dinner before you go to the airport?”
“I should probably just go. You never know how long it will take to go through security.”
“I keep forgetting. I haven’t had the pleasure of airline travel since nine-eleven.” Jenny turned to Alicia. “Scott’s in his room. Go tell him Dad’s here.”
The girl started toward the hall and Ralph called out, “Come back here and pick up your gear.”
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