Sex, Lies & Sweet Tea

by Kris Calvert

  “Are you okay to keep going?”

  “Yes. Please,” I choked out, pulling myself together. “We’re almost there.”

  I guided the cab driver to the house, leaving my window down so the fresh air could blow in my face.

  After paying and thanking him, I apologized once more and walked the steps to the front door. I had my keys and my wallet, everything else I had left behind at Autumn Valley, along with my heart. I opened the door and went straight to the telephone to call King. I needed to check on Mimi. I’d gone in to work early this morning and she was stable but still asleep.

  “Dr. Giles.”

  “King, it’s Samantha. How’s Mimi?”

  “She’s fine. Same. Vitals are all good. We’re gonna run some tests today to confirm the TIA diagnosis, but she’s awake and making sarcastic comments about the nurses.”

  “Thank you.”

  “How are you, Sam? Is there anything I can do for you?” he asked with sincerity.

  “No. But thank you for asking. I appreciate it.”

  “Look, Samantha. I’m not FBI. And I’m no James Bond. I’m just a regular doctor in a small town. What you see is what you get. But I do care about you, and I want you to know I’m here if you need anything.”

  “What you see is what you get, huh?” I asked.

  “Yeah, well, for better or worse.”

  “What a refreshing change,” I sniffed.

  “I’m just a phone call away, Sam. And don’t worry about your grandmother. I’ll call you with regular updates.”

  “Thank you, King. Bye.”

  I hung up the phone and then hung my head and began to cry. What you see is what you get. The words kept swimming through my head, making me angrier by the second. I yanked the phone cord from the wall and screamed as loud as I could as I tossed the whole thing across the room.

  I climbed the stairs to my bedroom, sobbing with each step. The pounding in my head was unbearable. I popped two Advil in my mouth and took a drink of water from the bottle on my bedside table. Walking to the bathroom, I turned on the shower and picked up my toothbrush to detox my mouth. I began peeling off my clothes, anxious to wash everything away.

  I tried to wash my hair, but my arms were so very tired, and when it seemed as if I couldn’t manage even the simplest task, I began again to sob uncontrollably. I sank to the floor of the shower and laid my head on the cool marble floor.

  “Why God? Why? Why are you doing this to me? Haven’t you tortured me enough? One dead husband, and as soon as I start to feel something again, you have to take that away too? And Miller? Did he really have to die today? Do I need to start hiding from you? Will that keep me from your wrath?”

  The more I talked, the harder I cried. My body was a limp and tired heap and I could feel the water temperature beginning to change. The coolness slowly forced me back onto my feet.

  As I turned the knob off, I could hear her. “Sam?” Polly shouted. “Sam, are you up here?”

  “Yes.” My voice cracked at the thought of seeing another human being.

  “Shit, Sam,” Polly said. “Thank God you’re okay.” She grabbed a towel and wrapped me up tightly, holding me in her arms as the tears began to fall again. “I was at my yoga class when someone came in and said there’d been an FBI raid and shooting at Autumn Valley.”

  “It was Mac,” I cried.

  “Mac was shot?”

  “No,” I sobbed. “Mac was the FBI agent in charge of the raid.”

  “Is that why he’s been in Shadeland?” Polly asked, putting it all together.

  I nodded, tears streaming down my puffy face. “He used me to get to James Miller and Stacy Little.”

  “What?”

  “I know. Right?” I hiccupped through my tears.

  “What did they do that brought the wrath of the FBI down on them?”

  “Embezzlement. At least that’s what Mac said. I was so confused and he wouldn’t tell me anything. He just kept saying to get out of the way, and to come home and he’d explain later.”

  “Maybe he was trying to protect you.”

  “No.” I shook my head violently. “No. He went through all the papers I’d pulled. He used my work as evidence against them. They were packing it all up as I left. They took everything, including my computer.”

  “I’m so sorry, Sam.” Polly hugged me tightly. “Who was shot?”

  I pulled away from her and began to sob into my shaking hands. “James Miller shot himself before they could arrest him.”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

  “I was there, I heard the shot. Now he’s dead, Stacy Little is going to jail, and I was played by an FBI agent who didn’t love me, but only wanted my files… and my pants.”

  “Sam, you don’t know that’s all he was doing.”

  “Don’t I?” I asked, starting to feel angry again. “He’s only here from D.C. to see his momma? And he just happens to meet me? And I just happen to work in the administration office with two of the people he’s investigating? It sounds pretty set up to me.”

  “I’ll admit, I think you were used,” Polly agreed, looking at me as my waterworks unleashed again. “But maybe he didn’t think you were involved. Maybe you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or the right place at the right time.”

  “How can you say that? The more I think about it—the Chinese food in the office? He just wanted to snoop around.”

  Polly remained silent, letting me think it all through out loud. “I’m such a fool. I said I would never give my heart away again, and the moment I did, look what happened.”

  “I’m sorry Sam. I really am. I’m just glad you are okay. What can I do for you?”

  “I just want to crawl in bed for a little while until Dax gets home. I need to pull it together for him.”

  “C’mon,” Polly said, lifting me up. “Let’s get you in some comfortable clothes.”

  She escorted me into my closet where Mac’s Cornell sweatshirt lay in the floor from the previous night. I immediately burst into tears again.

  Polly shoved it in the corner. “Let me get rid of that. Here,” she said, handing me an old Princeton sweatshirt and some black yoga pants. “Put these on, okay?”

  Polly closed the shutters and put the covers over me before leaving the room.

  “Sam,” she whispered.

  “Yes?”

  “It’s never as bad as it seems. Have faith. It’ll all work out.”

  “I think I blew any faith I had yelling at God in the shower today. I told him to leave me alone. And I think he probably has.”

  “I doubt that. Anyway, rock bottom is good solid ground, and a dead end street is just a place to turn around,” said Polly.

  “What poet wrote that?”

  “Wynonna Judd. And that bitch has had some tough times. Now, get some rest.”

  I couldn’t help but smile a little through my tears.

  *

  I could hear a knock at the front door. I opened my eyes.

  Yours is the light by which my spirit’s born: you are my sun, my moon, and all my stars. – M.

  It was the note Mac slipped in my pocket after our night at the beach. I’d left it on my nightstand as a constant reminder of how much I loved him. I immediately began to cry. I heard the knock again and the front door opened. Through the window I could see it was getting late. The sun was beginning to set and I realized how long I must’ve been asleep. I looked down from my window and saw the black Range Rover that could only belong to Mac. I didn’t want to see him. Or did I? Didn’t he owe me some kind of explanation? I cracked my bedroom door.

  “How is she?” I heard him quietly ask Polly.

  “She’s pretty shaken up, as you might imagine, Mac.”

  “May I speak with her?”

  “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. I mean, what can you say to her that she doesn’t already know?”

  That’s right Polly. Make him explain himself.

  “I’ve
got plenty to say. May I please have a word with her?”

  “Let me see if she’s awake. I made her lie down.”

  I shut the bedroom door, not wanting Polly to know I was eavesdropping and walked into the bathroom to splash some cool water on my face.

  With a knock on the door, Polly let herself in. “Guess who’s here to see you?”

  “I know. I saw his car. What should I do?”

  “You have to do whatever you think is right. Do you want to speak with him?”

  “I’m so emotional, I don’t know if I could put together a coherent sentence.”

  “Do you wanna try? If you don’t, I’m more than happy to tell butt-munch downstairs to fuck off.”

  I paused for a moment, wanting to make the decision with my head and not my heart. But I knew at the moment I was all heart. I turned to Polly, still standing in the doorway. “I’ll be down in a minute. I want to do something with my face.”

  “I’ll let him know you are coming,” Polly said, closing the door behind her.

  I walked into the bathroom and ran a hairbrush through my hair. It was still damp from my shower. I brushed my teeth once more, still thinking about the horrific cab ride home, and pinched my cheeks to give them a little extra color before I went downstairs.

  No matter what he says, there is no excuse for not telling me what he was really doing in Shadeland. There’s no excuse for him using my position at Autumn Valley to further his investigation. No excuses.

  As I made my way down the stairs, I could hear laughter coming from the front sitting room where Dax kept his toys. I lingered in the stairwell, straining to hear what was going on.

  “How was your day, Chief?” Mac asked.

  I moved down the stairs farther so I could see their faces. Mac was sitting on the large antique couch, legs crossed with his arm stretched across the back. He was out of his suit and back into his jeans and a soft linen shirt.

  “Not good,” Dax said. “How was yours?”

  “Not so good. What happened to you? Bad day at school?”

  “Fat Ass—a boy in my class,” Dax explained, taking big breaths between thoughts. “He says his dinosaur is bigger and better than the one we have at school, and I asked him if it was a plant eater or a meat eater and he didn’t know. And all I said was if you don’t know, then how can you know he’s bigger and better than the one in the class.”

  Mac smiled and nodded. “That is a little annoying, isn’t it?”

  “It’s a lot.” Dax paused, climbing onto the couch, crossing his legs, mimicking Mac. I could see the smile on Mac’s face.

  “And you’re sure that’s his name?”

  “Yeah, Fat Ass. Everyone calls him that. Even his mommy.”

  “Wow, preschool has gotten a lot rougher since I was there. What did you say to him?”

  “I told him he can’t have bof,” Dax said, emphasizing his th’s for Mac. “Cause, cause, cause, it’s ee-ver a plant eater or a meat eater, and some of those are bigger. They’re bigger. Just bigger.”

  Mac nodded and smiled at Dax’s enthusiasm. “What is the biggest meat eater?

  “T-Rex,” Dax said without hesitation.

  “That’s pretty cool.”

  “Yeah.” Dax sighed. “Are you waiting on Mommy?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “We have to be nice to her cause she had a bad day. Polly said so.”

  “It seems as if everyone is having a hard time today, huh?”

  “Are you gonna cheer Mommy up? Cause I drew her a picture. Wanna see it?”

  “Sure.”

  “Wait here.”

  As Dax went running through the house, I lowered myself into the stairwell again. “Polly, where’s my picture for Mommy?”

  “It’s right here,” Polly said, handing it to him.

  “Dax was just telling me about a boy in his class,” Mac said, catching Polly’s attention.

  “Fat Ass.” Dax jumped back on the couch with him.

  “His name is Thaddeus, Dax.” Polly smiled, obviously having been through this with him before.

  “That’s what I said, Fat Ass.”

  “My advice, Dax,” Mac said, “is to not worry about Thaddeus or his bigger, better dinosaur. Real men don’t need to tell people how great they are. You show people how great you are in your actions.”

  “Okay.” Dax quickly dismissed Mac’s advice. “Wanna see my picture I drew for Mommy to cheer her up?”

  Dax laid a crayon drawing in Mac’s lap. “That’s you, that’s Mommy and that’s me.”

  “What’re we doing? Is this Lone Oak?”

  “What’s that?” asked Dax.

  “My house. Where you came the other day.”

  “Yes. We are at wone oak,” Dax agreed. “You are swimming wif me and Mommy is getting sun, but not too much sun. See, she has her hat on.”

  “This is very nice.”

  “Fanks,” Dax replied, moving under Mac’s arm for a snuggle. Mac responded by pulling him closer and giving him a kiss on the head.

  “Can you stay?” Dax asked, looking into his face.

  “I’d like that very much.”

  I couldn’t take it anymore. I pinched my cheeks again, trying to give myself some color and began to make my way down the stairs.

  27

  MAC

  “What’s going on down here?” Samantha asked, descending the staircase. I’d debated all the way here if I should come, and now seeing her I was glad I found the balls to do it.

  “How are you?” I asked as I rose to meet her.

  “I’ve been better. How about you?”

  I shook my head and looked at my feet. “This isn’t about me.”

  “Dax honey, will you give me a couple of minutes alone with Mr. Callahan?”

  Shit, we’re back to formalities. Please God, let her understand.

  Dax skipped out of the room, but quickly returned to hug my leg.

  “You’d better mind your momma,” I said, patting him on the head. Dax happily bounded into the other room with Polly.

  “What do you want, Mac?” Sam asked, taking a seat on the couch across the room.

  “I just want a chance to explain.”

  “Explain what? How you used me to execute your FBI raid?”

  “It’s not like that, Sam.”

  “Then tell me what it’s like, Mac.”

  “I didn’t know when I met you that you worked with Stacy Little or James Miller.”

  “But when you discovered it, you didn’t bother to tell me you were investigating the office I worked in,” she argued.

  “You’re right. I didn’t.”

  “And you didn’t bother to tell me you were trying to get closer to the Physicians Development Corporation or even the stupid Ansible Star Company. Why didn’t you tell me then, when we were surrounded by all the evidence you needed to nail Miller and Little?”

  “Because I couldn’t.”

  “Couldn’t? Or wouldn’t? Or was the fact that my were panties on the floor a contributing factor?” she spat, keeping her voice low, tears filling her eyes.

  “By that time, Sam, I had a lot of information on Little and Miller. I couldn’t tell you what was going on. You’re not trained—”

  “Trained to what? Lie?” she asked angrily, the tears freely flowing down her face.

  “You saw how violent it became in there. Miller told me himself he kept a gun in the office. I wasn’t taking any chances where you were concerned. The less you knew the better.”

  “Deny it. Deny you used me and the information I had to close your case.”

  She knew the answer to her own question.

  “I—”

  “Deny it, Mac,” she sobbed, getting angrier as each moment passed.

  “I can’t deny that.”

  “You used me. I might as well have been your hooker. I take that back, at least a hooker gets paid. You exploited me.”

  “I did it to protect you,” I shot back raising my voice.
I was still buzzed with adrenaline from the takedown earlier, and Sam’s accusations were more than I could deal with.

  “Oh, really? I felt totally protected today while FBI agents combed through my files, took my computer and personal property. I felt incredibly protected today while my boss blew his brains out two doors down from me.” Her voice grew louder and more erratic the longer she spoke.

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Then what did you mean?” she asked, standing up with clenched fists.

  I stormed over to her and held her squarely by the shoulders, forcing her to look me in the eye. “I didn’t want you to know anything. I didn’t want to give them any reason to think you were involved. You’re covered in evidence, Sam. You have every record ever needed for the two corporations sitting in your office, scans on your computer, emails and phone calls. For Christ’s sake, the tips we received came from your computer. My name was your password. Even I’ll have to explain myself. When the FBI deposes you—and we will—you know nothing. It’s called plausible deniability.”

  “Are you saying you saved me from myself?” she asked, clearly not buying it.

  “You’re fucking covered in evidence!” I shouted and turned my back on her, unable to hold my tongue. “I came back to Shadeland to do a job—to do my job. I didn’t plan on you, Sam, but I damn sure wasn’t going to let you become entangled in this mess. So to answer your question, hell yes I saved you from yourself. You’ve been under my damn protection the entire time.”

  “And how are you telling them you gathered your evidence since most of that was done while our clothes were off and the invoices and contracts were flying around the room?” she asked, quieting her tone.

  “I flashed my badge and you gave up the evidence,” I said, taking a calming breath.

  “Oh, I gave it up alright. And now I’m a snitch and a man is dead because of me.”

  “No one thinks that.”

  “Really? And how do you know? Some FBI Jedi mindreading trick you’ll perform on everyone at Autumn Valley? Everyone in this tiny little town?”

  “Sam, be reasonable.”

  “I am being reasonable, Mac. You lied to me, you used me, you told me you loved me and you played not only with my emotions,” she said, dropping her voice and backing away from me. “But those of a three year old boy.”