Black Beans & Vice

by J. B. Stanley

  James took a bite of his dinner and groaned. “This chili is bliss! No wonder Eliot has converted to vegetarianism so easily. Shoot, I could give up meat if you cooked for me like this.” He spent a moment savoring the taste of black beans, garlic, onions, and fresh cilantro in a tomato base. Then, he scooted back his chair, walked around to Jane’s side of the table, and leaned over to kiss her.

  “I love you,” he whispered into her hair. “For the chili, for being willing to upend your life to be near me, and for the way you make me believe everything will turn out okay.”

  Jane wrapped her arms around his neck and returned his kiss with passionate tenderness. “I love you too. So very much.”

  Later, after they’d cleaned up the kitchen, James took Jane’s hand and led her down the hall to the master bedroom.

  “I can rub your back until you fall asleep,” Jane offered as she pulled back the covers. “You must be exhausted.”

  James flopped on the bed as though he was too weary to move, but at her words, he sat up, grabbed her around the waist and pulled her on top of him. “I’d have to be half-dead to fall right asleep with you here, lying next to me.” He slid his palms over the soft curves of her hips and murmured, “Besides, I want to show you just how grateful I am to have you here. Tonight and for many nights to come.”

  “That sounds like a good deal to me,” Jane replied huskily, stretched out her arm, and switched off the lamp.

  _____

  James went back to work the next day and did his best to concentrate on his usual tasks. He phoned Milla every few hours to ask after his father, but there hadn’t been much of a change since the previous day. Jackson could barely speak and had lost the use of his left arm and leg. The medical staff told Milla that it was too early to tell how permanent those disabilities were, and added that they were unlikely to ever voluntarily discharge him if she continued to bring them such succulent baked goods.

  “His vision is fine, so that’s a blessing,” she told him. “And we’re able to talk in our own way. Your daddy’s never really had a flapping tongue, so I blab away and he grunts and nods. It’s not too different from our regular conversations,” she added lightly.

  Pleased that Milla sounded both rested and hopeful, James asked if she wanted him to check in on Willow.

  “She can handle Quincy’s Whimsies as well as I can,” Milla answered. “In fact, she’d been hinting for weeks that I should take a vacation, so now I’m taking one! I’m planning to read The Jungle Book to your father. He’s never heard the story and it’s been more years than I care to recall since I have, so we’ll take a sort of literary safari. One of the nurses told me reading aloud is good for stroke patients.”

  “A well-written tale is as curative as homemade chicken soup,” James agreed. “I’ll be in after work to see Pop. And Milla, don’t you worry about mowing the lawn or taking the trash to the street. I’ll do all of that this weekend.”

  Milla clucked her tongue. “And I plan to stockpile your freezer, so don’t you fret about your meals.”

  “Just keep on baking for the nurses. I’ve got my own personal chef these days.” James told Milla about Jane and Eliot moving down for the summer. Milla squealed in delight. “It’ll do your daddy a world of good to have Eliot filling the house with energy and chatter. Jackson’ll want to get better just so he can play with him again. Oh, I’ve gotta run. Dr. Scrimpshire’s here to check on our favorite patient.”

  After hanging up, James spent the rest of his lunch hour helping Fern hang a collection of photographs on the walls surrounding the tech corner. Once the last framed print was in place, James stood back and admired the results.

  “These are fantastic, Fern. You’re really talented.” He pointed at a photograph of a carpet of multicolored autumn leaves. “This one’s my favorite.” Turning to look at the four photos mounted on the wall behind him, he added, “But the close-up of the purple rhododendron, I’ve got to have that one for Jane. She’d love to hang that in her office.”

  Fern blushed. “Scott made me a website already. It’s beautiful. He used that photo as the frame for the home page. You were right when you said that he was good with computers.”

  James studied Fern’s bio, which had been fastened with thumbtacks alongside a series of photographs showing the Blue Ridge Mountains during each season. Taken from one of the scenic lookouts on the Blue Ridge Parkway, the photographs captured the beauty of the wilderness. The pine trees in the valley that were draped in capes of snow in the winter scene were just as lovely as the towers of dried brown needles serving as a contrast to the brilliant gold, orange, and crimson leaves of the hardwoods in the fall. Taking advantage of his time alone with the young woman, James said breezily, “I think Scott has a bit of a crush on you.”

  Fern sighed. “I like him too. It’s just, well, I have feelings for another guy, a fellow artist. Until I can sort out exactly what those feelings are, I’m trying really hard to just be a friend and coworker to Scott. Still, the more time I spend with him …”

  The young woman’s expression was anguished. “These things are rarely easy. Take it from me,” James told her. “I’ve made two or three lifetime’s worth of romantic gaffes.”

  The relationship theme had him thinking of how wonderful it had been to wake up to the sound of his alarm that morning and to find Jane lying beside him, her hair fanned out over the pillow and her arm splayed out over the edge of the bed. He’d stared at her lovely face as long as he could and then showered as quietly as possible so as not to wake her. He hadn’t succeeded however, for when he stepped out of the bathroom to get dressed, her side of the bed was vacant. She was waiting for him in the kitchen with breakfast, a steaming cup of coffee, and a warm kiss.

  “It’s hard to imagine your making a serious mistake. You seem like someone who has it all figured out,” Fern remarked shyly.

  James nodded and smiled. “Maybe I finally do. You see, after all this time, I’m still in love with the first girl I ever loved. It’s exhilarating, because she feels the same way, but it can be a little scary too. Once you’ve figured out what’s important in life, you want to do anything in your power to hold onto what you’ve got.” He glanced back at the seasonal photographs of the mountains. “But your work has given me a terrific idea. Go ahead and put me down for that entire series. Those photographs are going to help me secure my future.”

  “All four of them? Thanks!” Fern beamed. “I’ve got to tell Scott I’ve made my first sale from this exhibit!”

  Grabbing her gently by the elbow before she rushed off, James said, “If he’s the one you run to when you’ve got big news, then you really care about him. Just don’t leave him hanging too long, okay? He’s not like one of these prints, Fern. That young man is an original.”

  _____

  At five o’clock, James trotted down the library steps, intending to hop in the Bronco and speed north to the hospital. Lucy was waiting for him by his truck, holding a cardboard box filled with food with one hand and her cell phone in the other. When she saw James, she pocketed the phone.

  “Your fellow supper club members have made enough food to see you through at least six meals. We didn’t know what else to do.” She pushed her sunglasses onto the crown of her head and gazed at him with concern. “How is Jackson?”

  James thanked her and gave an abbreviated version of his father’s condition as he loaded the goodies into his truck.

  “I haven’t had a chance to tell you about my little chat with Murphy,” Lucy rubbed at a grease spot on her uniform shirt and then gave James a crooked smile. “She was pretty cagey when we chatted in The Sweet Tooth. Even Megan Flowers said she’s never seen Murphy grab her croissant and run like she did when I asked her what she’d been up to Sunday evening.”

  Rubbing his temples, James frowned. “If Murphy is the note’s author, what could she expect to gain? She’s smart enough to know that I’d do anything to keep Jane and Eliot safe. This whole thing has only br
ought us closer.”

  Lucy looked thoughtful. “Maybe she wants to create stress between you and Jane. It’s hard for you to protect your family when you live in separate towns, so Murphy might be using the fear and anxiety created by the threatening notes and creepy dead birds as a way to drive a wedge between you.”

  “Lord knows I’m stressed,” James admitted. “But if she thought this crazy behavior would cause a rift between Jane and me, she’s dead wrong. In fact, Jane and Eliot will be living with me this summer.” An angry flare ignited in his brown eyes. “And no one will hurt my family. They’ll have to get past me first!”

  Lucy touched James on the arm. “Sullie and I will continue to do drive-bys until this weirdness is nothing but a distant memory. Let’s just hope that when Murphy sees the three of you around town over the next few weeks, she’ll realize there is nothing she can do to keep you apart.”

  She opened her mouth to say something further, but Francis came bounding down the library steps as though the building were on fire. Spotting James in the parking lot, he raised his hand. “Professor! Wait!”

  James stiffened, bracing himself for bad news. Francis was rarely rattled, but now the young man’s face was drawn and his pupils were tiny black dots of shock. “It’s your wife … I mean, your ex-wife. It’s Jane!” he blurted all in one breath. “She said something about the crazy note writer and that he went after Eliot. She’s really upset and wants to speak to you right away!”

  Francis hadn’t even finished his sentence when James began to run. Lucy was only a second behind. “Where is Eliot?” she shouted.

  “In Harrisonburg,” James answered, taking the stairs two at a time.

  “Then it’s not Murphy,” Lucy said, holding open the lobby door. She raced behind James into his office. “I saw her at Dolly’s Diner during lunch and again a few minutes ago at the Wellness Village.”

  “Whoever it is—if they’ve hurt my son …” James grabbed the receiver and lifted it to his ear. He barely recognized his own voice; it sounded as though a stranger spoke Jane’s name.

  Lucy insisted on driving the Bronco.

  “Your hands are shaking. You’re a danger to yourself and to others,” she pointed out as she urged the old truck to accelerate around a tractor-trailer. “Besides, at a time like this you need a friend, especially one in uniform. Even if said uniform is a little wrinkled and there’s a grease stain on the left boob pocket.” Lucy smiled briefly. “When we get to Harrisonburg, I’ll fill the police in on the note you received. If we all put our heads together, we can figure out who’s messing with your family. Tell me again exactly what happened today.”

  James was aware that Lucy was only trying to keep his mind occupied until they reached Jane’s house, but he recounted the details for the second time. “Eliot was on the playground at school when a man wearing sunglasses tossed him a paper airplane. Eliot ran over to fetch it and by the time he’d looked up again, the man was gone. Nothing about the man was familiar. The plane had been made from one of those paper airplane books sold in a number of stores across the country. A teacher in Eliot’s school had bought a similar book for his son, so he recognized the World War Two bomber pattern, but not the black Sharpie writing on the sides of the plane.”

  Lucy frowned. “What bird did the man try to fashion the plane into?”

  “That’s unclear,” James answered and clenched his fists. “A hawk? A vulture? Who knows? He drew some feathers on the wings and made a sharp beak on the nose of the plane. It’s the writing that makes me so damned angry. How dare this whacko call my son—”

  “He called the plane ‘The Little Bastard.’ Let’s not jump to conclusions.” Lucy said in an attempt to mollify her friend, but her words had the opposite reaction.

  “Come on, Lucy!” James shouted. “He was obviously referring to Eliot. My son was born out of wedlock. Even now, he only has a part-time father. I just wish …” He trailed off, too upset to continue.

  Lucy reached over and grabbed James by the hand. “Forget about how some lowlife defines him! You’re a wonderful father and he’s a happy little boy. He doesn’t know what these words mean. What he knows is that he has two parents who love him more than anything in the world.”

  James nodded and squeezed Lucy’s hand in gratitude. “You’re right. And I need to get a grip before I see Eliot. I don’t want him to be frightened even though I am.” He rubbed his temples and tried to focus on the scenery. “I hope he didn’t get upset when the police questioned him.”

  “Jane may not have allowed them to talk to Eliot directly,” Lucy said. “Cops can be pretty intimidating to little kids.”

  “Not to Eliot,” James replied. “He thinks policemen and firemen are the coolest people ever.”

  “Hey, the kid’s got good taste.” Lucy grinned. “Okay, you’ll have to give me directions from here. I don’t know where Jane lives.”

  Lucy had to park the Bronco in the street as a police car had already claimed the remaining space in Jane’s driveway. James hustled up the front path and burst into the house, relieved to discover Jane and a female officer calmly sharing a cup of coffee in the kitchen. He kissed his ex-wife and then turned back toward the living room. “Where is he?”

  “In his room listening to an audio book,” she answered in a steady voice. James noted the red and blotched skin under her eyes and wished he’d been here to comfort her while she’d cried. “He’s got his headphones on and is perfectly fine. He really doesn’t realize that anything out of the ordinary has happened. I think we should talk to Officer Beatty together before you see Eliot.”

  At that moment, Lucy entered the kitchen. “James was in no shape to drive,” she quickly explained to Jane and then introduced herself to Officer Beatty. “I’m here to offer whatever help I can.”

  Jane gave her a warm smile. “Thank you, Lucy. James told me you’ve been trying to find out who left that note on his birdhouse. I was pretty freaked out by the bird carcass, but now that this guy has targeted our son, I won’t feel safe until he’s been apprehended. Hopefully, he’ll get thrown in a jail cell with a serial killer as his roommate!” She glanced at her fingers. “Even without the serial killer part, I just want this guy to get caught.”

  “May I see the paper airplane?” James directed his question to Officer Beatty.

  The young officer, who looked to be in her mid-twenties and had guileless blue eyes and ash-blond hair secured in a tidy bun, reached under her chair and retrieved the plane. Stored inside a plastic freezer bag, the object seemed innocuous at first glance, but as James pivoted it under the light and examined the crudely drawn feathers and block lettering, a fresh wave of rage rolled over him. “No one at Eliot’s school got a look at this guy?”

  Jane shook her head. “No. The school’s playground borders a fairly busy street. People walk by it all the time.”

  “The only description we have is that he was an adult male wearing sunglasses?” Lucy asked Officer Beatty.

  The pretty policewoman tapped on the open page of her pocket notebook. “Eliot also told his mom that the man wore a purple baseball cap. He said it looked like the purple shirt his mom wears when she works in the yard, so we’re assuming he’s referring to her JMU sweatshirt.”

  James groaned in frustration. “This is a college town! Those hats are for sale all over the place!” He turned to Jane. “Did he notice hair color? Height? What clothes the guy wore?”

  “Eliot’s a little boy, honey,” Jane answered softly. “Not Poirot. He was following a trail of ants close to the fence and this guy in a purple hat and sunglasses tossed him the plane and then disappeared. End of story.”

  “Thank God he can’t read,” James muttered.

  Jane covered his hand with hers. “He’s really okay, James. He thinks Officer Beatty is here because she’s my new friend and we wanted to hang out in the kitchen and talk about girl stuff. Plus, he’s so excited about moving to Quincy’s Gap this summer that I don’t think any
thing can bring him down.”

  “Thank goodness for that.” James sighed.

  The four adults exchanged ideas and theories, but since Murphy was no longer on the suspect list, none of them could come up with a possible replacement for her.

  “Could it be another former romantic partner?” Officer Beatty asked, looking back and forth between James and Jane. Lucy shifted uncomfortably in her seat and then jumped up, offering the other women a coffee refill.

  “Oh, you’re a guest, Lucy. Let me get it,” Jane insisted. She set clean mugs on the table and collected the coffee carafe. “My list of ex-boyfriends isn’t very long and all of those relationships ended amicably. The only exception was Kenneth Cooper. He’s a lawyer living in Williamsburg and is my most recent ex. He’d never do these crazy things though. That man is totally obsessed with his image.”

  Lucy eyed Jane with interest. “Then it must have been quite a blow to his ego when you left him.”

  Jane shrugged. “I doubt that. He was dating a Barbie lookalike behind my back months before we broke up and he certainly wanted no part in raising Eliot. He—” she stopped suddenly and then picked up the bag containing the paper airplane. “Kenneth used that word once, in reference to Eliot. He called him a bastard.” She gave James an apologetic glance. “I threw a vase at his head. It smashed inches away from his face and I’m still sorry I missed. He packed his bags and moved out later that day.”

  “Have you seen Kenneth since then?” Officer Beatty had her notebook out.

  “No.” Jane sank into a chair and wrapped her hands around her mug. “But why would he do this? He didn’t want to be with me and he didn’t want anything to do with Eliot. He was relieved to be free.” She looked at James. “He wasn’t a kind man and he didn’t like kids, so I was glad to see the last of him, especially since it gave me a chance to start over with you.”