by T. K. Chapin
“Are you okay?” I asked, cupping her face in my hands.
She sniffed and shook her head, digging her face into my shoulder. Comforting her as my leg throbbed in pain, I could only think about what Gail was going to do next.
After I told Janice what had happened after Cindy went to bed that evening, she just sat there at the kitchen table, rolling the salt shaker between her hands. She was just as worried as I was.
“She’s not going to . . . ya know . . . do anything, right?” Janice asked, setting the salt shaker down on the table.
“No. It’s been hours. I think we’re okay. At least for now.” Looking over at the freezer, I felt the call of the whiskey.
I wanted it.
I needed it.
It was calling out to me. Make this poor excuse for a day fade away.
Janice broke my thoughts. “Paul and I talked. I decided to break up with him. Don’t want nor need the games in my life. I’m a fully grown woman.”
“The whole thing still seems bizarre to me. He won’t answer my calls. What’d he say when you asked him about the girl?”
She shrugged. “Not much. He kept trying to say it was complicated. That he had a lot going on right now and he wasn’t sure if we could be together. I told him the moment you decided to kiss that other girl, you decided not to be with me.”
My eyebrows shot up, but I kept quiet. Where’s that value you were talking about wanting, Paul? I shook my head.
“He just said he understood why I was upset. Clay, I swear, he wasn’t even there in the conversation. You know what I mean?”
I nodded. “That’s so weird.”
“Yeah. The strangest part is . . . I want to know why. I genuinely worry about him and care for some stupid reason.” She looked at me. “And by the way, I’m fine with you guys being friends or whatever. That’s your journey, and I know you don’t have many.”
“Thanks.”
Glancing over at the clock on the stove, she said, “Well, I’m going to bed.” Janice stood up and headed through the kitchen. She stopped over at the freezer and said, “I dumped it all out this morning, by the way.”
My eyes shifted to the back door as I thought about the cases I had stashed in the shed.
“Even your supply in the shed.”
My lips pressed tightly together to form a thin line. It wasn’t her place as my sister to do that. Janice lingered a moment longer, like she was waiting for me to say something.
“Great,” I said curtly. “That’s awesome, Sister. Thank you! You know what’s best for me so much more than I do.” Dipping my chin to my chest, my jaw clenched as I thought about all the whiskey being gone.
She glared at me. “Your daughter is now living with us, Clay. I really should have dumped it all out a long time ago. You know I’m a recovered alcoholic, but I felt bad for your pain and everything that has happened to you. Now you have to be sober. You have a daughter to take care of.” She turned and headed out of the kitchen and down the hallway to her bedroom.
Once I heard her bedroom door shut, I stepped out onto the back porch and called Paul again. Come on! Answer your phone.
“Hello?”
“Paul. It’s me, Clay.”
“Hey.”
“What on earth happened, man?”
He was silent for a moment. “Want to go fishing? I’ll tell you about it.”
“How about you just tell me right now?”
Silence came from his end.
“Fine. We’ll go fishing.” Thinking about how Cindy was living with me now, I added, “My daughter lives with me now, so is it okay if she goes too?”
“That’s fine. We’ll take the boat out.”
“You have a boat?”
“Yeah, man. Just a little paddle boat, but it works. Let’s plan on next week. Thursday work for you?”
Sighing, I shook my head. “Why can’t you tell me right now?”
“I don’t want to.”
My jaw clenched. “Next week sounds good.” Hanging up the call with Paul, I got up from the kitchen table and strolled down the hallway to the spare room where Cindy was sleeping. Looking at her through the partially open door, the hallway light lit up half her face. A resting princess who was finally safe with her dad. I smiled and felt the desire for whiskey subside.
CHAPTER 15
The following week, as I got ready for my weekly trip down to the church, I heard coughing coming from the spare bedroom where Cindy was asleep. Pouring a cup of water from the faucet in the kitchen sink for her, I took the glass down the hallway to her room. When she emerged from underneath the covers, a snot bubble accompanied her drooping eyes. Sniffling as she pushed herself up from the bed to sit, she forced a smile as I made eye contact with her.
“Hi, Daddy,” she said, taking the cup from my hand.
I bent over and kissed her forehead. She didn’t feel warm. Smoothing her hair out of her face, I said, “My poor, boogery princess.”
She handed the cup back to me and rolled over without a response. Pulling the covers back over her head, she had a nasally, rhythmic sound coming from her nose. She was in no condition for the swimming trip down to the lake we had planned.
Leaving the room, I made sure Janice was good to watch Cindy and grabbed my coat and headed out the door to the church. Thinking about Cindy on my way, I worried about her mother’s re-entrance into our life. Having Cindy be a part of my life again was amazing, but I knew it was only a matter of time before Gail would be back to whisk her away from me. My lawyer told me on Monday there wasn’t much I could do by way of keeping Gail in town or Cindy with me if she came back, which kept my hope only a flickering flame.
Once in the church parking lot, I saw John standing up near the front doors of the church. He looked as if he was waiting for me. He had a grin from ear to ear on his face. After parking my truck next to his blue suburban—the only other vehicle in the lot— I got out and speedily crossed the parking lot.
“What’s going on?”
“Come in,” he said, opening the door and holding his hand out.
Raising an eyebrow, I stepped inside and jerked my head back at him to try to get a read on his face. But he wasn’t giving anything away with that ugly mug of his. As we walked down the hallway toward his office, my mind raced. “What has you all chipper?”
“Patience, Clay,” he said, hurrying up to get in front of me as we approached his door. He opened the door and let me go in first. “Look at the newspaper!” he said in a firm and direct tone as he shot a finger across my torso, pointing to the desk.
As I approached the desk, my eyes fell on the newspaper. My insides became like ice as I froze in place, yet my head was like a furnace when I saw the face.
It was Lance.
He had been captured.
They caught him up in the back mountains of Idaho and brought him back to Spokane County on murder charges. They caught him?
The door behind me latched shut, and John patted my shoulder. His eyebrows rose as he looped around his desk in almost a dance. “They caught him, Clay! They caught him!”
Shock didn’t begin to describe how I felt in that moment. It was a smidge of joy, but mostly disbelief. Rubbing the stubble on my cheek as I sat down in the chair directly in front of the desk, I shook my head. My arms fell to the sides of the arm rests and my jaw hung open as I looked at Lance’s mugshot. Missy’s murderer was caught?
“Nothin’ to say?” the pastor said with his hands clasped together in front of him on the desk as he leaned in, still grinning and his tone elevated.
Flashing back to the trailer park and Lance standing over me as he held the knife in his hands, I recalled the absolute evil I saw in his eyes as he bent down to look at me. He held the knife to my throat and pressed it against my skin as he spoke. I could still feel the sharp steel prick the skin of my neck, and a droplet of blood ran down my neck. “I’d kill you, but that’d be too easy,” Lance said, peering over his shoulder toward Missy. “
I’ll make you suffer by killing her in front of you.”
Shaking myself out of the flashback before it went any further, I saw Lance’s face on the newspaper again. Clenching my jaw, I turned away from John and all the giddiness he was trying to project in my direction. My heart ached for Missy. For those kids in the bus that morning. As the painful memory stirred the storm within me, I thought of the one thing that could make it go away—a drink. I needed it. I craved it. It had been almost a week since Janice dumped it all out, and I thought I had been doing okay on my own. Cindy had kept me busy and my mind off it, but this . . . this was too much.
“He’ll get life for what he did, Clay. You know that.” John stood up and walked over to his bookcase. Pulling a book out, he came back over and sat back down. Sliding it across the desk, it stopped before toppling over the edge right in front of me. Looking up, I saw it was a Bible.
I laughed. “What are you doing? Of all those books on your shelf, that’s what you grab? What about purpose? Grief? Loss? Death? Something . . . that deals with it.”
He shook his head and looked at the Bible. “God’s Word is all you need, Clay.”
“I have a Bible at home.”
“When was the last time you cracked it open?” He relaxed into his chair as he brought his hands together on his stomach.
“You don’t get it, man. God can’t fix this. I’ve tried to pray it away more than you can understand. Wait . . . This isn’t supposed to be a counseling session. We’ve just been hanging out during these visits.”
He shrugged. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like it was counseling. I just know you’ve been through some difficult times.” He pointed to the newspaper. “This, Clay, is the justice you’ve been wanting, and yet you can’t find satisfaction.”
My eyes skipped over the newspaper to the Bible. “Difficult doesn’t begin to describe this pain within me. But you know what, John? God wasn’t there to carry me when I needed him most. I had to figure it out on my own. Carve my own way through the muck. He forgot about me.” Reaching over to the Bible, I shoved it back across the desk. It fell off and into his lap. “I guess, John, my life and happiness doesn’t fit into God’s Will. That’s what I learned by what happened to Missy in that trailer park.”
John kept his quiet as he stared at me with a blank expression on his face. It only took a second for the quietness to become uncomfortable silence, and only a moment longer for it to become awkward.
“Stop staring at me,” I said, breaking the silence.
Picking the Bible up out of his lap, he set it off to the side of his desk and asked, “How are things going with Katie?”
“They’re okay. She’s out of town at the moment.”
He leaned across the desk, “Katie helping you out with the pain, though? I noticed no cane today when you came in.”
I nodded. “The exercises so far have helped a lot. It’s all the sciatica nerve being pinched, I guess.”
“That’s good. Suzzie had that problem a while back after our youngest was born. Your progress should make you happy.”
Standing up, I said, “I’m thrilled.” My chest felt like it was becoming compressed as my need for a drink grew. “I’m going to get going.”
“We’re scheduled for a half hour more.”
“I know, I just need to run an errand. I’ll see you around, John.”
After stopping by PJ’s Liquor Store for a case of whiskey, I headed back to my sister’s house. I used the last of my savings to purchase the case. It felt wrong—really wrong—but I didn’t see any other solution. On the drive back to Janice’s, images of the trailer park flashed through my mind. The blood, the screams, it all pushed and pushed, not relenting for even a moment’s time.
After parking in the driveway, I grabbed a bottle from under the tarp and out of the case. I undid the cap and drank. As I tipped the bottle up, I looked at the ceiling of the cab and felt the burning yet relieving whiskey travel down into my stomach. As I stopped, I tilted my head back down and saw Cindy standing in front of the truck.
Someone could have shot me in the chest at point blank range and it would have been invited over my daughter seeing me do that. She knew what alcohol was after Gail decided to inform her in the midst of one of my drunken episodes back when we all lived together as a family. I had promised her that I’d never put drinking before her after I broke her doll house in a drunken rage. I promised again after I crashed my motorcycle, and it looked like I’d never stop letting her down.
As Cindy stood there in the gravel with tears welling in her eyes, a snotty nose, and pink ribbons holding up her pigtails, I realized that I was a fraud of a father. Watching her run back toward the house and up the steps to go inside, my heart twisted in anguish. How could I be so stupid? Clutching the bottle in my hand as I rubbed the corner of it with my thumb, I looked up and shook my head. “Where are you, God?”
Janice exploded out the screen door and down the steps moments later. Twisting the cap on and quickly shoving the bottle into the glove box as she approached, I adjusted in my seat and rolled down the window. I was ready for an earful.
“Katie’s going to be late. She said she’ll be by this evening though. She got in late last night.” Janice smiled and then went past the truck. Sticking my head out the window, I looked back at her and came to the conclusion that Cindy hadn’t said a word. Peering back at the house, I saw Cindy in the window staring at me. The look of disappointment in my daughter’s eyes cut through me like a sharpened blade. I felt horrible.
Getting out of the truck, I went inside and shut the door. Cindy sat down on the couch and looked over at me as I came around to her. “I’m sorry. I just have a lot of pain I’m trying to deal with.”
She didn’t say anything, just kept quiet and nodded. Sniffing a little, she said in a soft tone, “When can we go swimming?”
Guilt over what I had done compelled me to be okay with a trip even though she was sick. “Here in a bit. After lunch. Okay?”
Her smile that I had become accustomed to over the last week returned. She let out a hoarse cough and then jumped off the couch and hugged me. “Thank you, Daddy! I can’t wait to go!”
CHAPTER 16
The sun beat down on my shoulders, warming my skin as I stepped into the shallow cold water on the shoreline. Squinting, I could see Cindy dog paddle a few yards out from where I stood. She might have been sick, but she was loving the water.
“Come on, Daddy! The water is fine!”
Sweat beaded on my forehead as the sun took its toll on my back. Taking another step out into the water, I dove in.
Exploding up out of the water, I let out a relieving, “Wow!” as I smoothed my hair back and wiped the excess water from my face. Cindy began laughing as she swam over to me.
“You’re funny.” She wrapped her arms around my neck and held on close to me. The warmth of her love rippled through me as the coolness of the water circled us. “I need a break. Hope it’s okay I latched on!” she said, letting out a giggle as she tossed her head back.
“That’s fine, dear.”
Her head turned toward the floating dock that was at least eighty yards farther out in the water. “Could you swim all the way there, Daddy?”
“With ease.” I unwrapped her arms gently from my neck and began swimming toward the dock. One arm came up, down, and cut through the water. The other arm followed suit. Gliding like a fish swimming downstream, I confidently reached the dock. Climbing up and out of the water, I rose to my feet and raised my arms up in a cheer. Scanning the waters and then the shoreline, my eyes searched for Cindy.
Spotting her lime green and pink bathing suit along the sandy beach, I cupped my eyes for a better look. I saw her speaking with a woman, but I wasn’t sure who. I was too far away to see either of them clearly. Watching as they interacted, I became frantic as they began traveling up the beach and away from the swimming area.
Diving into the water, I began swimming as fast as I could back
toward the beach. My heart raced as my mind began jumping from scenario to scenario. Who was that? Why would they take her away from the beach? A sharp bolt of pain clutched my leg as I was halfway back to the shore. Not now! Clenching my jaw, I pushed through the pain as it traveled down my leg. I pushed myself until I made it to the shore.
“Cindy!” I called out as I stumbled up the sandy beach. Moms whispered and stared as I kept shouting for her. Even a few children stopped playing and watched as I continued to call out for her. “Cindy!” I shouted again as I traveled up the beach to the grass and over to the swing sets that were a few paces from the bathroom. Maybe the lady helped her to the bathroom? Coming over to the white chipping cement building, I leaned my hand against the wall and shouted into the girl’s bathroom. “Cindy? Are you there, dear?”
There was no response.
My heart began pounding so hard that I could feel it in my ears. Gail’s going to kill me. Scanning the entire park as I cut through the lawns and underneath the pine trees, I couldn’t see my baby anywhere. Fumbling with my keys as I got to my truck, a concerned onlooker crossed the parking lot over to me.
“Sir?” the older man said as he watched my trembling hands try to unlock the door.
Jerking my head, I looked over at him as I opened the truck door.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Have you seen a little girl? Seven years old and wearing a pink and green swimsuit?”
He nodded.
Letting the car door go, I stepped up to him. “Where?”
“She left a few minutes ago with a woman.”
“What? Who? I mean. What did she look like?”
“Curly brown hair. Brown eyes. Thin build.”
“Gail.” Turning, I hurried and got into my truck. My window was already down and I said to the man, “Thank you.”
With the pedal to the floor of my truck, I sped back to my sister’s house. As I drove past the grocery store, I looked over and saw Gail’s car in the parking lot. Slamming on the brakes, my wheels squealed as I pulled into the parking lot abruptly. How could she do this? Cutting across the empty rows, I parked next to Gail’s sedan and got out. Glancing inside, I saw nobody in the car so I hurried my steps up to the store.