“I agree,” Sam said. “We can take turns checking in with her on her days off and at night.”
“But we have to promise to tell each other if anything strange happens,” Faith added.
“Sounds like we have a plan,” Sam said. “Do we all agree?”
Faith said, “Yes,” and Jackie mumbled, “I guess. But I still think we need to make arrangements for her retirement.”
Excusing herself, Sam got up from the table and made her way to the ladies’ room. She ran her finger over the seagull carved into the restroom door. Gulls for women, Buoys for men. She remembered her father’s thick Irish brogue when he called the daughters his three gulls. The sisters all knew they controlled his heart. They also knew how much he loved seagulls, his constant companions during the day. They greeted him at the crack of dawn on the dock, flew beside him on his way out of the inlet, then guided him to the fish in the Gulf Stream.
Sam would trade anything to hear her father call her his gull one more time.
Her sandwich was waiting when Sam returned from the restroom. While they ate, Jackie filled Faith and Sam in on Carlotta’s sad and sudden departure from her life.
“Are you looking for someone to take her place?” Faith asked.
“Not right away. At least not a full-time housekeeper like Carlotta. I called Happy Maids this morning. They’re going to take care of my basic cleaning for now.”
“We missed you at the reopening,” Sam said, disappointed that Jackie hadn’t bothered to ask how their customers perceived the renovations.
Jackie reached in her oversized black bag and pulled out the Point Pleasant Weekly, unfolding it and holding it open to reveal the headlines: Sweeney’s New Seafood Market. Too Uptown For Small Town.
Jackie handed Sam the paper. With Faith peering over her shoulder, they read the scorching review. Donna Bennett reiterated everything she’d said on Saturday, including her comment about the unfinished ceiling. “The Prima Donnas at their finest,” Sam said when she was finished reading.
“Sounds like I missed the big showdown. What happened?” Jackie asked.
Sam filled Jackie in on the details of their confrontation.
“It takes guts to accuse the Donnas of smelling like fish,” Jackie said to her youngest sister.
Faith beamed red. “I’m sorry, Jackie. I know they’re your friends.”
Sam gave the paper back to Jackie. “Where’d you get this anyway? I certainly hope you didn’t pay for it.”
“Believe it or not, someone left it on my door stoop this morning.”
Sam rolled her eyes. “I can only imagine who that someone was.”
Jackie crumbled up the newspaper and stuffed it in her bag. “For the record, Sammie, I think you have given the market a fresh face with a vibrant young vibe. I have no doubt Sweeney’s will be a success, especially with the out-of-towners. People around here don’t respond well to change. Just give them a little time.”
While encouraged by her sister’s rare vote of confidence, Sam remained skeptical. “I hope you’re right, because we can’t survive without the locals.”
Jackie sat back in her chair. “In any case, I wanted the two of you to be the first to know, in case you hear it on the street …”
Sam held her breath, waiting for the news of Jackie’s divorce to follow.
“I mailed in my resignation to Mimi this morning. I no longer work for Motte Interiors.”
Twelve
Faith
All the talk about putting their mama in a retirement home had given Faith a headache, the kind where the pressure built behind her left eye socket until she vomited from the pain. The only relief was a cold washcloth in a darkened room.
As they were crossing the street on the way back to the market, Faith said, “I’m pretty much caught up in the office. If you don’t mind, I’m gonna call it a day. I’m coming down with one of my headaches.”
“Having lunch with Jackie is enough to give anyone a headache.” Sam held the door open for her, and they entered the empty showroom. “From the looks of things, we won’t need you on the floor this afternoon, anyway.”
They had no idea what to expect from their first weekday of business in their newly refurbished home. Mondays had always been a slow day for them. For a brief time, about four or five years ago, they closed the market on Saturday night and didn’t reopen until Tuesday morning.
“How was lunch?” Lovie asked. “It does my heart good to see you girls getting along so well.”
“We didn’t kill each other, if that’s what you want to know. I take it business was slow while we were gone?” Sam said.
“Not a single soul has crossed the threshold.”
“We need to advertise to the local working crowd, to get the word out about our lunch specials,” Sam said.
“Why don’t I make up some fliers?” Faith volunteered, wincing from the pain in her skull.
Lovie looked closely at her youngest daughter. “Headache?”
“A bad one,” Faith said.
Her mother withdrew a large bottle of Advil from beneath the checkout counter. She shook out three capsules and handed them to Faith, who popped the pills into her mouth and swallowed them without water.
“Why don’t you go on home.” Sam draped her arm around her shoulders and escorted her to the kitchen. “Do you need me to drive you?”
“No, I’ll be fine,” Faith said as she headed toward the back door.
Faith had organized activities for Bitsy for most of the summer—bible school and backyard camps run by teenagers. She’d even sprung for a week of adventure camp, sponsored by the local forestry service. But she hadn’t found any affordable programs for the first two weeks of the summer break. Since Curtis was currently unemployed, Faith considered it his responsibility to take care of their child while she worked. But when she drove up in front of the trailer and noticed his bike missing, the throbbing in her head worsened. Surely he wouldn’t be stupid enough to leave Bitsy alone again after she’d threatened him with a shotgun the other night.
“Where’s your daddy?” Faith asked her daughter who was curled up on the sofa watching SpongeBob.
Bitsy shrugged, her eyes glued to the television. “He said he was gonna get some lunch and come right back.”
Faith experienced the first wave of nausea. “How long ago was that?”
“I don’t know. I got hungry, though. I couldn’t wait.” She gestured toward a can of Vienna sausages on the coffee table. “I cut my finger on the rim.” She held her index finger up for Faith to see. The cut was short but deep with a bit of blood oozing out.
“Come here, honey.” Faith pulled Bitsy to her feet and led her to the kitchen. She lifted her daughter onto the counter, rinsed her cut in the sink, and wrapped a princess Band-Aid around it.
“Listen, Bits, this is very important. I need to know how long Daddy’s been gone.”
Bitsy stared at her wide-eyed.
“Have you been watching SpongeBob the whole time?”
The little girl nodded.
Faith scooped Bitsy in her arms and carried her back to the den and over to the antique clock. “It’s two o’clock now. See, the big hand is on the twelve and the little hand is on the two. Do you know where the little hand was when Daddy left?”
Bitsy studied the clock. “On the twelve, I think.”
She pointed at the twelve. “You mean both hands were here.”
“Yes.”
Faith’s skin crawled. Curtis had left their daughter alone for two hours. “That means you watched four different episodes of SpongeBob.”
“There was nothing else to do. Am I in trouble?”
“Not at all, sweetie.” She kissed her daughter’s forehead. “How would you like to go down to the docks later to see what the fishermen caught?”
Bitsy clasped her hands together. “Do you think Captain Mack will be there?”
“I certainly hope so.” Faith set Bitsy down. “In the meantime, let�
��s you and I go have a little rest in my bed.”
Bitsy stared up at her mother. “But I’m not tired.”
“Then you can read one of your books while I close my eyes for a while.”
Bitsy skipped over to the basket of books on the coffee table and dug through them until she found the ones she wanted—The Diary of a Wimpy Kid and a Dr. Seuss, Faith’s favorite, Green Eggs and Ham.
Nestled together in bed, Faith closed her eyes and immediately dozed off. It was nearing four o’clock when she woke up, headache free, with Bitsy sleeping soundly beside her. Faith sensed the stillness in the trailer. Curtis had still not come home.
Anger pulsed through her body. She’d told Curtis not to expect her until dinner. If she hadn’t come home early from work, their six-year-old would’ve spent the afternoon in the trailer, in the middle of the woods. Alone.
“Hey, Sleeping Beauty.” She gently nudged Bitsy awake. “Are you ready to go down to the docks?”
Bitsy’s eyes shot open. “Can we get a hotdog for supper?”
“You bet.”
Bitsy hopped to her feet and began jumping up and down on the bed. “Can we go to Sandy’s for ice cream afterward?”
“Only if you brush your hair and teeth before we go.”
“Yippee!” Bitsy jumped one last time, then leapt from the bed and dashed to the bathroom.
With Bitsy tucked into her car seat behind her, Faith rolled down the truck windows and turned up the radio. She refused to let Curtis spoil their outing. She planned to confront him later, but first, she needed more information about her husband’s habits.
She waited until Taylor Swift had finished serenading them about her “Love Story” before she sought out Bitsy’s yellow green eyes in the rearview mirror. “Did Daddy leave you at home alone last week while I was at work?”
Bitsy chewed on her lower lip. “I don’t like it when his friends come over. The house gets all smoky from their cigarettes, and Daddy makes me stay in my room. Or else.”
Dread descended upon Faith. “Or else what, Bitsy?”
Bitsy looked away. “Else nothing,” she mumbled.
“Listen to me, Bitsy. Look at me.”
Bitsy met her mother’s gaze in the rearview mirror.
“I’m going to tell Daddy not to let his friends come over anymore, and not to leave you at home alone. But if it happens again, I want you to call me right away. I showed you how to call me, remember?”
“Uh-huh. You wrote your cell number down in that little black book right beside the phone in the kitchen.”
“Along with Aunt Sam’s and Lovie’s and the number to the market.”
“I remember,” she said.
When they arrived at the marina, the boardwalk, running along the creek, was packed with people out enjoying the summer evening. A quick band of rain showers had come through during their nap, cooling the earth down and taking with it the humidity.
They bought hotdogs from a vendor and ate them while leaning against the railing and watching the captains maneuver their boats into the slips below. The mates were busy spraying down the boats and cleaning fish at the sinks set up along the dock. Several of the fishermen waved up at them—the older men who were Oscar’s friends and the younger ones Faith knew from Sweeney’s.
Captain Mack made a game out of holding the fish up for Bitsy to identify. “Wahoo, tuna, and mahi-mahi,” Bitsy shouted. Captain Mack had taught her well.
They watched the sun set over the horizon, then stopped in at Sandy’s for strawberry ice cream before heading home. There was no sign of Curtis. Unless he’d come home and gone out again. Faith’s stomach flip-flopped over the confrontation ahead of her. As much as she wanted to rip his head off, she was terrified of his retaliation.
Faith was helping Bitsy get out of the bathtub when Curtis finally stumbled in the door. “Go pick out a book and crawl in bed,” she said, tugging the nightgown over the child’s head. “I’ll be in to read it to you after I talk to Daddy for a minute.”
She found Curtis in the kitchen, searching the contents of the refrigerator. “We need to talk.”
“After I eat. I’m starving.” He handed her a Tupperware container with last week’s spaghetti. “Here. Heat this up.”
Faith pointed at their bedroom. “Your dinner can wait.”
“What’s crawling up your butt?” he asked when they were alone in the bedroom.
“How dare you leave a six-year-old girl alone in the house all day.”
He shrugged it off. “I didn’t mean to be gone so long. I got to playing cards with the guys.”
He lost his balance and toppled over into the bedside table, catching the lamp before it went crashing to the floor. Faith went to the window and peeked through the blinds. “I can’t believe you drove your bike home in your condition. You’re gonna kill somebody, Curtis. I just hope it’s not a little kid. Like Bitsy. ”
“You’re gonna kill somebody, Curtis,” he said, mocking her in a high-pitched voice.
“Listen, damn it. We had a deal. You are supposed to be looking out for her this week while I’m at work. Think of it as your job.”
He laughed. “In that case, I expect to get paid.”
“You’ll get paid on Friday, for the work you did at Sweeney’s last week.”
“Then you’ll have to give me some money to carry me over, because I’m broke.”
Faith had spent her last dollar on ice cream. “Sorry, I’m fresh out of cash.”
He grabbed a fistful of her shirt and pulled her to him, so close she could smell the beer and stale tobacco on his breath. “If you don’t find some money from somewhere, we’re gonna be sleeping on the streets.”
“Sleeping on the streets? What do you mean? What’ve you done?” she asked.
“Let’s just say I got dealt a bad hand, kind of like when I married you.”
He pushed her down on the bed and whipped off his belt. Cowering back against the headboard, Faith saw hatred in his bloodshot eyes. He was preparing to strike, with his belt in the air, when a tiny gasped stopped him.
Bitsy stood in the doorway with her thumb stuck in her mouth. “Is Mama getting a spanking too, Daddy?”
Faith remembered her daughter’s words from earlier. Stay in your room or else. Was his belt the or else?
She choked back her fury. “No, sweetheart. Daddy is just getting undressed. Go on back to your room. I’ll be there to read to you in a minute.”
“Okay, Mama,” she said and scampered off.
Faith drew her leg up to her chest for leverage and kicked Curtis in the gut as hard as she could. As he staggered backward, he tripped over his own feet and fell to the ground.
She snatched the belt away from him. “How dare you beat my child.”
He clutched at his stomach. “How else is she going to learn to obey?”
Faith folded the belt in half, and snapped it loudly. “If you ever touch her again, I’ll beat you till your skin bleeds.” She tossed the belt on the bed and ran to Bitsy’s room, slamming the door and pushing the bureau behind it to create a barricade.
“What’s wrong, Mama?” Bitsy whimpered. “Did Daddy send you to my room, too?”
“No, honey. We’re playing hide-and-seek.” Faith turned off the bedside table lamp so her daughter couldn’t see her tears. “He won’t be able to find us in the dark.”
Heart pounding, Faith crawled into bed and wrapped her arms around Bitsy, holding her tight. She lay awake long after Bitsy had fallen asleep, imagining the horrors her daughter had experienced at the hands of that lunatic. How long had the brutality been going on? He’d had plenty of opportunity. He looked after Bitsy every Saturday during the school year while Faith worked at the market. She’d never seen any bruises or marks on her daughter, but that didn’t mean they didn’t exist.
Sometime around midnight, she got up and crammed some of Bitsy’s clothes in her pink school backpack. She pushed the bureau away from the door and slowly turned the knob, pr
aying the hinges wouldn’t squeak. She gathered their necessities from the bathroom and tossed them into an empty pillowcase. She tiptoed into her bedroom. As she was reaching for her underwear drawer, Curtis shined a flashlight in her face.
“Just where do you think you’re going?” he asked.
Faith gathered an armful of underwear and opened the drawer below. “To Sam’s. You and I need some time to cool off.” Her arms full of clothes, she turned toward the door.
“You better think twice before you go crying to Sister Sammy.”
The warning tone in his voice stopped her dead in her tracks. “I’m not going to cry to her. I’m just going to stay with her for a few days.”
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Unless you want Sam to know about your extracurricular activities at work. Be mighty embarrassing for you to get caught with your hand in Sweeney’s cookie jar.”
Faith turned around to face him, her courage fueled by her anger. “You wouldn’t.”
“Hell yes I would.”
“But you forced me …”
“Do you seriously think Sam will care whether or not I forced you? What you did was illegal.”
Faith knew she was trapped. She dropped the load of clothes in the middle of the floor and went back to bed in Bitsy’s room. She was still staring at the ceiling, the hopelessness of her situation sinking in, when the sun peeked through the blinds the following morning.
Thirteen
Samantha
Late Tuesday afternoon, Lovie announced as the market was closing that it was time for her to go home. “Tomorrow is my day off, and I’d like to use my free time getting settled, doing chores and running errands. I miss having my own car.”
Sam switched off the overhead lights, then locked the door behind them and headed to the parking lot. “Are you sure you should be driving?”
“I’m tired of all the fuss, Sammie. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
Sam couldn’t argue. She’d been watching her mother closely for the past few days, and Lovie seemed like her old self in every way, aside from being a little forgetful. But what eighty-two-year-old woman didn’t have trouble remembering things at times? She’d even noticed her own short-term memory wasn’t as sharp as it once was.
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