Exhausted, Shade tossed her coat aside and sat in the living room. The doorbell startled her. She tiptoed to the front window and pulled the curtain aside, peeking. Darn. Pastor Dave and his wife, Jessica. Maybe they didn’t see me. She dropped to the floor and slithered across the carpet—an army crawl—when his voice called out.
“Shade? It’s Pastor Dave. Are you in there?”
She sighed and stood up, opening the door. “What a nice surprise. Please, come in.”
“Sorry for popping in on you, but we were in the area and thought we’d stop by.”
“I love what you’ve done to your place,” said Jessica. “You’ve been busy. I’m sure it helps keep your mind off of Stanley.”
“So, speaking of Stanley, how are you doing?” said Pastor Dave. “We haven’t seen you in church. Is everything okay? Our prayer warriors continually pray for you.”
“That’s nice to hear. Would you like coffee? I can make a fresh pot?”
“No. We aren’t staying. We just wanted to check in.”
“Well, I’m doing good. I’ve been busy working and babysitting Tyler. By the time Sunday rolls around, I’m drained.”
“That’s understandable,” said Jessica. “But we miss you. You’re like family, and it pains us to not see your smiling face on Sunday.”
“How’s Tyler?” asked Pastor Dave. “We started a new Sunday school class for toddlers. Why don’t you bring him next week?”
“Sunday won’t work. I have plans.”
“Maybe another time. Jessica, why don’t we pray for Shade before we leave?” Dave and Jessica locked hands with Shade, bowing their heads.
“Heavenly Father. We lift up our dear sister in Christ today as she journeys through life without her beloved Stan. We ask that you move the Spirit more boldly in Shade. Give her a heart of discernment and the strength and courage to follow you, even when it’s hard. Amen.”
Her lips pressed tight. They were good people but ignorant to Stan’s monstrous ways. Had they known God allowed this to happen, maybe they would understand why she pulled away.
Later that week, Harry greeted Shade in his office. “Blanche told me a lot about you,” he said, taking her hands. “I’d like to offer my condolences. I’m sure it’s hard being alone. So, what brings you in today?”
“Thank you. I’m here to talk about my grandson, Tyler. My daughter, Adeline, is a single mother, and she and Tyler live with a guy named Jaime. I believe Adeline and Jaime are on drugs, and I think they’re selling drugs. The house is unfit for my grandson, and Adeline is an unfit mother. I’d like to understand what my options are for gaining custody of my grandson.”
“Well, I have little experience with custody suits, but I can put you in contact with someone who does. I do know it’s difficult to win custody but not impossible. There are things the court looks at. You’ll need to prove she’s an unfit mother. Perhaps, get child protective services to check in on him. Maybe a note from the child’s pediatrician. Also, there needs to be documentation of abuse or neglect. The key here is documentation. Something in writing, like a police report or protective services report. If Adeline is a drug addict, it would be a compelling argument. Have you spoken to Adeline about this?”
“Yes, but she shuts me down.”
“Prepare for a long battle. One to two years. I’d suggest you put in a call, anonymously, to child protective services and issue a complaint. When you get more documentation, call me. I’ll put you in touch with a good attorney who specializes in custody lawsuits.”
Leaving Harry’s office, she fixated on the menacing thoughts plaguing her. It wouldn’t be easy. If Addy got suspicious, she might leave the state, and she would never see Tyler again.
She longed for things to be different between her and Addy. Her thoughts turned to the smart, popular girl she once was—until Stan destroyed her. Grief pooled in her soul, as she considered her own shortcomings. Her ignorance. Never paying attention to the signs. Worshipping Stan while sacrificing her daughter. A lamb to the slaughter.
One last task. She fingered the card Calvin had given her at the rest area. Picturing him in his worn, black leather jacket sent prickles through her body. But, he’s a married man. Oh, but a little tryst wouldn’t hurt anything. She stared at the card for several minutes, her stomach pitching. Should she, or shouldn’t she?
She jerked at the sound of his voice on the other end of the line. She considered hanging up but reclaimed her courage.
“Hi. This is Shade. Not sure you remember me, but you gave me your card at a rest area in Michigan. You were on your motorcycle.”
“Well, hello. I’m glad you called.”
Now what? Do I ask him out? “So, how’ve you been? How’s the wife?” She let out a gasp. What a ridiculous comment. She contemplated ending the call. Again.
“I see you have a sense of humor. I like that. You’re not just a brainless beauty.”
Her face flushed at the backhanded compliment. “So, why did you give me your number?”
“Why did you call?”
“To be honest, I don’t know.”
“Well, why don’t we meet sometime, and we can figure it out. What are you doing this Saturday?”
“Let me look at my calendar.” She let a few seconds pass. “Oh, I’m free on Saturday. Looks like you hit the jackpot.”
He laughed. “Why don’t we meet around seven in the bar at the Hyatt Inn over in Fairmont? Are you familiar with the place?”
“No, but I can ask my husband,” she said, smirking. “He might know.”
“Funny. See ya then.”
Hair up? Hair down? Black dress? Red dress? She spent over an hour primping, and re-primping. She blew her hair dry and let it fall over her shoulders. After applying makeup, she put on the casual, clingy black dress, slipped on a pair of high heels and looked in the mirror, remarking to her decked out self, “Knock ‘em dead, Shade.” She grabbed her clutch bag and sashayed out the front door.
Emotions swirled during the thirty-minute drive to the Hyatt Inn. Excitement turned to panic. What if he wants to sleep with me? How naïve of me to assume we’d meet in a hotel, both of us married—or so he thinks—and just chat. Something told her to turn back. She ignored her conscience and pulled into the parking lot.
The cocktail bar was packed with lively patrons. Calvin sat at a high-top table against the wall, drinking a beer and checking himself out in a mirror.
A large potted fern in the lobby provided the perfect smokescreen. She stood behind it, observing. Should I go through with this? She had to admit he was gorgeous.
Coming around from behind the plant, she sauntered toward him. Her head high. Her stride seductive. An attractive woman walked past his table. He handed her his card and uttered something to her. The woman turned and tossed her cocktail in his face, causing a colorful paper umbrella to plunge into his hair and stick.
Shade gulped. She stepped back behind the fern, watching. While blotting his face with a napkin, oblivious to the umbrella garnish in his hair, a large, muscular man approached and grabbed him by the collar, hurling him against the bar and sending bottles crashing to the floor. Calvin tried to recapture his dignity before Mr. Universe delivered a blow to his face, knocking him unconscious.
Driving home in her little black dress, she reflected on the evening. I’m trying to get custody of my grandson, and I’m acting like the town whore. What am I thinking?
Once inside her cozy little house, she slipped on her pajamas. Be more careful. And responsible. Duly noted.
Chapter Eight
When tempted, no one should say, “God is tempting me.” For God cannot be tempted by evil, nor does he tempt anyone; but each person is tempted when they are dragged away by their own evil desire and enticed.
James 1:13-14
Year 1997
The dove gray skies gave way to spring as the lifeless landscape exploded into a dazzling array of colors. Rejuvenated, Shade labored in her yard, digging her fing
ers into the moist soil, dropping in the small herb and vegetable plants she purchased at the nursery.
Business at the bakery thrived, and Shade picked up additional hours to help handle the workload. Bonnie had given her a pay increase and more responsibilities; keeping the books, taking inventory and ordering supplies. The business ran like a well-oiled machine.
Shade continued her efforts to gain custody of Tyler, placing several anonymous calls into child protective services. But each time she inquired, she received the same answer. “We found no evidence of abuse or neglect in the home.”
Addy called the following week, asking if Tyler could stay overnight. Jaime had something planned for the two of them—for Addy’s birthday. Any opportunity to spend time with Tyler was a godsend.
At three-years-old, Tyler developed into a typical ‘rough and tumble’ little boy. He loved getting dirty, picking at insects and playing with Matchbox cars. And he loved helping Shade around the house with her chores. His sweet disposition continued to baffle Shade. Living in that home, and under those conditions, it made little sense.
After an active day together, she dressed Tyler in his pajamas. He heaved himself up on his new toddler bed, bouncing around until he wore himself out.
“Sweet dreams my little one,” she said, kissing his forehead. “No more reading tonight.” She tucked the covers around him. “Do you like sleeping at Grandmas?”
“Yeah. Sleep with Jaime, too. Jaime read.”
Her throat squeezed shut, her heart clobbered against her chest. “Do you sleep with Momma and Jaime?”
“Sleep with Jaime. Man-to-man.”
“But—do you sleep in your own bed too?”
“No. Jaime. We sleep.”
“Do you sleep in the big bed? Where your momma sometimes sleeps?”
“No. Jaime. Sleep with Jaime. Man-to-man.”
Her fingers stroked his hair until his eyelids fluttered. Sleep seized him. She went into the kitchen and sat at the table. It’s happening again. My family is cursed. And what does Addy think? Or is she too spaced out to notice? She needed to think. She would reflect on it tomorrow, with a clearer head.
Sunlight streamed through the bedroom window, rousing her from sleep. Her conversation with Tyler came rushing back.
The sound of little feet padding down the hall distracted her. Tyler appeared in the doorway, hands on hips. “Get up Gamma.” He hauled himself up on the bed and jumped around. “Get up. Get up.” Laughing, she pulled him down, snuggling him and planting kisses over his face.
“Would you like pancakes for breakfast? Maybe you can help Grandma in the kitchen.”
“Yeah. I help Gamma.”
Hours ticked away. The snake of despair slithered in. She would soon leave to take Tyler home. How could she look at Jaime? And what would she say to Addy? Addy had to know, but then again, she hadn’t known about Addy and Stan.
On the drive to Addy’s, she decided she would call her the next day. Based on her reaction, she’d determine what to do. She didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but she also didn’t want to repeat the same mistakes she’d made in the past—viewing life through a painted veil.
The time came to make the dreaded call. Her stomach wanted out, tumbling and pounding.
“Do you have time to talk?” asked Shade when Addy answered the phone.
“Yeah, sure. What’s up?”
“I don’t know how to say this, but please listen before you get angry. When Tyler was here yesterday, he said something that troubled me. He told me he sleeps with Jaime—man-to-man. I asked if he slept with both of you, and he said no. Just Jaime. He kept saying ‘man-to-man.’ Is there something going on? Were you aware of this?”’
An unsettling silence lingered before Addy responded. “After what I’ve been through, don’t you think I would know better than anyone, including you, if something horrible was going on? Jaime loves Tyler. They’re buddies. Give it a break, and stop trying to swoop in and rescue Tyler so you can feel good about yourself. I’m done with this ludicrous conversation. And don’t ever bring it up again or you’ll never see Tyler.” Click.
Shade paced the kitchen floor, chewing at her lip. She needed to develop a plan. To continue seeing Tyler, she would make amends with Addy and somehow increase Tyler’s overnight visits. In the meantime, she would get the name of a child custody attorney from Harry. But she had to be careful. Once Addy found out, she’d stop her visits with Tyler, unless she could petition the court for visitation rights. So much to figure out.
Work became her outlet during the day, but sleep evaded her. Images of Jaime abusing Tyler forced their way in. Things will work out, she told herself. She had to stay positive. Think good thoughts.
A week after the difficult conversation, the phone rang. “Hey, Mrs. Lane. It’s Jaime.”
“Jaime? Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, but we’re at Emmet County hospital. Addy fell off the porch and broke her arm. They wanna keep her overnight. She wanted me to ask if you could take Tyler for the night.”
“Yes. Absolutely. I’m on my way.”
Shade ran down the hospital corridor and spotted Jaime and Tyler.
“Gamma,” screamed Tyler, running down the hall toward Shade. “Mama tipped over and broke herself.”
After hugging Tyler, she turned to Jaime. “Where is she? Is she okay?”
“They’re putting a cast on her arm. They said they wanna keep her overnight for observation. I don’t understand why.”
“I’ll try to find the doctor.” Shade headed toward the information desk and spoke to a nurse, who paged Dr. Brown.
“Hello,” said Dr. Brown. “Are you related to Adeline Lane?”
“Yes. I’m her mother. Will she be okay?”
“Yes. She has a fractured ulna. We’re putting a cast on it now. We want to keep her overnight to monitor her vitals. We have reason to believe she’s addicted to street drugs. We’re running some tests.”
Shade’s face turned ashen, her eyes like saucers. “What kind of street drugs?”
“I don’t want to say until we get the test results. We’ll discuss next steps then.”
Shade found Jaime and Tyler sitting next to Addy’s hospital bed. She was propped up, sporting a cast partially covering her left hand and running up to her elbow.
“Hey, Mom,” said Addy, her words tripping over her tongue. “Guess I took a little tumble off the porch.”
Shade went to her, leaning and kissing her forehead. “How are you feeling?’
“Swell,” she said, with a skewed smile. “Can you take Tyler tonight? Jaime wanted to take him home, but I want Jaime to stay here with me for a while.”
“Sure. Did they say how long you’ll be in a cast?” asked Shade.
“Six weeks,” said Addy. “But Jaime will take care of me.”
“What about Tyler? Maybe I can take him until you get the cast off.”
“No need, Mrs. Lane,” said Jaime. “I can take care of them both.”
Shade looked at Tyler curled up in Jaime’s lap, sleeping. “He’s exhausted,” said Shade, reaching for Tyler. “I should get him home and into bed. I’ll bring him back in the morning. Early.” She leaned to kiss Addy. “You get some sleep, honey. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Tyler crawled into bed, his little eyelids struggling to stay open. After reading a bedtime story, she tucked him in.
Shade lay awake, blaming herself for Addy’s troubles. She couldn’t let the same thing happen to Tyler. She vowed to keep him safe. Her mind churned, desperate for answers—for a plan. Maybe I can persuade Addy to live with me for six weeks. Get them both away from Jaime. I can help her get off the drugs and take care of Tyler. But what if she doesn’t agree? Jaime will have more control over Tyler. If he’s abusing Tyler, things could worsen. Think, Shade, think. I need a plan. The minutes dragged into hours as she stared at the ceiling. Two a.m.
The knock at the door caused her to jolt. She looked at the clock. Five a.m. Sli
pping on her robe and slippers, she peered through the curtains. Two men stood on the porch. One looked like a police officer. She opened the door slightly, her heart twanging hard.
“Mrs. Lane?” said the man, peering in, brandishing a silver badge. “I’m Detective Kent Monroe, and this is Officer Bob Thornton. May we come in?”
“Yes—yes, come in,” said Shade, her face pallid. “Has something happened?”
“Do you have a daughter named Adeline Lane?” asked Kent.
“Yes. Why? Is she in trouble?” Sweat bathed her skin, the thump, thump, thump of her heart slammed against her chest.
“I’m sorry to tell you this, but your daughter is dead. We found her at 3765 Needmore Road. We presume she lived there. We’re trying to understand what happened, but it looks like she had been murdered. Along with a guy, Jaime Holder.
Shade sucked in a spurt of air and dropped to the floor, her legs unable to support her. Her chin shuddered, rattling her teeth. She couldn’t speak. The two men helped her up and moved her to the sofa.
“She—She’s in the hospital. I don’t understand.”
“We’re investigating, ma’am. Did your daughter have enemies?”
“No. I—I don’t know. She didn’t say.”
“Do you know if Jaime had any enemies?”
“I—I don’t know. She’s supposed to be in the hospital. Overnight. Are you sure it’s her?”
Tyler appeared in the hallway, balled fists rubbing sleepy eyes. He climbed onto Shade’s lap, snuggling into her neck and sucking his thumb.
Holding him tight, she rocked Tyler from side to side. “It’s okay, honey.”
“Is this your son, ma’am?”
“This is my grandson—Adeline’s son. How did this happen?”
The Essence of Shade Page 7