***
Locked in the throes of Grace’s rejection the day before, Jess pulled back the sheet. The morning light filtered through the black tarp covering Jess’ bedroom window. Jenna lay beside him naked staring at the ceiling with her mouth taped, and her hands bound. The cat stretched across the end of the bed, licking her paw and wiping her face. The sight made Jess hard, and he ran his hand between Jenna’s thighs. When she didn’t respond, he helped her spread her legs.
“C’mon, Daddy wants a little nookie,” he complained. He gripped himself in one hand as he poked and prodded Jenna’s dry opening with the other. “For Chrissakes!” he seethed. Jenna’s body wouldn’t cooperate.
“I know; I’ll pretend you’re Grace,” he said, his smile twisted. “She tastes sweet.” He pinched one of Jenna’s nipples. She didn’t flinch. “C’mon, Jenna, what’s wrong? Grace was ready for me. She wanted me. Couldn’t get enough. Practically devoured me. Her legs wrapped around me so tight.”
Jess positioned himself over Jenna, He stroked faster. “She wanted me. Oh, God, how she wanted me. Ohhh! Oh yeah! Ahhhh.” Jess collapsed. “Next time,” he panted, “maybe I’ll remove the tape.” He dismounted his wife’s still body and gave himself one last stroke. “Don’t look at me that way, Sweetheart. You used to love my spontaneity.” He laughed as he wiped her chin with a tissue. “Uh, oh. It’s getting late. Got to get to work.”
“By the way, Jen,” he asked, slapping her butt as he rolled off the bed, “are you losing weight?” He turned, his eyes level with hers. “It’s about time. Isn’t that what you used to say to me?”
He placed Jenna’s legs in front of her and covered them with a blanket. “Yeah, I think those were your exact words.”
CHAPTER 13
A CONNECTION
W hen the nightstand alarm sounded at seven-thirty, Grace crawled across the bed to hit the off button. Her head hurt. Her body ached. Flu? No, she thought. Not the flu. She got up and turned on the shower full blast.
The water pelting her tense shoulders had felt glorious before the stream turned tepid. Her hot-water tank was small. Has it been fifteen minutes? If she didn’t wash, she would be rinsing in cold water.
Goosebumps formed on her flesh as she hurried to dress. She took care of Sneaky and then left for work. If traffic were light, she would have time to stop for bagels and coffee and get to the office before nine.
“Morning, Sal.”
“Good— Eww! Rough night?”
Grace pushed her damp hair around with her fingers, thinking it would help until she caught her reflection in Sal’s toaster.
“Don’t start.”
“Fine. I’m not in the mood anyway.”
“What’s wrong?” Grace asked, unpacking bagels.
“Nothing.” Sal popped the tab on her coffee lid. Grace pushed the lever on the toaster.
“Okay, I’ll go first. I didn’t sleep,” Grace admitted.
Sal’s features softened, but she remained aloof, a sign that demanded Grace speak from her heart.
“My mom called again,” Grace said. “I think I mentioned she wants me to help clean out my dad’s things.”
““What’s the hurry?”
“He’s getting worse. I think my mom is going through a grieving period. She wants Daddy’s things packed and ready for hospice. She’s been looking for a smaller place.”
“Are you all right?”
“No, not really.”
“Do you need some help? I could—”
“I’ll be fine. Now tell me, how are you?”
“Tired. I’m happy to be finished with chemo. This damn wig itches, and John has an ulcer.”
“Aren’t we a pair?” Levity swelled as they munched on breakfast, but soon the door opened and their workday began.
“Hi, Lenny, take a seat. I’ll be right with you.”
Lenny stepped inside Grace’s office. He sat and waited until Grace was ready to begin the session.
“What would you like to talk about today?”
“I lost my temper a few times since I was here last.”
“Tell me what happened. What provoked you?”
Grace listened as Lenny went on about his latest tiff. While jotting a few notes, she noticed the hole in his shoe. Above his big toe, his dingy sock worked its way through the ratty canvas. He risked his life for our country, and he can’t afford to buy a pair of shoes. His teeth were in need of repair as well. She noticed his nostrils flared when he talked. Deep furrows surrounded his wide mouth. When he smiled, his dimples folded together in deep creases. Lenny’s eyes were rheumy from years of alcohol abuse. She looked at his date of birth. He’s the same age as Daddy. Her dad’s blue eyes sparkled. “Only when he’s up to something,” according to her mom.
“I can’t take those goddamn, pokey bastards anymore,” Lenny complained. “They’re rude. Some of them old women are nastier than a wet hornet. When I was trying to help one of them onto the bus, she started beatin’ on me. I don’t need that shit. They don’t pay me enough to put up with that shit.”
Grace thought about her father. She knew how difficult he could be at times. How is he treated when he’s having an episode? Grace shuddered to think how her mom would behave in that situation. She had the kind of cantankerous disposition Lenny was referring to.
“What are you doing to control your anger?” Grace nodded toward the tremor in Lenny’s hand. She hadn’t asked about his drinking in a while.
His eyes, dead-set on hers, didn’t waver. “I’ve been hittin’ the bottle.”
“No more AA meetings?”
“Nope.”
“So who comes to mind when these elderly people are pissing you off? Anybody in particular? Mom? Dad? Teachers?”
“My Pa was all shits ’n’ giggles. The man didn’t have a mean bone in his body. Hell, he was a happy drunk. Worked in a shoe store till it closed down.”
“What about your mom?”
“Oohoo, she was another story! My dear sweet mama ruled the roost. She kept everyone in line!”
“How did she do that?”
“Big stick and a wicked tongue. She said some pretty derogatory things to me and my brothers, but that was her way. She was a little thing. We all towered over her by the time we were out of diapers! She had to keep us in line, you know.”
“You had mentioned in our last session that your platoon leader was very abusive. It seems like the authority figures in your life, except your dad, were all abusive.”
Lenny eyes would’ve bored a hole through Grace’s forehead if she hadn’t moved.
“Let’s talk about what makes you angry.”
After forty minutes of Lenny’s venting, Grace walked him to the door. She had a hard time imagining her dad opening up the way Lenny just did. His excuse for remaining distant: “Cardiac Surgeons don’t talk; they listen.” Grace felt he was a man of few words because of his pride. “Problems are for other people,” he’d say. Her mom claimed, “He sure knows how to create them!” Either way, it had been a long time since they had talked.
His dementia widened the gap in their relationship. I upset him. She wasn’t anxious to put herself in that position. There were times he had gotten violent. Accusatory. And there were other times: He didn’t recognize me. It was even more heartbreaking to watch him stare out the window all day.
Grace suspected her mom felt the same way. Thirty-four years of marriage. Not all of them happy, granted, but still, Why doesn’t she spend more time with him? Deep inside, Grace knew the answer.
She brought Lenny’s file to Sal for billing. “By the way, Sal, since I’m going down to see Mom on Thursday, you should take some extra time off; we’ll work it out.”
“I might just do that,” Sal said. “School started last week. John and I can spend some time without the boys hanging around.”
“Great.” Sometimes Grace envied Sal’s relationship with John. Other times she was merely grateful to know happy marriages did exist.
“Don’t know what you mean.”
“You know I’m psychic. You may as well fess up.”
“He stopped by last night to get my phone number. He wants to date me.”
“Is that so bad? I thought he was one of the most handsome men you’ve attracted in a long time!”
“Better than the dentist?” Grace teased. Sal snickered.
“Hate to admit it.”
“Garret was handsome,” Grace said sadly.
“And Jess. He defines Mr. GQ, but the Frenchman…he’s silver screen hot!” Grace smiled and slipped out of one shoe. “He’s nice, too. He sure put Jess in his pla—” Before the words were out, Grace knew she said too much.
“Why did he have to put Jess in his place?”
“Jess got belligerent. He thinks we’re exclusive.”
“Oh boy!”
“Oh boy is right. When I told Jess he couldn’t come over any time he felt like it, I knew he wasn’t overjoyed, but I didn’t expect him to go off on me. Paul happened to stop by. He heard him yelling—long story short.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Nothing. Of course, I could file a restraining order.” She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “He got the message.”
“You can always come and stay with us. The boys are gone, except for Buns. He moved into Sam’s old room downstairs. We hardly know he’s there except when he needs food.”
“I appreciate the offer, but I’ll be fine. I don’t expect to change my life or disrupt anyone else’s ever again.”
“All right. End of conversation. Let’s have coffee and pick out who’s going to make the best and worst list in People magazine this year.” Sal plunked a magazine in front of Grace. She opened it and thumbed through the pages. Neither spoke until Tiny Burton walked through the door.”
Tiny lumbered down the hall after Grace. He sat on the sofa and turned off his cell phone. Grace noticed his hands were filled with fresh scars where his gang tattoos had been removed. He’s trying to fit into society. The clothes he wore were sporty, rather than trendy. He traded his oversize designer jersey for a plain crew-neck T-shirt and his baggy trousers for white cargo shorts. He wore plain Van slip-ons without socks instead of his usual Chuck Taylor Converse high-tops.
“I see you’ve made some changes. Want to talk about it?”
“I got me a job,” he smiled. “It feels good to be workin’ again.”
“Great! Where are you working?” she said, returning the smile.
“I be workin’ for my cousin Ronny, hangin’ drywall.”
“Is your cousin a contractor?”
“Yeah. He been doin’ houses since we got outta high school.”
“Terrific!” Grace made a notation. “Have any more dreams lately?”
Tiny pulled the bottom of his cargo shorts down. He buttoned and unbuttoned his pocket and fussed with his cell phone before he answered.
“I been workin’ so hard, I don’t really have much time to sleep. When I do, I’m really beat. I still think ’bout it.” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “My cousin Ronny knows what happened. He been givin’ me shit.”
“Knows what?”
“Ya know…in jail. He give me shit when he get pissed. Like if the tape ain’t straight. Ya know, da stuff dat ya put between da dry wall.”
“Yes, I follow you. Do you talk to him about what happened to you?”
Tiny laughed. “You got to be kiddin’!” he laughed harder.
Grace waited until he contained himself. She didn’t share his humor. When he stopped laughing, the seriousness of the matter hit home.
“You don’t hafta say fuckin’ nothin’. When you get out, everyfuckin-body knows who’s been in yo business.” Tiny leaned back and crossed his legs. His large foot dangled loosely while he talked. “You be branded, like beef.” He rubbed his hand as if the tattoos suddenly became bothersome.
“So, the violation continues, is that what you’re saying?”
“Fuck yeah.”
“Isn’t he family?”
“Not da kind you be thinkin’.”
“I thought you said he was your cousin?”
Tiny laughed, “We’s not related by blood.”
“I’m not sure I understand?”
“We grew up together. His mama knew my mama. We coulda had da same daddy for all I know,” he chuckled. “Nobody sure. Anyways, his mama and my mama, dey like sistas. Dat make us cousins.”
“Does that give him the right to treat you that way?” “Dats da way it is!” The room got quiet.
“Congratulations, it’s not easy to get a job when you first get out of prison. How do you like construction?” “’S-okay.” He shuffled his feet.
“When your cousin calls you names, do you get angry?”
“Fuck! Wouldn’t you?”
“What do you do when you get angry?” Tiny’s pupils became pinpoints. “I think of dat girl’s face. I think ’bout the sound her nose make when it breaks…and it stops me from killin’ da muthafucka.”
“You think about the girl. From your dream?”
“Yezzim.” Suddenly, Tiny couldn’t make eye contact.
He’s lying.
“Let’s talk about the dream, shall we?”
By the time Tiny Burton left, Grace was unnerved. She knew there was a connection between Tiny and Arlene Pratt. What to do about it was another matter. Something she needed to resolve. Arlene deserved justice.
As much as she wanted to consult Jess, professionally, she didn’t feel he was trustworthy after his disturbing behavior last night. She was afraid he would interpret her need for advice as a green light. No, there must be another way.
***
When Grace didn’t hear back from Dr. Meltz, she called his office. “Rachael, about my appointment, I—”
“Willa and the baby haven’t been released from the hospital yet,” she blurted. “Dr. Meltz hasn’t left her side.”
“I see. Do you expect him back today?”
“No telling. It’s scary, Grace. They’re running tests on the baby.”
“What’s wrong? How soon will they have results?”
“Not sure, Grace. This information didn’t come from me. You get what I’m saying?”
“I hope “good” news travels as fast. I’ll check back. Give him my best. Tell him I’ll be praying to every god I know.”
Grace held the phone to her breast. Please, no more bad news. Acid rose in her throat. She searched her desk drawer. Her anti-acid tablets were gone. Maybe I left them up front.
After rummaging through the cabinet to no avail, she slammed the door shut. “Damn.”
“Tummy givin’ ya trouble?” Sal opened her top drawer, pulled out a box, and withdrew a foil package.
“How is John doing with his ulcer?”
“Pretty good. He doesn’t like me tellin’ him what he can eat. But there ya have it! John likes to be in control. Sound familiar?”
“I have a little heartburn. No big deal.”
“Don’t wait until it’s too late.” Sal squeezed Grace’s forearm lovingly and changed the subject. “Your Mom will be glad to see you.”
“She’ll be glad to get rid of Dad’s stuff.”
“It’s not easy having someone you love deteriorate before your eyes.”
“You’re right. I’m being insensitive. I’m not there. I’m sure Mom is doing all she can for Daddy. I’ll keep my mouth shut, get the “do” list done, and come home.”
“Call if you get overwhelmed. You have a support system. Use it! It’s not just lip service.”
“You plate is full enough.”
“It’s life. Besides, I’m not the one with the ulcer! Nope, John’s the one who stresses, not me! I don’t have time for that crap.” She made one of her sanctimonious faces and checked her fingernails. Grace burst out laughing. “Right!”
“So, do I get to w
atch that beautiful dog of yours?”
“Do you want to? That would be great! I was going to board her at the kennel.”
“No way! Warning though: Buns will want to keep her.”
“Not a chance.”
“I can pick up your mail, too, if you want. It’s on my way home.”
“What did I do to deserve you?”
“You went out with that putz, Warren, the short dentist. I owe you one.”
Grace disappeared into her office and picked up the phone.
When she dialed her Mom, the recorder clicked on.
“Hi, Mom, I’m confirming that I’ll be down Thursday evening. My plane gets in at six-thirty. Don’t wait dinner for me. I’m going to rent a car. I’ll grab a bite to eat on the way. I should be there by eight at the latest. See you then. Bye.” Grace felt a void.
She tried to remember intimate times spent with her mother and couldn’t. Her mom took good care of her. They got along well. But were you close? She thought they were close. There had always been profound respect. What about mother-daughter Hallmark moments? Any come to mind? Thinking about it made Grace sad.
Thank God for Sal.
CHAPTER 14
ORANGE COUNTY
G race pulled into her parent’s driveway at seven-forty-six on Thursday evening as promised. Nothing had changed since her last visit except the for-sale sign in the front yard.
Her mom stooped over potted plants near the front door. She glanced up, acknowledged the interruption and resumed her planting. Grace got out of the car and stood behind her.
“Hi, Mom.”
Her mom’s head turned slowly, her eyes inspecting Grace from head to toe. “You ate something, I hope. You’re skinny.”
“I ate lunch. My flight got in late. I didn’t want to keep you waiting.”
“There are cold cuts in the fridge. Make yourself a sandwich. I’ll be right in.”
“Did you eat?” Grace noticed her mom had slimmed down considerably. She looked great.
“I had dinner with a friend earlier. These petunias are exquisite.” Frances turned her back to Grace.
“I see. Well, I’ll get my things.” Grace backed away, refusing to compete with the plants.
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