The Heist

by Carolyn LaRoche

  Finally, I spoke against the warmth of his chest. “I love you, Andy. I’m sorry, too. I don’t know what’s going on with me anymore. I don’t feel like myself since the coma. I go back and forth between feeling great and feeling completely out of control. Between the seizures and now the potassium thing, I feel broken all the time. Like I have to prove that I am the same Susie Timmons I was before that bastard ran over me.”

  He held me away from his chest and peered deep into my eyes. The brown of Andy’s eyes should have been deep and indiscernible but I could see the reflection of every emotion he had ever experienced there before me.

  “You are the same Susie. You are my Susie. I will love you no matter what. I only want to keep you safe. Thinking of you getting hurt again is almost more than I can stand.”

  “I know,” I whispered softly. “But you can’t put me in a bubble and never let me live again either.”

  “I know I can’t but it doesn’t stop me from wanting to.” He laughed halfheartedly.

  “My life may be a little different right now, but it’s still my life. If I stay in this house all day, every day, I might lose my mind.”

  “I can’t imagine how it must feel to be you right now, Susie. I’m sorry if I lost my mind a little bit last night but seriously, honey, I’m scared. I’m scared that something will happen to you again and I won’t be there to save you. Just like I wasn’t there when that bastard ran you over.” Andy’s voice broke on the last word.

  Suddenly, I understood exactly what Andy had been going through all these months and my heart went out to him. It didn’t give him the right to lock me away but at least it all made more sense finally.

  “Andy, you can’t save me from everything you know. Life goes on even when you are not around. You can’t call my friends and check up on me either. I love that you want to be there and protect me but you can’t lock me up to do it. I want to live still even if my life is somewhat different than it was before.”

  He raised his hands in surrender. “OK, Susie. I got it. You want a life. I have to let you live it. I don’t have to like it though, do I?”

  I hugged him tight. “No Andy, you don’t have to like it.”

  Andy and I had finally reached a compromise. After being at an impasse for so long it felt good to have made even just the slightest progress towards a return to normalcy in the Timmons household. My disappearing act that morning had kept Andy awake all day so after our little chat he decided to grab a few hours rest before his night shift. I wandered from room to room unsettled, full of nervous energy.

  Eventually, the boys came home from school. When I heard the kids enter the house, I headed toward the kitchen. I stopped by the family room door to listen to the patter of little feet as A.J. and Sammy ran up and down the hallway putting up backpacks and hanging coats in the closet was a welcoming sound. I missed my boys. I really had to make a point of taking back some of my responsibility in their care. Maybe that would prove to Andy that I wasn’t as useless as he seemed to think I had become.

  When I entered the kitchen, A.J. sat at the table doing his homework. Sammy pushed matchbox cars along the pattern of the linoleum, using the tiles as race tracks.

  “Hi, Mom.” A.J. glanced up from his math book to flash me one of his amazing smiles. My oldest boy was the exact image of his father, only smaller. The resemblance between them in pictures when Andy was a child was almost uncanny.

  I walked over to him, leaned over and kissed him on the top of the head. “Hi, Sweetie. Did you have a good day in school today?”

  “I got an A on my social studies test and Daniel had to go to the principal’s office.”

  Daniel was my nephew. Mostly he could be a real sweetheart but he had a little edge to him. He sure kept my sister on her toes.

  “Oh, no. What did he do this time?” I tried to feign shock and surprise for my son’s benefit. Daniel visiting the principal happened weekly.

  “He said the “F” word.”

  Now that surprised me. “The “F” word?”

  “Yup.” A.J. nodded his head for emphasis. “He told Jack that he was a f-a-g.”

  Ah, that “F” word. Not much better coming from the mouth of a grade schooler.

  “Now why would he call Jack that name?” Better yet, where did Daniel learn a word like that? My sister wouldn't tolerate that kind of language from anyone. Oh, I bet she just loved getting that phone call today.

  “Because he brought a baby doll to school.”

  “There's nothing wrong with that. Why did he bring a doll to school?” I inquired, very carefully, trying to keep my tone light.

  “Because his mom is going to have a baby and he wanted to tell us about it.”

  Well, that made sense. Kudos to Jack’s parents for trying to prepare him for such a big change in his life.

  “So, is he having a little brother or a little sister?”

  “A sister, mom.” His tone said duh. “Why else would he bring in a baby doll?” He sighed in exasperation and went back to his work.

  I choked back a laugh and turned to say hello to my littlest man still crawling around on the floor with his cars. “Hey, Sammy. Whatcha doing down there?”

  “Hi, Mommy!” He jumped up and gave me a quick hug then returned to the floor to continue playing.

  As I watched my little men in my humble kitchen I found myself grateful that I had all of this to call my own.

  From somewhere in the house I heard Andy’s cell phone ring. A few seconds later I heard drawers opening and closing and a door slam. Rushing to our bedroom, I threw open the door.

  “Andy, what…?” My voice caught in my throat as I saw my husband’s face. Eyes red rimmed and bloodshot; sadness emanating from his body in waves.

  “Oh, no, Andy. What is it? What’s wrong?”

  “There's been a shooting.” His quiet voice, barely loud enough to be heard, told me everything I needed to know. One of his brothers in blue had been killed in the line of duty.

  I dropped down on the bed and just stared at him in shock. “Oh, God, Andy. Who?”

  “Joe Sansone.”

  “What happened?”

  “He responded to a call for a domestic. Husband and wife—and I use those terms loosely—were going at it over who got to eat the last frozen pizza. He stabbed her with a steak knife, she got him with the pizza cutter.”

  “Are you freakin’ serious? She attacked him with a pizza cutter? Can those things even hurt someone?”

  “Apparently so because the husband was pissed enough to pull out a Glock and attempt to shoot her with it.” I could hear the exhaustion and sadness in Andy’s voice as recounted the story to me. I sometimes forgot the serious and crazy things he dealt with on a daily basis.

  “So, what happened next?”

  “Joe rolled up on scene. He must have gotten cocky thinking this was a no brainer and didn’t wait for backup. He just marked out and said he was going in. Next thing we heard was an officer needs assistance call and the sound of gunshots. Joe must have heard the dude firing at his wife because he kicked the door in. The rotten bastard turned on Joe when the door flew open and fired four rounds at him. Stupid bastard had good aim, got Joe with all four shots.”

  “Were they fatal?” I was reluctant to ask the one thing I really wanted to know.

  “No, but he’s in critical condition. Two of the rounds caught him in the chest but the vest slowed them down enough that he didn’t sustain much injury there. Another got him in the leg but the last one nicked the carotid artery. He lost a hell of a lot of blood. They have him in surgery at General. The guys are sitting vigil. I just came home to change and let you know what happened. I guess I fell asleep. I should be there now. We all want to be there when he wakes up.”

  “Stupid fool!” I punched the bed next to me with my fist. “Why didn’t he wait for back up? Now Kelly is going to have to raise that baby girl all by herself! What the hell was he thinking?”

  “He did what any of us
would have done. He heard shots, and he knew there was a woman in there. Joe did the right thing. What I would have done!”

  “Oh, great! So, you would burst into a house with gunshots sounding from it all by yourself? Super Andy saves the day! You are not the damned man of steel you know! None of you are! What the hell is wrong with him?” I collapsed into tears then.

  Andy dropped to his knees by the bed and took my face in his hands. His eyes searched deep within mine, looking for answers to questions not yet asked. “Susie? What is really going on here?”

  “I’m upset! Joe got shot!” I snapped at him.

  “Are you sure that’s all?” His tone was gentle yet probing.

  “Well, it could have been you! Isn’t that always the case? Every time I send you out that door, you could be next.” I slapped my knee for emphasis.

  “Yes, it’s true but you knew that years ago. Why is it suddenly bothering you so much now?”

  “I am so sick and tired of everyone we know suffering! We are good people; our friends are good people. Why do good people always have to pay the price for the sins of the world? Wasn’t it bad enough that I lost my job and had to work in a fast food restaurant? No, apparently that wasn’t humiliating enough. I then had to nearly die, sustain head trauma that will be with me for the rest of my life, and lose my job at said fast food chain. Now, Joe, who just became a father, may die because some ass didn’t get his pizza fast enough! Now you tell me where is the justice in that? What the hell is going on in this world?”

  I dropped back against the pillows exhausted. Andy just looked at me, speechless. I closed my eyes and let the silence of the room envelope me.

  Finally, my husband spoke. “I had no idea you were carrying all of that around with you, Susie.”

  “I feel like the trauma is never ending. Everyone I know is suffering. Maybe I should have died in that accident. Does God feel cheated because I survived? Is that it? He didn’t get me so he is trying to make up for it? When will it stop? Should I just kill myself now so that he will leave everyone else alone?” I dropped my head into my hands and sobbed again. I cried more than I remembered crying in my entire adult life.

  “Now, you listen to me, Susan Marie Timmons! God has nothing to do with this! You were not meant to die or you would have! Joe was shot by a man—a very crazy man—who lost his mind over a damned frozen pizza! It's not God’s fault Joe burst into that apartment without cover or backup. Joe had free will and he made the decision himself. I sincerely doubt that you are powerful enough in the grand scheme of the universe to defy death and cause it in another! Where the hell do you get off being so full of yourself?”

  I stared at Andy in shock. His eyes flashed with emotion and I could swear he wanted to shake me. He had never spoken to me like that before and I could tell that he meant every word. I could think of nothing in reply so I dropped my eyes to the floor and studied the wear pattern in the old, threadbare carpet.

  “Susie?” I ignored him.

  “Susie? Look at me!” The cop voice came out then.

  I reluctantly lifted my eyes to meet his with a carefully meted scowl on my face. “What?” I snapped, making sure my scowl stayed in place and the appropriate amount of sarcasm colored my tone.

  “Did you hear anything I just said?” His tone softened just the slightest bit.

  “Yes,” I grumbled.

  “You are not responsible for these events. I am so thankful to God that he did not take you away from us. What would the boys and I do without you?”

  “Really?” I looked at him again with much less of a scowl.

  “What do you mean, ‘really’? Of course, I am grateful. You are my wife. I love you! I don’t want to raise our children alone. They were our dream together!” He picked up my hands and held them in his. I tried to pull back but he was stronger than me and he wouldn’t let me.

  “It seems like your mother takes care of things around here well enough that you really don’t need me. I am just so tired, Andy. Tired of feeling broken and lost, tired of suffering and watching those around me suffer even more. Sometimes I just think life would have been easier if I had not survived.”

  “Well, I don’t ever want to hear you say that again. It’s a ridiculous notion. You are so important to us. How could you ever think that we would be better off without you?” Andy stood up, pulling me to my feet with him. He wrapped his arms around me and held me close. I rested my cheek against his chest. We were just the right height together that my ear rested right above his heart. The comfort of the rhythm of its beating soothed me almost instantly.

  Against his chest, I whispered, “I am so tired, Andy. Completely emotionally drained and I don’t know how to fix it.”

  “You have to stop trying to fix everybody’s problems. Stick to ours. We have plenty!’ He chuckled without humor. “I have to get over to the hospital now, honey. I want to be there when Joe comes out of surgery. Do you want to come with me?”

  “No, I think I will just stay here and play with the boys. We can make a paper chain to decorate the tree with or something.”

  “Are you sure? I hate to leave you so upset but I should be there. I was Joe’s field training officer.”

  “I’m sure. Go ahead, show your support. His wife is going to need all the support she can get. Let me know how he’s doing later, okay?”

  “Okay. I will keep you posted.” He leaned down to kiss me. “I really do love you, you know. And I am so glad that you didn’t die. You need to know that and don’t ever forget it.”

  I stayed in our room until I heard his cruiser heading off down the street. Then I got up and closed the door to my bedroom and screamed. I screamed until I was hoarse. I fully expected my mother in law to come running down the hall and start pounding on my door demanding I be quiet but there wasn’t a sound anywhere in the house.

  A slight ache had begun to build behind my eyes. I had not had much in the way of head pain since my little trip to the emergency room so feeling it now was making me anxious. If the seizures were coming back, I was going to completely lose my mind.

  Three steps forward, two steps back. The words just kept bouncing around inside my head as the headache intensified. I headed to the kitchen for a drink of water.

  Please don’t let the seizures come back.

  I groaned softly as I squeezed my eyes shut willing the pain away. I stood absolutely still as I felt the muscles in my face begin to twitch. I didn’t want the boys to witness anything scary so I struggled to remain upright, fighting the urges coursing through my nervous system brought on by the damage to my brain. I focused my thoughts on A.J. and Sammy and Andy.

  I thought about the last vacation we had gone on. A trip to Rhode Island half a dozen summers ago. Sammy was barely walking but he loved the sand and the waves even when they knocked him flat on his diapered bottom. Each time he would stand back up laughing and run back into the surf. New England beaches were so different from the oceanfront in Virginia Beach. The sand was not as white, the water not as clear and certainly not as warm but watching the sun drop down over the horizon—Virginia sunsets just couldn't compare.

  As I stood there, contemplating the beauty of sunsets, the twitching in my face began to subside followed eventually by the pain in my brain. A good twenty minutes must have passed because the kitchen had gone nearly dark with the early dusk of fall. Moving slowly, I stepped out of the laundry area and into the kitchen. My legs felt a bit weak but the streaking pains in my head had subsided almost completely. Using the dining table for support, I worked my way across the room to the sink for a glass of water. As I reached up to the cabinet for a cup, I noticed my hand still shook noticeably.

  “Come on, Susie. Get it together,” I chastised myself aloud. “The girls need you tomorrow.”

  Choosing a plastic tumbler just to be on the safe side, I opened the tap and filled the cup with cold water. As I sipped the water, the shaking in my hands slowly subsided and I began to feel a bit stronger.<
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  Behind me the phone rang. It scared me enough to make me drop my cup in the sink. It was a good thing I had chosen a plastic one. I turned to grab the phone off the counter.

  “Hello?” I spoke into the receiver, my voice noticeably shaky.

  “Mr. Andrew Timmons, please.” A high pitched, whiny, female voice reached my ear instantly raising my guard.

  “He is not available. May I take a message please?”

  “Is this Mrs. Timmons?” the voice asked.

  “As a matter of fact, it is.” I responded a bit snippier than I had intended.

  “My name is Cynthia. I am calling from the treasurer’s office. It has come to our attention that you have not paid your private property taxes on your vehicle.”

  “What vehicle? The only car we have now is his police car. My car was totaled in a wreck several months ago.”

  “Was the other vehicle a Ford Focus?”

  “Yes, it was.”

  “Well, our records show the property taxes were not paid last year or this year.”

  “I can’t pay it right now. I was in an accident—“

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Timmons, but the account is past due. Way past due. I am only calling to notify you that we will be attaching the debt to his paycheck and taking the past due funds from his pay on the fifteenth of this month.”

  “All of it?” I asked in shock. That was only five days away and barely more than a week before Christmas.

  “Yes, ma’am. Your husband is a city employee so payroll will handle it.”

  “Just how much are we talking about, Cynthia?”

  “Seven hundred and forty-two dollars and fifteen cents.”

  “Seven hundred dollars? That’s more than half his paycheck! Christmas is just around the corner!”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. But all fiscal responsibilities have to be resolved by year’s end.”

  “Isn’t it customary to dock a paycheck a little bit at a time? Not in large lump sums?”

  “Isn’t it customary to pay your taxes when they are due?” Cynthia snapped back at me. My mouth opened but no sound came out. Several seconds of silence passed before Cynthia spoke again. “Ma’am? Ma’am, are you there?”