“My counselor at the halfway house is going to set up an interview for me next week, though,” she said, sounding more optimistic, “with a landscaping company. They’ve been able to place a few people there. It’d only be for the summer, pulling weeds and mowing lawns and stuff. But I wouldn’t mind that. I like working outside.”
Mandy lifted her head and gazed out the window onto the sunlit Saturday sidewalk, smiling as she took in the sight of trees, and people walking their dogs, or talking on their phones, or talking to each other.
“That’s the good part,” she mused. “Being able to walk out the door, go anyplace I want to go, and do anything I want to do. Well, as long as it’s legal and I’m back by eight. The halfway house is pretty strict about curfew.
“What about you?” she asked Hope. “Any luck with the job hunt?”
Hope shook her head. “Not yet. Life on the outside is tough.”
“It sure is,” Mandy said.
* * *
The three women finished their coffee and pastries and got up to leave, yielding their prime table to another group. Hope offered to drive Mandy back to the halfway house but she demurred, saying she was going to walk around the area to see if anyone was hiring, then take the bus. Smiles and hugs were exchanged and Hope reminded Mandy that she’d be happy to serve as a reference if she needed one.
Just before they parted, McKenzie reached into her bag, pulled out a business card, and gave it to Mandy.
“So, listen, a couple of my friends and I have decided to start getting together on Wednesdays after work, here at the coffee shop, to talk and crochet. Well, one of them is actually a knitter, but . . . Anyway, if you’d like to come, give me a call.”
Mandy held the card gingerly in her hand, as if she were cupping a baby bird in her palm, something fragile and precious and utterly unexpected. She looked up at McKenzie.
“Really?”
McKenzie nodded. “I’ll probably only be able to come for a couple more weeks, you know, until the baby comes. But I think it’ll be fun.”
“Wow. Yeah. I’d like that. But . . .” Mandy’s eager expression faded. “I don’t have any needles or yarn or anything. And until I get a job—”
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” McKenzie said, flapping her hand. “Do what I do: shop in Mom’s stash. She’s got enough yarn to open a store.”
“She’s right,” Hope said. “More than I could use in three lifetimes. Honestly, Mandy, you’d be doing me a favor by taking some of it off my hands.”
“You sure?”
“Absolutely,” McKenzie said. “I was planning to follow Mom home and find something for my next project. I can pick out something for you too, if you want. How about purple? You could make Talia a scarf.”
“Okay,” Mandy said, grinning. “That’d be great.”
“Good,” McKenzie replied. “See you on Wednesday.”
* * *
When they got back to the condo, McKenzie parked and then rode upstairs with her mother.
“That was nice of you,” Hope said as the elevator door opened.
“What was?”
“Inviting Mandy to your crocheting group.”
“Oh, well,” McKenzie said. “She seemed lonely. And, anyway, I like her.”
“Well, it was still nice of you. It meant a lot to her. You’re a nice person, you know that?”
“You think so?” McKenzie replied. “Well, don’t let it get around. I’m aiming for another promotion after I get back from maternity leave. But I’ll never make it in management if they think I’m too soft.”
Hope laughed and opened the front door, then stopped dead in her tracks, sniffing the air.
“Oh no,” Hope murmured.
“Dad’s baking again?” McKenzie sniffed too. “What’s wrong? Smells good.”
Hope dropped her purse on the floor.
“Rosemary,” she said, and strode straight to the kitchen.
Chapter 45
When Hope entered the kitchen, Rick was standing at the kitchen counter, slicing bread. Nancy was sitting at the kitchen table, eating it. Both of them looked up when Hope entered the room.
“Nancy! Oh, thank heaven,” Hope said, shoulders slumping with relief. “I thought something bad had happened.”
“Hope has a thing about rosemary,” Rick explained to Nancy before putting his bread knife down on the cutting board. “I’ve got some work to do in the bedroom. So, I think I’ll leave you two to talk.”
He looked at McKenzie, who had entered the room shortly after her mother, with raised brows. McKenzie frowned for a moment, then said, “Right. Well, I’m going to go look for some yarn. Still in the guest room, Mom?”
“The blue plastic bin in the closet. Second shelf from the top on the right-hand side,” Hope said automatically, keeping her eyes on Nancy’s solemn face as she took a seat at the table while Rick and McKenzie left the room.
“I was going to say I was happy to see you, but something tells me I shouldn’t be. Not today.”
Nancy tipped her head to one side, her somber expression softening into one of compassion. “Not today,” she echoed. “It’s not all bad news. But something happened at the prison.”
Hope propped her elbow onto the table and covered her mouth with her hand, steeling herself for what was to come. Nancy took a deep breath, then began to speak.
“Deedee has been asking a lot of questions lately, trying to see if she can get any information about the fight between Nita and Mandy and where that rotary blade could have come from if not the sewing supplies. It seems that she was making progress.
“One of the new girls, Ronda, said she overheard one of the other prisoners saying that she’d heard that Nita had gotten close to one of the cafeteria workers and exchanged—shall we say favors—to get him to smuggle some blades in for her.
“According to Ronda, this prisoner said Nita wanted to get back at Mandy. She had to know she’d get sent back to medium for a while, but apparently, she thought it would be worth it because she knew Mandy had more to lose. Since Mandy was one of the only prisoners with access to the sewing cabinet and since rotary blades are so unusual, she reckoned she’d be able to pin everything on Mandy. And with Mandy being so depressed about possibly losing custody of Talia, and having been on suicide watch in the past—”
“Years ago,” Hope said. “Right after she arrived.”
“Nita thought people would believe it,” Nancy continued, talking over Hope’s interruption.
“Which is exactly what I said must have happened,” Hope said, smacking the table with her hand. “So Deedee found out the truth?”
“Maybe,” Nancy said, holding her hands up as if to warn Hope about getting ahead of herself. “It was all hearsay and speculation. And Ronda, while I wouldn’t call her a pathological liar, seems to have a pretty flexible relationship with the truth.
“You know how things are inside. Rumors are rampant. Put a thousand women behind walls with too much time on their hands and they’re going to spread all kinds of rumors and tell all kinds of tales, some true, some not.
“So even if Ronda overheard this conversation as she claims, that doesn’t mean the people she was eavesdropping on were telling the truth. Plus, Deedee was offering rewards in exchange for information—”
Hope’s face fell. “Kate. And the Fritos.”
“Exactly,” Nancy said. “If some of them were willing to make you cry and quit your job in exchange for a few bags of crisps, it’s not a stretch to think that they’d make up a story about Nita smuggling blades for the same sort of prize.”
“So you don’t think the blade belonged to Nita?” Hope asked.
“I’m getting to that part,” Nancy said, lifting her hand. “Apparently, Nita heard about the story that was going around and that Deedee was the one who’d been asking questions. On Friday, she found Deedee alone in a corner of the courtyard and attacked her.”
“No!” Hope gasped. “Is she all right?”
>
“She will be. The doctors put twenty-two stitches in her forearms—she was trying to defend herself—but apart from the scars, they say she’ll be fine. Nita pulled a blade on her,” Nancy said. “A round one.”
Hope’s mouth dropped open. For a moment, it felt like she’d forgotten to breathe or that her heart had skipped a beat. But then it started pounding, double time, and her eyes brimmed.
“So, it wasn’t Mandy. She didn’t steal the blade from the cabinet.”
Nancy shook her head. “She didn’t.”
“This is amazing news,” Hope said, tears spilling over even as she began to laugh. She shoved her chair back from the table. “Amazing!
“I’ve got to call Diane. No, wait. First I should call Mandy; then I’ll call Diane. And David! The only reason he canceled the quilting program was because of the blades. Does he know about this?”
Hope put her hands against the table to push herself up from her chair. Nancy grabbed her around the wrist.
“Hang on, Hope. You didn’t let me finish.”
There it was again, the feeling that she’d forgotten to breathe. But this time, instead of the thrill of good news, the sensation was caused by the dread that gripped her when she looked into Nancy’s eyes.
“David was in the courtyard when the fight broke out. He was the first staff member on the scene. When he put himself between Nita and Deedee, Nita started going for him instead. The other staff got there as quickly as they could, but . . .” Nancy paused for a moment, swallowed, and blinked back tears. “He was hurt pretty badly.”
Hope sank back down into her chair. “How badly? Is he going to be all right?” she whispered.
“I don’t know. I was with him when the ambulance arrived. He lost a lot of blood. And his face . . .” Two tears rolled down Nancy’s cheeks. “Oh, Hope. His face.”
“Oh, my God.” Hope shut her eyes. “Oh, my God. Please.”
Nancy closed her eyes as well and grabbed Hope’s hand. “Oh yes. Please. Please, God.”
Hope sat there, clutching Nancy’s hand, pleading with raw and honest ineloquence for the life of a man who, until that moment, Hope had not realized was her friend.
Even later, Hope could never say how long they sat there. But, after a time, her pleas were interrupted by the clunking sound of footsteps on the floor as McKenzie came up behind them, clomping into the kitchen in her Crocs.
“Mom? Are you okay?”
Hope wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’m fine,” she said, her voice stark and static. She rose to her feet. “Where’s my purse?”
“Still in the foyer,” McKenzie said. “You dropped it there when you smelled Dad’s bread, remember?”
“That’s right,” Hope said, sniffling as she turned around and started to walk toward the door, where McKenzie was standing. “Okay. Good.”
“Mom?” McKenzie said again, her face a mask of confusion. “Are you going somewhere?”
“Yes,” she said, pushing past her daughter. “To the hospital.”
“Oh. Can I come with you? I think my water just broke.”
* * *
“Well, McKenzie, you’re fully effaced and three centimeters dilated,” the doctor said cheerfully, pulling the sheet down over McKenzie’s knees. “Looks like we’re going to have a baby today.”
McKenzie’s eyes went wide. “Today? Are you sure? I’m not due for three weeks.” She clutched at Hope’s hand. “It’s too soon.”
“No it’s not,” Hope said calmly. “You were early too, remember? And you weighed seven pounds and were healthy as a horse.”
“The baby is fine,” the doctor assured her. “I’m not at all concerned about her being early or underweight. She’s ready.”
“See?” Hope said when the doctor left to go check on some other patients. “Already a chip off the old block. She wants to make an entrance, just like you did.”
McKenzie let out a short groan of pain and surprise, holding her breath for a moment and then letting it out in a whoosh.
“She might be ready,” McKenzie said, looking at her mother, “but I don’t know if I am.”
“Yes, you are. One hundred percent. You’ve got this, Kenz. You are going to be a wonderful mother. This is one lucky little baby.” Hope squeezed McKenzie’s hand and blinked back tears, feeling like she was the lucky one.
“I love you, Mom.”
“I love you too, baby.”
Rick entered the room. “I called Zach. He’s on his way.”
“Good,” Hope said. “What about Ted and Wanda? They wanted to be here for the birth.”
Rick shook his head. “They’re on vacation in Florida, but Zach said they’ll be flying home the day after tomorrow. I don’t think there’s any need for them to change their plans, do you?” he asked, looking at McKenzie. “I don’t think they’d get here in time anyway.”
“And three birth coaches are more than enough,” McKenzie said. “Mom, why don’t you go and see how David is?”
Hope bit her lower lip, torn between the desire to stay by McKenzie’s side and concern for her friend.
“It’s okay,” McKenzie said, rightly reading her mother’s expression. “Nothing is going to happen for hours anyway. And even if it did, Dad’s here.”
“That’s right,” Rick said, smiling at his daughter and putting his arm over Hope’s shoulders. “When it comes to birthing babies, I’m an old hand. Remember?”
* * *
Hope opened the door quietly. The form under the blanket, tethered to the bed by tubes, and wires, and monitors that blinked yellow and green, stirred as she crept into the dimly lit room.
“What now?” asked a weakened but still familiar voice. “Can’t you people just let me sleep?”
“It’s me, David.”
Hope stepped nearer and David turned his head toward her. A pool of light from the wall sconce revealed a ravaged, almost unrecognizable face, swollen and purpled with bruises, his left eye covered with a thick white bandage, another on his throat, his cheeks, jaw, and formerly fine nose cragged by long, angry gashes that had been closed with black thread and uneven stitches, the patchwork visage of a mistreated scarecrow.
Pressing her lips tight together, Hope swallowed back a gasp of horror, then moved to the edge of the bed. To her surprise, he lifted his hand toward her. She took it in hers, blinking back tears.
“What are you doing here?”
“Seeing you. But my daughter is also here and in labor. I’m her birth coach, but her ex-husband is with her right now. It’s going to be a few hours before the baby comes.”
David blinked a couple of times. “Early, isn’t it? The baby?”
“About three weeks. But the doctor says everything should be all right.”
“Good,” he rasped. “I’m glad. A girl, right?”
“Yes,” Hope said, her eyes tearing anew. “Maybe I can bring her by and introduce the two of you later.”
“Oh, I don’t know. One look at me could scar her for life. Scarred for life,” he repeated, chuckling as if he’d just picked up on the irony of his statement.
“No, it wouldn’t. You don’t look that bad. “
David rolled his head slowly to the left, fixing her gaze with his one good eye.
“Don’t take up a life of crime, Hope. You’re a terrible liar.”
She smiled.
“But I’ll be all right. I’m not planning to die, if that’s what you’re wondering.” He released her hand and moved his own slowly to the bandage at his throat. “Nita tried her best; lucky for me, her aim was off.”
“Lucky for all of us,” Hope said.
David attempted a smile. “Wish you’d been in the operating room. Stitches would have been a lot smaller. Stitches . . .” he murmured, his words trailing off and his right eye becoming heavy.
Hope patted his arm. “I’m going to get out of here and let you get some sleep. I’ll be back later, after the baby comes, to see how you’re doing.”
> “Okay,” he mumbled. “Sorry. I’m just so tired.”
“It’s all right.”
“Hope?” His eyelids fluttered. “One thing. Did you take another job yet?”
“No, David. Not yet.”
“Good,” he mumbled. “Don’t.”
Chapter 46
Hope popped open the trunk of her car, took out a large, cube-shaped bakery box, and carried it to the gate. Wayne, looking uncharacteristically cheerful, was there to greet her.
“Mornin’, Hope. Big day, eh? You didn’t bake any files into that cake, did you?”
“Not a one,” Hope said. “You want to see?”
When Wayne said that he did, she put her purse on the ground and lifted the lid of the box a few inches. Wayne peered over the edge.
“Well, that is just about the prettiest cake I ever saw. Too pretty to eat, really. You baked that?”
“It was a collaborative effort,” Hope said. “My husband did the baking—lemon and vanilla layer cake with raspberry filling—and I did the decorating.”
“Will you look at that? You got quilt blocks on the top and the sides. How’d you get ’em so even and keep the frosting from smearing?”
“I didn’t. The frosting is only on the base. I made the blocks from colored marzipan. See?” she said, pointing to the pastel-colored decorations that circled the edge of the cake. “These are Sawtooth Stars. The blocks on the top are Carolina Lily, one of my favorites.”
“Pretty. But sounds like a lot of work,” Wayne said as Hope closed the box.
“It was. But as hard as the girls have worked over the last few months, I wanted to do something special for graduation. I’m really going to miss them.”
“Well, it’s not like most of them are going anywhere anytime soon,” Wayne said. “Well, except Tonya. I hear she’s getting out in a couple of months. And you’ve got a whole new class coming in next week, don’t you?”
“Two classes. And a waiting list,” Hope said, bending down carefully to retrieve her purse. “Is she here yet?”
Wayne shook his head. “They said to expect her around ten fifteen. The wife pressed my uniform extra special. Put so much starch on the collar I can hardly turn my head.” He grinned.
Hope on the Inside Page 32
