The Sin Eater

by Lee McIntyre

  “Before we go back, can you promise me something?” Adam said.

  “Sure. Anything.”

  “Never tell anyone what happened here today, okay? No one. Not your mom. Not your wife if you get married someday. Not even when you get old, all right? This thing has to die with me. It’s too big.” Adam looked at the ground and sucked in a shuddery breath. “I can’t believe I really did it.”

  “Yeah okay,” Tugg said, “But you got something wrong there. What you just said.”

  “What?” Adam said, sucking in mucus.

  “This thing dies with both of us.”

  Chapter 1

  “Hold still, honey. We’re almost done.”

  “The water’s cold again, Daddy. Can you warm it up?”

  Adam Grammaticus smiled at the sparkling face of his three-year-old daughter, Emma. She was working her mouth open and shut like a fish, in a mock attempt at teeth chattering, and had her knees pulled up to her chest in the far end of the bright yellow tub.

  His wife, Kate, sat in the bathroom doorway in her wheelchair, smiling.

  Adam dropped the plastic Halloween bucket and scooted on his knees over to the faucet. He turned on the tap. “Keep back from the hot water and keep your eyes closed. You’ve still got soap in your hair.”

  “I know, Dad.”

  Adam repositioned his towel on the lip of the tub and watched the plastic toys bob in the churning water.

  “Hey Dad, BWAA HAA HAA!” Emma put her hands in front of her eyes and made an elaborate gesture of yanking them off, even though Adam could see that her eyes were still shut.

  “Very funny. Almost warm again.”

  “You remember the time you got soap in my eyes?”

  “Well, I remember the time that you got soap in your eyes. That’s why you have to keep your eyes closed.”

  “I know, Dad. I’m doing it. I’m not a baby anymore.”

  Adam looked over his shoulder and gave Kate a quick smirk. Same beautiful hair. Same radiant smile. For a moment, Adam thought he saw the woman that Emma would become. What had he done to be so lucky?

  “Yeah? Then why are we using baby shampoo?” he said, turning back to his daughter. “Again? Huh?”

  Emma’s cheeks were all scrunched up, in an inscrutable frown of contempt and whimsy. Apparently some questions didn’t deserve an answer.

  Adam wondered how many more years he still had for Daddy to be perfect. Or was it Emma who was perfect? At least they could hope. The doctor had warned them that Kate’s multiple sclerosis might be passed down, but they had refused to get the test. Some things you just didn’t want to know.

  He turned off the tap and mixed the water together with his hands, then scooted back and filled the plastic bucket.

  “Do you want it slow or fast?”

  “Fast is okay.”

  “Hang on, then.” Adam put his left hand over Emma’s face and splashed the entire bucket over her head in one gesture. “Was that okay?”

  “Yes,” Emma sputtered, rubbing her eyes with tiny fists. When the water stopped dripping from her hair, she opened her eyes and looked around the bathroom.

  “There’s Mom!” Emma chirped. “There’s my bucket. There’s the ducks.”

  “What else can you see?” Kate said.

  Emma gave a delighted grin. “There’s the light. There’s the towel. There’s the heater thing I’m not supposed to touch.”

  “Okay,” Adam said. “Stand up.”

  Emma stood and Adam wrapped her in a thirsty white towel, then lifted her out of the tub and grabbed a second towel, which he draped over her head.

  “I can’t see anything now.”

  Adam briskly rubbed the soft brown curls and wiped her ears, then took the towel off her head.

  “Oh, there’s Dad.”

  “Ho, last place as usual. Behind the bucket and the ducks. I guess I don’t count for much around here.”

  Emma reached out a pudgy little hand and put it solemnly against Adam’s face. “Daddy, you’re so handsome you could win a boy contest.”

  Kate and Adam both erupted in laughter, followed, a few seconds later, by an incredulous Emma.

  “Adam, can you go back in and get my sweater? The sun just went behind the trees.”

  Adam lowered Kate into her comfortable chair out on the deck, adjusted her pillows and hustled back through the screen door.

  “It’s not on your wheelchair,” he called out from the living room.

  “Look in the backpack.”

  “Found it,” he said, emerging triumphantly. “Do you want it now? Half the candles are already out, and the food’s going to get cold.”

  “Just lay it on my lap, sweetheart. Thanks.”

  Adam relit the candles and rearranged the plates on the little iron table. A cool breeze blew off Lake Oswego and the water danced like a thousand gold coins from the setting sun. Adam was a long way from the Cedar Shade trailer park in Northeast Portland, where he’d grown up with his stepdad after his mother died when he was twelve. After that, he’d taken off back east for college and never looked back. Twenty years later he was home, living in a house in the richest part of Portland. Not bad.

  “Is it okay?” he said.

  “It’s perfect,” Kate replied. “But the dining room would’ve been okay. I’m sorry about the chair.”

  “We’ll get the door widened this summer,” he said. “There are bound to be a couple of bumps in the road. The new normal, huh? At least the ramp works — sort of.”

  Kate gave him a smile. God, she was gorgeous. That same smile had drawn him hither at the Halloween Dance sophomore year in college and, no matter how much she changed physically, Adam knew that he would never see Kate as anything but the vibrant, kind-hearted girl he had fallen in love with. She had no patience with pity, so Adam had never shown her any, but the truth was that sometimes he felt he was the one who needed help. Everyone had weaknesses. And secrets. Adam saw in Kate a strength that he knew he did not possess. And he also knew a secret: he needed her more than she needed him.

  “You didn’t have to carry me out here,” Kate said. “It’s gorgeous out and you’re sweet, but I would’ve been fine in the chair. For now.”

  “I told you, I’ll carry you anywhere you need to go.”

  “If I get my way, that won’t be necessary. I’m going to get back on the canes if it kills me.”

  “If anyone can, it’s you.” Adam scooted his chair back and jumped to his feet. “But for now, prepare to be served.” He draped a napkin over one arm and removed the serving lid with a flourish. “Voila! No more duck, okay? I learned my lesson. This is just plain old chicken.”

  “It’s perfect.”

  “Do you want me to cut it for you?”

  “I’m not totally incompetent, sweetheart. I can manage. Eat your food.”

  Dinner at home probably wasn’t what Kate had planned for their twelfth anniversary. Then again, it was nice just to have things back to normal. Or close enough. Kate had been fighting her illness ever since college. Until recently, she’d actually been pretty lucky.

  “Just like it’s always been, there’ll be good days and bad,” the doctor had said. But the bad days seemed to be accumulating at an alarming clip. Short of quitting his job, Adam didn’t know what they were going to do until Emma started preschool next year.

  Then they’d found Rachel.

  Kate stabbed a piece of chicken and dragged it through the mushroom sauce. “Mmmm, this is good.”

  “Made it myself — no help!”

  “Are you sure?” Kate looked at him skeptically. “Rachel didn’t even help you get it started?”

  “Nope.” Adam shook his head. “There are some things I can do myself.”

  “I know. You’re always taking on too much. You make me feel guilty with all you do.”

  “Hey, it could have been either one of us, right? For better or worse? You’d do the same for me.”

  “You know I would.”

&nbs
p; “And it’ll be easier now that Rachel can add some hours. That’s a load off, huh?”

  It was. On both of them. As Chief Information Officer at Tektel, Adam was on the fast track through the “silicon forest.” Even so, every perk brought a trade-off. Yes, you could take off in the middle of the day if it was an emergency. But how would it look to his staff if he kept having emergencies? Hal, the CEO, had been nothing but understanding about the clusterfuck of details Adam had to deal with when Kate had collapsed, and had given short-term family leave willingly. But now that Kate was back from the rehab hospital, Emma had a nanny, and the rest of the arrangements were in place, it went without saying that there had better be no more holes in the safety net.

  Adam hoped not. Rachel was weird, that was for sure, but ultimately — in the month they’d used her so far — she’d proven to be completely reliable. Forget the jet-black dyed hair, the Goth-girl makeup, the nose ring, and the tattoos she didn’t try very hard to hide under her slim-fitting black tank tops. Rachel was so damned good with Emma that they’d looked past all that. They’d even defended her when friends asked, “Are you sure you can trust her?” Adam knew what they meant. Rachel was blunt to the point of rudeness when dealing with adults. But he also knew that just a few of those well-meaning questions were based on concern about the full lips, translucent skin, and hard-bodied figure that lay beneath the Goth-girl facade. That was an easy one. Kate was and always would be the only woman in his life.

  But trust Rachel with Emma? Like he’d trust the protective instinct of a German Shepherd.

  “Emma’s got a bald spot and a scar just above her hairline over her right ear. What’s up with that?” Rachel had asked on her second day of work.

  “She had an accident when she was a baby,” Adam had answered.

  Rachel just stared at Adam and then Kate.

  “She fell off the changing table,” Kate said.

  “Who was changing her? You?”

  Kate had flushed red, but Adam knew it would be okay. They had talked about this very issue before they decided to hire Rachel and both had vowed to live with it. Rachel didn’t mean any harm. She was just clueless.

  “No,” Kate had replied. “Actually, it was Adam. That was two years ago, just after we’d moved here. I could walk back then, but I couldn’t stand up and use my hands at the same time because of the canes. I always changed her on the floor. Adam used the changing table.”

  Rachel was silent.

  “I just looked away for a second.” Adam didn’t have to justify himself to the nanny, but maybe he was still trying to justify something to himself. Or to Kate. “I thought I heard Kate fall in the other room. By the time I turned back, Emma was on the floor.”

  Rachel continued her silence.

  Kate took over the narrative. “We called the ambulance and it turned out all right. It’s nothing for you to worry about, okay? She had some swelling and then she had to have an operation to relieve the pressure. Of course we were worried, but there wasn’t any permanent damage. We did all the tests. More than enough tests. She’s fine now.”

  “Bet you’re glad.” Rachel had turned back to Adam.

  “Of course, Rachel. We’re all glad. But it’s nothing for you to worry about. We know about the bald spot and the scar.”

  “Okay, just so you know,” Rachel said. “Nothing like that will ever happen when Emma’s with me.”

  “That’s great,” Kate said.

  Adam and Kate shared a telepathic glance across the room.

  What is this girl’s problem?

  Kate put down her fork.

  “Was that Emma? Did you hear something?” The sun was down, but Adam could still see Kate’s face by the candlelight.

  “It’s 8:30. I put her down half an hour ago. She should be asleep.”

  Kate struggled in her seat and the sweater fell on the deck.

  Adam bent down to pick it up and replaced it on her lap. “I’ll go check on her.”

  As Adam walked across the living room, he heard feet scuffling on the front porch. Just as he looked through the peephole, the doorbell rang. Now what?

  “Hello?” Adam said. “May I help you?” He flipped on the porch light and saw a small, dark-haired woman accompanied by two burly cops through the screen.

  “Are you Adam Grammaticus?” the woman said, holding up an ID badge. “My name is Lisa Castro and I’m from Multnomah County, Child Protective Services. We’re following up on a complaint we received from Ms.Rachel Norwood. She says she used to work for you?”

  “She still does,” Adam said. “What in the world is this about?”

  “Are your wife and daughter home? Do you think we might come in?”

  Adam looked back toward the deck and saw Kate struggling to put on her sweater.

  Chapter 2

  Adam settled Kate into her wheelchair in the living room, as the social worker and cops pretended not to watch. It was galling to have them standing there, and Adam was anxious to get this conversation started — and ended — as soon as possible. He couldn’t just leave Kate on the deck, and he’d be damned if he’d invite them out to their private retreat. The sun was down, and the food was ruined.

  Let’s get this conversation over with.

  “We’re sorry to have intruded on your dinner, Mr.and Mrs.Grammaticus. It’s protocol not to announce our visits,” the social worker said.

  “Is it protocol to bring the police with you, too?” Adam asked. He looked back and forth between the cops: one black, one white, both built like offensive linemen and seeming content to remain silent.

  “It’s at our discretion. Is your daughter home?”

  “She’s sleeping,” Kate said. “In her bedroom. Where else would she be? Can you just tell us what this is about?”

  The trio sat on the couch and Adam took a chair near his wife. She gave him a horrified look and Adam shook his head. A wave of panic passed over him as Castro began to speak.

  “We received a report of parental abuse concerning your daughter Emma from Rachel Norwood, whom I understand is her nanny.”

  “What?” Adam said. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. Rachel has only been with us for a month. She’s mistaken.”

  The social worker looked back and forth between Adam and Kate. “The report was pretty specific. I’m prepared to go into detail about the allegations, but tonight is just the first visit. There are a lot of steps from here. I’ll need to see Emma tonight. Then there will be a few more random visits. If necessary, things will proceed to an inquiry before a judge and, if warranted, removal of the child from the home.”

  “You must be kidding,” Kate said. “What in the world did Rachel say?”

  “I know what this is about,” Adam said. “You can check the hospital records. Emma fell two years ago. We had a follow-up with a social worker when we left Doernbecher Hospital, but it was nothing. It was an accident. When Rachel saw Emma’s scar, she had a lot of questions.” Adam was breathing hard and fighting a familiar pull of desperation. Cops. Sirens. He was a boy again with Tugg, peeking out from under the slides.

  “This isn’t about a scar, Mr.Grammaticus,” Castro said. She looked down at the file folder on her lap and flipped a couple of papers. “When did you say Emma had this accident?”

  Kate waved her hands spastically in front of her face. “What did Rachel say we did?”

  “Okay, let me read from the report. Ms.Norwood said that last week when she was playing with Emma, she spontaneously said, ‘Daddy hurt me with a sharp tool.’ Does that sound familiar to you, Mr.Grammaticus? Can you tell us what Emma might have been referring to?”

  Adam’s limbs went dead. “A sharp tool? What sharp tool? I never did anything like that to Emma in my whole life. Are you sure that’s what she said?”

  The police officers were staring at him.

  Castro nodded. “Yes, that’s a verbatim quote from the report. Apparently after this Ms.Norwood continued to play with Emma, to se
e if she would say anything else. Good instinct. According to Ms.Norwood, Emma was quite consistent in her story. She used the word ‘sharp tool’ more than once.”

  “That sounds like something somebody told her to say,” Kate said.

  “That’s possible,” Castro replied. “That’s why we need to interview Emma tonight to make our own assessment. I know she’s sleeping, but it’s absolutely necessary that we speak to her before anyone else does. Can we see her?”

  “Sharp tool,” Adam said, leaning forward. “What the hell. Rachel’s claiming that I attacked my daughter with a knife or something?”

  The white cop leaned forward.

  “We don’t know what happened,” Castro said. “Emma’s description covers a lot of possible ground. May I ask who normally cuts her nails?”

  “I do,” Adam said.

  “And combs her hair?”

  “I do,” Adam said.

  “I have multiple sclerosis,” Kate said. “Adam has to do all of the childcare these days. I just can’t.”

  “For how long?” Castro said.

  “The last two months.”

  Castro checked her notes again. “Ms.Norwood felt that the abuse was recent. Within the last few weeks or so. And Emma specifically identified Mr.Grammaticus.”

  Adam stood. “Rachel is a fucking liar.”

  “Please sit down, sir,” said the black cop.

  “I’ll be goddamned if I’ll sit.” Adam glared at Castro, but kept his hands carefully at his sides. “Have you taken a good look at your witness? Does she look reliable to you? Now look at us. I’ve got a good job. We live in Lake Oswego, for Christ’s sake. How many social service calls do you get from this zip code?” Adam was breathing hard. He knew that he was out of line, but he stood absolutely still and kept glaring at Castro.

  “Abuse doesn’t happen only in poor families, Mr.Grammaticus,” Castro said. “But as I said, this is just the first visit. There’s a lot we don’t know yet. I think we’re done talking for now. Can I please see Emma?”

  Angry tears started to course down Kate’s cheeks. “Do you think a good mother would allow you to wake her daughter and ask all these ugly questions in the middle of the night? Do you have to do this right now?”