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Here and Now

Page 12

by Constance O'Day-Flannery


  Walking toward the door, it was as though his conscience spoke to him, and he recalled he’d heard it said before: Only heaven knows what the future will bring. He nearly laughed out loud at the irony. If the person who said that only knew, he mused.

  But Suzanne’s question still nagged at him. Was he unhappy? He reached for the knob and twisted it. As he pulled the door open, sunshine washed warmly over him and illuminated the entire room.

  Looking out into the bright day he realized he didn’t know where his happiness lay—was it in a past that was fading from his memory? Or was it in a future which was his present reality? He turned back to the stairs and cast his gaze to the second floor landing.

  “Oh, how lovely!” Suzanne remarked as she stood at the top, ready to descend. She was staring out into the sunlit day.

  “Yes,” he answered softly, seeing her wearing a short yellow dress and white sweater. Her face almost seemed to beam, radiating happiness. “Yes,” he repeated. “Quite lovely.” Heaven help him… he wasn’t just referring to the day.

  “C’mon,” she urged, almost giggling at the expression of awe on his face. She was carrying Matty in his infant seat—thank goodness he was sleeping soundly—and they’d just entered Blockbuster. Charlie was standing with his mouth open, staring at the rows upon rows of videos, the laser light display in the corner and the monitors showing the latest hi-tech sci-fi adventure available for renting. She figured it was an assault on the senses after all, and tugged on his shirtsleeve. “It’s okay, Charlie,” she whispered. “Let’s go to the desk and ask for some help.”

  “Suzanne, this is…” he didn’t finish his sentence.

  “I know,” she answered reassuringly. “C’mon.”

  After giving the clerk her list of rentals, they waited for a few minutes as the efficient young man came back to the desk with a stack of seven videos. “We’re going to have a video marathon.” She felt pretty good about herself and her idea of an outing. It wasn’t much, but she was dressed, had pulled her short hair back with a headband, and was wearing makeup for the first time in almost a week.

  “You’ll have five days to view these,” the man said, placing their choices on the counter. “Lucky they were all in.”

  “Yes,” Charlie murmured. “Lucky.” Turning, he asked her, “We’re going to see all of these in five days? The Great Gatsby, For Whom the Bell Tolls, The Way We Were, The Guns of Navarone, Bridge Over the River Kwa—”

  “Kwai,” she offered. “American Graffiti and Coming Home. And, yes, we’re going to see all these in five days. Heck, we haven’t even touched on JFK, Nixon, the Beatles, Woodstock, MTV, the space shuttle… wow, Charlie, you really do have a lot to assimilate.” Seeing that he was overwhelmed, she grinned and spoke more softly. “Look, we’ll start slow with these movies and work our way up to the present. And when we go next door to the grocery store, we can stock up on all sorts of goodies and just veg out for the next five days. We’ll shut out the world and have our own little holiday.”

  “Shut out the world,” he repeated, as a group of teenagers came into the store with spiked hair and piercings in their eyebrows, nostrils, and tongues. “Sounds grand,” he muttered as he blinked in disbelief.

  Handing Matty’s seat to Charlie, she couldn’t help laughing, knowing how strange those kids must seem to him. Heck, they made her feel old, since the only thing pierced on her body was her ears. She handed the clerk her video card and her bank card, while smiling with anticipation. Spending the next five days ensconced with Charles Garrity seemed downright decadent. Maybe it was time to pamper herself a bit and—

  “I’m sorry, ma’am, your card’s been declined.”

  Startled, she stared at the man. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Your card. It’s been declined.”

  “But that’s impossible,” she stated, knowing that last week there had been over two thousand dollars in the checking account.

  “That’s what it says,” the young man announced, glancing once more to his monitor.

  “Try it again, please,” Suzanne insisted.

  She waited as he ran her card through the machine. She could feel her cheeks begin to heat up with annoyance. Really. She’d never had her card declined before. Maybe it was a problem with the magnetic strip or—

  “I’m sorry, it’s been declined again. Do you have another form of payment?”

  Annoyance immediately turned into embarrassment. “I… I don’t know what’s wrong,” she stammered.

  “Maybe you should call your bank.”

  “Yes, I will,” she said, fumbling in her wallet for her regular Visa card. “Can you try this one?”

  The man took her card and she held her breath while she waited for the response. When she heard the machine processing and a receipt being printed, she released her breath and wanted to cry with relief. What in the world could have happened to her bank card? Figuring she’d call her bank as soon as she got home, Suzanne signed the receipt and picked up the two bags. “Sorry for that,” she murmured, as they stood outside.

  “What are you sorry for?” he asked, still holding the infant seat and instinctively pulling the white blanket around Matty’s head.

  For just a moment Suzanne was very still as she watched the action. It was obvious to her that Charlie was becoming attached to her son, and she couldn’t deny that it pleased her.

  “Suzanne?”

  She blinked and looked up at him. Did he also have to be so handsome?

  “What are you sorry for?”

  “Oh, for what took place inside,” she answered, nodding toward the video store. “I can’t imagine what happened with my card.”

  “What is that card? Why don’t you use money? Currency.”

  “We use money,” she said, leading him toward the entrance to the supermarket. “We also use what’s called credit cards. The one I was trying to use was a bank card, drawn directly out of my checking account. I don’t know what could have happened…” Her words trailed off as a bizarre thought entered her mind. How she wished she hadn’t left her cell phone on the night table by her bed. “I’m going to call my bank when we get inside the grocery store. Just to make sure.”

  She got a cart and positioned Matty’s seat in the front, then pushed him toward the entrance, grateful he was sleeping like an angel.

  “I’ll never get used to that,” Charlie said, staring as the automatic doors opened. “They had these at the hospital too.”

  Grinning, in spite of the turmoil racing through her head, Suzanne pointed to the top of the door. “Look, there’s a sensor, that little box up there. When it senses motion, the doors open.”

  “Remarkable.”

  “Uh-huh, now let’s find a telephone.” She started toward the service desk to ask for directions when she realized Charlie wasn’t beside her any longer. Stopping, she turned around and almost burst into laughter.

  He was standing with his arms hanging at his sides. His mouth was open and his jaw had dropped in what appeared to be shock. She steered the cart back to him.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I… I have never seen so much food in one place in my entire life!”

  She did laugh. “Welcome to the twenty-first century, Mr. Garrity, home of the mega superstores,” she said while waving her arms out to the well stocked aisles of fresh produce and canned goods.

  “Such an abundance, Suzanne!” he whispered, obviously still in shock.

  “Yes, it is, isn’t it?”

  “How far do people come to shop at such a place?”

  “How far?” Shrugging, she said, “I don’t know, maybe five or ten miles. There’s one, sometimes two or three of these in almost every town in the country, Charlie.”

  “No!”

  “Yes, there is.”

  “America must surely be the richest country in the world now!”

  Nodding, she murmured, “I suppose we are.” And then she looked, really looked around… not like every other week
, when she came to the store and took it all for granted. There really was such an abundance and she experienced a moment of guilt. She’d been taking it for granted that the shelves were always fully stocked and healthy vegetables were precisely stacked. She knew there were countries around the world where such a sight would surely be regarded as manna from heaven. “Yes, we are fortunate,” she concluded, then forced her mind back to her situation. “I have to find the telephone.”

  She was directed to the front of the store and spied two pay phones attached to the wall. “All right,” she whispered to her sleeping baby while picking up the receiver. “Let’s get this all settled.” She took out her wallet and flipped to the customer service number of her bank. Punching in the numbers, she smiled at an elderly woman who stopped to coo over Matty.

  “Yes, hello, this is Suzanne McDermott. I believe there’s a problem with my bank card. I just tried to use it and it was denied. The account number? Yes, of course,” she responded, then read off the required information. As she was put on hold, she waited and mouthed a “thank you” to the sweet grandmotherly woman who pronounced Matty as “absolutely precious” before walking away. It was actually nice to be a mother now, like she was part of a group. She had labored to bring this precious child into the world and was now regarded as paying her dues and— All thoughts of being initiated into the sacred circle of motherhood vanished as the bank clerk came back on the line.

  “Would you please repeat that?” she asked as a cold feeling of dread washed over her.

  She heard the woman once more declare that the account balance was practically nil. “There must be a mistake. How can there only be ten dollars left? When was the money withdrawn?”

  She found out that the checking account had been wiped out the day before. “Would you check our 401K please?” Stay calm, she told herself. Do not panic… yet! “No, I don’t know the account number. I’m in a grocery store,” she nearly yelled, causing Matty to jerk in fright and begin squalling with annoyance at being awakened so rudely.

  She tried to pat his leg to quiet him, but it wasn’t working. Slowly, she looked up to see several women, checkers and customers, staring at her with with disgusted expressions, as though she had no business at all being a mother. Shame mixed with her own terror and she took a deep breath. “Fine. Thank you. I’ll call back later,” she muttered, and hung up the phone.

  She attempted to recapture a shred of dignity as she nearly raced back to find Charlie. Where had he gone? He wasn’t where she’d left him. Desperate, she scanned the store all the while trying to placate her son, who seemed to be having a royal fit as he yelled and kicked the blanket that bound his legs. “Please, Matty… work with me here,” she pleaded, determined to save some sanity.

  And then she spied him, in the bakery department, standing in front of the shelves of doughnuts. Shaking her head, she pushed the cart in that direction, and the closer she got the more she could see that he wasn’t alone. It appeared he was in heated conversation with a worker who was clad in a white coat.

  “Save me,” she muttered, blowing a strand of hair away from her eyes that had escaped the headband. It was like she had two children! What kind of trouble was he in now? Even before she reached him, Charlie turned around. It must be the piercing siren of her son’s vocal chords that tipped him off they were approaching.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked and then saw a dusting of confectioner’s sugar around his upper lip.

  “Well, I ate a crea—”

  “He can’t eat the doughnuts without paying for them first,” the man pronounced with almost a snarl as he interrupted Charlie’s explanation. He obviously worked in the bakery and was now acting as though he’d just caught D. B. Cooper.

  “I said I have money and I’ll pay for them,” Charlie proclaimed, while shaking his head and giving Suzanne a look of embarrassment. “I will handle this,” he insisted.

  Seeing how they were attracting a good deal of attention with Matty’s shrill, insistent cries and the baker’s indignation, Suzanne took another deep breath. Right, as though anything was going to help now. “Look,” she said in a voice loud enough to be heard above the din, “I will pay—”

  “But your husband has to know you can’t just walk up and eat these without paying first,” the man interrupted in a still angry voice. “I should call security!”

  “He’s not my husband and I said I will pay for the damn doughnut, all right?” It was only a doughnut, after all, yet she would later remember it as being the proverbial straw that broke her once strong back. “As a matter of fact,” she declared in a huff, leaving her crying baby and walking past the man to the shelves of doughnuts, “I think I’ll pay for a whole damn dozen of ’em!” Grabbing up waxy white paper bag, she picked up tongs and threw open the clear plastic doors.

  “Let’s see…” she muttered, gazing over the array of goodies. “You liked the cream, right, Charlie?”

  “Suzanne. I said I will handle this.”

  She almost laughed. She didn’t even like doughnuts, but she sure as hell wasn’t stopping now. In fact, she felt like she was on a mission for these doughnuts. Plucking two cream doughnuts off the shelf, she plopped them into the bag. “Okay, what’s next? Oh, how about glazed? Apple cinnamon? Crullers. They’ll be good for breakfast. And blueberry muffins for the next morning. Technically, they’re not doughnuts, but at least it’s something I can eat and by damn, Charlie, we’re gonna have one hell of a marathon, aren’t we?”

  A part of her realized that she was on the verge of losing it, and yet a stronger part was thrilled that for once in her life she was actually standing up for something, not taking the safe, polite way out. And it felt good. It felt real good.

  “Here,” she said, thrusting the filled bag toward the baker. “I believe there are eleven in there. Add the one already eaten and charge me for a dozen.”

  She walked back to Matty and unbuckled him from his seat. Pulling him up into her arms, she glanced around to those who had stopped to gawk and said, “There’s really nothing left to see, folks. I’m finished.” She didn’t care that some looked at her with rolled eyes or clucked their oh-so superior tongues. How many of them had just bailed out a time traveler and had their checking account nearly closed?

  Feeling righteous, Suzanne accepted the marked bag from the baker and said “thank you” before looking at Charlie and motioning with her head for him to follow her. She rocked Matty against her chest and cooed to him, yet she knew nothing was going to satisfy him except her breast. Realizing she had little time, she asked Charlie to push the cart as they walked away.

  “Why did you make that scene?” he demanded, following her down the aisle. “Didn’t you hear me? I said I would handle it.”

  Evidently he was peeved, but his annoyance was no match for the indignation that was bubbling inside of her. Wait until she got her hands on Kevin! “Look, Kev—” she began, stopping herself before saying the entire name out of confrontational habit. Taking a deep, calming breath while slowing her pace to walk beside him, she continued. “Charlie, it was easier for me to—”

  “You didn’t make anything easier,” he interrupted, then lowered his voice. “You made a spectacle of yourself and embarrassed me and that poor fellow back there.” Stopping the cart, he turned and looked directly into her eyes. “I may not understand everything in this day and age, but I’m certain that treating people with a bit of respect hasn’t changed. I can do that. Remember, I’m not a child, Suzanne. I could have worked it out. And I wouldn’t have made a scene, I can tell you that.”

  “There already was a scene when I arrived.”

  “I was trying to reason with the man when you came up. Men use reason to settle differences, not hysterics. Please don’t ever do that again.”

  She took a deep breath, feeling thoroughly admonished. She had treated him like a child. Hearing his words made her realize she had flown off the handle and an apology was due. “I’m very sorry, Charlie.” Now
she was embarrassed. Looking back in the direction of the baker, she wondered if she should go and apologize to him too, but he was no longer in sight.

  “Apology accepted. Let’s drop it.”

  Hearing the clipped tone of Charlie’s voice, she turned her gaze back to him and she knew the blush on her cheeks was quite evident. Damn, she hated how her hormones were betraying her usual self-control. Yeah, sure. When was the last time she had any control?

  “Are you all right, Suzanne?” he suddenly asked with a concerned expression. “Is it that postpartum thing again?”

  Pulling her shoulders up straighter at the very mention of postpartum blues, she set her jaw and replied, “No, it is not.” She didn’t have time to explain that her bastard of a husband was at the root of the entire mess. “It’s a lot of things, but let’s not discuss it right now. Help me fill this cart with food. And we have to do it in record time.”

  “But we have food,” he protested as she threw two loaves of bread into the cart.

  “Right, we have it now, but I don’t know how long we’ll continue to have it without any money to pay for it, so we’re going to stock up on everything. I’m going to use this credit card while it still works, and most importantly, we’re going to buy a pacifier!”

  Okay, so she’d never win the Mother of the Year award.

  At the moment, all she cared about was getting out of the grocery store with enough food to last until she figured out her next move. Well, not her next move. She knew that one. Her body almost tingled with a powerful energy when she thought of confronting Kevin at Ingrid’s. All right, so the tingling might just be her breasts leaking again. But she was going to have it out with Kevin McDermott and find out just what the hell he thought he was doing.

  First things first. A pacifier. Food. Feed Matty in the car and then track down that sonofabitch husband of hers and let him have it. What kind of man would do that? Especially with an infant at home? She almost laughed. The same man who cheated on her and then left her while she was pregnant. She felt as if someone had rung a bell in her head and her brain was still reverberating from the shock. It was almost as though she was waking up from a hazy dream.

 

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