by Sally John
“Lia, how about if I stick around until morning?”
“You don’t have to. I’m not going to sleep anyway.” Her voice was lower than normal, but had lost all trace of assertiveness.
“I’d feel better if I stayed.”
She nodded. “All right. Do you want the couch?”
“No, I’ll just sit here in the chair.” He sat down and raised the footrest. “Why don’t you go to bed?”
She shook her head.
As his eyelids grew heavy, he watched her staring at nothing in particular, obviously shaken to the core.
“I’m here, Miss Impressively Independent. No need to worry.” He drifted off to sleep.
Fourteen
Tony sat at Izzy’s kitchen table, drinking coffee and reading the Sunday Trib, a surprising find at the Valley Oaks gas station. A loud banging on the back door startled him. Through the yellow eyelet curtain that covered the door’s window he could see a hulking outline. Uh-oh. Maybe Izzy did have a boyfriend. Worse yet, maybe this was one of her brothers.
Tony opened the door and the deputy sheriff quickly strode inside. Sidestepping quickly before getting stepped on, Tony said, “Good morning! It’s Cal, right?”
The big guy didn’t pause in his wordless lope across the kitchen.
“Cal, how about some coffee?”
“No.” Cal halted at the threshold leading into the living room and hall. “Mendoza!” he yelled.
“What?” Isabel’s distant voice drifted through the small house.
“Can you take Lia’s kid to church?”
The cop looked as though he needed coffee. He resembled Smokey the Bear without the hat and smile. His eyes were puffy. His plaid shirt and khakis were slightly more rumpled than they had been last night at the Olafsson farm and damp from the fine mist falling this morning. A bristly shadow covered the square jaw. Tony poured a cup and stuck it in his massive hand.
“Thanks.”
Isabel came into the kitchen, wearing a silky cream-colored blouse beneath a deep brown skirt and cardigan, carrying a pair of heels. “Cal? What’s wrong?”
“Somebody broke the alley window at Lia’s and harassed her half the night ringing the doorbell. She’s skipping church this morning—”
“Is she all right?”
“She’s shook up. Cut her foot on the broken glass. Nothing serious. Mostly just exhausted. She asked me to take Chloe to church, and I thought— Well, do you mind?”
“Chicken.” Isabel brushed past him and took Tony’s mug from his hand. “Kids give him the willies.”
Totally understandable, Tony thought as he retrieved a bag of coffee beans from the freezer.
Cal asked, “So can you do it?”
She sat at the table and drank from Tony’s cup. “Of course. I’ll call—”
“She’s in my truck.”
Isabel jumped up and pushed his shoulder. “Cal! Go get her! How could you leave that little girl out there?”
“She slept through the whole thing last night. She’s fine.”
She practically shoved him out the door. “Men! First you show up,” she shot a glare at Tony, “because you can’t go to church by yourself—”
“I didn’t know what time—”
“Yeah, right. And Cal can’t even take care of a child for half an hour.” She sat back down and strapped on her shoes. “Oh, poor Lia.”
“Do you have much vandalism in town?” Nice change of subject.
“No. Everybody knows everybody. Some kid will brag about this and sooner or later a mom will get wind of it and tell Cal. Kind of takes the fun out of it. You’re making more coffee?”
“Pot’s empty.”
“I don’t want more than this cup—”
“Yeah, well, that cup was mine.” He paused, his hand holding the carafe midair. Something passed between them, a recognition that they’d been here before…
The back door opened. “Chloe!” Isabel hurried toward the little girl entering the kitchen. She embraced her and then helped her out of a red raincoat. “Want some breakfast?”
Chloe big blue eyes were wide. “Do you have any more of those chocolate chip cookies?”
Isabel laughed. “How about a scrambled egg with them?”
“Okay.” She slid into a chair.
“Cal, come in and sit down. You look awful. Have some breakfast.”
Tony opened the fridge and pulled out a carton of eggs. “Boy, am I glad you two came along. No one offered me any breakfast. Hey, Iz, I’ll make my famous frittata. Remember?” He saw the look on her face. It was an almost imperceptible widening of the pupils of her eyes, a momentary dread washing through her. Overt references to the past disturbed her. He stuck his head back into the refrigerator. “Got any peppers and onions?”
“Little girls don’t like peppers and onions.”
“I do,” Chloe piped in. “Aunt Lia always cooks with peppers and onions.”
Cal said, “I do, too, but I’ve got to go home. Thanks anyway.”
Isabel reached around Tony and took out a jug of orange juice. “Huntington, were you up all night?”
“Well, yeah. Lia got me on the cell coming home from Tam—uh, Twin Prairie. I helped her clean up the place and nailed some cardboard over the window. I’ll get some boards and seal it up better this afternoon.”
“Think it’s kids?”
“Yeah.”
“You,” Chloe’s chin quivered, “you told Aunt Lia you’d take me to church.”
“Well, Isabel said she’ll take you. I don’t know where the Sunday school is. And besides, I gotta go get ready.”
Isabel patted Chloe’s head and set a glass of juice before her, scowling at Cal. “We’ll see Cal at church, hon. I think he’d better go comb his hair. Not that he’s got much to comb. What do you think? Hey, maybe you can spend the afternoon at Mandy’s.”
Cal caught Tony’s eye while Isabel chattered away at Chloe.
He raised a spatula in parting and smiled.
The big guy looked miserable as he shut the door.
Isabel said, “Tony, you don’t have to cook. I’ll do it.”
“I like to cook. Remember?” He winked.
Her shoulders slumped, giving her an abject demeanor that surpassed Cal’s. So much for joyful Christians.
Isabel pushed Lia’s doorbell as she eyed the boarded up window. It resembled how she had felt with Tony in tow all day: broken and hurting inside, but not showing it, keeping stiff boards nailed up all around her true feelings.
Her true feelings had been nagging at her since last night. Why was it she could still feel anger toward Tony as well as that old tickle of affection? Why was it that little things like inadvertently taking his coffee mug unnerved her?
What a perfectly dreary day! Nonstop rain, Tony at her elbow, Lia’s close encounter with small-town prejudice. She shivered.
Tony pulled her close beneath the umbrella he held above them. “Cold?”
“It’s freezing.”
“Feels more like November than late September and only the second day of fall, huh?” He peered over his shoulder. “Is that the cop’s truck?”
She looked over his shoulder at the small lot behind the grocery store. “Looks like it.”
“Something going on between him and the pharmacist?”
“No. You heard him mention Twin Prairie this morning. Tammy Cassidy lives there. Dot’s daughter.”
“Ahh.”
She felt as if she’d said too much. “Tony, you don’t have to stay.”
“We already talked about this. Hanging with you is my assignment. Brady gets a turn tomorrow.”
“This is kind of personal. A girl thing.”
“Unless Huntington is here.”
The door opened and Lia stood there, long hair loose about her shoulders, a grateful smile lighting her face. “Come in!”
Isabel hugged her. “Lia, I am so sorry.”
“Thank you, but I’m fine now. A little sleep works wo
nders. Hi, Tony. Let me take your coats. I’ll hang them here.” Coat hooks lined the wall beside the door, near the washer and dryer. “Come on upstairs.”
“Lia, you’re wearing blue jeans! I don’t think I’ve seen you in anything but skirts.”
“Shh, don’t tell my mother. She’d have a cow.”
Isabel smiled. Somehow, even in jeans and a baggy red cable-knit sweater, her friend was still the essence of femininity.
They entered the cozy apartment. Cal sat in the recliner in the living room area, facing a small television.
Tony strode across the kitchen and plopped onto the couch. “Bears playing?”
Cal grunted in the affirmative.
Lia’s raised brows mirrored her own. They smiled. “Tea?” Lia asked.
“Thanks.” Isabel sat at the table. “Tell me what happened last night. Cal didn’t give out any details.”
“Oh, it wasn’t anything. Just kids. They rang the doorbell, I turned on the light, and they took off. Then they did it again, and I shouted through the window. Does Tony drink tea?”
“Yes.” Doesn’t he?
She set before her a porcelain cup and saucer painted with tiny flowers. “Then, about three o’clock I heard the window break. I called 911, but they didn’t show up right away, so I got Cal on his cell. He arrived first. That’s about it.”
“Do you think it’s related to the phone calls?”
“Probably.” She emptied the coffee carafe into one mug, filled another with tea, carried them to the men, and then joined Isabel at the table.
“Lia, did Cal tell you about my experience?”
She shook her head. Dark circles were like smudges under her eyes.
“Nothing like this. Just a general attitude of ‘you don’t belong.’ Snide looks in the grocery store. One note that told me to go back to Mexico. When I was living in an apartment, a bag of cow patties was left outside my door.”
“Eww. Gross.”
“Tell me about it. Since I moved next door to Cal, though, no problems. Something about having a cop for a neighbor, I guess. Of course, I don’t interact too much with people outside the church. Not like you with a business.”
“I thought things were going all right. Customers responded well when I lowered prices and added the gift section. But…” Tears swam in her eyes.
Isabel squeezed her hand. “But what, Lia?”
“I’m sorry. I guess the rough night is catching up with me.”
“We shouldn’t have come.”
“No, no. I need your company right now. Last week I heard from the big prescription drug group that covers Agstar employees.”
“Like half the town?”
“Exactly. The group is removing independents like myself from their approved list.”
“Oh, Lia.”
“I can’t make it without them. And who’s going to shop here and pay $30 for a prescription when they can drive into Rockville and pay five?”
The implications were staggering. Isabel didn’t know what to say. “Besides threatening your business, think about the incredible inconvenience for all those families.”
“Well, $25 is $25. That covers a lot of inconvenience. Between you and me, I suspect the Bentleys knew this was coming.” The tears spilled over now.
“Oh, Lia,” she said again and scooted her chair closer. She wrapped her arms around her.
Cal’s voice boomed across the room, “Everything okay?”
They nodded. Isabel winked and whispered, “That’s his cop voice.”
Lia said, “I think he’s getting hungry. We thought we’d order pizza. Will you stay?”
“Sure. Sounds great. Where’s Chloe?”
“Anne invited her to spend the night.” She shrugged. “Even though it’s a school night, you gotta break some rules now and then. So?”
“So? What?”
She shifted her eyes toward the guys.
“Huh?”
Lia whispered, “Tony.”
“Praying for him.” She knew the words were flippant because they left a hollowness in their wake.
Lia tilted her head, studying Isabel’s face for a long, silent moment. “And is anyone praying for you?”
Fifteen
Lia thought it was an awkward gathering of dinner guests around her kitchen table. Isabel shot thinly concealed scowls in Cal’s direction and avoided eye contact with Tony. Cal’s face had settled into a rough frown when it became evident the Bears were losing. The look suited his sheriff’s uniform, not the soft fleecy gray sweatshirt he wore. Tony was quiet, a totally opposite demeanor from the other times she had seen him.
Cal had arrived early that afternoon, boards, nails, and hammer in hand, intent on sealing the window ahead of the predicted rainstorm. He learned Chloe wasn’t home, probably sensed Lia’s tentative manner, and promptly invited himself to watch the game on her television, saying, “How about if I keep an eye on things here during the game?” Isabel and Tony had popped in unannounced. Lia didn’t feel like playing hostess, but she was grateful for the company.
It was the anchovies that finally broke the ice.
Cal helped himself to a piece of pizza that was unofficially designated as Isabel and Tony’s pizza. Lia and Cal were sharing one with different toppings.
Isabel reached over and scooped the slice right off of his plate. “You said you wanted meat and no anchovies. Eat your own pizza.”
Everyone stared at her.
Cal deliberately transferred the piece back to his own plate. “Changed my mind.”
“You can’t. There won’t be enough.”
“You and Tony are going to eat an entire large pizza?”
“Yes. What of it?”
Tony rearranged the pizzas, sliding the anchovy-laden one toward Cal. “Izzy, he’s bigger than I am, and he carries a gun. He can eat whatever he wants.”
“Oh, Tony, he’s about as tough as Nutmeg and Soot.”
“Mendoza,” Cal growled, “you’ve never taken pizza from me before.”
She grabbed the piece back. “And you’ve never taken it from me either.”
Tony rearranged the pizzas again. “Cal, she’s got a point. I tried it once. Wet hen comes to mind.”
Cal smiled. “I can see that.”
“Yelling in Spanish.”
Cal chuckled. “Yeah, I heard her do that once, all the way from inside my house. She was mad at a recipe.”
Tony was grinning now. “Let’s hope she doesn’t get mad on the air!”
Isabel swallowed a bite. “Oh, like you guys are perfect. I saw Cal throw a lawn mower once, halfway across his yard. And you, Tony. I seem to remember you swearing at newspapers and magazines. I certainly hope you don’t do that anymore.”
“Hey,” he protested, “I don’t have to be perfect. You three are the Christians.”
Lia exchanged glances with Cal and Isabel and then smiled. “Tony, do you really believe that?”
“Christians are always passing judgment on others, as if they don’t lie and cheat, etcetera, etcetera. They’re perfect. Supposedly.”
“Have you personally spent much time with Christians?”
He shrugged. “Izzy and Brady.”
“And is that what they do?”
He appeared unfocused, as if he were lost in thought for a moment. “Brady seems to go out of his way not to be condescending.” His eyes flickered toward Cal. “I wonder if it’s a show for my benefit.”
Cal shifted in his chair. “It’s not.”
“But then, you’re his best friend.” Tony’s smile softened the words. “I’m just trying to be honest. I’m here because Izzy challenged me to watch Christianity up close.”
Isabel touched his arm. “And what about me? Is my attitude judgmental?”
“No, but you’re always surrounded by people who agree with your point of view. What would you be like in a different environment? Say Chicago, for example, where most of the world is blatantly anti-Christian. Valley Oaks obviously
isn’t without its problems, but it is basically a non-threat to you.”
Isabel nodded and helped herself to more pizza, the one without anchovies. “You’re right. I…” She shrugged, a blush creeping across her face. “I’ve thought about it. I don’t know.”
“Tony,” Cal asked, “what was your sister like?”
Tony’s jaw tightened briefly. “Good work, Detective.” He took a deep breath. “Ladies, my sister was a missionary, martyred in Colombia two years ago.”
Lia’s heart went out to him. “Oh, Tony, how awful!’
Isabel squeezed his arm and whispered, “I’m so sorry.”
Cal added his sympathies.
They sat quietly for a moment. Tony said, “What, no formula explanations? Most Christians have to tell me why.”
Isabel shook her head. “There is no pat reason. It’s a terrible tragedy, and we grieve for you and your family.”
Tony bit his lip. “Thank you. Cal, to answer your question, Joanna was messed up with drugs, became a Christian, and headed overseas to save the world.” He gave them a small smile. “She always was impetuous. Okay. Back to the subject at hand. You’re saying you’re not perfect.”
Lia explained, “No, we’re not. We should be recognizable by our love, not our judgmental attitudes. Do you see love in us? A giving, caring attitude?”
“Yeah. Izzy just proved it. She’s eating a piece of the other pizza.”
They laughed.
Lia ached for Tony. She knew the unbearable hurt of losing a sister. Unlike him, though, she also knew the comfort of friends who loved her in ways that carried her through the worst of it. She prayed that Tony’s heart would be opened to that kind of love.
“I really, really hate Scrabble,” Cal announced as he and Tony dodged raindrops and jogged to his truck parked across the alley. They climbed in it and he started the engine, flipping the heat on high. “Especially with people who probably aced every English class they ever took.”
Tony laughed. “Izzy and Lia play for blood.”
“And you don’t?” Cal grinned. “Have you played with Brady yet? He’s the worst.”
