We All Fall Down (Of Love and Madness Book 2)

by Karen Cimms

  Kate’s anger started to rise. This whole invitation had been a setup. “Yes, Billy has an issue with drugs. I’ll be the first to admit that, but he’s not an addict. He can control what he does. He chooses not to.”

  “Do you really believe that? Do you really believe that he was of sound mind when he did whatever it was he did to you the night of Joey’s funeral? That it was a choice?”

  Kate stiffened. “That was different. He said he took something he hadn’t used in a long time. He didn’t do it on purpose. He would never—”

  “So you’re defending him?”

  “Of course not!”

  “Then you’re defending his right to use drugs?”

  “No, I didn’t say that either.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I don’t know.” Why was Eileen attacking her? She hadn’t done anything wrong. She was the victim. “I don’t know what I’m saying.”

  “Let’s look at more pictures, shall we?” Eileen gave her a gleaming smile, moving on as if that last flurry of words hadn’t happened.

  “I have to go.” Kate stood. “I’m tired, and I don’t want to do this anymore.”

  “Sit down.” Eileen used her best junior high teacher’s voice, then continued as if they were having a pleasant afternoon chat. “This is Marty and I on our wedding day.”

  Kate dropped back onto the couch.

  “Beautiful.” She was too damn polite, that was her problem. She should get up, and go the hell home.

  Eileen showed her more photos: coming home from the hospital with Michael, dancing cheek to cheek at Marty’s company Christmas party, standing suntanned and relaxed on the deck of a cruise ship at sunset.

  “They’re all very nice, Eileen. You and Marty had a wonderful marriage. I’m sure you miss him very much.” She meant it, even though her voice wasn’t exactly conveying much sincerity.

  “I do. And you’re right. We had a wonderful marriage, but it was far from perfect.”

  How much longer did she have to suffer through this trip down Memory Lane? Eileen had always been as sharp as a tack, but maybe she was beginning to suffer from a bit of dementia.

  “This cruise here,” Eileen tapped the last picture. “We flew to Miami and sailed to the Bahamas to celebrate Marty’s retirement. While we were there, he told me about Arlene, his secretary. They’d been having an affair for several years at that point. Since the time Michael died. Arlene had been eager to comfort him, give him an escape. When he tried to end it, she threatened to expose him. Instead of giving in, he decided to retire and come clean with me.”

  Kate’s throat went dry. She’d never seen Eileen and Marty exchange a cross word, let alone argue. He’d always been attentive and loving.

  “What did you do?”

  Eileen gave her a funny smile. “Well, I told him I thought the whole thing was a little too on the nose, and that I would have expected him to be a little more creative. I mean, seriously, his secretary?”

  Kate didn’t see the humor.

  “I also told him I’d known from the beginning, and then I forgave him.”

  “You knew?” Her mouth dropped. “You knew and you never said anything? You just let it go on?”

  Eileen nodded.

  “Why?”

  She took a deep breath. “Because we’d made a promise to one another, and just because one of us broke it didn’t mean we both had to break it. I knew he felt helpless after Michael died and probably more than a little guilty. Arlene had known him long enough to see the same things. She took advantage of his state of mind. I’m not saying it didn’t hurt, because it did. It hurt like a sonofabitch.”

  “So why didn’t you stop it then?”

  “Because I knew how much he loved me, and I knew eventually he’d come to his senses. And he did. It took longer than I expected, but I think in part that was my fault.”

  “Your fault?” Kate sputtered. “You’re not serious?”

  Eileen laughed. “It was my fault because toward the end, he was being careless. He wanted me to find out. He was feeling guilty, and he wanted me to lash out at him because he believed he deserved it. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.” She looked quite smug when she said this. “I wasn’t going to punish him. He would have to do that himself.”

  “I suppose you’re telling me this because you think I should forgive Billy for cheating?”

  “Not necessarily.”

  Exasperated, Kate slumped against the sofa cushions, the less than palatable macaroni and cheese forming a hard knot in her stomach. “You’re confusing the hell out of me.”

  Eileen chuckled. “I’m sorry, kiddo. I just wanted you to know that you’re not alone. These things happen every day, and you can come out on the other side in one piece.”

  She took Kate’s hands in her dry, papery ones and held them tightly.

  “You’re a survivor. You’ve been through a lot and you’re still standing. You’re a strong woman, sweetheart. Billy? He’s big and sometimes maybe even a little scary, but he’s weak. He’s at the bottom right now, and I don’t know if he’s strong enough to climb back out on his own. I just want you to think about that. I know you’ve had an awful lot thrown at you all at once, and none of it’s fair, God knows. But you can grab hold of the things you can control and fix what you can, if you choose to.”

  Kate tried to keep her voice steady. “I don’t think it’s that easy. He not only hurt me physically, which I never thought possible. I thought he loved me much more than that. But even with time, if it was drugs and he got help, maybe at some point I could forgive him, but this . . .” She shook her head. “I don’t think so. I try not to think about it. I keep myself busy during the day, but when I go to bed, no matter how exhausted I am, I close my eyes and there they are. I see them together, and it makes me sick to my stomach.”

  “You know who this woman is?”

  Kate nodded, wiping angrily at the tears that had begun to fall.

  “I know of one. But I’m sure if there was one, there were more.”

  “Did you ask?”

  Ask? Eileen couldn’t be serious. Billy was always surrounded by women before and after gigs. He was a good-looking man, and a talented one at that. Of course there were women throwing themselves at him every night. But she’d trusted him. God, she’d been so stupid! Just knowing that he and Christa had been intimate was more than she could handle. To know for certain there had been other women over the years as well? Safer for her to just assume he’d been consistently unfaithful and try and move on. She didn’t need or want confirmation.

  “No, and I’m not going to. Don’t you think I’ve been hurt enough?” With that, Kate stood. “I’m really beat. Thank you for dinner and for sharing some difficult stories with me. I’ll think about what you said. I promise.”

  She wrapped her arms around her friend and kissed her cool, dry cheek.

  “Do you want some macaroni and cheese to take home?”

  “I have plenty of food in the house that will go bad if I don’t eat it. It was delicious, though.”

  “Oh Kate, sweetheart,” Eileen said with a laugh. “You’re such a terrible liar.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Between getting up to speed at work, helping Devin finish packing, and driving him to school Wednesday night, Kate had plenty to keep her mind occupied. It had been good having him home, even if just for a couple of days, but now she had to face her new life. Her new normal. Just her and Charlie. She’d heard nothing from Billy, and even though she’d threatened to report him to the police if he contacted her, she hadn’t expected him to listen.

  It’s not that she wanted to talk to him or see him. She didn’t. She couldn’t, not after what he’d done to her, what he’d told her. And it wasn’t like she’d never been alone before. He was often gone for long periods of time. It’s just that this time, she was really alone. And it hurt. A lot.

  She’d driven Devin back to school after work the night before. Th
e ride was long and surprisingly quiet. She’d expected him to use the time to try and convince her to work things out with his father, but he’d apologized for being tired, slipped in his earbuds, and napped the entire way. Normally she would have scolded him for being rude, but this time she welcomed it. She tuned in to NPR and listened to Terri Gross interview an author on his new novel about a man mistakenly committed to a mental hospital. The topic was disturbing, but at least it kept her mind occupied and off her own worries.

  The two-hour trip to Williamsport passed quickly; the ride home, not so much. It was after midnight before she climbed into bed, and it seemed like mere minutes later when the alarm clock went off at five. By the time she got home that afternoon, she was dragging. If not for the meeting to cover that night, she would have gone straight to bed. She set the alarm for six and fell across her bed, hoping for at least an hour’s nap.

  When the phone rang just before seven, Kate grabbed her alarm clock, disoriented and thinking it was morning and that she’d overslept. Which was exactly what she’d done, only it wasn’t morning. When she’d set the clock, she had failed to change it to evening, rather than morning, and might have slept through the entire meeting if a telemarketer hadn’t called to try and sell her on a vacation share in the Poconos. She barely had time to comb her hair and brush her teeth before rushing out the door.

  At least nothing ever happened in Washington Township. She’d be lucky if she got anything more to write about than Sedge Stevens’s usual outburst. Even that seemed unlikely. According to Sully, although Stevens had called the newspaper after her story ran and had written a profanity-laced letter to the editor, he hadn’t shown up at the last meeting. Eight months of causing a ruckus at every meeting, and the first one she hadn’t covered, he’d been a no-show. Maybe he’d finally wised up and agreed to clean up his property.

  About a dozen cars filled the lot at the municipal building. Kate’s usual spot near the door was taken, so she eased her Saab into a spot alongside the building, grabbed her purse and her backpack, and headed inside.

  She slipped into a seat at the back of the room next to Eileen. “What’re you doing here? You didn’t tell me you were coming.”

  “I was beginning to wonder if you were,” Eileen answered, offering her cheek for Kate to kiss. “My nephew said they’re supposed to discuss that new subdivision ordinance, and if that goes through, I’m thinking of putting that piece of land up for sale in the spring.”

  Eileen’s husband’s family had once owned hundreds of acres in Washington Township. Most of the parcels had been sold off over the years, and her nephew Stan and his wife Lora were the only family members still living in the township, but Eileen had been holding out.

  “You should’ve called me. I could’ve told you what happened, or you could’ve just read tomorrow’s paper.”

  “Eh, I don’t get out enough anyway. I had dinner at Stan’s, so I was nearby. Oh, hey!” She dipped into her oversized purse and pulled out a pint jar of bread and butter pickles. “Lora sent these for you.”

  Kate loved Lora’s pickles, and she’d been after Eileen for years to get her the recipe. “Oh, thank you! I made a batch over the weekend, but mine never come out as good as hers. Any luck getting me that recipe?”

  “I’m working on it.” She gave Kate a critical once-over. “By the way, you look like crap. Are you sleeping?”

  Trust Eileen not to mince words.

  “I’m hanging in there.”

  “Tell you what. If these numbnuts don’t drag this thing out too late, I’ll buy you a cup of coffee.”

  “Thanks, but—”

  “Okay, I’ll buy you a cocktail.” Eileen winked. “You drive a hard bargain.”

  Kate gave her a weak smile. “A cocktail might be just what the doctor ordered.” She pulled out her notebook and fished around the bottom of her backpack for a pen.

  “Have you heard from Billy?” Eileen asked.

  Just hearing his name hurt. “Eileen, please.”

  “I’m just asking. Have you thought about what I said?”

  Kate set her backpack on the floor, with the jar of pickles on top of it. “I’m trying not to think about anything. And before you ask, he hasn’t contacted me, either, so he’s in no hurry to fix anything—not that what he did is fixable.”

  “Maybe he’s just doing what you asked, respecting your wishes.”

  “Respect? After what he’s done, respect is the last thing he’s given me.” This conversation might actually make her head explode. She stood. “I’ll be right back. Could you watch my stuff?”

  Eileen called her name as she left the room, but Kate kept walking. If she didn’t take a minute to calm down, she’d say something she knew she would regret. Thinking about Billy upset her, and Eileen knew it. Why did she keep pushing?

  Kate paced the long hall leading to the secretary’s office and a conference room, then darted into the ladies room, where she wet a paper towel and pressed it to the back of her neck and forehead. After a few cleansing breaths, she felt her pulse tick down toward its normal level.

  Maybe she should start doing yoga. Rhiannon swore by it.

  She tossed the paper towel into the trash and glanced at her reflection. Eileen was right. She looked like crap. Her lack of sleep was glaring under the harsh fluorescent lights. Dark moons were visible beneath her eyes. She leaned toward the mirror; although some of that might be smeared makeup from her nap.

  She was reaching for another paper towel when she heard a sharp crack. There were several more, followed by the sound of breaking glass. Someone screamed.

  Kate froze. The exit door at the end of the hall banged open. There were several more loud cracks.

  Fireworks? That made no sense. But if it wasn’t fireworks, the only other thing it could be was gunshots.

  Forcing her legs to move, Kate darted into the farthest stall and locked the door. She climbed onto the toilet, where she gathered her legs beneath her. The gunshots continued on the other side of the wall that separated her from the meeting room. There were loud, heavy thuds, shouts, and more screams. What the hell was happening?

  The motion-sensitive light in the bathroom turned off. If she stayed still, it would stay off. But her body was shaking so hard. She tucked into herself, squeezing her arms around her legs to keep them still.

  A man shouted. More gunfire. Muffled cries seeped through the wall. The emergency exit was located just outside the bathroom, and if the shooter was in the meeting room, she might be able to slip out—

  The door to the bathroom was kicked open, and light flooded the room. A scream filled her throat. To silence herself, Kate bit down on her forearm. The taste of blood filled her mouth. Bullets ricocheted off the floor and into the metal divider. Shards of tile and pieces of mirror and porcelain skittered across the floor. She bit down harder. To move, to cry out would get her shot.

  The footsteps moved away, but before the door closed with a soft thud, Kate heard the wail of a lone siren. A few moments later, the light went out. She allowed herself one deep breath.

  There was another rapid burst of gunfire from the hall.

  Clinging to her perch and afraid to move, Kate mentally made the sign of the cross and began whispering the Lord’s Prayer as more bursts of gunfire erupted outside the room. A random barrage of memories played in her head. She closed her eyes against the darkness of the room and let them embrace her: The wonder on Rhiannon’s face when she found Easter eggs tucked into her bunny’s hutch when she was five; how excited Devin was when he hit his first homerun; the Christmas mornings when the two of them would run for the tree, padding softly in their footed pajamas; Rhiannon being crowned homecoming queen; Devin’s high school graduation. And of course, Billy.

  They had been together for more than half her life. He’d been her life. This wasn’t how it was supposed to end. She’d meant it when she told him she never wanted to see him again.

  Yet at this moment, he was all she wanted. />
  The muffled sound of sirens pierced the walls. There was more gunfire. More footsteps. She wanted to cry. She wanted out. She wanted it to be over.

  The door to the bathroom banged open.

  “Police! Is anyone in here?”

  Don’t scream. Don’t move. Her mouth was filled with blood; she’d bitten through her lip.

  The door to the first stall banged open.

  What if it isn’t the police?

  “Identify yourself!”

  Heavy-soled black boots were visible beneath the door. She couldn’t breathe.

  “Answer me! Who’s in there?”

  Her voice was frozen in her throat. She made no sound. She couldn’t. She made the sign of the cross and covered her face as the door crashed open.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chances were pretty good he was going to lose his mind. All Billy could think about was how much he missed Kate and how badly he needed a drink. Instead, he was stuck in fucking suburbia, miles from anything, watching a goddamn Phillies game.

  If he knew what the twins had done with the remote, he’d change the damn channel. It had been well over thirty-five years and baseball still made the hair on his arms stand up and his need for a drink even stronger. And either there was no alcohol in the house, or Rhiannon had done a damn fine job hiding it.

  Until he was ten years old, Billy had eaten, slept, and breathed baseball. He had been a pitching phenom and a Little League starter wherever his father was stationed, right up until the day his father had beaten him nearly to death for fucking with his prized Babe Ruth autographed baseball.

  Billy had been raised by his grandparents after that, and while he’d never seen his father again, his mother made an appearance every now and then. He hadn’t seen her in twenty years, not since the night she showed up after a gig and convinced him that if he didn’t go along with her wishes—to send her money each month—his father might show up on his family’s doorstep the next time Billy was out of town.