A Thorn Among the Lilies

by Michael Hiebert

  “Right now?”

  “Yeah.”

  “No!” Carry said, a little too quickly. “In fact, you can have it.” What she did want to do was have him hug her again. Or better yet, kiss her, but she wasn’t about to say that.

  “No, no. It’s yours. We’ll use it next time we come.”

  She sighed. “Okay. Next time we come.”

  She hoped there wouldn’t be a next time. Or if there was, they’d just stick to the hot dogs and the soda pop. By far, that was her favorite part of Jolly Castle Fun Park. Oh, and the hugging. Hot dogs, pop, and hugging. Now that would be the perfect date.

  “What are we going to do now?” Carry asked.

  Jonathon checked his watch. “Our reservations aren’t until eleven o’clock. That gives us almost eight hours to find something to do until dinner. Sure you don’t want to play another round?”

  “Very sure,” Carry said. Again a little too quickly.

  “Okay. Well, do you rollerblade?”

  Carry laughed.

  “What?”

  “I’ve never tried, but one thing I’m not is athletic.”

  “How ’bout bowling?”

  “How ’bout we go back to my place and see if my mother is out? Maybe we can snuggle on the sofa and watch television.”

  “I like that idea,” Jonathon said.

  CHAPTER 52

  Leah had found the perfect little outdoor restaurant around the edge of Willet Lake: Waves at Willet. She met Dan Truitt there at ten-thirty, so they’d have time to eat before midnight.

  From here, Leah and he would be able to see the fireworks across the lake. Leah had already given permission to let Caroline go out on her own, too. This gave further permission for Abe to be in charge of himself (with Dewey). Leah hoped this wasn’t a mistake. She was pretty sure she’d made the right choice, though. As she liked to say, Abe was old for his age. Something she worried about constantly. She hoped her being a cop didn’t inadvertently rob Abe of his childhood.

  “So, Detective Leah Teal, I know very little about you. You got kids?” Dan Truitt asked, after a sip of red wine. Once again, he’d ordered the wine without consulting Leah. At least this time, though, he’d let her order her own meal. He was having the steak and ribs. She was settling for a flame-broiled tuna over rice.

  “Yes, I have two. Abe and Caroline. Caroline just turned fifteen, and I guess she acts like a typical fifteen-year-old. You know, she has her moments. Abe will be thirteen in March, but sometimes he seems so much older. He reminds me a lot of his father.”

  “What happened to his father?”

  Leah’s breath caught in her throat. She didn’t like discussing Billy’s death. “He died when Abe was two. Stupid car accident. He was coming home from working a midnight shift. Thought he could pass an eighteen-wheeler. Ended up in a head-on collision.”

  Dan reached out and touched Leah’s wrist. “I’m so sorry.”

  Leah looked away so he wouldn’t see the tears collecting in her eyes. “Yeah, it was hard. It still is a lot of the time. But I’m slowly gettin’ over it. I have my son to thank for that.”

  “Yeah, children are great, aren’t they?” Dan asked.

  She met his eyes. “They really are. How many do you have?”

  “I don’t have any myself. Never been married. Lived with a few women for extended periods of time, though. It always seemed to end up the same way. They’d find something wrong with me and slowly the yellin’ and screamin’ would set in, and that would turn into them throwin’ stuff and me duckin’ and coverin’ and the police gettin’ involved. I mean, I am the police, so it was kind of embarrassing. . . .”

  Leah laughed. “I guess.”

  “I s’pose I’m not easy to live with. The common denominator seems to be me in all these awkward relationships. Which is weird because, in my head? All I want is peace and quiet. I want to just get along.”

  “Yeah, I understand, I reckon.”

  “Really?” Dan asked. “You’re the first person to ever tell me that.”

  The moon looked huge and the night was lit by thousands of tiny stars. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. It couldn’t have been a more perfect night. Somewhere out on the lake, Leah heard a fish jump.

  “Oh,” she said, “you never told me what happened with Cassandra Benson, did you check her out?”

  “I went and paid her a little visit. Got a little rough. Had to really pull my testosterone back.”

  “Seriously?” Leah asked.

  “No, she’s eighty-six and in a wheelchair. I don’t think she’s our serial killer. Not unless she ran the victims down and then knitted them to death. Very nice lady, to be honest.”

  Leah laughed. Probably more than she should have. Wine had a habit of doing that to her. “Seriously? She’s really eighty-six?”

  “Seriously. I was ready to go in all Dirty Harry and I meet Grandma Moses.”

  Leah sighed. “We’re not gonna figure this one out.”

  “Yes, we will. But do me a favor?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Take a break tonight from being a cop? Tell me about your family.”

  “Well, my daughter’s a handful and I don’t reckon she means to be. I honestly think she doesn’t reckon she’s doin’ anything wrong even when she is. It makes it very hard to raise her or to give her any guidance.”

  Leah finished the rest of the Cabernet in her glass. Dan refilled it.

  “I’m happy you said yes when I asked you to go out on New Year’s Eve,” he said.

  She smiled, a little bit sadly. “I’m happy you invited me.”

  “No, you misunderstand. I’m happy because I made reservations at a different place up in Birmingham six months ago just figurin’ someone would show up in my life to go to dinner with so I wouldn’t look like an idiot. I didn’t want to show up alone. This place is much nicer.” He laughed.

  Leah laughed, too. “You’re an idiot.” She laughed even more.

  “Why are you laughin’ so much?”

  “Cuz that’s what my son would say: ‘You’re an idiot.’ I just find it funny.”

  Dan checked his watch. “Fireworks should start in ten minutes. We’re ten minutes out of 1989. How does that feel to you?”

  “Like I’m goin’ to be another year away from Billy’s death and things should be that much easier to cope with.”

  “Well, that’s positive, right?”

  “I suppose.”

  “What are your kids doin’ right now?”

  “Oh, probably gettin’ ready to walk round the neighborhood smashin’ pot lids together. They’re a little on the extroverted side. At least my youngest will be. He and his friend have the run of the house. My older one—my girl, Caroline—is out on her first real date. Can’t say I’m not a little bit on edge about it.”

  “With you as their role model, I bet they’re great kids.”

  “I hope so,” she said, trying to keep the worry about Caroline out of her voice.

  People were gathering along the railing separating the restaurant from the lake. “Come on,” Dan said, “let’s have one more glass of wine and go and get good positions for the fireworks.”

  “Sounds like a great idea!” Leah said.

  The next glass of wine for both of them went quickly. They got up out of their chairs and approached the railing, and while they did, Dan reached out his hand and Leah took it, their fingers intertwining.

  Five minutes later, the fireworks started.

  Leah stood there, not realizing how beautiful life could be. The lake, the cypress trees, the fireworks glowing red and spreading in the sky, and then white, and then blue, and then pink, and then green and blue all coming together with little sonic booms. It was all so beautiful. She had never stopped to notice the graceful moments of life until tonight and she realized why.

  Usually, there were so many fireworks in the sky, it just seemed like daytime. It took someone like Dan Truitt to shake her out of her lonely exi
stence and let her experience life once more from a new point of view.

  Inside, her heart beat like thunder. Was she in love? Hardly. Was she enamored? Possibly. It seemed more like a schoolgirl crush than anything else.

  But for now, she’d take it.

  CHAPTER 53

  When Carry and Jonathon got back from mini-golf, Carry’s mother had not been home. Apparently, her date had started early.

  “This is very unlike her,” Carry said.

  “She would probably say this is very unlike you,” Jonathon replied.

  Carry took a moment to consider this, and finally said, “I reckon you’re right. I reckon this year is a weird year and it hasn’t even started yet.”

  “What are Abe and Dewey doin’ for New Year’s?”

  “Who the hell cares? I think they’re watchin’ television and ringin’ in the New Year with Dick Clark.”

  “I kinda like ’em. Abe and Dewey, that is. I don’t s’pose you want to invite them with us?”

  “It would be worse than miniature golfing and, trust me, that’s sayin’ a lot.”

  “Okay, then. By the way, thanks for the rat. I have a great cage set up for him and everything.”

  “You should really be thanking Dewey for the rat. It was his gift.”

  “To you.”

  “I didn’t want it.”

  “Whatever.”

  They were sitting together on the sofa in Carry’s living room. Or to be more precise, Jonathon was sitting and Carry was lying with her head in his lap. Carry wanted Jonathon to make a move on her, but he didn’t seem to want to. Or maybe he was scared to. She started thinking this was something she was going to have to initiate.

  “So, I have a surprise,” Jonathon said, looking at his watch. “And it should be here anytime.”

  It was almost ten o’clock, an hour before their dinner reservations. What sort of surprise could he possibly have?

  There was a knock on the door. “Oh,” Jonathon said. “That’ll be your surprise now.”

  They went to the door, Carry creeping behind like an excited little schoolgirl. What she saw took her breath away.

  Beneath a cloudless sky full of stars on this crisp New Year’s Eve stood a horse-drawn carriage waiting out in the street. The carriage was black and was being pulled by four giant white Clydesdales.

  “Oh my God!” Carry squealed. “How did you—”

  “I told you. I got connections,” Jonathon said smugly.

  The driver who knocked on the door was dressed in Victorian style, with a top hat and a tail coat and trousers with a dark waistcoat. He looked anything but cold. From where she stood, Carry could tell his coats were both velvet lined. “I assume you’re our driver for the night, my good man?” Jonathon said.

  The man nodded. “That I am. You may call me William.”

  “All right, William, we shall be out the door in no time.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  William went back and tended to his horses while Carry smiled what felt like the biggest smile of her life. “You got us a horse-drawn carriage?”

  “Only for the way there. We have him for an hour, so I told him to take a very scenic route. For coming home, I’m afraid I’ll have to walk you.”

  “I think I’m falling in love with you,” Carry said.

  “Holy, that wasn’t hard.”

  And Carry guessed it wasn’t, really.

  Five minutes later, Carry and Jonathon were aboard the coach and the driver signaled his horses to begin clomping down Cottonwood Lane. It was a very slow but very romantic way to travel.

  “Permission to head north on Hunter Road, sir?” the driver called back. “I was considering taking all the forested roads in the south before finally making it down to Main Street. You will reach the restaurant from the east if that’s okay with you.”

  “That sounds fine, William,” Jonathon said.

  “I feel like a millionaire,” Carry whispered, and giggled.

  “It actually wasn’t that expensive. Just hard to book on New Year’s Eve.”

  “How did you do it?”

  “I told you, I’ve got connections.”

  “Your connections are scaring me a bit, to be honest.”

  “Okay, then I’ll let you off the hook. It’s all because of my grandfather who owns the pizza place. He knows everybody, and it’s like everyone owes him a favor. And as I said before, he’s a true romantic, so it’s easy to talk him into these sorts of things.”

  “Make sure you thank him for me.”

  “My smilin’ face is thankful enough, I reckon.”

  They made it to the restaurant for exactly eleven. Carry didn’t see how much Jonathon tipped their driver, but she was willing to bet it was substantial.

  The maître d’ for the restaurant ushered them right in. “We’ve been holding your table. And everyone has been asking ’bout it,” the girl said. “I reckon you’ve got the best seat in the house.”

  They climbed the stairs to the rooftop where, among all the busy people, sat one lonely table with by far the best view of the courthouse. And it belonged to Carry and Jonathon. Carry’s heart was doing tricks on trampolines.

  She barely remembered dinner. “Order anything you want,” Jonathon said.

  Carry was going to stick with a hamburger and fries, but when Jonathon went ahead and ordered the prime rib, she decided to go with the sirloin Neptune. She had no idea how much tonight was costing her poor new boyfriend, but she was sure enjoying it.

  They finished dinner with fifteen minutes to go before the fireworks. “Just enough time for dessert, I reckon,” said Jonathon.

  Carry’s mother rarely let her order dessert when they were out. Jonathon ordered a chocolate tiramisu and Carry ordered a caramel-covered chocolate brownie.

  Both desserts came in record time. It was as though the staff wanted everyone done before the fireworks started. Carry had her last bite in her mouth when the music from the courthouse suddenly swelled up, and the first ball of red swirled as it shot way over their heads and exploded into a giant cascade of sparkles that hung there in space as three more came to join it.

  Being so close to the fireworks was amazing. The explosions went off like small sonic booms Carry felt in her chest a half second after the fireworks burst in the night sky. There were showers of red, white, blue, gold. Some shot straight up, others arced across each other before exploding. The whole thing was perfectly choreographed to the music being played from the courthouse.

  Jonathon moved his chair in close beside Carry’s and Carry thought no night could be any better than this.

  Then he said the one thing that upped the ante: “Caroline Teal? Would you mind so much if I kissed you?”

  “Jonathon Mitchell?” she replied. “I wouldn’t mind one little bit.”

  And suddenly, beneath all those gigantic bursts of explosive colors, Carry’s lips found Jonathon’s and it felt as though the fireworks hung there amongst all the tiny stars in the night sky as time stood still and the night turned into one of the best ones Carry could ever imagine having in her entire existence.

  CHAPTER 54

  New Year’s morning, Carry was on the verge of yelling at us to go play in my bedroom or better yet go play with our new weapons. Mom had decided to go in to work, and Jonathon had showed up around ten o’clock. It looked like today was panning out to be another day of being ordered about by my sister, who liked to rule the house with an iron fist whenever she fought with me.

  This time, she surprised me, though. It all happened when Dewey dropped the bomb on Carry that gave us diplomatic immunity. “Ever since Christmas, I’ve been studyin’ to be a psychic. I have tarot cards and everythin’. I’m pretty good at it, too. Ain’t I, Abe?”

  “I have to admit, he wasn’t bad when he read mine,” I said, “but it could’ve been a fluke. And the first part was full of stuff he already knew.”

  “Do you have your cards here?” Carry asked, actually sounding hopeful or, d
are I say, happy we were here—something I don’t think I had ever heard before.

  “Yep, they go with me everywhere I go. I even sleep with ’em under my pillow. Apparently it’s supposed to give you a better psychic bond with your deck. And without a good psychic bond with your deck, you ain’t no real psychic.”

  “Read Jonathon’s future!” Carry exclaimed.

  The two of them were wound up like a corkscrew together with Jonathon sittin’ at one end of the sofa and Carry sittin’ practically on top of him. He had his legs up and interlockin’ with hers, and his arms crossed over her belly and were holdin’ her opposite hands. I wondered if they’d ever sit like this if my mom were home. I highly doubted it.

  “Oh, don’t make me move,” Jonathon whined to Carry. Clearly he had second thoughts about Dewey’s psychic abilities.

  “It won’t take me very long,” Dewey said, running for his backpack, which was in the dining room. He’d dropped it there on our way in. “Probably only ten minutes!” he called out while (I assumed) he rummaged through his backpack. I guessed he finally did find what he was looking for because he came bursting back into the living room with the deck in one hand and his backpack in the other. Why he’d brought his backpack with him was beyond me.

  Carry untied herself from Jonathon. “Come on,” she whined. “All you have to do is sit up.”

  “What if I don’t wanna know my future?”

  “Don’t worry,” I said. “He’s not that good.”

  Finally Carry convinced Jonathon to sit up so he was leaning over top of the coffee table. “I’m afraid I have bad news,” I said.

  “What’s that?” he asked.

  “The coffee table’s not big enough. You have to sit on the floor.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Jonathon gave Carry a look like a dog about to be put down.

  “Please?” she asked. “You’re already halfway there.”

  With a huge sigh, he asked Dewey, “Okay, where do you want me?”

  “Right there across from the television. I need ’bout three feet to set up my spread.”

  “The psychic we saw only had about a two-foot round table,” Carry said.