Mr. and Mrs. Wrong

by Fay Robinson

  He collected the coffee and sat back down. “When’s the young’un due?”

  “The first week of January, give or take a week.”

  “Do you know what it is?”

  “The sex? No, not for certain, but I’m pretty sure it’s a girl.”

  “A girl. That would be nice.”

  “I’m going to be blunt, Mr. Webster. You’ve given me quite a scare a couple of times. Shame on you. If you came here to see Jack, why are you following me?”

  “Started out watching him. Wanted to see how he was living, what he did every day, how he was getting along. Thought I’d hang back and check out the situation.” He took a bite of his sandwich and chewed as he talked. “When I saw he was doing all right, I had second thoughts about comin’ here. Talked to my parole officer and made plans to head out.”

  “What changed your mind?”

  “You swellin’ up. Realized I was gonna have me a grandbaby, and thought I’d stick around a bit longer. Didn’t mean to scare you. Honest. But you’re a whole lot more interesting to watch than that son of mine. Besides, you’ve needed my help a couple times.”

  “I have? When?”

  “Who do you think took care of that robber a while back?”

  “You did something to that man?”

  “Had to. You were about to get yourself in a heap of trouble. Coldcocked him when he came flyin’ out the door, then skedaddled before anybody saw me.”

  “When else have you helped?”

  “That time in the grocery store when your wallet came up missing.”

  “I remember. I found it later on the floorboard of my car, where I’d dropped it.” He shook his head. “That’s not what happened?” she asked.

  “A creep took it out of your pocketbook in the store.”

  “Did you coldcock him, too?”

  “Nope. He was easier. Picked his pocket and threw your wallet on your floorboard so you’d think you dropped it by accident. You need to be more careful with your things. Thieves like me are all over the place. We’re bad people—we’ll steal you blind.”

  Amused, Lucky knew right then and there that she was going to like Ray Webster. But with the knowledge came guilt. He’d hurt Jack so deeply.

  “I’d imagine you have better things to do than to follow me. What about your job?”

  “Only work Friday, Saturday and Monday mornings, seven till eleven. Got nothing else to do but kill time.”

  “Please tell me you aren’t doing anything…extra that might get you in trouble.”

  He chuckled at that. “No, missy. That life’s behind me.”

  “Thank goodness. I’d hate to see you go back to jail, Mr. Webster.”

  “Call me Ray.”

  “Okay, Ray. My family calls me Lucky.”

  “Can’t understand why. You sure seem to be on the wrong side of luck most of the time.”

  “I have to agree with you there.” She thought of something she’d been curious about since yesterday. “Have you been out at my cabin watching me? I’ve felt a presence.”

  “I thought you had. Wanted to see where you two were living. J.T. didn’t know I was there, though, did he?” She said no. “Didn’t think so. Followed him for weeks on his job and he never knew it. He sure was a good thief as a kid, though. Could pick a lock faster than anybody I’d ever seen. He a good cop?”

  “He’s a very good cop.”

  “Surprised the hell out of me to hear he’d joined the force up in Pennsylvania, but I guess I should’ve known he’d end up bent that way.”

  Deaton came in the door, spotted her and waved. Lucky smiled and waved back. He went to the take-out counter, apparently to pick up an order he’d phoned in.

  Returning her attention to Ray, she asked, “Did you talk to Jack yesterday after we left you on the street?”

  “Wouldn’t call it talking exactly. He came over to the boardinghouse and did a lot of yellin’. Wants me gone from here, which ain’t surprising, but I’d like to stick around for a while and see the grandbaby. That be okay with you?”

  “That’s Jack’s decision to make, not mine. Do you understand why?” Ray said he did. “The fact that I’m talking to you today would upset him if he knew.”

  “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

  Deaton came over holding a sack, interrupting her reply. “Hey. How are you?” He looked with awe at her stomach. “Wow! You’re as big as a house!”

  “Gee, say it a little louder, please. I don’t think those people over in Georgia heard you.”

  Always good-natured, he laughed. “Sorry, but it’s such a shock to see you with meat on your bones for a change.”

  “I’ll forgive you, but don’t you dare say that to me after the baby’s born. Deaton, this is—” she wasn’t sure how to introduce Jack’s father “—Ray Webster. He’s new in town. Ray, this comedian is my dear friend Deaton Swain. We’ve known each other since we were five. He’s about the only person around here who can get away with telling me I’m as big as a house.”

  The men shook hands.

  “Nice to meet you, Mr. Webster.” He turned back to Lucky. “My mom said to tell you she has a little something to give you for the baby.”

  “How sweet. Thank her for me.”

  “I will. Well, I’d like to stay and talk, but I’ve got to get back. The captain’s on the warpath today for some reason. Don’t suppose you could sweeten him up in the mornings before you send him off, could you, Lucky?”

  “I’m afraid not.” She tried to maintain her smile, but being reminded that Jack was no longer there made it hard.

  “You take care, kiddo. Don’t eat too much.” He tweaked her nose and told Ray goodbye.

  “Cops,” Ray said when Deaton had left. “They’ve got their own smell.”

  “Are you telling me you would’ve known he was a police officer if he hadn’t been wearing that radio on his belt and hadn’t said something about Jack being his boss?”

  “Yes, ma’am, I would’ve. You can tell a lot about people by how they act and what they say…and don’t say. You, for instance, smiled real pretty when he said that about J.T. in the mornings, but your eyes looked sad. Did you boot my boy out?”

  “I did.”

  “Because of me?”

  “No, because of him, because he didn’t tell me the truth about you or himself.”

  “I reckon I should never have come here.”

  “No, Ray, I’m glad you did. Until you and your son can find a way to deal with the past and with each other, I don’t think any of us are going to be happy.”

  THEY PARTED with an agreement to meet again the following Monday at noon. Lucky knew it probably wasn’t wise. Jack would be angry if he found out she’d even talked to his father today, much less made future plans to see him.

  The possibility existed that Deaton might mention having seen her and “Mr. Webster” eating lunch. But she wasn’t going to lie or hide. If Jack found out and didn’t like it, too bad. Volunteering the information, though, that was something else entirely. Sooner or later she’d have to tell him, but later suited her just fine.

  Her afternoon was packed with assignments, so she called in and said she was on her way back. The receptionist told her Leigh needed to see her in the conference room as soon as possible. When she went inside, she found herself in the middle of a surprise baby shower.

  Balloons hung from the ceiling. The staff had bought a cake and made punch. Even the twenty or so employees from the press, insertion and bundling rooms were there. “You shouldn’t have done all this.” She went through the crowd thanking them, commenting on the decorations. “And all these gifts! My goodness.”

  “I called your husband and he’s on his way,” one of the advertising girls said in passing. “Let me cut this cake.” She yelled out, “Will somebody go tell Cal to hurry up?”

  Leigh took her shoulder and pulled her aside. “I’m sorry—I didn’t know what to do. I tried to suggest that maybe Jack would be too b
usy to come, but they thought it would be a nice gesture to at least ask him. Apparently, the rat said yes.”

  “Oh, no, please tell me this isn’t happening.”

  “Have you talked to him since yesterday?”

  “No, and I don’t want to. How do I get out of this?”

  “Too late, I’m afraid.” She nodded to the doorway where Jack stood.

  He scanned the room and his gaze settled on her. She tried to move as he walked over, but her legs were rubbery and her feet felt nailed to the floor. “You shouldn’t have come,” she told him.

  “I wanted to see you, and I knew this might be the only way.” He glanced at her sister. “Leigh.”

  “Lucky made me promise not to fight with you, but she did say I could tell you what a bastard you are. You’re a bastard, Jack.”

  “I know it, Leigh.”

  “Let’s all just get through this, please,” Lucky begged.

  Someone passed out slices of cake. Cal came in with cartons of ice cream, and Lucky had to go through the excruciating torture of opening all the baby gifts with Jack. By the time the party finally broke up forty-five minutes later, she was about sick from playacting.

  “Do you want me to load these presents and take them out to the cabin for you?” Jack asked.

  “No, I’ll get Leigh to help me.”

  “Can we talk?”

  “I don’t know what we have left to say.”

  “Five minutes? Surely you can give me that.”

  She relented and they went upstairs to the darkroom. Needing to keep her hands busy, she took down negatives and began filing them in their envelopes. “Where did you sleep last night?”

  “At Cal’s place. Don’t be mad at him about it, though. I’ll get a motel room tonight. I don’t want to cause any trouble between you and him.”

  “If you want to stay at Cal’s, that’s up to you. I don’t expect you to cast off your friendship with him just because we’re having problems. Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?”

  “No, I wanted to see you, ask you to reconsider letting me come home. Being apart isn’t going to help either of us. We’ve tried that before.”

  “Home is a strange word coming from you. You never considered the cabin home.”

  “You’re my home, Lucky. Wherever you are, that’s where I want to be.”

  She wavered, wanting to kiss away the hurt in his eyes, to hold him and erase the sadness from his face, but the pain was still too fresh.

  Reaching out, he stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers and the air thickened in her lungs, robbing her of breath.

  This was what it must feel like to suffocate.

  “Sleeping without you last night was hell,” he said.

  Her bed had felt empty, too, and she’d tossed and turned all night without his arm around her body to anchor her.

  “I was in hell, too. I missed you holding me.”

  “Then let me come home.”

  “I don’t trust you not to hurt me again.”

  His hand dropped. “Tell me what I have to do to restore your trust.”

  “I don’t know if you can do anything other than leave me alone to try and get past this. I love you, despite what you’ve done, but I don’t want to have to deal with our problems right now. Can you give me some time?”

  “Apparently I don’t have much choice.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  THANKSGIVING CAME, but for the first time in her life, Lucky didn’t celebrate it at her parents’. No amount of pleading from her mother would change her mind.

  Although she’d patched things up with Leigh, she couldn’t bear the thought of celebrating with her family while Jack sat alone in a motel room. Instead of turkey, her grandmother’s pecan dressing and Shannon’s sweet-potato casserole, she ate chicken noodle soup with a few crackers.

  It was one of the most depressing times of Lucky’s life. Jack was staying away as she’d asked, although she wasn’t so sure now that it was such a good idea. Being alone was proving more stressful than being with him.

  Also discouraging was the absence of any word from Leona Harrison. The phone call Lucky had counted on getting from Terrell’s aunt hadn’t materialized. And without Leona’s permission, Horizon House would never let her in to talk to him. If he knew anything about what had happened to Eileen Olenick twenty-one years ago, it seemed Lucky would never have the chance to hear about it.

  After the holiday, she drastically cut back her hours at work. She was so big now that her feet stayed swollen most of the time, but the pain in her back, thankfully, had eased since she’d strengthened her stomach muscles. All those pelvic tilts she’d complained about, which Jack had insisted she do night after night, had been worthwhile.

  This was her last week at work. Going in to the Register part-time, plus her regular lunches with Ray, kept her sane while she waited for the baby to be born.

  She tried not to fall back into her old pattern of not bothering to cook and spending too much time talking to the dog, but it wasn’t easy with Jack not there.

  Until she was alone again, she hadn’t realized how much she depended on him emotionally and in every other way. Suddenly she had no one to make her laugh or listen to her problems. She had no one to watch the sunset with or to tell her when she was being grumpy.

  He’d come by one day while she was at work and had moved out the rest of his things. Now it was almost as if he’d never lived there at all.

  But poor Beanie remembered. She still waited by the door each and every night, hoping he’d walk through it.

  “I miss him, too,” Lucky told her this night, stroking her head.

  The old dog was losing weight, but a broken heart was a poor way to remove her extra pounds. If Jack wasn’t living in a motel room, Lucky would have taken Beanie to him and ended her misery.

  Maybe she’d ask him to come home and end her own misery.

  Outside it was still pouring rain for the fifth day in a row, uncommon for December, and the drops created their own strange music on the tin roof. The “freshets,” as the locals called the floods, didn’t begin until at least January, so this was probably only a preview of the real thing.

  In past times, before a series of locks and dams were built, these winter rains were a blessing for the keelboat and light-draught-steamboat captains; they needed them to fill the river and allow boats to get past dangerous shoals.

  The river was so rough and high right now that Lucky hadn’t dared take her little boat out as she liked to each day. The water was nearly over the pier. She hadn’t even been able to fish off it all week.

  She asked if Beanie wanted to go out. She went to the screen door and opened it, but the dog took one look at the grim weather and balked.

  “I don’t blame you. Pretty nasty out there. But you don’t hold your bladder any better than I do these days, so how about you rush out really quick and squat under that big tree? I’ll stand here on the porch and hold the door.”

  Finally she persuaded the dog to go. Once back inside the cabin and thoroughly dried with a fluffy towel, Beanie seemed more content. She lay down at Lucky’s feet at the kitchen table while she wrapped the last of her Christmas presents.

  Lucky hadn’t bothered with a tree this year. She’d thought about getting a small one, but she didn’t really feel merry. The memories of last Christmas, when she and Jack had still been newlyweds and happy, ruined any spirit she had left.

  Christmas was next Tuesday, six days away, and she still didn’t know what to do about it. Her mother wanted her there, but… She sighed and rubbed her belly. “What should we do, Grace? Should we stay here or go visit your grandparents? Your daddy will be all by himself, though, and that makes me sad.”

  And what about poor Ray? Surely the other people in the boardinghouse would visit their families and he’d be alone, too. She hated the thought of that as well.

  The telephone rang as she was putting a bow on the package for Leigh’s daughter. St
ruggling to her feet, she grabbed the portable, which lay on the coffee table.

  “Hello.”

  “Mrs. Cahill, this is Leona Harrison.”

  Lucky gasped in surprise. She’d given up hope that she’d ever hear from the woman. “Mrs. Harrison, how are you?”

  “I’m fine, thank you. I’m calling because, well, I’ve given a great deal of thought to what you asked, and I’ve decided to let you see Terrell. I don’t know if it’ll do any good, but like you said, we don’t know until we try.”

  If Lucky hadn’t been carrying around thirty-five extra pounds, she would have jumped up and down. “Thank you so much.”

  “I normally visit him on Fridays, but if you happen to be free tomorrow morning, say about nine, we could go then.”

  “That would be perfect. I can meet you there.”

  “I’m trusting you, Mrs. Cahill. Please don’t hurt him.”

  “No, Mrs. Harrison, I won’t. Trust is something I don’t take lightly.”

  THE FOLLOWING MORNING Lucky pushed the security button at Horizon House, stated her name and was let inside the gate. The heavy rains had finally stopped, and the sky was beginning to clear, but the dissipation of the clouds also brought colder weather.

  Her stomach did somersaults as she walked to the door. This was probably an insane idea, but she had to try. She couldn’t go on wondering if she’d wronged this man.

  Mrs. Harrison was already there and waiting. They were escorted upstairs by one of the male members of the staff, who explained that Terrell was working in his room today.

  “Be prepared for a shock,” Mrs. Harrison told her, and Lucky’s heart accelerated.

  The attendant knocked on the door and opened it slightly. “Terrell, you have visitors.” He poked his head inside. “It’s okay. Go on in,” he told the women. “He’s decent.”

  Lucky followed Terrell’s aunt, then stopped and stared. Paintings and drawings filled the room. Hundreds of pieces covered the walls, and many more lay stacked in rows by the closet.