Moon Over Alcatraz

by Patricia Yager Delagrange

I picked up my purse and handed him the diaper bag then pushed the stroller out the door, locking it behind me. I reached the truck and realized I’d forgotten to bring the car seat.

  “I’ll be right back. Her car seat is in the garage and—”

  “I have one in the back seat, all set and ready to go,” he interrupted.

  I glanced in the back seat of his truck and frowned. “Why do you have a kid’s car seat in your truck?”

  He smiled and explained. “I invited both of you today and it’s the law so I went out and bought one. It’s approved by the Department of Transportation so you don’t have to be concerned.”

  I gave him a confused look. “But—”

  “It’s no big deal, Brandy. Don’t overanalyze it,” he said, his tone testy.

  I decided to table this particular discussion. It was presumptuous on his part if he’d already planned future road trips for the three of us, and it made me feel uncomfortable. But I didn’t want to spoil our day together so I dropped it.

  He drove the back route to the park instead of taking the more direct way via Highway 880, which was always congested and packed with eighteen-wheelers. It was a leisurely drive through the back roads of the hills of Oakland, dense with dark green foliage, the evergreen trees forming canopies above the two-lane road. The twists and turns meandered for miles, and we encountered few other vehicles along the way.

  We reached Tilden Park and found a shaded picnic table near a creek. Weston took Jessica out of her car seat and held her while I laid a red-checkered cloth over the weathered wood and arranged the lunch basket at the end for easy access. Then he placed her in the baby seat in the middle of the table and I sat down. He straddled the bench next to me then leaned over and fixed the tie on one of the baby’s booties.

  “Remember when we went horseback riding at Anthony Chabot Equestrian Center, West?”

  He grinned at me then laughed. “I got stuck with the old white mare with a back so concave I felt like I was sitting in a hole.”

  “But it was a blast riding through Bort Meadow,” I countered.

  “Well, yeah. You got to ride that beautiful dark brown horse, the one with the funny way of running—”

  “It’s called a gaited horse, Weston,” I interrupted. “And he didn’t run funny,” I argued with a smile. “Those horses naturally have many gaits. You sit there as if you’re in a Barcalounger and the horse does all the work.”

  “We should go back there sometime. Maybe you could get a babysitter, and you and I could take the day off, just the two of us.” He leaned over and gave me a quick peck on the lips.

  I wasn’t expecting it and pulled back instantly. “What was that for?”

  He grinned. “Do I have to have a reason to kiss my wife?”

  “Uh, actually, yes. Yes, you do. Or did you forget you wanted to divorce your wife?”

  “I explained that to you already, Brandy. I made a mistake leaving you.”

  “I didn’t know I was carrying Edward’s child.”

  He placed a hand on my forearm and I looked over at him.

  “Why’d you sleep with him, Brandy?”

  “Oh, Weston,” I sighed. “We’ve gone over this before. Did losing our baby excuse my behavior? No, but I understand why I acted that way. And I never told you this but…I blamed myself for her death. And I thought you did too but you’d never admit it. A part of me hated myself back then.”

  Shaking his head, his brows dipped together in a frown. “What the hell are you talking about? It wasn’t your fault she died, Brandy.”

  “I know that now, but at the time I believed I’d done something when I was pregnant that caused her death. I’d killed our child, a child we never got a chance to know, never would see grow up, never be able to love. I know it sounds all screwed up, but I wasn’t thinking straight. I didn’t want to make love to you because I had terrifying visions every time you touched me. They were so graphic, I’d feel physically sick every time they’d come into my mind, I…But I couldn’t tell you how I felt. Truthfully, back then, a part of me knew it sounded crazy.”

  “You never told me any of this, Brandy. How could I know you felt that way? You never talked to me about your feelings, not after the first few days you were back from the hospital. Afterward you just clammed up, and I guessed it was your way of dealing with it, so I left you alone. I didn’t want to constantly bring up a subject already causing you so much grief.”

  I stared at him. “It’s what anyone would have done in your place, Weston. Unfortunately, a person as depressed as I was isn’t thinking correctly. My head wasn’t on straight. Like an insane person living in a sane world, nothing made sense to me.”

  “Wow.” He let out a deep breath. “I had no idea. I wish you’d told me how you were feeling. Maybe I could have helped you make sense of it all. Hell, I don’t know. I should have known.”

  I shook my head. “There’s no way you could have known what I was going through, Weston. I was good at covering up my depression. When you left for New York and I was on my own…I’m not blaming you, but maybe being alone was the worst thing for me at the time. While you were away I met Edward, and that was the beginning of the end of you and me. I did an insane thing—I slept with another man.” I shrugged my shoulders. “I look back and wonder, ‘Was that really me?’”

  “You look so sad, Brandy.”

  “So much has happened in our relationship,” I said then paused. “I don’t feel the same about anything.”

  “How do you mean?” His forehead wrinkled.

  “When you walked out in March, I was certain it would be for a couple of days, you’d come back and we’d talk. Everything would return to normal. But I didn’t hear from you and you wouldn’t return my calls then I received the divorce papers. You obviously didn’t want anything more to do with me and didn’t want to try to work it out. And you all but admitted to being in love with Carol.” I looked up at the dark green trees towering above us then down at my hands. “So, I guess I gave up on us too. I was pregnant with another man’s child, and you couldn’t handle that. It must have been a huge blow to your ego, your manhood. But as I said before, that’s not playing fair. Just because I got pregnant didn’t make what I did any worse than what happened with you and Carol. So I let it go, Weston. And I moved on.”

  Jessica whimpered and I stood up to grab her bottle out of the diaper bag. When I returned to the table to feed her I noticed she’d fallen asleep so I sat down on the bench.

  “You said you moved on,” he continued. “You’re talking about Edward, aren’t you?”

  “Edward was a surprise. I didn’t turn to him for comfort if that’s what you’re implying. It wasn’t like that at all.”

  “What was it like then?”

  I stood up again to stretch my legs and gather my thoughts then turned toward him. “At first I was so mad, I hated him. He was the enemy. He’d ruined my marriage by demanding the DNA test, and I didn’t want to be in the same room with him. But I realized I was blaming him for my indiscretion. He wasn’t the one who was married and had sex with someone else. I blamed him for wanting to discover the truth. And that’s no reason to hate or blame someone.

  “The truth about Jessica’s real father would have come to light eventually, due to a medical procedure or something. In hindsight, I’m glad it all came out now rather than later. You and I would have been living a lie and perhaps not known it for years.”

  “So what do you mean when you say you’ve ‘moved on’?”

  “Well, when I stopped blaming him for what I’d done, I had to come to terms with the fact he would be a part of my life, maybe forever. When he insisted on his parental rights, I realized he was here for the long term. He was no longer a one-night stand. He’d be around me and Jess for years.

  “He wanted to be a real parent to her. I hadn’t known his father had walked out on him and his mother when he was ten years old. He was determined to be a father to his child. I got to know him better
, then he asked to be my birthing coach, one thing led to another and—”

  “You fell in love with him, didn’t you?”

  I hesitated. Weston and I had always been good friends. Sharing and caring was a big part of who we were together. I’d learned from the past what lies could do to a relationship. Telling the truth was always the better option.

  Reaching for my hand, he whispered, “I still love you, Brandy. I never stopped.”

  I shook my head. “I’m not saying I fell out of love for you. It’s just—a lot has happened in the past year. I’m not the same person I was when you walked out. Hell, who doesn’t change, right? I’ve grown up, learned things along the way. I don’t want to go on as we were before. I’m not the same woman you were married to back then.”

  “Do we have to start all over, act like we’re dating? You want me to court you?”

  I pulled my hand from his grasp. “No. You didn’t expect me to spend a few hours with you and suddenly know exactly what I want to do about our relationship, did you?”

  “No,” he answered, looking like a scared puppy.

  “But that’s how you’re acting,” I said between gritted teeth.

  “I’m sorry.” He sighed. “I didn’t mean to pressure you.”

  “But that’s exactly what you’re doing,” I shouted then remembered the baby was asleep and lowered my voice. “You know something? I didn’t want to divorce you, Weston. Edward wasn’t waiting in the wings for me to return to him because he was in love with me. You, on the other hand, turned again to Carol who obviously was lurking on the sidelines and was still in love with you…and you fell in love with her. Then you dumped her and now you want me back.”

  I swiped at the tears as they fell. “I don’t trust you anymore. When we hit rock bottom I turned to you so we could work it out. I didn’t turn to Edward. It was you I needed. But you deserted me and chose Carol to give you what you needed.” I pounded my fist on my chest, sobbing. “I was your wife damn it…and you turned your back on me.” The burden I’d been carrying inside lifted with every word I said, each sentence a revelation for me and I suppose, for him too. I never realized how resentful and angry I felt over the way he’d ended our marriage.

  He stared down at his hands and I noticed tear drops had landed on his knuckles. I sat down on the bench again, facing him, and waited for him to speak. I’d said everything I needed to say. My feelings about him and our relationship had finally coalesced and explaining them gave me an odd sense of freedom.

  After several minutes, he looked up at me, his eyes red and watery from crying. “So this is it? We’re finished?”

  “I’m saying I have some serious thinking to do.” I paused. “Would you mind taking me home?”

  “But we haven’t even eaten, Brandy. And Jessica’s still napping. Couldn’t we at least straighten this out between us,” he pleaded.

  I picked up Jessica and put her in the car seat then returned to the table and began gathering up the picnic basket. He stood up and placed a hand on my arm. I stopped and looked over at him. “I need to be alone, West. Can we please just go?” I grabbed my purse and got into the truck. He folded the tablecloth, hopped in, and started the engine. We drove home in silence.

  He took the freeway instead of the back roads, and we reached Alameda in a half hour. I was anxious for him to drop me off. A part of me would always resent his walking out on me when we should have been coming together as a couple, seeking solace from each other. And now he decided it was time to work on our relationship? I wasn’t sure I wanted to do that. And that made me the bad guy?

  When he pulled up to the house I jumped out of the truck, opened the back door, and took Jessica out of the car seat. He came over to my side of the truck and handed me my purse and diaper bag.

  “Bye,” I said, not looking him in the face. I turned to walk away.

  He touched my hand and I glanced over at him. “Will you call me?” He paused. “When you’ve made up your mind?”

  I nodded, turned, and walked up the path to the front door. His truck pulled away from the curb and I felt relieved he wasn’t with me.

  Chapter 37

  A week later Edward called and left a message he’d like to take Jessica for the day. I hadn’t heard from him since our court date and was anxious to see him. When he arrived at the front door, I could tell from the look on his face something was awry. He was dressed in sharp looking khaki pants with a white Izod shirt; however, the good looks stopped with the clothes. His face had a pinched quality, as if he’d been reading too much. And his stance wasn’t the casual, self-assured one I was accustomed to seeing. Maybe he’d been hunched over a table writing on a legal pad for days.

  “Hi. I’m here to pick up my little girl.”

  I motioned for him to come inside. “Not to be mean, but you don’t look too good. You have circles under your eyes. Late nights?”

  “Yeah. Hanging around the office until midnight. Sometimes I don’t leave until two, three in the morning.”

  “What’s up with that? Big case or gorgeous secretary?”

  He gave me a dirty look. “My secretary is sixty-four years old and wears a chain around her neck to hold up her bifocals. She and I aren’t really into each other, if you get my drift.”

  “Then it must be work.” I gestured toward the front room where I took a seat at one end of the couch and he plopped down on the other end.

  “Oh, yeah. Being a criminal lawyer is tough sometimes. One of my clients is a guy who looks like Wally Cleaver but he’s more like Ted Bundy. He says he’s innocent and the prosecution has only circumstantial evidence tying him to the crime. But I know the guy did it and that’s really hard on me.”

  “It’s your job to prove he’s innocent, right? What makes this case so special?”

  He leaned back into the pillows and took a deep breath. “He’s accused of murdering his next door neighbor’s five-year-old daughter. DNA evidence proves he’s been in the house, but the parents were friends with him, so that’s not incriminating evidence. He actually babysat the little girl sometimes. But somebody murdered their daughter and the couple believes it’s my client.” He shook his head, pulled at the lobe of his ear. “I’ve got this niggling little thing in the back of my mind. I know he’s guilty. But I’m his attorney and it’s my job to prove his innocence. It’s the prosecutor’s job to prove he’s guilty. And there’s no way they can do it. I know it and they know it. So the guy’s gonna walk. And I just can’t wrap my brain around this one. It’s tearing me up. But I believe in the law and I believe in my job so I’m doing my best to get him set free. I’m good at what I do and I’m betting he’ll walk.”

  “How terrible,” I said, feeling sad for him, for the murdered child, for her parents. “The couple must be devastated, losing their little girl like that. I can’t imagine their grief.”

  “I know what you mean. Now I have a kid of my own, and this kind of case hits me right in the gut.” He paused, looking deep in thought. “There could be quite a public backlash if I prove him innocent. He’ll have to have police protection until he decides to move out of Alameda.”

  “What about you? You’ll be considered the bad guy who got him acquitted,” I said, feeling scared for him. “What about your safety?”

  He sat up straight, folding his hands between his knees. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine…How was your time with Weston?”

  “We talked. Or I should say, I talked. I tried to explain where my head was at when I saw you again after all those years, that sort of thing.”

  “You didn’t tell him he could come back home, did you?”

  “I told you I wouldn’t do that. I need time to think things over. And I promised you I wouldn’t make my decision before seeing you. In fact, I’d like us to spend some time together when you’re next free. When does your case go to trial?”

  “December.”

  “You look tired, Edward. You’re working too hard. Can’t you take time o
ff, perhaps on the weekends? Rest, relax—remember what that’s like?”

  “Can’t recall that I do. Seriously, I’m hoping this trial will be over by my birthday. February first, remember? Then I’ll take a few weeks off, go somewhere sunny. Or not. I wouldn’t want to go alone.” He gave me one of his killer smiles, which always made my insides feel like JELL-O.

  I reached for his hand and pulled him down onto the couch then I moved to sit on the armrest, turning him away from me so I could massage his neck muscles. He was tense, and for good reason.

  This case was taking its toll on him both mentally and physically. I didn’t know how I could help besides just being there for him if he needed to talk. Or if he wanted a good neck rub. He leaned back against my lower legs and bent his head forward while I performed deep tissue massage on his neck, then down his back.

  After several minutes, I could feel his muscles relax, the tension dissipating with my kneading hands and fingers. He sat up and turned toward me, pulling me down toward the cushions of the couch, then covered me with his body and began kissing me as if today was the last time we’d ever see each other. He seemed ravenous, as if he couldn’t get enough of me. His tongue explored my mouth, his kisses flowed down my neck, moving to my breasts, biting my nipples through my shirt. Working his way back up to my lips, he suddenly stopped, looked me in the eyes, and said, “Do you know how much I’ve missed you, Brandy? I’ve wanted to call you, come and see you, every single day. I miss our talks. I miss just being with you.”

  “And I’ve missed you.”

  “Multiply that by a thousand and you’ll know how I’ve felt for weeks. I’ve wanted to make love to you since I saw you in Starbucks last March…It’s almost October.”

  “How about we go out on a date in a few weeks?” I suggested.

  He raised his eyebrows. “L’Orangerie? We could have a nice quiet meal.”

  I nodded. “Sounds perfect.”

  He stood up and was out the door before I got up off the couch. I was anxious to see him again—already.