Secondhand Sinners

by Genevieve Lynne

  “It's okay. Emily likes me, and I like her. She's going to stay around, isn't she?”

  Miller pulled into the school's driveway. “I think she might. For a while, anyway.”

  Afterwards, Miller drove to the grocery store and picked up a bouquet of daisies, a cantaloupe, and a dozen eggs to make Emily a nice breakfast. He realized she may not want to use his shampoo and soap, so he went to the shampoo aisle hoping to find some of that fragrant spearmint stuff she used.

  He stood there scanning the shelves of bottles with no idea where to begin. There were a lot more choices for women than men. He didn't even know what brand Abby used. He never paid attention to what she picked out. He lifted a bottle off the shelf, flipped the lid open, and inhaled a heavy floral scent. Yuck, no. He put it back and picked up another bottle. It smelled like strawberries. Nope. Not bad, though. He'd come back to that one if he couldn't find what he was looking for.

  Miller put the fifth bottle back on the shelf when Jerri, the only woman on the Bokchito police force, approached him and gave him a piece of paper.

  “What is this?”

  “It’s from Levi.”

  “Since when did BPD become a messaging service?”

  “I just got off work, and I know you take your daughter to school every day. It was on my way home.”

  “So you followed me because you felt like helping out an attempted murderer?”

  “I went to school with Levi. He was nice to me.” She wheeled around and left.

  He unfolded the paper and read the note:

  Haven’t used my phone call yet. I might callthe school and talk to Abby.

  Miller would’ve liked nothing more than to call his bluff…like Levi would know the number to the school. However, there it was, that familiar number he’d memorized years ago, scrawled out in Levi’s handwriting. Dammit. He paid for what was in his cart and sped home, wishing he could have had another day—and another night—with Emily before telling her what he'd done.

  The tires on his truck threw gravel as he raced down the road to his house. With every pothole he hit, he cursed Levi and tightened his grip on the bag of groceries next to him. He cringed at the thought of explaining it all to Emily, telling her how her grandfather, the only person in her family who seemed to give a damn about her, showed up at his place because she had told him everything, including the fact that she wanted to give her baby up for adoption. He wanted to give Miller the chance to raise his own baby instead of letting Emily send her off to be raised by strangers. He said he thought it was the right thing to do. He wanted to be sure his great-grandchild was well taken care of—something he’d failed to do for Emily.

  After all this time, especially after last night, Miller had to find a way to tell Emily. Abby is your daughter. Your own grandfather gave her to me because you told him she was mine. By the way, you can stop lying about being pregnant with my baby because I know she’s Daniel's.

  When he agreed to take Abby, he thoroughly believed she was his. His hope was shot to hell when Abby tested positive for Wilson’s, the same rare genetic blood disease Daniel had.

  He wondered if Emily noticed how much Abby resembled Daniel when she smiled and how she looked like her when she bit her bottom lip. At first, he thought it’d be impossible for Emily not to see it. Somehow, at their first meeting in the police station, she showed no hint of recognition. Then again, she wasn’t looking for it, was she?

  It didn't matter whose biological child Abby was, he was her father. However, it would devastate Abby to find out he had been lying to her all her life. She was so devastated when Sara left that she ended up with a bout of depression. He would do anything to keep her from hurting again. Including telling Emily the truth.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Emily

  Emily picked up her cup of coffee and went downstairs to check on Jack. “Hey, there,” she said, looking for any sign that he was aware of what he walked in on in Miller’s bedroom.

  Jack stared at the TV, blinking and delivering a cartoon cow's lines two seconds before he said them.

  “What are you watching?”

  “Cow and Chicken. They have the same mom.”

  If there was a hell for letting your kid watch too much stupid TV, she was surely going. Jack hadn't had a single fit since they got to Bokchito. The familiarity of his TV shows probably had a lot to do with that. Still, she needed to get him onto some kind of schedule. The cartoons would lose their magic and she would have to start using his B12 shots. Now that she’d already missed a few doses, they might not even work.

  “When this is over, we're going to turn the TV off.” Jack didn't respond so she asked, “Okay?”

  He sighed. “Okay.”

  “I need more coffee. I’ll be in the kitchen. Okay?”

  “Okay. Okay. Okay.”

  Emily refilled her mug with coffee and doctored it with the milk and sugar she found. She sat at the table and pondered her next move, something that normally required anti-anxiety drugs surging through her bloodstream. She wondered what she’d have done if she had medication the night Daniel died. There’d been no time to think, only react. Her life had been like that ever since—one reaction after another. Each decision always seemed more urgent and consequential than the last one.

  Thinking of Daniel and that awful night made her sad. Even now, fourteen years later, the smallest, most mundane thing could bring back that entire night in such detail that she could feel his breath on her cheek when he said the last thing he’d ever say to her: “I’m sorry.” She could hear Verna’s screams when the doctors came out and told her her son was gone. She could still smell the bleach.

  Emily got up and started to wash the dishes in the sink, hoping to trick her mind into thinking about something else besides Daniel. She wanted to be happy and hopeful, which only made her feel guilty all over again. If she’d done a better job of protecting him, he’d still be alive.

  Would he be happy, though? People with untreated Wilson’s were prone to erratic behavior. Once, after Daniel went a week without his medicine because Hoyt blew his paycheck at the bar, he started a fight with Justin Folsom after a football game. Daniel sucker punched the poor guy because he said he didn’t like country music. Broke Justin’s nose. Then Hoyt nearly broke Daniel’s when he beat him over it.

  After that, Emily always made sure he had a way to get his medicine and even stole money and jewelry from Ma'am a few times help him pay for it. It wasn’t because she wanted to keep him out of trouble. She hated to see him deal with the guilt of hurting someone.

  She was washing syrup off a plate when the phone rang. Out of habit and a little bit of curiosity, she looked on the phone on the wall to check the caller ID: W&W MECHANIC. She went back to washing off the dishes, and after two more rings, the answering machine clicked on and a man’s voice filled the room.

  “Yo, Miller! Heads up, man. Emily’s back in town. I got into work and Vicky said the ladies at the salon caught a glimpse of her coming out the police station the other day. Said she looks terrible. Thought you might like to know that little detail. Had some kind of a retard-kid with her.”

  Emily froze, staring at the offensive answering machine. Retard, huh?

  “No one knows where she’s staying, which makes me think she’s somewhere out there on her family’s property. I was hoping to get a hold of you before you went out there and ran into the bitch.”

  Bitch? Who was this guy? Clearly someone who knew she and Miller had a history. For him to know that, Miller would have had to tell him. It didn’t sound like Miller had painted a very flattering picture of her.

  “So anyway,” the voice continued, “I heard she was in town, and I thought you should know. What was that you used to say back in the day?”

  What? What did he used to say?

  “Play your cards right, man, and you might get a chance to give a little shit back to her. Don’t let her get under your skin, though. I’m too old to come haul your ass out of b
ars anymore. Hehehehehe. God, those were the days, eh?”

  There was a click and the machine let out a busy signal for a few seconds then went silent.

  Wow. Emily stood in the middle of the room and stared at the blinking light on the answering machine. Her first thought was, Who the hell has an answering machine anymore? Her second thought was that Miller must have really hated her after she left. She always suspected it, but yeah…that was tough to hear. A part of her was glad the man on the answering machine didn’t repeat what it was Miller used to say about her. Of course he must’ve said things about her. If he loved her, and she was sure that he did, he would have been upset after she left.

  After she left.

  “Oh man,” she whispered as she pressed her palm to her forehead at the spot where a headache was forming. “He was alone. We abandoned him.”

  “What’s ‘abandoned’?”

  Emily took a second to tamp down her guilt. “It’s when someone is left alone.”

  “Like when you abandoned me in the living room to come in here?”

  “Something like that. What are doing?”

  “Cow and Chicken is over. You said to turn it off.”

  Jack’s hair was sticking out all over the place. His face was smeared with syrup. He had dirt underneath his nails. “You’re filthy. You need a shower.”

  “Yes.” He did a fist pump and ran for the back door. “I’ll get the soap and you get the hose!”

  “No way.” She grabbed him and held him back. “Water from a hose is too cold for a shower. We’ll use Miller’s bathroom.”

  He said, “Cool!” and ran up the stairs.

  ***

  Emily stood outside Miller’s shower with a towel and listened to Jack recite the latest commercial that was looping through his head: “There are some things money can’t buy. For everything else, there’s MasterCard.”

  “Hurry up, Jack. Don’t use up all the hot water.”

  “Two more times. There are some things money can’t buy. For everything else, there’s MasterCard. There are some things money can’t buy. For everything else, there’s MasterCard. There are some things—”

  “That was two. Time to get out.”

  The water shut off, and Jack pulled the shower curtain back. His hair was full of suds.

  “Why didn’t you wash the shampoo out of your hair?”

  “You said it was time to get out.”

  “Okay.” Emily turned the water back on. “You have one minute to rinse the shampoo out of your hair.”

  Jack got in and closed the shower curtain. “There are some things money can’t buy. For everything else, there’s MasterCard. There are some things money can’t buy. For everything else, there’s MasterCard. There are some things money can’t buy. For everything else, there’s MasterCard.”

  The water cut off again, and the curtain slid open.

  “All done?”

  “All done.”

  She helped him dry off and left him in the bathroom to put his clothes back on. They were filthy too. She’d ask Miller to take her to Levi’s as soon as he got back. She should probably offer to drive herself into town in case he needed to get some work done. She hoped he didn’t need to get any work done.

  Emily made the bed and then sat on the side where Jack slept. As she studied the books that were stacked up on top of the table, she couldn’t help but smile. Tom Clancy. Such a manly collection of books. She picked up the top book on the stack and opened it. Tucked inside the front flap was a folded piece of yellowing paper. She took it out, unfolded it, and gasped.

  “Oh my God.”

  It was a sketch she had drawn of the barn where she and Miller used to go, the one that was now filled with Levi’s scrap metal and taped off with crime scene tape. She looked on the back. ‘April 7th, Emily and Miller forever’ was still there in her handwriting. She really was a naive kid. Naive and in love. She’d sketched it in April of their junior year, when the blue-eyed grass was at its prettiest purple, on one of those warm afternoons when she lied to her parents about where she was going. It wasn’t the first day she met Miller out there. April 7th was the first time they made love. It was the first time for both of them. She smiled at the memory that was so vivid she could smell the warm spring air. That was a good day.

  He kept that picture by his bed. Emily wondered if she was reading too much into the fact that he hid it inside a book titled Without Remorse. She liked to think he did that intentionally, that he held no remorse about their time together, because that meant he was past the hurt that made him say whatever he used to say about her to the idiot on the answering machine who called her son “some kind of retard.”

  “All done!” Jack called out and opened the bathroom door.

  She looked up. “XYZ, buddy. And your shirt is on backward.”

  She looked at the next book on the stack, The Sum of All Fears, picked it up, and opened it slowly. There was another folded piece of paper. She opened it. Inside was a sketch she made of Daniel months before he died. She’d given that picture to Daniel. How did Miller get it? He must have been the one to clean out Daniel's room. Emily had a quick mental image of Miller alone in Daniel's room, packing what was left of his best friend into boxes. She should have been there to help him. Instead, she abandoned him. She couldn’t do that to him, wouldn’t do that to him again. However, she couldn’t stop herself from wondering if Miller had anything else of Daniel’s she could look at, touch, and hold close for a few minutes.

  Emily put the paper with Daniel's face on it back in the book and slapped the front cover shut. She wanted to take a shower, get cleaned up, and then try to make up for leaving Miller so long ago.

  If that was even possible.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Miller

  When Miller got home, he put the bag of groceries in the sink and found Jack right where he left him, on the sofa watching TV. “Where’s your mom?” he asked.

  “Well I’ll be damned, she’s taking a shower.”

  Should he go up there or wait for Emily to come down? She probably wouldn’t go ballistic in front of Jack. If he didn’t say it within the next few minutes, he’d lose his nerve. Again. He took the stairs two at a time, tapped lightly on his bedroom door, and went in. Emily was in his bathroom, standing in front of his sink drying her hair with a towel, wearing her shorts and another one of his t-shirts. It hurt him to see how natural she looked in his world. She should have been there for the last fourteen years.

  She smiled when she saw him. “I put on another clean t-shirt. I hope that’s okay.”

  “I stopped at the store for some breakfast groceries.”

  “Thank God. I’m starving.” She hung the towel on the hook by the shower and raised up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “I’ll cook.” She started for the door, but Miller took her hand. “What?” she asked, looking at her wrist where his hand cuffed it and then back to his face. “What’s wrong? Is it Abby?”

  Miller nodded.

  “Is she upset about last night? Did she say something?”

  He shook his head.

  “Then what?” Emily briefly looked back to where he had a firm grasp on her wrist. “You’re scaring me. What’s wrong? Is it my dad? Is it Levi?”

  Miller was glad she could read him so well even after all these years because now he had no other choice. He had to throw her into the truth and see if she would sink or swim. “Let’s sit.” He led her to the bed and sat next to her, her hand in his.

  “What is it?”

  “I know you didn’t have an abortion.”

  “Oh.” Emily’s hair fell over her face as she hung her head.

  “You called your grandfather after you got to Texas. You told him about us and that you were pregnant with my child, so he came to Dallas and put you up in a hotel for the night. Then he found you an apartment.”

  “He took care of me. I’ve only told two other people that. Did Levi tell you?”

  “Chester told me
.”

  “I asked him not to.”

  “Well he did.”

  She didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to. Her trembling hand in his spoke for her.

  “Your family…they hurt you, didn’t they?”

  “Yes.”

  “What did they do?”

  “I don’t talk about that.”

  While Miller wanted to know what happened to her, he knew pushing her would get him nowhere because she would shut down. He needed to confess. He was about to lose his nerve again. “Your grandfather told you to tell your parents you had an abortion. That was a lie, wasn’t it?”

  “It was.”

  “I wish you would’ve trusted me.”

  Still looking down, Emily said, “It’s not that I didn’t trust you. I didn’t trust me. You had a real life to look forward to, and I would’ve been a burden. Why did Granddaddy tell you?”

  “He said he thought I should know the truth.”

  “That sounds like him, always trying to do the right thing, always trying to smooth things over. Did he tell you why I did it? Did he explain it?”

  “No. He didn’t.”

  She squeezed his hand tighter. “I wanted the baby to be as far away from my family as possible. They didn’t want me to have her, and they were going to do something that would’ve harmed her. Granddaddy said he knew a good person who would take good care of her, and it was best if I let him work out all the details. He handled everything. He was supposed to tell me where she was on her eighteenth birthday. Then he had that heart attack. No one called me to say goodbye to him. I didn’t even find out he was dead until after his funeral. That’s why I haven’t come home to say goodbye to Ma'am. It’s the only way I know to punish her for keeping me from him. I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am for leaving and keeping you away from her, but I know Granddaddy found the best home for her. I’m sure she’s very happy.” Emily’s voice cracked when she said, “I hope she is.”