1 Assault with a Deadly Glue Gun

by Lois Winston

  "Sorry I wasn't here when you arrived," I told him, "but I guess it really didn't matter, did it?" I said this last part as I glared at my sons.

  "What did we do?" asked Nick.

  "You tell me. We've had two break-ins in two days, and you let a total stranger into the house? What's wrong with this picture?"

  "What stranger?" asked Alex. "He's our new tenant."

  "And exactly how did you know that?"

  "Because he said so."

  "Well, then, my apologies. He said so. And with that every safety lesson ever drummed into the two of you flies out the window."

  "Jeez, Mom. Chill"

  "Chill, Nick? You let a stranger into our home, and you're telling me to chill?"

  "You told us his name," said Alex, coming to his brother's defense.

  "Did you ask to see ID?"

  Of course not. I could tell by their expressions.

  "Did it ever occur to you to pick up that handy gadget Mr. Alexander Bell invented and call your mother before opening the door to a total stranger?"

  They both mumbled something I couldn't make out.

  "Is my life not complicated enough lately, guys? Do I have to worry that you two have been abducted by aliens and returned minus your Common Sense Genes?"

  "Honestly, Anastasia, I think you're over-reacting just a little bit, don't you?" said Mama. She flashed one of her Flora-on-theprowl-for-a-new-husband smiles at Zack. "After all, how could anyone with such an honest face not be who he says he is?"

  "I give up!" I turned to Zack, "Mama says you have an honest face, so mi casa es su casa."

  "Sorry," he said. "It never occurred to me that I'd be igniting a world war, but you're right. Your sons shouldn't have let me in, not without first asking to see ID. I guess I figured if you had to go out, you would've mention I'd be coming."

  "Frankly, I forgot you were coming," I said. "It's been a little crazy around here since I got home."

  "So I hear. Two break-ins?"

  Here it comes. A perfect excuse to pull out. With all his expensive camera equipment, I'm sure the last thing he wanted was an apartment in a burgeoning crime zone. "That's right. Two breakins. In two days. So I guess you've changed your mind and now want out of our agreement?"

  "Did I say that?"

  He hadn't, but I figured it was only a matter of moments until he did.

  "What kind of security precautions are you taking?" he asked.

  "Two-by-fours across the basement windows."

  He laughed. The man actually laughed at me. "Two-by-fours? You've got to be kidding. That's not going to stop someone bent on getting in."

  "It's all I can afford. I plan to bolt them to the walls, not nail them. That should do the trick."

  "Mom, Zack said he could install spy cameras for us," said Nick.

  "Mr. Barnes," I corrected. "I guess along with sucking the common sense out of you, the aliens also made off with your

  "He said we could call him Zack."

  I turned to the hunk in question.

  "As long as you don't mind," he said.

  "Fine. If you don't mind, I don't mind." I had bigger battles to fight. "Did you finish your homework?" I asked my sons.

  "Sort of," said Nick.

  "Almost," said Alex. "Zack said he's got all sorts of cool equipment, Mom."

  "Very cool equipment," said Mama, back in Elizabeth Taylor mode and letting her gaze drink in Mr. Perfection.

  "Mama!"

  Zack had the decency to blush. Knowing Mama, the conversation would only get more X-rated from here. I turned to Alex and Nick. "Homework."

  "Just when we're about to get to the good stuff," complained Nick.

  I pointed toward their bedroom. "Now."

  As they reluctantly headed down the hall, Mama continued her full frontal assault. "Can I assume the apartment is for you and you alone, Zack, dear?"

  "Told you so," grumbled Nick. "We never get to stick around for the good stuff."

  "Just me," Zack answered, trying to keep from laughing. It didn't take a PhD in psychology to realize he was enjoying this farce way too much.

  Mama batted her lashes. I wondered if any of the local amateur theaters were casting a senior citizen version of A Streetcar Named Desire. Mama would make a perfect sexagenarian Blanche DuBois. "No wife?" she said. "How is that possible, a good-looking man like you?"

  Good Lord, couldn't she at least wait until Seamus had turned into a worm banquet before casting her husband-catching net upon the available waters? The woman had absolutely no shame.

  Or maybe she was just scared to be alone and without a man in her life. As embarrassed as my mother made me at times, I did feel sorry for what was turning into an endless streak of bad luck for her. Ever since my father had died, whenever Mama gave away her heart, fate threw her a curve ball.

  "I was married once," said the overly-accommodating available man in question. "It didn't work out."

  "And no significant other?" continued the Cross Examiner from Hell.

  "Not at the present."

  "No children?"

  "Wasn't married long enough."

  It was time for me to step in as the adult in this situation. "You don't have to humor her," I told Zack. "And as for you, Mama, enough with the Flora Inquisition."

  Then I turned back to Zack and in my mind, the more pressing issue. "You're welcome to install whatever you want for the apartment. At your own expense."

  "I intend to, but I'd be happy to fix you up with some equipment, too. We could catch this guy red-handed if he returns."

  "So you still want to move in?"

  "Why are you finding that so hard to believe?"

  "You'll have to forgive my daughter," said Mama. "She's not into men."

  "Mama!"

  "Hey, whatever floats your boat," said Zack. "I don't pass judgments."

  But was that a flicker of disappointment I saw streak across his face or just my own imagination shifting into overdrive?

  "I'm not a lesbian!" I said.

  "Well, honestly, Anastasia! Whatever would make you say such a thing?"

  "You just implied-"

  "I implied no such thing."

  "But it's good to know," said Zachary Barnes. He winked. Winked! What was that all about? "Want some help putting up those two-by-fours before I leave?"

  Did I ever! But declining seemed a more appropriate response at the moment.

  Unfortunately, Mama beat me to the punch. "We'd love your help, wouldn't we, dear?

  "Oh, and by the way, speaking of lesbians-"

  "We weren't speaking of lesbians, Mama."

  "Of course we were, dear. You brought the subject up. Don't you remember?"

  "I give up!"

  Mama turned back to Zack. "As I was saying, speaking of lesbians, you're not gay, are you, Zack dear? That's not why your marriage ended, was it? Not that I have anything against gays, mind you. Anastasia's cousin-by-marriage Lawrence Goldberg is gay, and he's a lovely young man, isn't he, Anastasia?"

  "Sure, Mama. Larry's the salt of the earth, but Zachary's sex life is none of your business. Can it."

  "I was only making conversation, dear. No need to get all huffy. I still say you need a vacation. This stress is getting to you."

  What was I going to do with her?

  Was Flora Sudberry Periwinkle Ramirez Scoffield Goldberg O'Keefe setting her sights on becoming Flora Sudberry Periwinkle Ramirez Scoffield Goldberg O'Keefe Barnes? Or was she trolling for a new son-in-law? I'd have to read my mother the Riot Act before she went to bed tonight. Meanwhile, I guess I was getting some help with those studs-from a stud.

  "You realize this is a safety hazard, don't you?" asked Zack. Using Karl's electric drill, he fastened a bolt through one end of the twoby-four I held, securing it to the concrete wall alongside one of the six basement windows. "It may even be a building code violation"

  "How so?"

  "What if there were a fire and you were trapped in the basement. You'd have
no way to get out."

  "If the fire were upstairs, I'd have time to grab the drill and free up one of the windows."

  "What if the fire started from the furnace exploding?" he asked.

  I glanced across the room and frowned at the furnace. "I didn't think of that."

  He gave me one of those looks men reserve for women whom they think aren't as smart as they are. I really, really hate that look.

  I thought for a moment, then shrugged. "If the furnace exploded, I'd either be severely injured or dead, so it wouldn't matter. Either way, I'd be in no condition to climb out a window, bolted or not."

  He moved to the other end of the two-by-four and set about attaching the second bolt. "Now that's a pleasant thought. Do you always look at the glass half empty?"

  "Actually, up until last week I always assumed it was half full."

  "What changed your mind?"

  "My husband died and left me with a parting surprise-not a dime to my name and a secret mountain of debt."

  He stopped drilling and turned to face me. "Jeez, I didn't know. For some reason I just assumed you'd been divorced for a few years. And here I've been-"

  Dare I say it? "Flirting?"

  He gave me one of those little-boy-caught-with-his-hand-inthe-cookie-jar looks. "Human nature for a red-blooded male. I'm sorry.

  "No need to apologize," I told him. "I'm flattered. And my ego thanks you for the much needed stroking. It's not every day a slightly overweight, middle-aged working mom receives attention from someone who's been in People magazine."

  "Those were nothing but photo ops instigated by a money hungry publicist and a well-positioned photographer on his payroll."

  "Hey, I could strip down to my undies and strum a guitar in Times Square. I doubt I'd make it into People magazine."

  He eyed me head to toe, and I felt the heat rushing to my cheeks. "You never know."

  "You're still doing it," I said, but I couldn't keep from chuckling. Zachary Barnes had a way of making me forget the shit swirling around me, even though we were talking about that very shit.

  "I figured your ego wouldn't mind. But you're right. I'm a jerk"

  I shrugged. "Forget it. Shit happens. I just never expected it to happen to me."

  "These break-ins certainly haven't helped," he said. "You've sure had your share of bad luck lately."

  "You have no idea." No way was I going to tell him about Ricardo and Marlys. I'd probably said more than I should already, but something about Zack Barnes made me feel safe in opening up to him. To a point.

  We moved to the next window. "By the way," I said. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention the debt thing to my kids. I haven't told them yet. I wanted to give them time to deal with their father's death first."

  "No problem. I'm good at keeping secrets"

  "So while you were waiting for me to come home, my sons and mother didn't tell you every single detail of my life, down to the color of my toothbrush and whether I have an innie or an outie?" Or that I found a dead body in my office Monday night and the police think I killed her?

  He grinned. "Nothing about a toothbrush, but there was some mention of an innie."

  "You're doing it again."

  "But you haven't whacked me with one of those two-by-fours yet, so I figure your ego still needs some attention."

  "That's totally not fair, you know."

  He screwed in another bolt. "How so?"

  "Because thanks to my bigmouthed sons and mother, you now know so much about me-"

  "And you think it's only fair to have an even playing field?"

  "Exactly."

  "You're right. Equality among the sexes." He moved to the other side of the window and secured the second bolt. "I guess I should admit that I, too, have an innie."

  "Great. I feel so much better knowing that about you, Zachary Barnes"

  "Okay," he said as we moved to the third window. "I'll tell you a couple of other things."

  "They don't have anything to do with unexposed body parts, do they? Because if so, I'll pass."

  "No body parts, exposed or otherwise."

  "And nothing that will embarrass me?"

  "That I can't guarantee. But I don't think so"

  "Oh, you're good. Tease me just enough that I have to know. So what are these two things?"

  He fastened another bolt before speaking. "I think your kids are pretty cool, Anastasia Pollack. And your mother's a hoot." He turned to look at me. "Was she really coming on to me?"

  I laughed. "Can't get anything past you."

  "You'll find I'm a very observant person."

  "Mama somehow managed to be born without the Subtle Gene. She's on the prowl for her next husband. Take that as a friendly warning.

  "As flattered as I am, I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint her."

  "How surprising."

  "Think she'll be heartbroken?"

  "For at least forty-eight hours. That's about as long as it should take her to set her sights on my next potential future stepfather."

  AFTER ZACK LEFT I headed for Alex and Nick's room. The time had come for the family talk I'd put off since learning of Karl's deceit. Both Lucille and Mama already knew what Karl had done. Sooner or later one of them was bound to let something slip.

  Better the boys heard the truth from me. Minus the Ricardo chapter. I figured one member of the family scared out of her wits was already one too many. Alex and Nick were still trying to come to terms with their father's death. Dumping abject poverty on them was enough of an added whammy without them having to worry about some threat-hurling low-life scum stalking us.

  "How could Dad do this to us?" asked Nick. He pounded his fist so hard on his desk that his wireless keyboard went flying. Luckily, it landed on the bed.

  "Sorry," he mumbled.

  "Try to control yourself. We can't afford any repair bills right now. Or new computer equipment."

  I placed my hand on his shoulder. His most recent growth spurt had added another two inches to his lanky frame, which now hovered just shy of the magic six-foot mark. Both boys had inherited their father's good looks, but Nick, still suffering from the gawkiness of adolescence, had yet to grow into his.

  At first the boys greeted my pronouncement of destitution with stunned silence. It took awhile for the news to sink in. Then their silence transformed to anger, and Nick had taken his out with his fist.

  "What about college?" asked Alex.

  Time for me to harness a Scarlett O'Hara moment: As God is my witness, I'll scrub floors if I have to. But floor scrubbers don't make enough to pay Harvard tuition and neither do editors of secondrate women's magazines. My salary would cover monthly bills, but there would be little left to dig us out of the debt Karl had plunged us into, let alone pay for college.

  Still, I couldn't leave my kids without hope, no matter how slim. "Scholarships. Loans. Part-time jobs."

  Who was I kidding? Harvard was over forty grand a year. Even the reasonably priced local community college now loomed out of reach, but somehow we'd manage. I just needed to figure out a game plan.

  "Goddamn fucking asshole!" yelled Alex. "That selfish bastard's ruined my life!"

  I didn't blame him for the outburst, and now was not the time to reprimand him about his language. I knew he loved his father, but he felt betrayed. He'd worked hard to achieve his dream. His grades proved that, but his parents hadn't held up their end of the bargain.

  He turned his anger on me. "Damn it, Mom, how could you let this happen?"

  My eyes welled up with tears that I fought back with a loud snuffle. "I don't know. I'm sorry."

  The damning truth was, I should have known. I'd been kicking myself twenty-four/seven since learning of Karl's deception.

  With a full-time job, two kids' schedules to juggle, and a mental block when it came to anything remotely mathematical, I had gratefully accepted Karl's offer to handle the family finances. Hell, I never even bothered to glance at our 1040s each year, just blindly signed my
name to the bottom of the first page of the tax form and handed it back to him.

  Karl had handled our finances, all right. Manhandled them into non-existence. Now we were all suffering because of my lamebrain idea that a wife should be able to trust her husband. What was I thinking?

  "Are we going to lose the house?" asked Nick in almost a whisper.

  "I don't know. I hope not."

  "How bad is it, really?" asked Alex.

  "Really bad."

  "Fuck!"

  "But I have a few ideas. We'll make it through this. Somehow. I promise."

  Alex wrapped his arm around my shoulders. The hostility drained from his face. "Okay. I suppose this is one of those spilled milk times, right? Nothing's going to change what's been done, so we need to make the best of it and move on, yada-yada-yada?" He didn't sound like he was all that convinced.

  "Trust me, if crying could solve our problems, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

  "So what can we do to help?"

  "Yeah, just say the word," added Nick. "We'll pitch in any way we can.

  That's what I'd been hoping to hear. I'd expected angry outbursts, blame placing, and sullenness that would last weeks, if not months, before they finally accepted this additional cataclysmic shift in our lives. Their maturity in light of the situation swelled my heart.

  "Will we have to give up cable?" asked Nick.

  So much for maturity. Maybe the reality hadn't completely sunk in yet. "Definitely."

  He frowned, then shrugged. "I suppose I can live without ESPN." He cast a sideways glance at me, his eyes hopeful. "If I really have to."

  Poor kid. A fate worse than death for a teenager who lived sports round the clock. "You really have to. The Internet connection goes, too." Between the two, I'd save over a hundred and fifty dollars a month.

  "Mom!" They both jumped on me at once.

  "I'll get a paper route. A job at McDonald's," said Nick. "I need the Internet."

  "And when will you have time for school, homework, and sports?" I paused for a moment and eyed him. Nick spent far too much time online as it was, and he knew that I knew it. Maybe doing without some things wasn't such a bad thing, at least not from this parent's perspective.