She remembered sitting on the living room sofa with Nana between her and Marnie. It was an evening about a month after their parents’ deaths. She and Marnie were both crying because they still missed them so much. Nana put an arm around each of the girls and said, “It’s time for us to get on with our lives. I miss your parents too but they wouldn’t want us to sit around crying, now would they? They’ll never really be gone from us, you know. We’ll always have happy memories of them and we’ll keep them alive in our hearts.”
“Nana, you were always there for me,” Ann said. “Why did you have to die so suddenly?” She remembered that morning all too vividly.
She was a senior in high school. It was a school day and, as usual, she awoke to the buzzing of her alarm clock. Still groggy, she plodded down the hallway and into the kitchen, expecting to see her grandmother standing at the stove, preparing breakfast, as she did every morning. But Nana wasn’t there. The house was unusually quiet. Marnie must have already left for school, she reasoned. But where was Nana?
She hurried through the house, searching every room, looking for her. No Nana. She decided to check the last possible place. Maybe Nana decided to do some laundry, she thought. She went to the basement door and, when she opened it, she could hear that the dryer was running. She started down the stairs and screamed. Nana was lying flat on her back on the concrete floor. Her eyes were closed, her arms and legs were splayed unnaturally and there was a pool of blood around her head.
She raced down the steps. “Nana! Nana! Please wake up,” she pleaded, placing her fingers gently against her grandmother’s neck. Her pulse was very weak and she was unconscious but she was alive. Ann ran upstairs and called nine-one-one. Within minutes, she heard the wail of the sirens, coming closer and closer, but the paramedics were too late to save her beloved Nana. Just as they’d been too late to save her parents.
Tears welled up in Ann’s eyes. “Oh, Nana, I miss you so much!”
She could almost hear her grandmother’s voice, “Enough. Now, put on a happy face!”
She sighed. “Nana, I have some good news. I started my new job today and I think I’m going to like it. It’s a lot of filing and organizing which is okay but I also answer the phones which I really like doing. To tell the truth, as much as I love being with the kids, it felt good today to talk to grownups for a change. Most days, the only adult I talk to is Olivia and that’s usually only for a few minutes here and there.
“Anyway, I know you’d be proud of me. You always told me to ‘push through the fear’ and I did. I was so scared but I did it! Why is it so hard for me to try new things and why can’t I stand up for myself the way you always could? I wish so much that I could be more like you. Marnie and I are both named after you but she’s more like you than I am. She’s strong and confident and she definitely doesn’t take any guff from anyone. Dad always said you were ‘full of piss and vinegar.’” She laughed. “He meant it as a compliment, I know.”
She leaned back against the hard bench and closed her eyes. It was so quiet and peaceful here and the sun felt good on her face. It was nice to just “be” for a little while, to forget her worries and do nothing. If only life could be simpler, she thought. Why does everything have to be so complicated? Once again, Nana’s words popped into her head, ‘Put on a happy face.’ “I’ll try, Nana,” she said. “I’ll try.”
She glanced down at her wristwatch. “Oh my God!” She jumped up from the bench and blew a kiss toward her grandmother’s grave. “I love you, Nana,” she said. “But I’m late. I gotta go. See ya soon.”
She hurried home and, as she walked in the front door, Danielle called down to her, “We’re up here, Mom.”
Ann smiled as she climbed the stairs to the second floor. Once again, Olivia had saved the day. When she went in, she saw Danielle sprawled out on the sofa, reading the latest Harry Potter book. Olivia sat in her wheelchair next to Davey who was lying on the floor on his stomach, surrounded by stacks of photo albums.
“Mommy,” Davey said, glancing up at her, “come see what I’m doing.”
Ann knelt down beside him. “What are you looking at?”
“Pictures, old pictures. They’re all black and white; they didn’t have color in the olden days.”
Ann glanced over at Olivia, smiling and rolling her eyes. “In the olden days!”
Olivia chuckled. “You know what they say nowadays, Ann. ‘It is what it is.’”
“Look at Olivia when she was a little girl. And look at this one,” Davey said, flipping the pages of the album. “This is an incline. Is that right, Mrs. Berger?” he asked, looking up at Olivia.
Olivia nodded. “That’s right. Can you tell your mother what that’s called?” she asked, bending sideways and pointing to one of the photographs.
Davey grinned. “A streetcar! A ‘lectric streetcar! Boy, I sure wish we had streetcars now,” he said, wistfully. “It would be so cool to go up the incline on one. If we still had an incline, I mean.”
Ann laughed. “You sure look like you’ve been having a good time.” She turned to Olivia. “Thanks so much for watching the kids. I’m sorry I’m so late. Time kind of got away from me.”
“Well, don’t keep me in suspense. How was your first day?”
Ann smiled. “It was good. I think it’s going to work out. I’ll admit, after not working for so long, I was really nervous but it’s not that hard. I feel lucky to get this opportunity. And, I’m so grateful I have you to look after the kids. I hope you know how much I appreciate it. Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome but don’t you ever worry about these two,” Olivia said, nodding toward Danielle and Davey. “They’re welcome here anytime. Ann, you’re a bright, young woman. You can do anything you set your mind to. I think you underestimate yourself. You’re stronger, more capable, than you give yourself credit for.”
Ann could feel her face turning red. “Olivia, you’re an angel. I don’t know what I’d do without you. But you know what, we’d better get going. I’m sure Dani has homework and … .”
“Mom, I already did my homework,” Danielle interrupted, looking up from her book. “Can’t we stay a little longer?”
“Yeah, Mommy, I wanna stay,” Davey chimed in. “Please?”
Ann stood up. “I think we’ve taken up enough of Olivia’s time.”
“Please! Please! Please!” Davey chanted.
Olivia laughed. “Ann, it’s up to you. All I have is time. Why don’t you let them stay awhile? It’ll give you some time to yourself.”
Ann thought for a second. “Well, if you’re sure … okay.”
“Just let me know when you want them home,” Olivia said.
“Yippee!” Davey yelled. “We get to stay! Will you tell us some more stories?”
Olivia smiled. “I think that can be arranged.”
Ann waved good-bye and headed downstairs. Before going into her apartment, she stopped in the hall to pick up her mail. She let herself into the living room, dropped her purse on the coffee table and sat down on the sofa.
“Bill. Junk. Bill,” she said aloud as she leaned forward and separated the envelopes into neat stacks on the table. She picked up the small white envelope with her name neatly typed on it. “Love poem. I hope.” she said, recalling the strange Bible quote she’d gotten the day before. She opened the envelope and unfolded the paper. It was typed, like the others. “And he did that which was evil in the sight of the Lord, … as his fathers had done … . 2 Kings, 15:9.”
Chapter 24
ANN TORE UP THE SHEET OF PAPER with the strange biblical quote until the pieces were too small to tear and then she flushed the confetti-like paper down the toilet. She stood there, watching the water swirl in the bowl, making sure that all of the pieces were gone. Calm down and get busy, she told herself, as she walked into the living room and sat down at her sewing machine. She needed to finish Danielle’s fancy witch costume.
I can’t believe Lawrence wrote that note, she thought, or
the one I got yesterday. He’s always left love poems or sweet notes with the words from an old love song for me, never anything like this. Is this whole thing my fault? Did he think that I was leading him on? Did he perceive my being friendly and nice to him to mean that I was interested in him romantically? That’s not true. Still, what could’ve provoked him to write something so threatening to me? I haven’t behaved any differently toward him lately. I don’t understand what’s changed. What sins could the note be referring to? What sins does he think I’ve committed? she wondered.
No, she decided, there was no way Lawrence had written either of those notes. But, and this terrified her, if not Lawrence, then who? What did the biblical quote mean? Was it some kind of warning? Flashes of TV news stories and bits of conversation on the radio about the Westwood Strangler suddenly popped into her mind. Did the strangler leave written messages before killing his victims? She didn’t know. She silently berated herself for not paying more attention. Like most people, she’d always assumed that something like that would never happen to her. It always happened to someone else, a stranger.
What should I do? I can’t tell David because then I’d have to tell him about the other notes and poems and that would be humiliating for Lawrence and embarrassing for me. And, if David thought I was encouraging Lawrence in that way, he would be livid and I definitely don’t want to give him another reason to be angry with me. I know he’d confront Lawrence and, if he did, it would be so uncomfortable for us to live here that we’d have to move and I sure don’t want to move. I can’t call the police either because David would surely find out about that. But what else can I do? she silently wondered. When did I stop being able to confide in David? I used to be able to tell him anything.
Her hands shook as she fed the material for the witch’s hat under the needle. The machine made a steady whirring sound as she pushed her foot down on the pedal. Her thoughts drifted back to when she and David first met.
It was a few months after her grandmother died. Ann had just graduated from high school. Her sister, after getting her Bachelor’s Degree from the University of Cincinnati, had been accepted to Wake Forest University of Law and was planning to move to North Carolina before classes started in the Fall. Marnie had asked Ann to go with her but Ann decided that it was time to stop “tagging along” with her older sister. She knew that she needed to make a life of her own; she needed to find a job. The ad in the Western Hills Press, the area’s weekly newspaper, described a full-time position that sounded perfect for her.
She was nervous as she opened the front door to the West Side Insurance Agency. The receptionist, Ruth, a petite, gray haired woman of about sixty, looked up from her typing and greeted Ann with a smile.
“Hi,” Ann said. “I’d like to apply for the job in the paper.”
“Well, honey, you come with me.” She handed Ann a job application and ushered her to a small seating area. Ann filled out the form and waited for a few minutes before Ruth came back and showed her to the office of Mr. Langley, the office manager.
Stu Langley stood up from behind his desk and shook her hand. He was probably in his late fifties, Ann guessed, of average height and build with a slight paunch and a very definite receding hairline. He smiled, motioning for her to sit down, and began to look over her application. After a few minutes, he cleared his throat and peered at her over glasses that slid down past the bridge of his nose.
“So, this would be your first job?” he asked.
“Yes. I know I don’t have any experience but I’m willing to work hard and I’m very dependable,” she replied.
“I’m sure you are, Ann.” He pointed to her application. “I see that you’ve taken all business courses. No interest in going to college?”
“No. I never have. I guess my older sister is the student in the family. Ever since I can remember, she’s always had her nose stuck in a book.”
He laughed. “Well, that’s interesting but I think you are exactly the person we need to fill this position. How would you feel about starting on Monday?”
“Really? Yes. Absolutely!”
They shook hands again and Ann practically floated out of his office. She was so happy. As she passed the receptionist’s desk, she stopped to say goodbye to Ruth and there, leaning against a wall, was a handsome man with blondish hair. He reminded her of the actor, Robert Redford, when he was young, in the old movies she’d seen on TV.
“Well, Ann, how did it go?” Ruth asked.
“I can’t believe it. I got the job!” Ann replied, grinning.
“I knew you would. I could tell. Congratulations!”
The handsome man cleared his throat and Ruth laughed. “Ann, this is David Kern, one of our agents. David, Ann Malone. She’s going to be my new assistant.”
That was the beginning, Ann remembered. What started as flirting with each other in the office turned into lunches and then dinner dates and finally in David’s proposal of marriage. And here we are, all those years later, and our marriage is in serious jeopardy. What went wrong? she asked herself. Was it something I did or something I didn’t do?
She was so engrossed in her thoughts that she didn’t hear the kitchen door open and close or the sound of footsteps coming toward her.
She felt a hand on the side of her neck and screamed. In the space of a few seconds, so much went through her mind. Did she lock the back door or had she forgotten again? Her heart was hammering in her chest. Oh my God, she thought, is it the strangler? What should I do? Deciding that her only hope was to try to escape, she pushed herself up, ready to run out the front door when she heard his voice, David’s voice.
“Ann, what’s the matter? It’s me.”
She let out a long breath. Relief flooded through her. “Oh, my God, David, you scared me half to death!”
“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry,” he said. He brought his left arm from behind his back and handed her a bouquet of red roses. He bent down and brushed a gentle kiss across her cheek.
“Ann, I want to apologize. I’m so sorry about last night. Will you please forgive me?”
She looked into her husband’s blue eyes. Unbelievable, she thought, how dramatically and how quickly they could change. One minute they were calm and loving eyes but, when he flew into one of his rages, they could turn stone cold and hateful in an instant. The eyes are the mirrors of the soul, she couldn’t help thinking.
She took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. “David, I forgive you but we need to talk. We can’t go on like this. Your drinking … and your temper … .”
“I know. I know. I need to change. I will change. You’ll see. Just give me a chance. Please.” He took her hand in his. “I love you, Ann.”
“I love you too but … .”
The living room door swung open and Davey and Danielle charged into the room. “Mommy, I’m hungry!” Davey said.
“Mom, we waited for you to call but Davey started whining that he was starving so we came down,” Danielle said.
Ann looked up at the wall clock above the fireplace. “No wonder you’re hungry,” she said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was this late. Why don’t you two go in and change your clothes? I’ll have dinner ready before you know it.” She turned off the sewing machine, pushed her chair back and went into the kitchen, followed by David. She laid the roses on the counter and turned to him, “I’ll put these in water as soon as I get dinner started. They’re beautiful, David. Thank you.”
As she got the ingredients for dinner out, she couldn’t help wondering how much the roses had cost and where David had gotten the money to buy them. It’s not like we have extra money, she thought, but I can’t say anything or it’ll sound like I’m ungrateful and that would definitely make him angry. I sure don’t want that. I just want to keep the peace.
* * * *
David followed Ann into the kitchen and sat down at the table, watching her prepare dinner. Within a few minutes, she had rigatoni boiling in a pan, sauce simmering and the in
gredients for a salad on the counter. As she chopped green peppers, onions and tomatoes, David’s mind wandered back in time.
It wasn’t long after his father had left them. He was seven years old, sitting at the kitchen table, using watercolors to paint pictures in his Superman coloring book while his mother prepared dinner. She was slicing large, juicy red tomatoes and humming a tune as she worked. All of a sudden, his hand accidentally bumped the glass of water he used to clean his paintbrush. Water spilled all over the table. He reached for the glass but it tumbled off of the table, hit the floor and shattered. He jumped up, grabbed a dishtowel and began to wipe up the water that was ruining his coloring book and running onto the floor.
His mother rushed over, the knife held straight out in front of her, pieces of red tomato skin and juice dripping from the blade. She snatched the dishtowel from his hands. Shaking the knife at him, she screamed, “What do you think you’re doing? This is my good towel!”
He cowered on the other side of the kitchen table. “I’m sorry, Mother. I didn’t mean to do it. It was an accident. I’m sorry.”
“I’ll give you an accident!” she yelled. She lunged across the table at him. She switched the knife to her other hand, reached out and grabbed his shoulder and shook him. “You should have died instead of your brother. I can’t take this! Why do you have to cause me so much trouble? What’s wrong with you?”
Tears ran down the little boy’s face. “I’m so sorry. I’ll try harder, Mother. I’ll change. You’ll see. Just give me a chance. Please.”
“Go to your room! Now!” she screamed.
A couple of hours later, his mother came to his room. She was carrying a serving tray with a plate of food and a glass of milk. “Davey, after you finish your dinner, would you like a nice piece of apple pie? I made it just for you.” She patted the top of his head. “Mama just gets angry sometimes. You know I love you.”
She never did say she was sorry.
“David, do you want milk with dinner?” Ann’s voice interrupted David’s thoughts.
Mixed Messages (A Malone Mystery) Page 13
