Book Read Free

Unconditional

Page 19

by Connie Keenan

Three youths were arrested on Monday night, charged with the crime of robbing the Sunshine Mini Mart at gunpoint, the West Caldwell Police Department said.

  Daniel Badger, 19, and Steven Fontaine, 18, from Dover, brandished guns as they entered the store and left with over six hundred dollars from the register. Joshua Coleman, 18, from Parsippany, was outside in Badger’s car. The three suspects were apprehended by police. Both marijuana and ecstasy were found during a search of the vehicle.

  “I was ringing up a customer when two young guys walked in,” Charlene Temple, the clerk on duty that night, said. “I could tell they were nervous. They screamed at me to give them all the money from the register or they’d kill me.”

  According to police, no one was injured during the robbery, though Badger suffered minor cuts and bruises when Coleman plowed the car into a guard rail during the chase.

  “They weren’t even going that fast,” Police Chief Richard Dryden said. “There was no trace of drugs in the driver’s blood, no alcohol. It was like the kid wanted to get caught…”

  “What’re you reading?”

  Hastily, Valerie clicked out of the internet browser. She pushed her laptop shut.

  “Nothing. Wasting time on Facebook,” she told her mother, praying inwardly, Sorry for the lie, Lord.

  “Oh, I think the whole internet is a waste of time,” Mom sighed.

  Linda Cuthbertson wasn’t staying long. She had the day off from work and had passed by to bring her daughter a plastic container full of her favorite cookies, which she’d baked the night before. Mom never just breezed in and out; she’d lingered for a bit, helping herself to a cup of coffee before getting a call from a friend. She’d chatted out on the terrace while Valerie checked out that link Kylie had sent her.

  “You’re going to regale me with your tales of the horse-and-buggy days?” Valerie teased. “You know, i.e. your days when you were my age?”

  “No, smarty pants. Your old and decrepit mother isn’t going to do that. I stayed long enough. You have to get ready to go out tonight.” Coming up from behind her daughter at the kitchen table, she gave Valerie a hug. “So where’s Josh taking you tonight?”

  “I don’t know. It’s a surprise. We’re celebrating.”

  “Celebrating? Celebrating what?”

  “The fact that he asked me to go out with him…and I said yes.”

  Her mother giggled, evidently finding that news cute.

  “So does this mean you and Zed are through for good?”

  “That’s exactly what that means, Mom.” Before placing the container on the baker’s rack, Valerie helped herself to one of the homemade chocolate chip cookies. “You know, I still love Zed…but not like that. It’s almost like he had a spell on me all these years, and that’s why I kept going back to him, but now the spell is broken. I care about him. I always will, but I’m ready to move on, finally.”

  “You don’t know how happy that makes me to hear that, honey. I’ve been praying for that spell to be broken for a long time.”

  Her mother often brought over one of her travel bottles, this one filled with water and those droplets of flavor she liked to add to make the water tastier. This time she’d filled it with what she called “sassy water,” which that evening was water poured over ice, flavored with slices of apple and a cinnamon stick. Sassy water was an alternative to diet soda, sort of an addiction of Mom’s. She grabbed the bottle from the counter where she’d left it.

  “What’s even better is that you’re with a nice, decent guy, who’s also a Christian,” Linda said. “I hope things work out great for you two. I like him a lot.”

  “Do you? I’m glad he meets your approval.” Valerie laughed, but she was only half joking.

  “He does. I know you’re the only one who has to like him, but it helps when your mother doesn’t have to watch a man take you for granted and hurt you. If a man respects you, if he treats you with love and kindness, that’s what I care about.” Mom hugged her and kissed her forehead. “Go get ready. I love you, sugar baby.”

  “Love you, too, Mom.”

  You’re a mama’s girl.

  Zed used to tell her that all the time. Good-naturedly he’d say it, because that wasn’t something the man had said to be mean-spirited. Naturally, that was hard for Zed O’Neill to understand. His relationship with both of his parents had always been strained, particularly with his father who had, just like Valerie’s dad, never taken much of an interest when it came to fatherhood.

  He hadn’t been too interested in being a husband, either, come to think of it. Valerie had never understood how her mother had gotten together with a man like her father. Randolph Welch, even in his youth, had never been all that attractive, though according to her mother he’d had a dry sense of humor and wit. To the young woman Linda Cuthbertson had been, Randolph had seemed like such an interesting and intelligent man.

  Valerie stepped into her bathroom to shower. She reflected on how different her parents had been in their younger years. She could understand what her father had seen in her mother. After all, Linda was the quintessential all-American girl. Lovely, well groomed, a baton twirler in high school who also sang in the choir and performed in every school play that came along. She was outgoing, funny, charming and full of life…right up until she became pregnant at the age of nineteen.

  Then your grandfather pushed us into getting married. But your father never wanted me for a wife.

  And he was even more bewildered as to what to do with a tiny baby girl.

  Fresh out of her shower, Valerie pulled on her robe and dried her hair. Then, at her bedroom closet, she stood deciding between a flowery, summery sundress and a pair of Capris and a lime green tank top. She chose the sundress.

  I always thought I would marry my high school sweetheart. But we had broken up. He did come back, but by then I was married to your dad. I broke his heart and mine.

  The heart that had been broken belonged to Drew Lingerfelt. The man who, much to Valerie’s delight, had recently returned to her mother’s life. They had spent more years apart than they’d shared together, but they were together again now.

  Her father was an ambitious man who had ruthlessly climbed the corporate ladder in an investment banking firm. Yet that hadn’t happened until after he had Linda served with divorce papers. They had been married for only about a year and a half. His lawyer had seen to it that he was obligated solely to pay a child support of five hundred dollars per month, but not alimony to Linda.

  Then he ensured that his second wife sign a prenuptial that she was not to become pregnant. In doing so, she would be violating the contract she’d signed and would leave the marriage with nothing. Randolph himself violated that heartless contract, because his new wife did indeed become pregnant about three years afterwards and gave birth to a boy. Instead of divorcing her, he remained with both his wife and son in their Rye, New York home.

  For all her life, Valerie’s father had been a signature on a monthly check. He had never called her, whether it was her birthday or Christmas, or just to say, “Hello, sweetie, how’s school?” like normal dads. She had met him once, more to satisfy her curiosity. At the time she was seventeen and was quietly reminded that “your checks will be stopping next year.”

  Like night and day: That was how she’d described her parents to people, including Zed and Josh.

  And, yes, most enthusiastically, she was and would always be a mama’s girl. Her mother drove her crazy sometimes, which went with the territory when it came to mother/daughter relationships. But her mother would always be her oldest and dearest friend, even surpassing Kylie McCoy.

  Valerie was spraying cologne on her neck, in her hair and on her wrists when she heard the car horn coming from outside. She went to the French doors in her living room and opened them, stepping out onto the terrace.

  “Whoa—stay right there, baby!” Calling up to her, Josh whipped out his cell phone. “Don’t move!”

  On a whim, he was taking her pi
cture. Though it was supposed to be spontaneous, Valerie—being a woman—still posed for the shot. She rested her hands on the terrace railing and tilted her head to the side, smiling.

  Wish I had my camera, too. Nevertheless, her memory took that photo of him looking so handsome in his dressier jeans, with a sports jacket over a shirt that stretched over his broad, masculine chest. He’d styled his hair for the occasion and in his free hand was a small box.

  A gift for her. A token of love and thoughtfulness.

  You are altogether fair, my love. There is no blemish in thee.

  That was from somewhere in the book of Song of Solomon, a part of the Bible she loved and reread from time to time. Paraphrased, because Valerie wasn’t good at memorizing scripture. Donna, a woman at church who also led Monday night prayer group, was adept at committing scripture to memory.

  What Valerie did recall from that passage fit Josh and what she was feeling that night. It fit perfectly.

  “Comin’ up for you!” he shouted.

  “Oh—Josh, don’t take the stairs!” she called back. “I’m coming down right now. Give me a minute!”

  “All right, baby!”

  Tittering to herself, not because anything was funny but out of joy, she closed and locked the doors to the terrace. Rather than take her usual purse, she’d chosen her shoulder sling bag, the one with only enough room for her driver’s license, keys, lipstick, cell phone and a few dollars, in case she needed quickie cash. Giving the apartment one last check—oven and stove off, coffee maker off and unplugged—she headed downstairs.

  You should have bought him a little gift! she scolded herself.

  Next time, she would. Josh seemed to enjoy giving her little gifts, as he enjoyed it now, kissing her before displaying the small box.

  “A flower?” she asked.

  “A corsage. Since we’re going to our prom, I, as your date, have brought you a corsage.” He sounded so serious and official, suddenly breaking into a chuckle. “That’s our celebration. We’re going to our ‘prom.’ Our private prom. No one else will be there but us.”

  “A prom? Ohhhh!” Valerie was jubilant. “I didn’t go to my prom.”

  “No? I would’ve thought you did. I didn’t go to mine. Didn’t see the point since I wasn’t really dating anybody special. And it wasn’t the best time in my life.” Gingerly, he removed the corsage from the florist’s box and placed the elastic band over her hand and around her wrist. “But you’re here in my life. So now it’s time for a prom.”

  She recalled that time during her senior year. A sad time because Zed had broken up with her and had begun seeing a girl he’d met in college. Valerie had gotten into a minor tiff with Kylie for voicing her suspicion that Zed had broken up simply to avoid the expense and bother of a prom, since he’d been out of high school by then and didn’t relish being around a bunch of teenagers for an entire night. Valerie had also convinced herself that missing her prom wasn’t a big deal, anyway.

  Until now, while gazing at her corsage. This one was dainty, comprised of five miniature, pastel pink roses surrounded by a pink ribbon and baby’s breath. He must have caught on that pink was her favorite color. She thought about his words.

  But you’re here in my life. Now it’s time for a prom. Easily, the same applied to him. Her heart felt like it would take flight at any moment.

  Josh opened his car’s front passenger door and waved her in regally.

  “Sorry it’s not a limo,” he apologized.

  She gave him a kiss before seating herself. “Doesn’t need to be. This will be the perfect prom date.”

  If she hadn’t looked up when she did, Valerie would have missed seeing him in the car’s rearview mirror. It was as he was coming around the rear of the car to the driver’s seat, and it was his profile, but he was dancing. Actually doing a little strut, happily reacting to what she’d just said.

  She smiled to herself but looked away when he joined her, sliding into the front seat with the car keys in hand.

  “This is the prom, but just keep in mind now,” Josh began, “that this is your prom…Jersey shore-style.”

  CHAPTER NINE

 

‹ Prev