The Man She Knew

by Loree Lough

  Not even if it meant there was so much as the whisper of a chance—

  Her desk phone rang, and she picked up the handset, relieved.

  “Hey sis.”

  “Eliot...what’s up?”

  “I’m fine, how are you?” he said, laughing.

  “Sorry. I’m a bit distracted this afternoon. Everyone all right at your house?”

  “We’re all good.”

  “And work?”

  “That’s good too. So the reason I called... I have the boys this weekend, thought I’d take ’em to the B&O Railroad Museum. They’ve got the miniature Christmas garden set up....”

  “Oh, they’ll love that.”

  “I was hoping you could come with us.”

  “Would you believe I’ve never been there, despite how close it is to my place? When were you thinking of going?”

  “Saturday. Early afternoon.”

  “Want me to make a light lunch, since I live so close?”

  “No, I want to take you out someplace. Maybe Cacao Lane. Call it a peace offering.”

  “A peace offering? Why?”

  “I’ve been pretty hard on you since that...” He cleared his throat. “I haven’t exactly been a loving brother lately. Joe’s right. You don’t deserve that.”

  Maleah didn’t know what to say. He’d almost said something snide about Ian, but stopped himself. It told her that he’d control himself in front of his sons, too.

  “You’re a great brother.” Most of the time. “I haven’t spent nearly enough time with the boys lately. Or had a meal at that restaurant in ages, either. This’ll be fun.”

  “I think so, too. Better let you go or I’ll be late for my shift. Love ya, sis.”

  “Love you, too, big brother.”

  “Has Mom talked to you about Thanksgiving dinner?”

  “No, but I’m sure it’s on her to-do list.”

  Eliot laughed. “That thing gets more unwieldy every day.”

  “But thankfully—no pun intended—it doesn’t change much. You’ll pick up ice and sodas. I’ll make a dessert and a side dish. Joe will get stuck with chips and pretzels.”

  “Maybe I’ll shake things up a little this year, bring a store-bought pie.”

  Maleah gasped. “You wouldn’t dare!”

  He paused before saying, “I’ve missed you, kiddo.”

  “Ditto.”

  “Want to just meet us at the restaurant?”

  “That makes sense. I can hardly wait.”

  She scribbled a note on her desk blotter. CALL MOM. On second thought, maybe she’d stop by on the way home. With her brain in a tizzy, she wouldn’t accomplish much here, anyway.

  Maleah stuffed her laptop and the usual file folders into her briefcase and almost couldn’t snap it shut, thanks to the bundle of Ian’s letters taking up so much extra room. During the drive to Ellicott City, Maleah considered other places to hide them until he healed up and she could return them to Gladys.

  Ian...

  With any luck, any family members gathered at her parents’ house tonight would follow Eliot’s example, and not talk about him at all. Just in case, though, Maleah came up with a few change-the-subject lines.

  Ian...

  He’d tried to hide his misery behind wisecracks and slanting grins, but he hadn’t fooled her. Post-op pain, she believed, explained only part of the problem: Any patient would view a doctor’s “stay home and stay quiet, indefinitely” orders as a prison sentence of sorts. But for someone with a past like Ian’s...

  Better to dwell on what he had that many patients didn’t, a muleheaded drive to overcome all obstacles that would speed his recovery to the point that it surprised everyone, his surgeon included.

  Her dad was out front, gathering the mail when she pulled into the curving driveway.

  Opening her car door, he said, “Well, look what the wind blew in.”

  Maleah grabbed her purse and got out. Even though Eliot the Snoop had been at work for hours now, the briefcase, she decided, was safer on the floor between the front and back seats.

  “What brings you here on this gloomy gray day?” Pat said, bussing her cheek.

  “Can’t a girl pay her folks a visit because she misses them?”

  Arm in arm, they trudged over the recently-shoveled brick walk toward the front porch. “Mom’s going to be glad to see you. Said just this morning that she wanted to call, start making arrangements for Thanksgiving.”

  “I figured as much.” They climbed the brick steps, and as he opened the storm door, she said, “Eliot called me today, and gave me a heads-up that she’s started her to-do list. He also invited me to join him and the boys on Saturday at the B&O Railroad Museum.” After stomping snow onto the foyer rug, Pat hung his jacket and hers on the hall tree.

  “Ah, right. I read in the morning paper they’ve got the Christmas garden all set up.” He led the way into the sunny kitchen where her mom was at the sink, her back to them.

  “You know I can’t hear you when you talk to me from another room,” she said over one shoulder.

  Pat winked at Maleah. “It just so happens I wasn’t talking to you.”

  “Oh dear. We’ve reached that age, have we?” She giggled. “Well, you know what your father says...”

  “...talking to yourself is one surefire way to know someone is listening,” they said together.

  Pat quickly tacked on, “But I wasn’t talking to myself, either.”

  Ann turned, and when she saw Maleah, said, “What a terrific surprise!” She dried her hands on a yellow-checked towel. “If I’d known you were coming,” she said, hugging her daughter, “I’d have made dessert.”

  “I’ll fill up on whatever smells so delicious.”

  Ann pointed to the Crock-Pot, nestled in a corner of the counter. “Beef stew. Didn’t have parsnips, but I think we’ll survive.”

  She guided Maleah to the long trestle table. “Sit down. Tell me all about your latest projects.” Ann took three tumblers from the cabinet and filled them with iced tea.

  When Ann delivered the drinks, Pat said, “How was traffic?”

  “Pretty good, actually. The State Highway Administration did a great job, salting and plowing. People are still driving like maniacs, but that’s nothing new.”

  “Joe tells me Eliot’s been riding you pretty hard since finding out you reconnected with Ian.”

  In her head, Maleah uttered a teenage-sounding “Da-a-ad.” Aloud, she said, “He means well.”

  “Joe and I both told him to back off.”

  “Because I told them to,” Ann said. “You’re a big girl. Smart, too. We can trust you not to do anything stupid.”

  Maleah sipped the tea. “Excellent as always. I’ve watched you make it for decades, but mine never tastes as good.”

  “Oh, I’m sure it does. It’s all perception...mom’s tea is better because mom made it.”

  Perception. If the family had it in their natures to exercise a little of that, maybe they’d stop being so judgmental toward Ian.

  But who was she to talk? This morning, she’d considered the possibility that under different circumstances, Ian might have served more time for participating in the actual robbery and shooting.

  “I’ve met with a long list of families,” she told them, “and helped get their children into the Institute’s school. A few didn’t need daily intervention, so they’ll attend weekly or biweekly sessions. It’s so gratifying to see the relief on the mom’s and dad’s faces, knowing their kids will get the help they need to prepare them for everything school related.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk about what Washburne does,” Pat said.

  “Initial evaluations determine whether or not kids need occupational the
rapy, physical therapy, speech therapy. We have some talented therapists onboard.”

  “And you were one of them.” Ann patted her arm. “Do you miss it? Sorry you accepted the promotion?”

  “No, the added salary is helping build my bucket list account.”

  “Bucket list?” the Turners said together.

  “Travel, mostly. I want to visit Ireland. Scotland. England. Italy. And go out west again.”

  “That was a great trip, wasn’t it?” Pat said. “ Reminded me of when I was a kid, and visited Uncle Buck’s ranch when school was out.”

  “I’d probably start with Alaska.”

  Her mother laughed. “But Maleah, you’ve already been there, twice!”

  “Wouldn’t mind seeing it, myself,” her dad said. Then, “So this invite from Eliot...are you going?”

  “Yup. He’s treating me to lunch at Cacao Lane.”

  “Isn’t that sweet, Pat? Don’t you just love hearing that our kids aren’t just siblings, but friends, too?”

  He smirked with affection. “Wasn’t always that way.”

  Oh, how she adored her family.

  “How’re Gran and Grampa?”

  “Ornery as ever,” Pat said. “Dad wanted me to take him to work with me, so he could attend a few roll calls and talk about how they did things in his day.”

  “Oh, that would have stood you in good stead with everyone!”

  The front door slammed and a deep voice said, “Did I hear my name used in vain?”

  Ann got up and went to the sink. “Better get this table set,” she said, washing her hands.“When that man pops in for supper, he expects it on the table, tout de suite.”

  Maleah stood beside her mother and lathered her hands, too. “I’ll help. Which bowls are we using tonight?”

  “The plain white ones.” She snickered. “Frank says designs make him miss things on his plate.”

  “Well, it’s true,” Frank said, following Teresa into the room. “Why, once I left a whole bite of chocolate cake, smack dab in the middle of some confounded flower!”

  “Good to see you two,” Maleah said, accepting hugs and doling out kisses.

  “We were driving by on our way home from Grampa’s doctor’s appointment.” She held Maleah at arm’s length. “I’ll give you three guesses as to what he said.”

  Laughing, she drew her grandfather into a three-way hug and did her best to emulate his voice. “‘Bet Ann has something good on the stove, and you know she always cooks more than she and Pat can eat...’”

  Laughter filled the already bright room and the women got busy setting the table.

  Moments later, all five held hands as Frank led the blessing:

  “God in heaven, we thank you for the grub and the gal who cooked it, and for all gathered here. Amen.”

  Before everyone let go to pick up their forks, Teresa added, “And let this old man’s tests come out A-Okay.”

  “What were the tests for, Grampa?”

  Using his fork to spear a slice of bread, he grumbled, “Aw, you know doctors these days. Go in to have an ingrown eyebrow hair removed and they’ll take half your blood and toss you onto an x-ray table looking for who knows what. It’s nothing.”

  Teresa’s face said otherwise, but Maleah decided to hold her questions until after dessert.

  “What brought you out in the snow?” Frank asked her.

  Shrugging, she smiled and said, “Just had a yen to see Mom and Dad. Lucky me, I got Grams and Grampa, to boot.”

  “So what’s new with you, sweetie?” Her grandmother had obviously been crying.

  “Nothing much, really. Things are quiet at work, and the next fund-raiser doesn’t officially kick off until spring, so I’m putting in normal hours and loving it. I might use this unexpected extra time to repaint my kitchen.”

  Pat sat back in surprise. “Didn’t you just do that last spring?”

  “Fall, honey,” her mother gently corrected.

  Maleah answered her unasked question. “I thought the color would grow on me.”

  “See there?” Frank said. “It’s like I always say. Sometimes, what looks like a deal, isn’t.” Mint-green looked great in the downstairs powder room, but didn’t match a thing in her kitchen.

  “When you’re right, you’re right,” she admitted.

  “See, that’s what I love about this kid,” he told his son. “Smart enough to know when to butter up her elders. Now pass the butter, will ya?”

  “What’s the theme of the next fund-raiser?” Teresa wanted to know.

  “We saw a need for more how-to classes for kids attending the Institute’s school. Various therapies, field trips to help them adapt to various modes of travel, what to expect if fire or police department intervention is required, and even more simple things like going to the movies or eating in a restaurant.”

  “Sounds to me like somebody has already written up the brochure,” Frank said, grinning. “Any famous people this time?”

  “I’m working on finalizing a few commitments.” She’d done well with past events, but the gala’s enormous success was due mostly to Ian’s involvement. In his present condition, she didn’t know if he’d participate. Or if she wanted him to, for that matter.

  But depriving the kids of bigger donations simply because she couldn’t bear to spend more time with the man she’d loved, lost, found again...but could never call her own seemed beyond wrong. The height of selfishness.

  “A little bird told me your convict friend arranged for some big names,” Frank said.

  Who but Eliot could have passed on information like that? “That little bird chirps entirely too much.”

  “Maleah has things well in hand,” Ann said. “She knows better than to get involved with him on anything but a professional level. Isn’t that right, sweetie?”

  Not one of the lines she’d practiced in the event Ian’s name came up would help with this turn of the conversation. So it made no sense when she heard herself say, “You wouldn’t believe how much he’s changed over the years, mostly for the better.”

  All four adults sharing the table fell silent.

  “I only say mostly because on the outside, he looks the part of an ex-con.”

  “Oh?” Ann dipped buttered bread into her stew. “He was a good-looking boy, as I recall...”

  If she described him now, the shock of seeing him—if they ever saw him again—would be lessened. By a long shot.

  “Ponytail, tattoos, an earring...”

  Pat snorted. “Your brother said he aged a ton at Lincoln.”

  “So have I. Spied my first gray hair last week!”

  That inspired a smattering of quiet chuckles.

  “Don’t give it another thought,” Ann said. “Eliot started going gray years ago, and if you ask me, he looks even more handsome—and distinguished!—with white streaks at his temples.”

  “Better for the job, too,” Pat pointed out. “New recruits pay more attention when an older cop doles out advice.”

  “Precisely why I wanted to talk with the young’uns the other day!”

  “Dad, you know as well as I do that the rules have changed. Nobody gets to run roll call unless they’re certified and approved.”

  “So thirty years on the job isn’t good enough? That stinks, if you ask me. Those greenhorns could learn a lot from us old geezers.”

  “You’ll get no argument from me. But the rules are in place for a reason.”

  “Yeah, to protect the politically correct jerks who are more interested in appeasing the media than protecting the public.” Frank leaned forward to add, “Which is the basis of the oath every cop takes before he or she pins on the badge.” He sat back again and groaned. “Good grief. Did you hear that? I just said he or she. They’ve
even got me doing it!”

  Maleah almost pointed out that since female officers put their lives on the line exactly as their male counterparts did, it was only right to include them. But the change of subject had saved her from discussing Ian, so she kept her opinion to herself.

  “More stew anyone?” Ann asked. “And there’s cherry cobbler...”

  Frank shoved his stew bowl away and scrubbed his palms together. “Make mine double-double.”

  “Coffee? It’s decaf...”

  “Sure. But keep that phony sugar away from me!”

  “Frank, no need to shout,” Teresa said.

  Her grandmother had been uncharacteristically quiet all through the meal, raising Maleah’s curiosity about the doctor’s visit. It seemed just as strange that neither of her parents had asked any questions about the appointment. What did they know that she didn’t? Maleah stood, and while her mom dished up the dessert, she cleared the table. “Okay,” she said, depositing plates and silverware into the sink, “what’s up?”

  Her mother shot her a “not now” look, which turned curiosity into fear.

  “We’re about to enjoy a Turner family classic,” Ann said, delivering a huge portion of cobbler to Frank. “And by the way, I happen to agree with some of what you so often call PC nonsense. You can’t disregard the dangers faced by female officers. They’re just as likely to die in the line of duty as the men. And don’t give me that ‘more men die on the job than women’ craziness, because that’s only because the ratio of male to female officers isn’t equal. Yet.”

  Maleah admired her mom, the only Turner brave enough to stand up to Frank. And since it took the attention even farther from Ian, she appreciated her, too.

  The conversation veered away from Ian yet again as they ate dessert, from Eliot’s boys to the Thanksgiving menu and the day’s snowfall. Frank emptied his bowl and got up.