A Field of Poppies

by Sharon Sala

  Hannah slipped it into her apron pocket. “Yes sir, we will.”

  The dog across the street barked again as they made their way to the car.

  “Unlock the door,” Kenny said, and lengthened his stride.

  Mike grinned as he hit the remote. The car lights blinked as the doors unlocked, which set the dog into a frenzy.

  “That was a bust,” Kenny said, as he buckled up.

  “Maybe, maybe not.”

  “Seriously, partner. It’s getting late and I’m hungry. We have three names left on the list. Let’s get this over with and get home, okay?”

  “Then give me an address,” Mike said, entering it into the GPS as Kenny read one off.

  As luck would have it, they drove back past the Sadler residence and this time there was a late model pickup parked in the drive.

  “Looks like she’s got company,” Kenny said.

  Mike caught a glimpse of the plates. “Out of state. Probably the missing brother.”

  “I didn’t know there was a missing brother,” Kenny said. “What else don’t I know that you do?”

  “Yes, you did and stop being an ass,” Mike said. “When we get to the next house, you take the lead. Maybe it’ll release some of your pent-up hostility.”

  ****

  Poppy was checking to make sure there were clean sheets on John’s bed when she heard a car pull up in the drive. She glanced at the clock. It was too late for company. Please God let it be Johnny.

  The thump of footsteps sounded on the porch as she came hurrying down the hall, but it wasn’t until she heard the key in the lock that she knew he was home.

  The front door swung inward just as she entered the living room.

  Johnny!

  He was thinner than the last time she’d seen him, which made his shoulders look wider than ever. He stood in the doorway, as if waiting for an invitation to come the rest of the way in.

  “Hey, Poppy.”

  “Johnny. Thank God, thank God,” Poppy said, and then she was in his arms.

  He kicked the door shut behind him as he swept her off her feet. “I’m sorry, sister, I’m so, so, sorry.”

  “It doesn’t matter. You’re here now,” Poppy said, and then began to sob.

  John thought he had his emotions in check until he’d seen the dark circles beneath her eyes and the look of terror on her face. Tears burned the back of his throat as he choked on what he’d meant to say. Moments later they were weeping in each other’s arms.

  ****

  Amelia Caulfield had always loved the dining room in the family mansion. It was one of the few rooms she’d never redecorated during her years here with Adam.

  The wallpaper was gold flocked with a wine-red diamond pattern. Adam had hated it, saying it reminded him of argyle socks. But Amelia loved it, so it had stayed. The elongated crystals dangling from the chandelier glittered like strands of diamonds, and at her bidding the maid had set table tonight with the Paul Revere silver and Waterford crystal.

  She sat in the captain’s chair like a queen residing over her dominion, while Justin sat just to her right. Proper etiquette would have had Justin at the head of the table since he was now the ‘man of the house’, but when Amelia came back from Florida to help with Callie, she had claimed age over propriety and chosen the seat in his stead.

  She delivered a different, but witty conversational subject with each course that was served, and by the time they got to dessert, she was on an emotional high.

  The only downside to the evening was Justin’s non-committal attitude and his lack of appetite. She’d gone through the entire meal, watching him poke at his food. After having spent the better part of the afternoon and evening together at the hospital with Callie before coming home to a late dinner, he was obviously too distracted to eat.

  “Justin.”

  He looked up. “Yes, Mother?”

  “What’s wrong? Are you worried about Callie? Is it something at the office? Talk to me. I may be getting old, but I’m not senile and I am a good listener.”

  He looked away, giving his fork a good deal of introspection before putting it on his plate and then shoving it aside. Amelia could tell he was weighing a decision as to whether to confide in her or not.

  “Well, for God’s sake spit it out,” she said.

  His nostrils flared as he lifted his head. “I don’t care for the tone of your voice.”

  The resemblance was so strong that for a moment, it was as if Amelia was facing her husband and not her son, then she frowned.

  “I’m just trying to help. What’s on your mind, son?”

  He laughed. “You don’t want to know.”

  “But I do. I’m your mother. What bothers you, bothers me.”

  Justin smiled, but it did not reach his eyes.

  “No, impropriety bothers you, Mother. Not my feelings. But since you insist on probing my psyche, I have a question. How does that saying go about the sins of the fathers being visited upon the children?”

  “I’m not sure of the exact wording myself, but I know what you mean,” Amelia said.

  “So, do you believe one generation pays for the sins of another?”

  It was an odd question, but she had no problem answering. “No, I don’t. I think each person follows a pre-destined path that has nothing to do with another, but that’s just me.”

  The corner of his mouth turned up just enough that would lead one to think he might but be amused, except he wasn’t.

  “Of course you would think like that. If that’s your belief, then it allows all kinds of leeway without having to claim a responsibility for your choices. Living life your way, you can never be faulted for making a bad decision or be deemed cruel because what you did was not intentional. It was just the path you were destined to be on.”

  Amelia didn’t know whether to be concerned or offended. This confrontational behavior wasn’t like him. In fact, it was completely foreign. He was a natural leader – a man who never exhibited stress. This had to be because of Callie.

  “Callie needs a kidney transplant, but neither of us qualify as donors,” Justin said.

  Amelia relaxed. Her instincts had been right. This was about Callie.

  “Don’t worry. Transplants are done daily all over the country.”

  “I do worry. I will continue to worry. I cannot imagine why you don’t. Dr. Summers put her on a waiting list, but she’s nowhere near the top.”

  Amelia frowned. “Really? I would have thought-“

  Justin stared into his mother’s face. “Money can’t buy us out of this.”

  Amelia lifted her chin – not much, but just enough for any observer to realize she’d gone from amiable table companion to formidable host.

  “Now I don’t like the tone of your voice. If I didn’t know better, I would think you’re implying that the family goes around committing sins and then buying their way out of the messes they cause.”

  A muscle jerked at the size of Justin’s jaw but his gaze never wavered.

  Amelia felt the accusation, but she wasn’t going there. Not now. Not ever.

  He watched her expression shift. Between one breath and the next it was as if their conversation had never happened.

  “You know what dear, I’m very tired this evening. Callie was particularly bored today and demanded a lot of my attention. I believe I’ll turn in for the night.”

  Justin stood, momentarily looming over his mother’s chair.

  “You do that, Mother. I know you’ll rest well. You gave your conscience to the devil years ago.”

  Amelia’s lips parted in shock, but whatever volley she’d been about to deliver was nullified by her son’s angry exit.

  Justin couldn’t calm down and knew it would be impossible to sleep. Without thinking about the time, he stormed out of the house.

  The sky was overcast, but security lights triggered by motion detectors came on one by one as he strode to the garage, elongating his shadow and turning it into a child�
�s version of a monster. The faster he walked, the more it appeared as if he was being chased.

  By the time he got to the garage his heart was pounding. As he drove down the driveway and then out into the city, he felt as if he was making an escape, but from what? A man could not outrun his past no matter how far or how fast he went, but he needed to put distance between himself and his mother before one of them said something that couldn’t be taken back.

  Traffic was steady in the entertainment side of the city, especially around the mall and the movie theatre. His fingers tightened on the steering wheel as he drove past the mall parking lot. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been to the movies and he’d never been inside that mall because a Caulfield should not mingle with the masses. He’d had that beaten into him early on and never forgotten, and if his behavior at the dinner table was any indication of the grudge he still carried, he’d never forgiven it either.

  There was no purpose to his route. He drove up and down streets in one neighborhood after another - wondering what it would be like to be one of them - worrying about the economy and maybe a kid who was failing in school or smoking weed. Wondering how it would be to have had a wife who’d married you for love instead of the size of your father’s bank account. And then looking at the other side of the coin and wondering if they ever wished they were him.

  Right now, he would trade places in a heartbeat, trade his mother for a wife who loved him and a kid who was healthy as a horse.

  He drove out of the residential area and back into the downtown part of Caulfield, but didn’t realize where he was until he stopped at a stop sign. That’s when he saw the floodlights shining on the sign on the front lawn of Edison’s Funeral Home.

  His skin crawled. All this time - all the driving – and this was where his subconscious had led him?

  As he watched, the front door of the funeral home opened. A couple emerged hand in hand, their heads bent in obvious grief. He drove through the intersection, then up into the parking lot and found himself unwilling to move.

  What the fuck was he doing? What would this prove?

  Then his attitude shifted to one of defiance. He didn’t have to prove anything to anyone but himself and he wanted to go in. He strode up the sidewalk without hesitation, his steps long and sure. There was a moment as his fingers curled around the doorknob and he felt the cold metal beneath his palm that brought him to a halt. The flash of reality almost made him go back to his car, but he stopped. He’d been running from this moment for over twenty years. The least he could do was say goodbye. He turned the knob and walked in.

  Truman Epperson was on duty, and got up from the desk.

  “Mr. Caulfield. How can I be of service?”

  “I’ve come to pay my respects to Jessup Sadler’s wife. He was one of my employees and I was given to understand that she had passed.”

  “Helen Sadler. Yes, yes, right this way,” Truman said, and then moved toward a viewing room at the end of the central lounge.

  Once they reached the doorway, everything began happening in slow motion. Justin saw Truman’s mouth moving, but he could no longer hear what he was saying. When Truman paused and gestured to his left, Justin saw the guestbook and signed his name without thought, then entered. The room was empty of mourners, with only a couple of green plants and one basket of flowers to mark her presence.

  Justin kept walking all the way up to the casket before he would allow himself to look inside. Once he did, the knot in his gut turned into a full-blown ache.

  Sunny.

  He’d been through this once with Deborah, now Sunny was dead, too?

  He’d never thought of Sunny Roberts as growing older. In the back of his mind she’d always stayed the same pretty, happy girl who liked hot fudge sundaes and making love in the rain. It was shocking to see what the cancer had done to her body. Even though the dress she was wearing was pretty enough, it was evident that she was skin and bones beneath. When he saw the ring on her finger, it served to remind him it was his own damn fault she’d been another man’s wife.

  But he hadn’t come just to walk away. Not until he said what he needed to say, but discreetly, of course. She’d kept their secret all these years. The last thing he needed was for someone to overhear him and soil her memory.

  He reached inside the casket, hesitating but a moment before he cupped her hand. Even though it was cold and stiff, a part of him remembered how eagerly she would have returned the caress.

  “Sunny, I’m sorry. You don’t know how many times in the past twenty years that I wished I’d made a different choice. I never expected you to forgive me. I never expected you to understand. I traded you for a birthright, and just between the two of us, it was a really bad deal.”

  There was a lump in the back of his throat. Tears were burning to be shed, but not here.

  “Rest well, Sunny girl. If there’s such a thing as heaven, I hope to see you again.”

  He touched her chin, traced the curve of her cheek then walked out of the room.

  “Goodnight, Mr. Caulfield,” Truman said.

  Justin nodded and kept on moving – all the way down the sidewalk, then into his car. He started the engine, backed away from the curb, then pulled over to the dark side of the parking lot and laid his head down on the steering wheel.

  Tears came swiftly, but when he tried to draw breath, he choked. He moaned, then he raged, pounding the steering wheel until his hands were numb while the wind rose and the clouds rolled in.

  By the time his grief was spent, it had begun to rain. He put the car into gear and drove away, once again putting distance between him and his Sunny girl. It occurred to him as he left the area that in a symbolic way, the rain was washing away the tracks of where he’d been. It was only fitting he hide this last visit, since their entire relationship had been a secret, as well.

  Chapter Ten

  “Do you want some more fried chicken?” Poppy asked.

  “No, but I’ll help you clean up,” John said, as he scraped the chicken bones into the trash. He frowned as he watched her running dishwater into the sink. “You didn’t eat.”

  “I know. It feels like I’ll choke when I put food in my mouth.”

  “I’m sorry, sister. What can I do?” The look she gave him was one of relief, which only added to his guilt.

  “You’re here. That’s enough.”

  “Is there room for all this food in the refrigerator?” John asked.

  “There should be now. I already put the casseroles in the freezer in the back room. They’ll be easy enough to reheat the day of the funeral. The rest of the stuff to be refrigerated should fit. Don’t worry about the cakes or the fruit pies. They’ll be fine sitting out.”

  “Got it,” he said, and began covering up the uneaten food and putting it away.

  They worked in silence for a few minutes, but as soon as they were finished John led her into the living room and sat down on the sofa.

  “Talk to me,” he said.

  There were so many things they needed to discuss that Poppy couldn’t choose a topic.

  “You first.”

  He didn’t hesitate. He might not like what she had to say but needed to know where he stood.

  “Do you hate me? Tell me the truth. I can take it. Lord knows I hate myself enough for the both of us.”

  Her eyes welled. “No, Johnny, I don’t hate you. I couldn’t. Gladys says everyone deals with grief their own way. You did what you had to do to survive.”

  Shame turned the food he’d just eaten into a knot in his belly. He shook his head and looked away.

  “It’s okay, Johnny. Really.”

  “No it’s not. I sacrificed you to save myself and never once thought what my leaving would do to you until it was too late.”

  “It’s not too late. I managed. Besides, I’m not a baby anymore. I don’t need anyone to take care of me. I can take care of myself.”

  “It wasn’t about taking care of you, sister. I hurt you and
I hurt Mom and Dad because I couldn’t face the ugly truth. I was a coward and I’ll have to live with that for the rest of my life.”

  Poppy’s heart was breaking. She’d never seen her big brother so defeated – so shamed, and the worst part of it was there was nothing she could say that could make it better.

  “Can I ask you something?” John asked.

  “Anything,” she said, as she watched his eyes well with tears.

  “Did she suffer?”

  Poppy’s shoulders slumped. “I won’t lie. Probably. Yes, some for sure. But Dr. Summers was wonderful and toward the end they kept her comfortable. The thing about Mama was that she was always upbeat. Every time I visited I’d have to psych myself up to go into her room, but I’d walk out feeling better. I don’t know how she made that happen, but looking back, I think it was just her love filling me back up.”

  Tears slipped down the sharp angles of his face. He didn’t bother wiping them away.

  “What about Dad? Do the cops have any suspects? Have they found his car?”

  Poppy pulled a handful of tissues from the box near her elbow and handed them to him without comment.

  “No suspects, but they did find the car. It was at an all-night gas station with the keys in it and the doors locked.”

  “You’re kidding! I thought they’d probably find it stripped and burned or in the river,” John said.

  “So did I,” Poppy said.

  “What are the names of the cops in charge of the case? I want to talk to them tomorrow.”

  “Detective Amblin and Detective Duroy.”

  “Amblin? Mike Amblin?” John asked.

  “Yes, do you know him?”

  “He’s a couple of years older than me, but yeah. Star quarterback his last two years of high school. I heard he’d played some college ball too, but I lost track of all that once I graduated. And you know how I hated the mines. Once I got into trucking, I was only in and out of Caulfield long enough to see family.”

  Poppy flashed on strong arms picking her up off the bridge - carrying her into the bathroom and running a hot bath to warm her because she was too cold to stand.