by Lynne Hugo
“You should be there with them, not dragging me around…” Sorrow in her voice, shaking her head. “You should be celebrating. I don’t want you to be missing that.”
“I’ll celebrate with you, when they catch that thug. CiCi, I know his type, I was caged up with his type. I don’t think you get it. You and the baby aren’t safe. He’s got to be stopped, and Terry, too. Are you about done? Can we go?”
* * * *
At the library, Caroline was adamant. No, he couldn’t come in with her. She had to deal with Terry herself. It wasn’t negotiable. What did he think, that Terry was going to beat her up in the library? Still, as she gingerly lumbered in the door after struggling to open it, her heart was thudding the way Lizzie’s tail did against the floor when she was on high alert, waiting.
Terry wasn’t at the front desk, but Caroline could see her off behind the reception area at her own work station. Miss Efficient Volunteer was covering the desk, Caroline saw, in a courage-deflating moment.
“I’d like to talk to Terry DiPaulo,” she said to the volunteer. “It’s personal,” she added, to try to head her off. “My name is Caroline Marcum.”
“I’ll see if she has time,” Ms. E.V. said. She had on her preppy denim jumper and the same black velvet headband Caroline had seen before. Caroline watched her bend and whisper to Terry and then the two of them looked at her, Miss E.V.’s face neutral but perhaps a tad professionally suspicious, and Terry’s tightening into a mask. Terry nodded, touched the angel pinned to her kelly green sweater, adjusted her hair, and walked toward Caroline.
Chapter 28
“What is it you need, Caroline?” Terry said.
Either the unflattering green of her sweater made her skin look sallow and the bubblegum pink she’d applied to her cheeks and lips created that terrible Kewpie doll look, or Terry was sick and trying to hide it, Caroline thought. Dark roots emerged from her scalp, too, which accentuated the artificial color of her long blonde curls.
“To talk with you. I’d like to talk with you privately.” Terry started to shake her head no, but Caroline intervened before she could speak the refusal. “Please, Terry. I want to be honest with you, and I hope you’ll be honest with me.”
“Go ahead,” Terry said.
“Could we please speak in private?” Caroline used the reception desk to brace herself. It was some kind of fake surface, less shiny than Formica, but dark and cool underneath the hands she spread there as if casually. She was clammy in her coat, glad she’d at least left scarf and gloves in the car.
Terry made a show of looking around. Miss E. V. was a short distance away. Caroline guessed at what Terry was going to say and countered it. “I don’t think either one of us wants anyone overhearing any part of what’s gone on, in the past or now.” She pointed to the scrapes and cut on her own cheek, an artificial bravado to the gesture.
Terry yielded. She went to the hinged section of the counter, raised it, and signaled Caroline to follow her. Her two inch heels clicked in a crisp counterpoint to the mushy sound of Caroline’s boots as they crossed an uncarpeted section of slate flooring near the library entry.
It had to be deliberate, although Terry revealed nothing right away. She led Caroline to the children’s room which, as was common on a weekday in the middle of winter at lunchtime, had no patrons in it. Young children were home being fed and put down for naps. Older children were in school. Once inside, she closed the door, walked to the end of the room where there were some adult sized chairs and a table, which she moved until she was satisfied. Pointing to the chair she wanted Caroline to take, she sat herself and, finally, fire-eyed, looked at Caroline whose eyes were streaming tears.
“I know who you are. I assume this is what you wanted,” Terry said bitterly. “You wanted to watch me suffer. Well, have at it. You could have just said so from the beginning and saved yourself all those ridiculous lies. But I guess that would have required human decency. Even Rhonda doesn’t make me come in here, but maybe this will satisfy your craving and you’ll finally go away forever.”
“You thought that’s why I came? To watch you suffer?”
Terry turned up the volume. “People with good intentions don’t pack their suitcases full of neatly ironed lies. Look, I want you out of here for good. I’ll get a restraining order.” She nearly shouted the last sentence.
Caroline fought to keep her voice level, quiet and steady. “I think I’m the one with the grounds for a restraining order. You’ve had me stalked, you’ve had my house vandalized, you’ve had me threatened, and now you’ve had me beaten up in a way that could have killed my baby. Or were we both supposed to be killed? I have to wonder if that was your intent. But at least a child for a child, right?”
Terry’s right hand fluttered up in the direction of her pin. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Her eyes slid over the bruising on Caroline’s face, then darted away. “Whatever happened to you, I had nothing to do with it,” her tone as defensive as angry for that moment. Then she went back on the offensive. “You’re the one that took my life. Don’t you think once was enough? Just get out!”
Miss E.V. appeared at the glass door that Terry had closed, a confused look on her face. Terry got up and went to the door. Miss E.V. whispered something, and Caroline heard Terry reply very quietly, “No, it’s fine. Really. Thanks. You just cover the front desk. Thanks,” and she surmised that Miss E.V. had heard Terry shouting, or perhaps even been lurking about to check on things. Ironic, she thought. I’m the one who was beaten up, but Terry’s the one being guarded. She reminded herself that it was she who’d forced Rid to remain in the car, blurring the lines between independence, loneliness, and stupidity.
Terry returned but didn’t sit. “Are you finished?” Bitter, spittle-filled.
“No. Because now it’s you who isn’t telling the truth. Terry, I freely admit that I was here under false pretenses. Not to watch you suffer, though. I discovered you completely by accident when I came to the library. What brought me back—after I knew you were here, I mean—I’m not so sure about. I think it was that I’d also discovered I was pregnant and I was scared to death.” Terry sank into the chair, but her face showed no sign of capitulation. Caroline continued as if Terry hadn’t moved. “I felt like I needed to know if you were all right. I thought I should have an abortion—that I certainly didn’t deserve to have a child since I was responsible for you losing yours. Then I thought that wasn’t right either, that maybe my baby would have defects like yours, and that was what was supposed to happen. I’m almost forty-one. But I didn’t think I could handle that, either.” Caroline was scrutinizing Terry’s face, which was unreadable to her, except that now her eyes were small overflowing ponds. “I admit I lied about who I am. But I didn’t have a hurtful intent toward you any more than I did with the accident. Terry, I am so, so sorry. For everything,” Caroline finished, fishing in her pocket for a tissue. Overheating badly now, she struggled to get out of her coat and then realized she couldn’t do it alone. She stood up and tried to let the coat just slide off her shoulders and down her arms, which she put as far behind her as she could, onto the floor. Still, it stuck about halfway down, hung up on the taping around her back, trapping her. She backed up to Terry, “Would you just push the coat onto the floor? Thanks.”
“What’s wrong with you?”
“I think you know,” Caroline answered, kicking the coat toward her chair and sitting back down. “It’s why I’m here today, before I tell the police.”
“I hardly know what to take on first,” Terry said, the pools spilling, and she angrily wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “How dare you think that having a child like Alex is a punishment? He was a blessing, a grace! He was everything to me. You are not worthy of such a child.”
“I didn’t mean it that—”
“No, you never mean to hurt anybody do you, that’s just what you do.”
Caroline tried to take a deep breath, but her ribs wouldn’t let her. A cough seare
d her. She was tiring and her head was throbbing. She wished Rid would appear and take her out.
“Terry, please. I came for two things today. First, to tell you I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I understand you’ll never forgive me, and I don’t expect that. Second, I came to see you about the man you sent to harass me and beat me up. He’s done it, and it’s going to have to be enough for you now. It has to stop. I’ve decided to have this baby and do the best I can. I can understand if that makes you hate me even more, but I felt like I owe you this—to at least warn you—I’ll name you to the police if you don’t put a stop to it now.”
Terry’s resistance didn’t flag. “I’ve done nothing. Don’t try to shift your guilt to me. You’ve no proof.”
“But I do. We have a partial license plate, a description of the man who attacked me—which is pretty distinctive—and the fact that back when all this was just starting, he told Rid to look out for you and he’d do him the unsolicited favor of making sure he wouldn’t have to make any payments. We’ve figured out that he meant child support payments. Unfortunately for you, he gave Rid your name and address in his own handwriting. I don’t think that’s a connection the police will ignore.”
A physical change came over Terry. She leaned back, shoulders sagging, exhaled, and said, “Do the police already know all this?”
Caroline paused. “No. I haven’t told them. They just have the man’s description and the partial license plate. The bartender who saved me from him gave them that.”
“And why haven’t you told them?” Maintaining the distance, head turned a little sideways while Terry’s chin went up and her eyes got almost imperceptibly smaller.
“Because I wanted to talk to you first. To give you a chance to explain or, I don’t know, just to put a stop to it yourself. Because I don’t want to bring more trouble and pain into your life.”
“You want me to owe you? Like then I’ll have to forgive you or something?” Terry was clutching her pin now, leaning forward again, her voice raspy.
“The mercy I can show you is in not asking for your forgiveness. Here’s what I’m asking: if you stop that man, I won’t send the police to you.”
“He’s my cousin, Boo,” Terry whispered, shrinking, face crumpling. Then, she pulled herself up and the whisper took on the sound of a hiss. “Taking care of me because of you.”
“Can you stop him now? And stop him for good?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. I can try.” A whisper this time.
“If you stop him first, and the police find him, I won’t press charges. I don’t know if the police can override me, but I’ll do my best. I won’t help them, and I won’t say anything that connects any of this to you. But you have to stop him.” The heat in the room was oppressive and the bright red, green, yellow, blue bears on the border below the ceiling seemed to be moving. Caroline felt light- headed and steadied herself by gripping the table. “I have to go now.”
Terry’s face was covered by her hands, and she was sobbing now. She did not look up to see Caroline struggle out of her chair and struggle again to pick up the coat on the floor. It wasn’t her pregnancy size, not yet; it was the stiffness of her injuries and the pain in her ribs that made her so awkward. Caroline, too, had tears running down her face, but they were silent. She pulled two more tissues from her coat pocket and released them onto Terry’s lap. She wanted to touch the other woman, comfort her and tell her that she understood, and she started to but then drew back. In the end, Caroline put the lightest, briefest touch she could manage, a feather, milkweed seeds released from their pod, a butterfly, a baby’s kiss on Terry’s shoulder and left the room.
* * * *
When he saw Caroline coming, Rid scrambled out of the Honda and hurried to meet her. She was carrying her coat bunched up in front of her and using a sweater sleeve to swipe at her eyes. “Goddammit, I knew I shouldn’t let you go in there alone. What did she do to you?” He put his arm around her as if she were an invalid, trying to avoid hurting the broken ribs but hurting them anyway as he steered her toward the car. Caroline flinched but didn’t pull away from him.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” he said, immediately moving his hand down to her hip. “Or here, just give me your coat and purse. Are you cold? Let me put this over your shoulders.”
“Who are you? My mother, my grandmother, Noelle and Elsie all rolled into one?” Caroline said, touching her head down on his chest briefly. She raised her head to face him. “Honest, I’m okay. Let’s get away from here. I don’t want her to see us in the parking lot. I’ll tell you everything, just not here. Let me get myself together.”
They stopped at the Village Café, where CiCi went to the bathroom and Rid bought her tea in a paper cup. Then he drove out to the access road in front of his grant, CiCi’s house right there, intact across the horseshoe beach. One aquaculturist was out, antlike in the distance, down toward the Blackfish Creek. “Here’s home for both of us,” Rid said as he set the brake. “Look at that sun scattering itself on the water. Diamonds. Hmm. And who’s that son of a bitch out, getting a jump on the rest of us. Looks like—Clint? What the hell is he doin’? Okay, never mind, forget that stuff,” he said, shaking his head like a dog. He shifted in his seat so he was three-quarters facing her and extended his hand asking for hers. “I’m not good at this patience thing. Let’s hear it now.”
Caroline took a deep breath. “You were right. The guy who did it—the guy who grabbed me—is her cousin. I don’t know exactly what she told him to do, but I guess it was to run me off.”
“You’re shitting me! She confessed?” Rid tightened his grip on her hand and then in his excitement, let go of it, needing both hands to gesture. “You’ve got her cold? And you’ve got him? I can’t believe it. Good job, CiCi. Oh baby, I’m so proud of you. It’s really over! Wow. Good job. Okay, we go right to the police and make the report. And then, hey, you ever thought about getting married?” He leaned over, grabbed her shoulders and contorted himself over the gearshift so as not to pull her forward but to make all the movement come from himself, and smacked her with a full wet kiss on the lips. “Nice,” he said. “Umm.” A grin, and then he did it again before he started the engine of the car.
Caroline reached over and covered his hand. “No.” she said. “Turn it off. Please.”
Rid switched off the ignition. “What’s the matter?” he said.
“I’m not going to the police.”
“The hell you’re not. That moonface psycho dickhead attacked you and he could have killed you, coulda killed our baby. What the hell are you thinking?” Incredulity laced with anger.
“I’m thinking that whether on purpose or not, Rid, I hurt her once the worst anyone can hurt someone else.”
“That was a fucking accident. Completely different. She might be too dense to see that, but the rest of the world isn’t. And besides, you paid for that. You did your time.”
“So she hurts me on purpose,” Caroline continued. “Maybe has her cousin try to kill my baby. Let’s say she does.”
“Or try to kill you and our baby. On purpose.”
“Okay. I’ll give you that. So I, in retaliation, press charges and she goes to jail.”
“Her and moonface psycho dickhead. Right on.”
“And then she gets out. Then what?”
“She’s eighty-two and on a walker, I hope. You can get a lot of time for attempted murder.”
Caroline put her hand on Rid’s thigh. “Rid, someone has to stop the pain, and I choose it to be me. This all started with something I did, and I have some small power now to be—to be decent or kind. I’m not sure what the right word is.”
“CiCi, no. It leaves you wide open. She can come after you again. Psychodick can come after you again, nothing to stop them. Do you think they want you to have this baby? You can’t live like that. Worrying about them being right around the next corner.”
Caroline saw the frustrated anger in the red flush rising from his lower neck steadily toward h
is face, a thermometer of emotion. She’d seen it before when he’d had it in his head that she was involved in Pissario’s lawsuit.
She tried to take his hand, but he withdrew it. “I don’t want to make you mad, and I don’t want you to have to worry, but Terry said she thought she could get him to stop. I’m trying to make things right, so I can live with myself. It’s a matter of mercy, Rid.
“You believe her? After what she’s done to you?”
“I’m going to give her a chance.”
“And risk yourself and our baby?”
“There’s some risk, yes. I want to give her a chance is all.” Caroline looked out the windshield toward the water, but had to squint because of the intensity of the light. She wished she had some sunglasses with her. Rid was right, though. It was home. The sand and the water were soothing. The back of the tide was creeping up toward the wrack line, high and thick as always in winter. The worst of the weather was ahead. The harbor would likely freeze by the end of the month and she was worried about the potential damage to the buried clams. Big blocks of ice would shift with tides, scraping the sand and netting off them.
“Well, I don’t. An accident is one thing, CiCi, but what she did was on purpose. Don’t you get that?”
“Please, Rid—”
“I don’t think I can live with this.”
“But—“
“Are you going to be rational and protect yourself and our baby, or are you gonna put yourself out there with a target on your stomach? Because I’m not gonna watch that. I’m not going to sit around and just wait for that.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to. If I thought that’s what I was doing, I couldn’t either. Hold up, just please listen,” she said as Rid started to break in. She picked up his hand, half to restrain him, half to soothe. “I thought about this a lot when I was in the hospital and in bed at Noelle’s. You know, the whole idea of why this happened, if it was retaliation. I felt like it was at least spiritual punishment, that I somehow deserved it. Now I know it was real, direct human retaliation, which at least makes more sense.”
