Heartbreaker Hero: Eddie's Story (Maine Justice Book 4)

by Susan Page Davis

“In the bedroom.”

  Eddie walked through the kitchen and living room with heavy steps. His parents’ bedroom door was ajar, and he tapped on the panel then walked in. His mother lay curled up on top of the bedspread, facing the far wall and his father’s empty side of the bed. Eddie trudged around the bed and sat down on the edge.

  “Maman.”

  She looked at him with red-rimmed eyes but didn’t sit up.

  “Edouard.”

  “Yeah.” He touched her hand, and she curled it around his.

  “Lisa told you.” Her voice quivered.

  “Yeah.”

  She pulled in a ragged breath. “I don’t know what to do.”

  Eddie swallowed hard. “Have you talked to the funeral home?”

  “Not yet.”

  He nodded. “I can call them if you want.”

  “Thanks.”

  A painful lump had formed in his throat. “Whatever you need.”

  “Your Mémé.”

  “She doesn’t know?”

  “I couldn’t,” Maman said. “Her son, Eddie.”

  He nodded, thinking how his mother would feel if Al Hawkins had killed him last week. She wasn’t always happy with him, but she would be desolate if he was ripped away.

  “I’ll go see her,” he said. “She needs to hear it in person, from someone who loves her.”

  “Yes.”

  His mother had heard it from a stranger, over the phone. She rolled over and reached for the tissue box on her night stand. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose and then stood cautiously.

  Eddie jumped up and strode around the bed, fearful for a few seconds that she might crumple up on him, but she didn’t.

  “So,” she said. “If you’ll fix it with Pelletier’s, and tell your grandmother.”

  “Yeah. Does Monique know?”

  “Lisa called her. She’s coming as soon as she can get a babysitter.”

  “Okay.” Eddie held out his arms to her. “I’m sorry.”

  She hugged him fiercely for a moment then pulled away. “You’re a good boy. Now, go. I need to change. People will come.”

  He went out into the kitchen. Lisa was texting.

  “Who are you telling?”

  “My friend Paulette.”

  “Mémé doesn’t know yet, so don’t tell too many people.”

  Lisa scowled at him, and he grabbed the telephone book from the counter. He looked up the funeral home’s number and took a deep breath. While he was talking to the owner and assuring him that the family wanted him to take care of his father, Lisa left the room. Eddie gave the barest information and made an appointment for his mother the next morning, when she could settle what she wanted for the casket, the viewing hours, and all the other awful details.

  “I’ll bring her in at ten o’clock.” He hung up the receiver and stood with his hand on the wall phone for about fifteen seconds. His pop was gone.

  Trash filled the open kitchen wastebasket to the brim. Eddie got a clean bag out of the drawer and pulled the full one out of the basket.

  “What are you doing?” Lisa stood in the doorway, glaring at him.

  “Taking out the trash.”

  “Our father is dead, and you want to take out the garbage?”

  “It’s Tuesday. You have to take out the trash. The truck will be here any minute.”

  “You should be in there holding Maman’s hand,” Lisa said.

  Eddie shook his head. “A lot of people will be coming to the house. You know she’d be embarrassed if the garbage was overflowing and they saw it.”

  “Fine. Have it your way.”

  “Thanks. I will.”

  Lisa’s scowl deepened. She looked like she had fifteen years ago, when bickering was one of their daily pastimes. “Tu es bête.”

  “Tais-toi,” Eddie snapped.

  “What are you two arguing about?” Maman stood behind Lisa, looking in at him.

  “Nothing.” Eddie felt guilty to his toes. “I was just going to take out the trash on my way to see Mémé.”

  “Good. Lisa, you can make a cake.”

  “What?” Lisa stared at her.

  “We’ll need cake. And lots of coffee.”

  Eddie picked up the bag of trash and went out. The garbage truck was coming down the street, and he hurried to put the Thibodeaus’ green trash can out at the curb.

  He got in his pickup and started the engine. His thoughts were all over the place, and he wondered if he ought to drive. He felt disoriented, as though he’d been drinking all day, but without the headache.

  God, help me with my Mémé. And help me to get there in one piece. I don’t know how to tell her. Please, can you show me what to say?

  He breathed out slowly and put the truck in gear.

  When he got to the retirement home, he walked past the front desk and headed for her hallway, but he glanced into the lounge on his way past. His grandmother sat in there with three other oldsters, sipping wine and talking in French. Eddie stood in the doorway for a moment, gathering his courage.

  She looked up and saw him. A huge smile burst across her face.

  “Edouard Jean! Look, Estelle, it’s my grandson.”

  “Oh, what a handsome young man,” her friend said.

  Eddie stepped forward, still uncertain.

  Mémé’s smile faded. “What? Why are you here? You never come on a weekday. Mignon, what?” She looked terrified by the time he reached her.

  Eddie went to his knees beside her. “Je le regrette, Mémé. C’est Papa.”

  “Non!” She peered at him with glistening eyes. “Il est ... mort?”

  Eddie nodded.

  “Non, non!” She sagged against him, and Eddie held her in his arms. “Mon Paul. Mon enfant.”

  Her friends made sympathetic sounds and rose slowly. They shuffled out of the room. Estelle patted Eddie’s shoulder as she passed him. They were alone, and his grandmother continued to weep.

  *****

  Eddie called the house, and Monique answered the phone.

  “Hey,” he said softly. “Mémé wants to come. What should I do?”

  “Well, yeah, she should probably be here,” Monique said.

  “She wants to stay over.”

  “No,” Monique said firmly. “Maman can’t take care of her overnight. You can bring her, but one of us will have to take her back after supper.”

  “Okay.” He hung up, his heart heavy. “Come on, Mémé. Do you need to get anything from your room?”

  “My nightdress—”

  “No,” Eddie said gently. “I’ll bring you back here later. Maman can’t have you stay. I’m sorry.”

  Mémé sat still for a moment. “My purse, then.”

  “Of course. Allons.” He helped her up.

  On the way to the house, she was quiet, but as they turned onto the family’s street, she looked over at him.

  “Did he have last rites?”

  “I don’t know,” Eddie said. But he knew. At least, he was pretty sure there hadn’t been time.

  A black Lincoln was parked at the curb outside the house. When they walked in, Lisa met them in the kitchen. The air smelled of fresh-baked cake. Lisa hugged her grandmother and took her coat.

  “Come on in, Mémé. Father Claude is here. He’s talking to Maman about the funeral.”

  Mémé walked with tiny steps beside Lisa into the living room.

  Eddie didn’t think he could face the priest at that moment. He hesitated and went outside. All the trash cans were empty, with the lids hanging down to the side. He went and got his parents’ and took it to the garage. Then he leaned against his truck and called Leeanne.

  “Hi,” she said, bright and a little breathless.

  “Are you in class?”

  “No, I just got out. I’m walking back to the dorm.”

  “Okay.”

  “What’s going on?” she asked. “Have you been to court?”

  “Uh, yeah.” Eddie blinked. Court seemed years ago. “I ...
Chérie ...”

  “What?” Her voice took on a wary, urgent tone.

  “It’s my Pop. He ... he had a heart attack.” Eddie’s head ached as the tears swelled once more.

  “Oh, baby, no.” She said it so tenderly, he closed his eyes and imagined she was beside him. “I’m so sorry. Tell me.”

  “He’s gone. Just like that.”

  “Oh, sweetheart. I’ll come down.”

  Relief washed over him. “Would you?”

  “Yes. Yes, of course.”

  “You should stay in school.”

  “Not if you need me.”

  He pulled in a deep breath. “Wait until I find out when the funeral is, okay? I’m taking Maman to talk to them tomorrow. I’ll call you then.”

  “All right,” Leeanne said. “But I could come tonight.”

  “No. Do your homework and go to class in the morning. What time are you free?”

  “My last class ends at 2:15 tomorrow.”

  “I’ll call you then.”

  “Yes. I love you, and I’ll pray for you. All of you.” Her tenderness made him feel worse.

  “Merci, ma belle. Je t’aime.” He closed the connection and took a couple of deep breaths then called Harvey.

  “How’s it going, buddy?” Harvey asked.

  “It’s hard.”

  “Yeah.” Harvey paused. “I’m praying for you. I hope you don’t mind, but I told Mike and Jack.”

  “No, that’s okay.”

  “They’re praying, too.”

  “Thanks.” Eddie swallowed hard. “I had to call the undertaker and go tell my Mémé.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Oldest son, you know?” It came with duties.

  “Yeah,” Harvey said. “And only son at that. I understand.”

  Eddie blew out a big breath. “The priest is here.”

  “What, at your mother’s house?”

  Already, it was his mother’s house, not his parents’. Eddie’s chest tightened. “Yeah. Father Claude. The one who...”

  “I remember.”

  “He’s in there now with my mother and my grandmother, and he’s probably telling them my pop didn’t get the last rites, and he’s probably ... Oh, man. I don’t think I can go in there while he’s here. Maman’s going to want him to do the funeral.”

  “You can’t do anything about it, Eddie,” Harvey said. “You don’t want to upset your family now. God knows what you’re going through. Don’t let the priest upset you.”

  “Okay. You pray.”

  “I will. Do you want me to come over?”

  “No. You’ve got so much to do. I mean, Maman thinks a lot of you, but I don’t think it’s the best time right now.”

  “Sure.”

  “And Leeanne’s coming down. Maybe tomorrow. I’ve got to tell her when we set the funeral time, and she’ll at least be here for that.”

  “I’m glad,” Harvey said. “Hang in there, Eddie.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You’ll probably want to stay with your mother tonight, but come over to our place any time, any hour, if you just need to get away from it. I know families can be ...”

  “Yeah,” Eddie said. “They can.”

  Father Claude came out of the house as Eddie put his phone in his pocket.

  “Edouard.”

  Eddie nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

  The priest eyed him for a moment. “I guess you will come to the church this time. I’m very sorry about your father.”

  Eddie opened his mouth and closed it. Father Claude walked past him, got in the black car, and drove slowly away. Eddie took a few deep breaths and turned to the house.

  Lisa was in the kitchen. Eddie shut the door and unzipped his jacket.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey,” she said.

  “I’m sorry I told you to shut up.”

  Her face scrunched up like a squeezed-out sponge. “I shouldn’t have called you stupid.”

  Eddie took the first step, and she met him in front of the refrigerator.

  “Aw, Eddie what are we going to do without Pop?” Her words were muffled against his chest. She was probably crying all over his best courthouse necktie, but he held her and let her sob.

  *****

  He went the next morning to Harvey’s, arriving a little earlier than their running time. Harvey didn’t have his shoes on when he opened the door, and Eddie waited while he put them on. They stretched a little in the house and went out and ran in the crisp January air. As he sucked it into his lungs, Eddie thought what a fragile thing life was.

  After two miles, he slowed to a walk. His nose was running, and all the crying he’d done made it so he couldn’t breathe as well as he normally did. Harvey walked beside him back to his house, and they went in and sat in the kitchen. Jennifer had made coffee, and the three of them prayed together.

  It was nearly seven o’clock.

  “I should go home and shower and get ready to take Maman to the funeral parlor. Are you sure you don’t need me today?” Eddie half hoped Harvey would tell him to go to work.

  “No. Do what you need to. Oh, and Mike said they’ll postpone your hearing until next week.”

  That hurt. “It was supposed to be today.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You mean, I’ll be suspended longer?”

  Harvey shook his head. “I don’t think so. Take the rest of the week if you want to, and whenever you feel like it, come to the office. I’ll give you some computer work until Mike or the board or whoever needs to signs off on you.”

  “Are you working?”

  “Yeah. Mike said he couldn’t get by without me this week, but it’s desk work only.”

  “What about Higgins?” Eddie asked.

  “She’s on administrative leave, but they’re going to try to meet tomorrow, on her case and mine. If Mike can get them to push yours through at the same time, he will.”

  “Without me there?”

  “Extenuating circumstances, pal.”

  Eddie nodded. If he didn’t have to face the inquiry panel, that would make his life a smidgen easier.

  Jennifer reached over and squeezed his hand. “Is there anything we can do for you, Eddie?”

  He shook his head.

  “You tell us when the visiting hours will be.”

  “I will. Maman would probably like it if you both come. Mémé, too. They’re fans of Harvey’s, you know.”

  “They’re not still mad at me?” he asked.

  “I don’t think so.” Eddie’s family had blamed Harvey when Eddie left their church, but they still liked him.

  Jennifer said softly, “Harvey told me that the priest came around.”

  “Yeah.” Eddie grimaced. “He’s doing the funeral Mass. I was hoping it would be at the funeral home, but my mother wants it at the church.”

  “Well, I’m not sure this will help,” Jennifer said, “but there’s something I read yesterday that made me think of you, Eddie.”

  “I need all the help I can get.”

  Jennifer smiled. “I don’t know if I’m taking it right, but it’s in the Old Testament, telling about one of the prophets. Have you heard of a man called Naaman?”

  Eddie shook his head.

  “Well, he went to the prophet to get healed from his leprosy. And after he was healed, he asked a question. Hold on a sec.”

  She dashed into the sunroom.

  Eddie looked at Harvey.

  “I have no idea what she’s talking about,” Harvey said.

  “If Jennifer says it, she probably thinks it’s important.”

  “Yeah.”

  She came back carrying her rose-colored Bible. “Here it is. Elisha was the prophet, and when Naaman was healed, he went back to thank Elisha, and he told him he wouldn’t worship any idols from then on. But then he said when his master, who was the king of Syria, went to the idol temple, Naaman had to go with him. He was expected to, I guess.” She looked down at the Bible. “And Naaman sai
d, ‘When I bow myself in the house of Rimmon, the Lord pardon your servant in this matter.’ And Elisha told him, ‘Go in peace.’ You see?”

  Eddie shook his head.

  “I think it means God would forgive him for going to the idol temple with his master, because God knew his heart. It’s not the same as what you’re going through, but. . .Well, it’s saying God knows your heart.”

  Eddie thought about that. “Okay.” He smiled and leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Thank you. I’ll remember that when my mother starts in about the funeral.”

  Chapter 32

  Eddie went to the office the next morning. Harvey stood when he saw him and met him between the stairway door and his desk.

  “How are you doing?”

  “Okay. Better, in fact.”

  “Good. Visiting hours are tonight?”

  Eddie nodded. “And Leeanne is coming after her last class today.”

  “She called us. I’m glad.”

  “Yeah. She said she could take cuts tomorrow and stay until Sunday. So the funeral is Friday at one, and they can’t do the graveyard until May.” Spring burials were standard in the land of long winters with frozen ground.

  “The other guys and I will be there tonight and at the service,” Harvey said. “And let us know when they do the burial, and we’ll try to come for that, too.”

  “Thanks.” Eddie blinked hard. “Man, every time I think I’m okay, something hits me, you know?”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  Eddie nodded. Harvey would know.

  “Can I stay here today?”

  “Are you sure you want to?” Harvey asked.

  “Yeah. Yesterday was ... well, it wasn’t fun, but you know, I had to do that stuff. Help my mother.”

  “Sure.”

  “She wanted to see him.”

  “How was that?”

  Eddie hesitated and glanced at Harvey. “I thought I was going to pass out.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It didn’t look like him.”

  Harvey squeezed his shoulder. “I’ll find you something to do. They’re letting Jordan Quinlan off, and Misty, too, unless the D.A. can make a drug charge stick on her.”

  Eddie was glad he’d changed the subject. “I think it’s right that they’re letting Jordan walk. Those sleeping pills didn’t kill his brother, and he wasn’t even the one who gave them to him.”

  “No. Kyle made the decision to take a whopping dose of cocaine on top of it.”