Bitsy was starving when they got home. Faith sat her mother and daughter down at the kitchen table and served them peanut butter crackers, apple wedges, and carrots with ranch dressing. When Lovie refused to eat, Bitsy gobbled up everything on both their plates, and then played with Snowflake, their miniature cockapoo, for a few minutes before running off to do her homework.
Faith was placing their plates in the dishwasher when the house phone rang. She never answered her landline anymore, as telemarketers were the only people who ever called it. Thinking someone might be calling about the fire, she lifted the receiver, but she was not surprised when Heather greeted her in a cheerful voice with a special offer to win a vacation in paradise. Faith hung up the phone and lifted the receiver again. The stuttering dial tone prompted her to access waiting voice mail. When she punched in the code for her mailbox, the automated voice informed her that she had two missed messages. The first was a reminder from the pediatrician’s office of Bitsy’s checkup the following Tuesday. But the second voice message caused Faith to break out in a cold sweat. On Tuesday at 4:34 in the afternoon, nearly forty-eight hours ago, Bernard Fox, the warden at Broad River Correctional Institution in Columbia, had called to alert Faith that her ex-husband was being released on parole that very afternoon.
“I apologize for any inconvenience this may cause your family,” Warden Fox said in a tone that didn’t sound apologetic at all. “Curtis has exhibited exemplary behavior during his incarceration. Our prisons are overcrowded, and we can no longer accommodate him. Instead of keeping him locked up, our goal is to rehabilitate him into an honest, hard-working citizen. He will be required to live in a halfway house, find a job, and report regularly to his parole officer. If you have any questions or concerns, please do not hesitate to call me.”
Faith slammed down the receiver. Questions or concerns? Her husband had beaten her face to a bloody pulp, tormented her sister and their family for weeks on end, and they were turning him loose after serving only a fraction of his sentence. Fear crawled up her spine, and she fell into the nearest chair.
“Is something wrong, dear?” Lovie asked, the first words out of her mouth all afternoon.
Faith stared at her mother in disbelief. Lovie’s eyes were alert, and she wore an expression of concern.
She grabbed hold of her mother’s hand. “Tell me the truth, Mama. I promise you won’t get in trouble. Did you set the fire at the market?”
“Not me,” Lovie said, digging her thumb into her chest. “Your husband started the fire. I saw him with my own eyes.”
Faith frowned. “I don’t understand. Why on earth would Mike set the fire?”
Lovie’s face clouded over once again. “Who’s Mike?”
Faith pressed a hand against her belly, willing her lunch to stay down. “You know who Mike is, Mama. He’s my husband.”
“I don’t know who you’re talking about. Curtis is the one I saw running away from the fire.”
SIX
Jackie
Jackie pulled off the highway into a vacant parking lot while she spoke to her son by phone. It took her ten minutes to get him calmed down enough to tell her what had happened. He’d gotten caught using a fake ID at a local hangout in Athens. When he tried to argue his way out of a minor-in-possession charge, the officer arrested him. Sean was carrying a small amount of marijuana and two bars of Xanax. The police dropped the resisting-arrest charge, but the possession charges carried steep penalties—the possibility of jail time and a mandatory suspension of his driver’s license.
After hanging up, instead of taking a left toward Prospect, Jackie headed in the opposite direction, toward Athens, Georgia. She waited until she was clear of heavy traffic before calling her husband. Bill got in touch with their attorney, who reached out to one of his associates in Athens, who agreed to counsel their son through the arraignment. By the time Jackie arrived in Athens four and a half hours later, Sean had been released on bail.
Furious with her son and terrified to let him out of her sight lest he get into more trouble, she booked a room at the Holiday Inn and insisted he stay the night with her. Over dinner at the Last Resort Grill, Sean confirmed he would not be returning to Georgia in the fall. He’d failed every one of his second-semester classes.
“That’s just great, Sean. You wasted a year of your life and a hell of a lot of our money.”
She helped him move his things out of his dorm the following morning and paid one of his friends, a freshman girl from Charleston who didn’t have a car on campus, fifty dollars to drive his 4Runner to Prospect. Jackie and Sean arrived home late Friday afternoon. She ordered her son not to leave the property, went to her room, closed the door, and stretched out on the bed with a cold washcloth on her forehead.
Bill sought her out thirty minutes later when he arrived home from work. He sat down on the bed beside her. “I know you’re upset, Jack. But you need to settle down so we can handle this situation like rational parents. I’m sure I don’t need to remind you what happened the last time one of our boys was in trouble.”
Of course you don’t, Jackie thought. When Cooper had gotten his girlfriend—Jamie’s half sister, Annie—pregnant the winter before last, Jackie had torn her extended family apart by being insensitive and demanding. She was used to running her design business with an iron fist, holding her employees accountable when they made mistakes, because their mistakes cost her money and tarnished her reputation. But when it came to her boys, she wasn’t as efficient or as effective, and her emotions ran high. She felt like an utter failure as a parent.
She snatched the cloth off her head. “Why do you think I’m hiding out in here? The truth is, I’m protecting our son from me. I’m so angry at him I could inflict God only knows what kind of bodily harm on him.” She propped herself up on her elbows. “Since you’re the voice of calm and reason, how do you suggest we handle the situation?”
Her husband’s even temper infuriated her at times like these, when she felt so out of control. She reminded herself that he was a cardiovascular surgeon. His patients’ lives depended on his tranquility.
“I suggest we call Moses.” Bill showed her the phone in his hand. He was ready to make the call.
Jackie fell back against the pillows. “You’re a genius. Why didn’t I think of that? Big Mo is just the man we need.”
“I’m glad you agree. Let me see if I can reach him,” Bill said, scrolling through his contacts.
The tension drained from her body when she heard Moses’s deep voice through the phone when he answered Bill’s call. Even though he was trained as an adolescent psychiatrist, Dr. Moses Ingram had counseled several adult members of the Sweeney family over the years, including Faith after her divorce from Curtis and Sam when her drinking spiraled out of control. While Jackie and Bill had never sought his professional guidance, they considered him a friend. As did Cooper and Sean.
After exchanging pleasantries with Moses, Bill explained the situation and then listened for a minute before ending the call. “He’s on his way.” Bill stood up and pocketed his phone. “He’ll be here in a few minutes.”
Jackie swung her feet over the side of the bed. “I need to fix my face. I must look a mess.” Placing her hands on his shoulders, she pressed her lips to his. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Bill brushed her dark hair back from her face. “But remember, sweetheart, we must keep our minds open. He can’t help us if we aren’t willing to accept his advice.”
She gave a firm nod. “Point taken.”
#
Moss Creek Farm was a six-acre estate located five miles from the outskirts of Prospect. Live oak trees with Spanish moss dangling from their rambling branches bowed low over the gravel driveway and dotted the expansive lawn. With massive columns and a wide two-story porch, the old Georgian was set on a hill overlooking the marshy inlet. The main living space, including the kitchen and master bedroom, was located on the second floor, with a game room for the boys occupying t
he ground level and three bedrooms on the third floor. The age of the property made it a maintenance nightmare, but Jackie took meticulous care of the buildings and grounds.
Jackie and Bill were waiting for Moses on the back terrace when he drove up in his little red sports car. She’d never understood how this gigantic black man could cram his enormous body into such a tiny space. Big Mo engulfed Jackie in a bear hug, his strong arms offering reassurance that everything would be okay.
Bill extended his hand to Moses. “Thank you for coming to our rescue on such short notice. Especially on a Friday afternoon. I’m sure you have other plans.”
“Not at all. My patients, or in your case my friends, are my priority. I’m sorry to hear Sean is having some trouble.” His eyes traveled to the solitary figure on the dock—lanky body and auburn head bent over a fishing rod. “Do you have another rod? I’d like to chat with him first before I sit down with the two of you.”
“Fine by us. Let me get you a rod.” Bill disappeared into the garage and returned less than a minute later. “Here you go.” He handed Moses the rod. “This one is already rigged for flounder.”
Jackie and Bill watched as he tromped across the lawn and out onto the dock. When Sean looked up at Moses and smiled, Jackie said, “I feel better already.”
Bill rested his hand on the small of her back. “He’s good at what he does. Probably the best around. But he’s not a miracle worker. Xanax is a highly addictive antianxiety medication. I’m worried Sean may have already crossed the line from recreational use to addiction. This may be only the beginning of our problems.”
Jackie, no stranger to Xanax, took it during times of stress or on nights when she couldn’t sleep. But since learning of her son’s arrest, she’d taken way more than as needed. Did that make her a hypocrite? She didn’t think so. After all, her dosage was small and her usage carefully monitored by her internist.
Moses spoke with Sean for more than an hour. Jackie was slicing vegetables to roast for their dinner when he came back up to the house. She wiped her hands on her apron and slipped it over her head. “How’d it go?”
“We had an open and frank discussion. We’re off to a good start, but only time will tell how deep-seated his problems really are.”
“Let’s sit down.” She motioned him toward the adjoining family room. “Can I offer you some sweet tea or something stronger, perhaps? It is six o’clock on Friday night.”
He held his big palm out to her, declining her offer. “I’m fine. I’m meeting my wife at a cookout later.”
“And we’re making you late. I’m sorry. Let me get Bill.” She called out to her husband, who was down the hall in his study.
Once they were seated, Bill and Jackie on the sofa and the therapist next to them in a tufted armchair, Moses said, “I don’t need to tell you that your son has had a difficult year at Georgia. Not everyone is cut out for big SEC party schools. For the first time in his life, Sean was forced to face the world without his twin by his side. Plain and simple, he’s suffering from an identity crisis.”
“But Sean has always been the more confident and assertive of the two,” Jackie said.
Moses nodded. “Because he’s always had Cooper’s quiet strength guiding him. Joining a fraternity can be a good thing at a school the size of Georgia. But in Sean’s case, he became a follower instead of the leader he was in high school. And he followed some of his pledge brothers into some very bad habits like skipping class and experimenting with drugs.”
“Did you get a feel for the extent of this experimentation?” Bill asked.
“Unfortunately, no. He seemed reluctant to go into detail.”
Tears stung Jackie’s eyes. Bill was right. Moses could not offer them a quick fix. “I was selfish in wanting him to go to my alma mater. I never stopped to think about the social challenges a boy from a small town would face.”
Moses leaned in close to her. “You can’t blame yourself, Jackie. Some kids thrive on large campuses. But I definitely wouldn’t send him back there, even if it is an option, which it doesn’t sound like it is.”
“Maybe he should take some time off from school,” Bill suggested.
“If you do that, you’ll run the risk that he’ll never go back. He needs to be in school, somewhere smaller, with more structure in his life. I mentioned the College of Charleston to him. He seemed to like the idea. I have a friend in the admissions office who might be able to help if you’re interested. I would not let him join a fraternity, though, and I would think twice about allowing him to live on campus. Every college in this country has its share of drug problems right now.”
Jackie considered the logistics. “He could stay with me in my house on Lamboll during the week and come here on the weekends.” Her nest would not be empty, but the arrangement would allow her to focus on her career while keeping tabs on her son.
“Talk it over amongst yourselves. If you decide to proceed, I recommend getting his application in right away.” Moses clasped his hands. “Now, with that said, my bigger concern is for his immediate future. Sean tells me he’d planned to work at the market this summer. I get the impression he doesn’t know about the fire. And I didn’t mention it to him. It’s probably better for him to hear the news from you.”
“Darn it.” Jackie squeezed her eyes tight. “I totally forgot about the fire in all the confusion with his arrest.”
“Understandably so,” Moses said. “I’m sorry, by the way, about the fire. I know how much Captain Sweeney’s meant to your family. I plan to give Sam a call this weekend.”
“I’m sure she’ll appreciate that.” Jackie made a mental note to check in with Sam. She prayed her mother had returned to reality. The last thing she needed was another crisis.
“Sean will have to find another job,” Bill said. “I’m going to insist he help pay for his legal expenses. He needs to be held accountable for his actions.”
Moses’s lips turned up into a gentle smile. “I’m glad to hear you say that. When considering a job for the summer, remember that physical activity is a good choice for a boy his age. One thing I’ve always admired about Cooper and Sean is their love for the outdoors. Maybe he can work on one of the fishing boats.”
Jackie wrinkled her nose. “My father was a fisherman, Moses. It’s a hard life. Forgive me for wanting something better for my son.”
“I understand your point, but the seafood business has served your family well.”
Bill stroked her knee. “Not everyone can be a doctor or a lawyer, Jack. Maybe we should have Cooper talk to him. He seems to have his future all planned out.”
Skepticism crossed Big Mo’s face. “I’m not sure I’d do that just yet. I got the impression that Sean is intimidated by his brother’s success. Look.” Moses planted his elbows on his beefy thighs. “Sean needs to figure out what he’s good at and how to translate it into a career. We all know the most successful people are the ones who make careers out of the things they love to do. Jackie, you’re a perfect example of that.
“Let me tell you, that kid knows his way around a fishing rod. He’s got a cooler full of flounder out on that dock, and I didn’t catch a single one of them. The College of Charleston has a hospitality and tourism management program similar to the one Jamie is studying at Carolina. I’m not saying he has to be a fisherman, but there are any number of careers he might find interesting.” With a glance at his watch, he stood to go. “I need to get to my cookout before my wife comes looking for me.”
Jackie and Bill followed him to the stairs.
“Sean is a good kid,” Moses said. “He’s gonna be just fine. I’d like to continue working with him if that’s something you’re interested in.”
Jackie shot a questioning look at Bill, who nodded in return. “That goes without saying. We are in over our heads here, Moses.”
“In that case, I’ll have my receptionist call you on Monday to set up some appointments. In the meantime, keep a close eye on him. Depending on how much a
nd how often he was using Xanax, he may exhibit sudden and severe withdrawal symptoms. You’re a cardiologist, Bill. I’m sure you’re aware of this. We can’t rule out the possibility of rehab.”
They walked in a single file down the stairs to the game room. Moses turned to them as he opened the door. “You have my number. Call me anytime, day or night.”
Sean was waiting beside Moses’s car with a gallon-size ziplock bag full of flounder fillets. Big Mo’s face lit up. “Are those for me?”
Sean nodded and hung his head.
“You’re a good man.” Moses offered him a fist bump as he took the bag of fish. “These will get me out of the doghouse with my wife.” Placing a hand on Sean’s shoulder, Moses drew him in close and whispered something Jackie couldn’t hear that brought a smile to her son’s face.
Moses got in his car and drove off.
“We have a lot to talk about,” Bill said once his car was out of sight.
Noticing the tears in her son’s eyes, Jackie said, “Let’s wait until after dinner.” She watched Sean’s dash across the yard and down the hill to the dock. “I feel like I might throw up,” she said as she leaned against her husband.
“Tell me about it.” Bill wrapped his arm around her.
“I’ll never sleep again for worrying about him. He’ll be married with children before I’m comfortable letting him out of my sight.”
He chuckled. “That might make it difficult for him to have those children.”
They stood on the terrace and watched their son reel in a small flounder. He removed the hook from its mouth and tossed it back into the water.
Jackie closed her eyes and tilted her head to the sky. “I stink at crisis management when it comes to the boys. After the way I treated Cooper, I’m grateful he’s even speaking to me. But Cooper is his own person. He had the guts to stand up to me, to defend Annie when I was so hard on her about the pregnancy. Sean is more volatile, though, more pigheaded like me. I’m worried I’ll say the wrong thing and drive him away. Which is why I’ve hardly said anything to him since all this happened.”
Saturdays at Sweeney's Page 5
