Peggy Dulle - Liza Wilcox 04 - Saddle Up

by Peggy Dulle

  “It tore me apart when I had to disappear and the feelings between the two of you escalated into out-and-out war.”

  “They did not,” I told him.

  “When was the last time you talked to her?”

  “I left her a message when I got back from Texas.”

  “Did she call you back?”

  “No.”

  “And before that?”

  “We spoke the day before I left on the cruise,” I told him.

  “Oh, you enjoyed an easy-going discussion about what each of you was doing, how your life was going, what was making you happy or sad?” Dad asked.

  “No,” I confessed. I remember the conversation being quite terse.

  “Did you know that she and Sam were seeing each other again?”

  “Really?” I asked. Jordan and Sam were a hot item many years ago, but he went to Chicago or someplace like that and they ended it - which in my book had been a good thing. He was a hothead with an explosive temper and seriously in need of some major medication for depression and manic episodes that left mounds of charge card receipts all over the townhouse that he and Jordan shared.

  “Yes. They’ve been back together for almost a year, Liza.”

  “It’s not my fault if she never calls me.”

  Dad lifted up my left hand and asked, “So then, you’ve told her that you and Tom are engaged?”

  “No.”

  He let my hand go and said, “I rest my case. I want you to put that locket someplace where it will remind you that you and your sister are family and someday you will only have each other.”

  I grabbed his arm and said, “Oh no, you better not desert me again.”

  Dad said, “I have no intention of leaving you again, willingly, but destiny is a strange thing – you never know where it will lead you. Now, I’m exhausted. I’ve been on the road for the last five days. I’m off to bed. Which room is not doused with anti-bacterial solutions and allergy-proofed sheets?”

  “I set up the room on the left for you.”

  Dad kissed me on top of my head, picked up the black duffle-bag and walked down the hall.

  Jordan was back with Sam? How could that be? He was a crazy man, bordering on sociopathic tendencies, and my sister deserved better!

  CHAPTER 3

  After I set the locket on top of the small jewelry box I kept on top of the dresser in my bedroom, I changed and climbed into bed. Unfortunately, I tossed and turned all night, thinking about the conversation with my dad and the fact that Sam was back in Jordan’s life. Being around him could be compared to riding a rollercoaster down a trackless hill. His emotions spiked with more highs and lows than the tide. Sam never physically abused my sister, but he once threw a set of keys at her that stuck in the wall over her head, constantly maxed out their credit cards, and sometimes spent days in bed. He was the poster child for the mentally challenged.

  I’m a big believer in pharmaceuticals, so I told her to take him to a doctor and get him medicated. Nobody listened. Then one day, he disappeared. Jordan heard from him six months later. He had been living on the streets of Chicago. I said “good riddance to bad rubbish” but Jordan hadn’t agreed.

  Why did she let him trick her into getting back on the carnival ride? She was a beautiful woman and could have her pick of men, yet she always picked losers. Her boyfriend in high school, Jake, had more paint on his body than any museum. The tattoos started on his neck and went down both his arms and chest. His Harley would roar up our street and she would scream in delight. And even though I was older, I would hide under my bed – that guy scared the hell out of me.

  In college there was a slew of men that I couldn’t keep track of. And then she went to law school and met Sam, who was finishing his doctorate in biochemistry. Three years later, she was an assistant district attorney with fifty thousand dollars in credit card debt, and Sam disappeared. The credit cards were all in Sam’s name and she could have just walked away from them, but she didn’t. She paid every one off, saying that she didn’t want to ruin Sam’s credit. My sister is a brilliant lawyer, but most days I wonder about her common sense.

  Around five a.m., Shelby went nuts because someone rang the doorbell.

  “Hello, Jordan,” I said out loud.

  “I’ll let her in,” my dad yelled from his room.

  Jordan is an early riser and she thinks everyone else should get up with the sun, too. I was already sorry she was here!

  A few seconds later, I heard Fifi’s high-pitched squeal. Oh, how nice, I thought, she’s brought her pet to torment my dog, too.

  “Shelby!” my dad yelled.

  “Fifi!” Jordan screamed.

  I hid under the covers. Several minutes later the house quieted and I felt someone plop on my bed. Probably Shelby trying to escape the rat.

  The covers were pulled away. Jordan sat on my bed. She was dressed in a vibrant blue sweater and black jeans. Her makeup was perfect, as was her hair. Hadn’t she just arrived from a six-hour flight and then an hour-long drive from the airport?

  “Hi, Sis,” she said.

  “Good morning, Jordan,” I said and pulled the covers back over my head.

  She laughed. “Sorry I’m so early. The only flight I could get on the one-day notice Dad gave me was at one o’clock this morning out of JFK.”

  Did she just apologize to me?

  She pulled the covers away and said, “Dad is fixing breakfast.”

  “Oh, yummy.” I rolled my eyes.

  Jordan laughed. “I know. I haven’t enjoyed egg substitute or imitation bacon in years. It will be wonderful, Dad’s a great cook. Come on.”

  I sat up, rubbed my eyes and said, “Where’s my dog?”

  “She’s outside reacquainting herself with Fifi.”

  “She knows Fifi, remember? They spent a lovely day together several years ago.”

  Jordan laughed again. “Well, I will be here a couple of days and Fifi can’t spend the entire time under your back deck.”

  “She might,” I told her.

  She tugged at hand. “Come on, Dad’s already put his concoction into the oven.”

  Jordan pulled me down the hallway and into the kitchen. She was right; the counter was clear which meant that Dad had placed the frying pan into the oven to let the ingredients cook together. I had to admit, it smelled heavenly.

  “Have some juice, Liza,” he said as he handed me a glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice.

  I really prefer apple juice, but took the glass and sat down at the dining room table. Jordan joined me with her own glass.

  She leaned forward and whispered, “I’d rather have a cup of coffee, but Dad insisted upon the juice.”

  “I’m an apple juice or tea fan, myself,” I told her.

  We both laughed quietly and drank our orange juice. A few minutes later, Shelby came into the room and sat down next to me.

  “Where’s Fifi?” I asked.

  Shelby barked.

  “Under the porch?” I asked.

  Shelby barked again.

  “Oh, she’ll come out eventually,” Jordan replied, as dad came over with the frying pan and three plates.

  “Let’s eat,” he said.

  The aroma of eggs, vegetables, and spices was only half as good as the taste. I wolfed down three helpings and didn’t even miss my morning bacon.

  “What should we do today?” Dad asked.

  “Disneyland is only an hour away by plane?” I suggested. As a family, we used to love amusement parks.

  “I’d rather not, if that’s okay,” Jordan said. “I just got off a six hour flight and I don’t think I can sit in those cramped seats again.”

  Was she just polite? Where was my sister? What had this person done with her? Maybe she was an alien in my sister’s skin like in the movie, Men in Black.

  “Maybe we can plan a trip to Disneyland next time?” my dad suggested. “We’d have to drive, since I don’t like to put my face out in airports.”

  Jordan a
nd I looked at each other. Both of us had forgotten that Dad was a wanted man.

  “That’s okay,” I said. “I’d want to spend more than a day or two in Disneyland. It’s a five-day place, at least.”

  Jordan agreed and we dropped the subject.

  Jordan and I cleaned up the breakfast dishes while Dad used my computer. I didn’t ask what he was doing.

  “So, I hear that Sam’s back in your life,” I said as an opener.

  “Yes, and you were right.”

  “Right about what?” I asked.

  “He finally went to see a doctor. He’s bipolar and on three different medications. He’s stable and works at a pharmaceutical company in New York. He’s the head of their research and development department that specializes in diabetes drugs.”

  “He never lacked for brains,” I muttered under my breath.

  “And I was an enabler,” she said.

  “Enabler?”

  “Yes, I’ve been to a counselor myself.” She put her arm around my shoulder. “If I had listened to you, it could have saved me thousands of dollars in therapy, Sis.”

  “I am the older and wiser sister,” I told her.

  She dipped her hand into the dishwater and blew a bubble of soap at me. It missed me by a long way. I reached in and grabbed my own small handful and wafted them back at her. I have a better aim, plus my kindergarten students love bubbles, so I have more experience. It hit directly on the arm of her lovely blue sweater.

  Then Jordan scooped up a larger handful, smiled and blew them at me. They landed on the front of my shirt. I smiled back, grabbed two handfuls and threw them at her. Then we put both hands into the sink and threw water and bubbles at each other as we giggled and slid on the soapy floor.

  A few minutes later, when my dad stood at the kitchen doorway, Jordan and I were soaking wet and covered in bubbles. And laughing, something I didn’t think I would ever do with my sister.

  He came into the kitchen, grabbed the sprayer from the sink and let both of us have it. Water flew through the air; we laughed, slipped on the floor and fell. I felt better than I had in years. It was like a heavy weight had been lifted from my chest and it felt fabulous!

  My cell phone rang and I slipped in the water as I tried to get to answer it. Jordan and Dad laughed harder.

  “Stop!” I told them, between hysterical episodes of laughter, myself.

  “Hello!” I shouted into the phone.

  “Liza?” Tom’s voice asked.

  I giggled and pointed to the phone. “It’s Tom.”

  Dad immediately stood up, his face serious.

  Jordan continued to laugh and said, “Say hi to the cop for me!”

  “Who’s there?” Tom asked.

  “My sister surprised me with a visit,” I told him.

  “Jordan?”

  “Yeah,” I giggled. “I only have one sister.”

  “What are the two of you doing?”

  “We had a water fight in the kitchen,” I told him.

  Tom laughed. “Sounds like fun. I wish I was there.”

  That sobered me up quick. He couldn’t be here.

  “What’s up, Tom? I thought you said you were in training all day,” I said.

  “I drove all the way to Sacramento this morning and the training doesn’t start until ten, so I thought I’d call and see how you’re doing.”

  “I’m fine,” I told him.

  “I can hear that. How long is your sister staying? I’d love to meet her.”

  I looked from Dad to Jordan and then back again. Dad shrugged and went out my screen door.

  “Hello, Liza?” I heard Tom’s voice in the phone.

  “Oh, sorry, Tom,” I said, pulling my attention back to the phone and not on my back yard.

  “I’ve got to get back to New York on Monday,” Jordan finally said, then went back toward the kitchen.

  “She’ll be gone by the time you get here on Tuesday,” I said.

  “That’s another thing. I definitely have to be in court all afternoon on Tuesday and maybe even Wednesday morning. I’ll be there sometime Wednesday afternoon.”

  “Okay, Tom. I’ll see you then.”

  “I should let you get back to your water fight. Use the sprayer on the sink, it works really well. I’ll talk to you later, if I can.”

  “Okay.”

  “Love you,” he said.

  “Yeah, me too,” I said and set the phone on the table. Normally, I would tell him I loved him, but it felt weird with Dad and Jordan here.

  When I got back to the kitchen, I said, “Hey, I just cleaned this place yesterday.”

  Jordan giggled, threw a sponge at me and said, “Not on my account, I hope. I’m not as germ phobic as I used to be.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, counseling works very well.”

  I put my arm around her shoulder and said, “I’m glad.” Then rubbed the sponge in her hair.

  A few minutes later we cleaned up the mess and found Dad sitting on the back porch, Shelby on one side, Fifi on the other. Shelby had that look in her eye she gets when she sees a bike coming down the road and she’s getting ready to chase it away.

  “Hey, my dog got out from under the porch,” Jordan said.

  “It took a little coaxing but yes, she did.” Dad patted Shelby on the head. “And Shelby is trying very hard to contain herself.”

  “Hey, where are Fifi’s clothes?” I asked, noticing for the first time that the dog didn’t have on its usual attire.

  “Oh, I stopped dressing her a few months ago. She looked ridiculous and she’s much happier now, too. Those clothes made her hot and gave her a heat rash.”

  “Damn,” I told her. “What have you done with my sister, Jordan?”

  “I know I was a pain in the ass, Sis.”

  I blew out a long exasperated breath, letting go of all the pent up anger and emotion I felt toward my sister for so many years. “Well, it seems you are better now.”

  “How about a game?” Dad suggested.

  “I’ve got UNO,” I said.

  Jordan squealed, Dad laughed and we went into the house. We grew up with a game night each week. We would take out all of our board and card games and start playing. We always started with UNO. Whoever won got to choose the next game. The rule was whenever you got a “bad” card, like reverse, draw two, or draw four, you could tell your opponents something they did or said that bothered you, and they weren’t allowed to comment. It was a great way to get things off your chest.

  The first four cards that Jordan and I sent Dad’s way, we said, “I didn’t like it when you disappeared and let me believe that you were dead.”

  As I was getting ready to play the fifth – a draw four, Dad held up his hand and said, “Come on girls, I’m sure there are some things you’d like to say to each other.”

  Jordan and I looked at each other. I reshuffled my cards.

  The next draw two card I got, I sent Jordan’s way and said, “I don’t like the way you waltz in after six hours on a plane and look like you could stroll down a New York runway.”

  Jordan nodded but didn’t say a word.

  My turn came a few cards later.

  She threw down a Reverse to me and said, “I don’t like the way you are always perfect, your behavior and everything. You never got in trouble as a kid and never did anything wrong. You’re Mary Poppins.”

  “She was only practically perfect in every way,” I muttered.

  “Liza,” Dad scolded.

  I sighed and looked back at my cards.

  On my next opportunity, I looked my sister in the eyes and spoke from my heart, “Jordan, it scares me that you’re back with Sam. His temper is so explosive and I’m afraid you’ll get hurt.”

  Jordan’s eyes watered but she didn’t make a comment.

  The game continued.

  We were each down to a couple of cards, when Jordan played a draw four card to me. She said, “And it scares me that you’re in love with a cop who mig
ht arrest Dad and then they’ll take him away from us again.”

  My gut clenched as she verbalized my own fears. No matter what, I wouldn’t be an orphan again!

  In the end, I won, so I picked the next game – Clue. I hoped my last three adventures might help me win the game. Jordan always knew the murderer, room, and weapon within a few moves. Maybe it was her job, but she never missed. This time I knew both the killer and room before she announced the right sequence.

  Since she won, she chose backgammon and played with my dad. I watched because I could never get the hang of that game. The way you roll the dice and then choose which checker or checkers to move was just too complicated for me.

  Jordan won and she chose Battleship with me as her opponent.

  We’ve played this game many times and she’s never come close to beating me. She either sets all her ships around the outside perimeter of her grid or she puts them in a clump. Within four moves I knew she had clumped them into the right quadrant of her grid. After that, I sank all of her ships.

  I choose checkers and Dad.

  “Oh, Liza,” Jordan moaned. “You never win against Dad. He’ll have four kings before you even have one and then he’ll wipe you out.”

  “We’ll see,” I said, setting up the board. Actually, I might have a chance this time. Last month my class played the game with their “buddy class” of second grade students. Their job was to teach my kids the game. I must have watched fifty games being played and some of the second graders were very good.

  “This won’t take long,” Jordan said. “I’ll go get us all another drink.”

  She went into the kitchen and I used a few of the moves I learned.

  When Jordan came back with her Dr. Pepper, my Diet Coke and Dad’s Coke, she sat down and said, “Liza, you still have some pieces?”

  I nodded and got my first king. A few moves later and I had another.

  “Get his king. Trap it, Liza,” Jordan prompted.

  In the end, Dad and I each had three kings that chased each other all over the board. I took the first king, so it was three to two. Dad took the next two. Then I trapped one of his kings and took it. It was one to one and I used a move I saw a second-grader teach my student, Glen. I backed off and let Dad chase me right into a trap. He only had two moves and I would take his king, no matter where he went.