by Lia Farrell
After lunch, again served al fresco, the skies clouded up again, so she shepherded the kids inside for another movie. Then July went upstairs to call her closest friend, Sandi Townsend, who lived down the street from her in Rosedale.
Sandi answered on the first ring. “July, where are you? I haven’t seen you or the kids. I went for a run this morning and saw Fred sitting on your front steps. He looked awful. Is everything okay with you guys?” Sandi could carry a conversation all by herself.
“I’m at the lake house with the kids, and honestly things aren’t great. Do you have a minute to talk?”
“I’m just leaving to take my kids to the doctor’s office. I missed some immunizations for them, and they have to get them before school starts. Can I call you back?”
“That’s fine. Call me when you’re alone.”
“I’ll call you as soon as I can. Do you want me to check on Fred tonight?”
“No, Sandi, don’t. He’s hardly a child. I’m sure he’s fine.” July clenched her fists until the nails bit into her palms. “I’ll talk to you later. Bye.”
July watched Finding Nemo with her kids in the basement, laughing at the movie the way she always did. Then she broke her own rule and ordered pizza for dinner without making a salad to go with it. The kids were thrilled.
“Yay, no yucky green stuff,” Livy exclaimed, then chowed down four pieces of pizza.
“What’s for dessert?” Parker asked. “Can we go out for ice cream?” July didn’t answer right away.
“Please, Mommy, please?” They all chimed in.
“Oh, why not?” July asked the rhetorical question. In the stampede for the door, Parker knocked his sister into the side of the refrigerator and kept on going. July pulled her daughter to her feet.
“Are you okay, sweetie?”
Olivia’s forehead had a rapidly purpling welt. She blinked her eyes and started to sway.
“I don’t think so, Mommy.” Her six-year-old collapsed on the kitchen floor.
After telling the boys to get into the car, July picked Olivia up, grabbed her purse and car keys and ran out the door.
Chapter Thirty-Three
July Powell
July laid her daughter’s limp body in the front passenger seat of her Suburban and buckled the seat belt across her little chest and shoulders. Nate and Parker were already in the third-row seat in back.
“Why does Livy get to sit up there, and not in her booster?” Nate whined.
“Because we’re taking her to the hospital. I think she has a concussion.” July spoke calmly in the startled silence that followed those words. “I always tell you two not to be so rough with your little sister, and now look what’s happened.” She closed the passenger door and went around to get into the driver’s seat.
“Stupid! Now we can’t get ice cream,” was the first thing she heard after she closed the door. “It’s not my fault, Mom. Parker pushed her, not me.”
Parker started to cry. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt her.”
Dear God, help me. July started the car and put it in gear. She decided to ignore the boys rather than scream at them about their selfishness. That wouldn’t do any good right now. Olivia’s eyes fluttered, and July heard her murmur, then she threw up all over herself.
“Livy, can you hear me, honey?” Her daughter looked at July with wide eyes.
“Where am I?”
“We’re in the car sweetheart. You hit your head. We’re going to the hospital right now, as fast as we can.” Tears squirted from Olivia’s eyes and she swiped the vomit from her chin.
“I don’t want to go to the hospital,” she wailed. “I want to go home. I want my daddy!”
July saw blue lights flashing in her rearview mirror. She looked at her speedometer and realized she was going eighty miles an hour. She slowed down, put her turn-signal on and eased off onto the shoulder of the road. Putting her window down, she waited for the officer to come to her window.
“Ma’am, do you know how fast you were going back there?” The Highway Patrolman was a gray-haired man with a strong jaw. He bent down to the window and peered into the interior of the car with a suspicious glare.
“I know I was going too fast, Officer.” July gestured at her sobbing six-year-old. “I think she’s concussed. I’m trying to get her to the hospital.” She looked back at her sons, wide-eyed and, for once, silent, in the back of the vehicle. “I’ve got my boys with me too, as you can see.”
The patrolman rubbed his jaw. “All right then. I’m Lieutenant Whyte. Do you want to follow me, or shall we load y’all into my car?”
“Your car!” The boys chorused. Lieutenant Whyte looked at July.
“Up to you, Ma’am.”
“I’m July Powell. Olivia and I will follow you, but Nathan and Parker can ride in your car, if that’s okay with you.” The boys scrambled out and slammed the door behind them.
“Is there anyone you’d like me to call to meet us at Good Shepherd?”
“My husband, Fred Powell.” She gave him Fred’s cellphone number.
“Will do, you just keep up with me. I’ll get you there.”
He walked away before July could thank him. She watched him usher the boys into his car, then climb in and take off with a spray of gravel. Pulling out right behind him, July glanced over at Olivia.
“Hang on, Livy. Your daddy’s going to meet us there.”
Olivia was pale and trembling. Her nose was running and her shirt was soaked with vomit. She nodded wordlessly. July put the accelerator to the floor.
July was in the exam room with her daughter, trying to keep her awake. She had texted her mother and Mae, promising to update them when she knew more. The police had contacted Fred, and she hoped that her parents would come and pick up the boys soon.
The twins were out in the waiting area. The ride in a patrol car had been the highlight of their summer, but after all the excitement they’d faded fast. Last time she had checked on them in the gray plastic chairs of the ER waiting area, they were almost asleep.
Olivia had been examined by the triage nurse, who said, “I don’t like the look of her pupils.” She had left them in the room and gone to call Dr. Selfridge, the on-call Pediatric Resident. He’d ordered a CT, and they were waiting for results. Olivia’s eyes were fluttering, closing again. She looked tiny in the ER cot, dressed in a hospital gown with her normally buoyant hair matted to her head. July had cleaned her up as best she could, but the little girl still smelled faintly of vomit. The bump on her forehead was swollen and purple.
“You’ve got to keep your eyes open, honey,” July reminded her softly. She picked up her daughter’s limp hand.
“I can’t stay awake anymore, Mommy, I’m so tired.”
“Yes you can.” Fred Powell stood in the doorway. “Can I come in, or is this a girl’s only room?”
“You can come in, Daddy.” Olivia gave him a solemn look. “But Nate and Parker are not allowed.”
Fred walked to the other side of the cot from July, pulled a chair over and sat down. He took Olivia’s hand and rubbed it.
Looking over at July, he said, “Do you need a break?”
“I’ll go check on the boys.” July stood up.
“They’re fine. Your parents took them to the cafeteria.”
“Mama and Daddy got here?”
He nodded, his expression somber. “I was at their house when the officer called. They followed me. They offered to take Nate and Parker home with them. Then we can stay with Livy if they admit her.”
July stretched and rolled her head from side to side. “I’m … glad you’re here, Fred. She’s been asking for you.” She looked into his light blue eyes. “And we need to talk, but it doesn’t have to be right now. I’ll go track down my parents and tell them to take the boys and go.”
Fred smiled. “You know they’re not leaving without seeing her, right?”
“I know.”
After July located the rest of the family in the
cafeteria and her parents had kissed Olivia and left with the boys in tow, Dr. Selfridge stuck his head in the door.
“The CT scan looks good. I think you can take this brave little lady on home.”
Fred crossed himself. “Oh, thank God. Did you hear that, Livy? You can sleep in your own bed tonight.”
“Not exactly,” the doctor said. “She does have a concussion. You can let her sleep for twenty minutes out of every hour, but you’ll have to do that for the next twenty four hours. If she starts to vomit again or loses consciousness, you should call 911.”
July and her husband both looked at him in dismay.
“You’ll have to take turns and set an alarm so you don’t all sleep too long. The good news is, there’s no sign of a skull fracture.”
Skull fracture? July felt sick. Fred’s normally pale complexion had faded to ash.
“Should we take her to the lake house, or back home to Rosedale?” Fred asked.
“Rosedale. She’ll be closer to Vanderbilt Children’s Hospital if anything goes wrong. The nurse will be in with some paperwork for you. Good-bye, Miss Olivia.”
Livy gave him a half-hearted smile and a little wave.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Mae December
It was August 10th, the day of Tommy’s memorial service. Mae hurried from her car into the All Saint’s Church and found a seat in the back. To her surprise—given how long Tommy had been away from town—the congregation filled the church. She didn’t see her parents or July. With Olivia’s accident, they couldn’t make it. She had heard that Olivia had made it through the night just fine. Miranda and her husband were in the front row, and Dan and Bethany Cooper turned their heads to look when the door opened to admit Ben, Tammy, and Patrick. The three of them slid in next to Mae just as the organist began to play. The man in an expensive suit in front of her looked back and nodded at Ben, who stiffened beside her.
“What’s Townsend doing here?” Ben whispered in her ear.
“Greg was in Tommy’s fraternity. I guess he’s paying his respects. Shh ….”
The minister walked into the sanctuary and paused beside the casket. The organist played softly while he stood staring down at the closed casket that contained the body of Tommy Ferris, the man her sister had once loved. The Reverend Father Joseph Brice ascended to the altar and began to speak.
“I normally think of death as a blessed homecoming.” His voice was soft, yet it carried to every corner of the old stone church. Light flooded through the stained glass windows, casting shadows of reds and blues across his thin face. “But Thomas John Ferris was taken from us too soon. On the verge of reconnecting with his family, he was struck down.”
Miranda sobbed loudly from the front pew. The smell of lilies floated through the warm air. Ben took Mae’s hand and squeezed it as the tears began to roll down her face. She looked over at Tammy, whose face was buried in Patrick’s shoulder.
“At times like this, the love of our Heavenly Father can seem out of reach,” Father Brice continued, “but we won’t know the strength of the anchor until we’re tested by the storm.”
All the women and several of the men in the church were crying openly now. Reverend Brice took a deep breath. “I know, deep in my heart, that we’ll be reunited with Tom one day, and that he’s at peace now. Let us pray.”
“Do you want to go to the cemetery?” Ben asked Mae.
They were standing by her car in the sunny parking lot after the conclusion of the emotionally draining service. Patrick and Tammy had already left, and Mae and Ben were watching as the rest of the mourners filed out. Miranda emerged, supported by her husband. Bethany Cooper went over to her with her hands outstretched, but Miranda and her husband walked right past and climbed into a waiting limousine.
“I think that’s just for the family,” Mae answered.
“Well, then the Coopers should be in that limo with Miranda.”
“Why? Miranda was the only family Tommy had left,” Mae replied in confusion.
“Bethany’s Miranda’s half-sister.” Ben put his arm around her shoulders. “You look wrung out. Let’s go get a coffee and I’ll explain.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Mae December
After having coffee with Ben, Mae made the short drive to her sister’s house. She still wished that Ben had not kept the information about Bethany Cooper from her. Sometimes it was hard being involved with a sheriff. She knew his duty was to the job and the citizens of Rose County, but it wasn’t easy when she felt cut off from part of his life. Ben asked her to keep quiet about Bethany, but it was especially problematic keeping information about this case from July, given her history with Tommy. And it was very hard to keep Ben in the dark about what July had shared.
On the drive, Mae thought about her role in the family as the loyal little sister. Since she was a toddler, July and her parents—especially her mother—had been in charge of her life, protecting her and gently telling her what to do. Getting engaged to Noah had helped her separate her life from theirs, but after he died, she was devastated. Her mother and sister quickly moved back to their places as older, wiser guardian angels. Keeping secrets from her family went against everything Mae believed in. I’m at a crossroads here. She took in a deep, shaky breath.
Driving into July and Fred’s neighborhood, she crossed her fingers that Olivia was okay and that July and Fred had reconciled. Her sister’s Suburban was in the parking court in front of their large, Georgian style home. One of the three garage doors was open, and Fred’s navy blue Mercedes was parked at an odd angle inside. Everything was quiet.
Three newspapers lay at the end of the cobblestone driveway. Mae parked her car and walked back to the street to pick up the newspapers—two waterlogged and one dry. She checked the mailbox and added the substantial pile of mail to the top of the dry newspaper. Carrying the two wet papers in her other hand, she walked through the open garage door and set everything down on the counter.
She threw the soggy papers into the nearby trashcan and began to whittle down the stack of mail, throwing away flyers and obvious junk. Halfway through the pile, she came to an ivory envelope bearing July’s name, handwritten in blue ink. There was no return address, but the initials T.J.F. were written on the top-left corner of the envelope. It was postmarked in Rosedale. Mae laid the envelope aside to give to July. After quickly sorting through the rest of the mail, she carried everything inside.
The kitchen was empty. “July?” Mae called out. “Fred? Anybody home?”
Her brother-in-law walked around the corner and put his finger to his lips. “Ssshh. July’s asleep.”
Fred wore running shorts and an inside out white T-shirt. His white-blond hair stood on end. He yawned, rubbing the back of his neck.
“You can just set that mail over by the coffeemaker. Thanks for bringing it in. Are you here to check on Livy?”
“July texted me that Livy was being seen in the E.R. I talked to Mama early this morning. So it was a concussion?”
“Yes, it was. I was over at your parents’ for dinner and a state trooper called my cellphone to tell me that he was escorting July and the kids to Good Shepherd Hospital.”
“Is she going to be all right?”
Fred walked over and gave her a quick hug. “She’ll be fine, but we can only let her sleep for twenty minutes an hour for twenty four hours after she bumped her head. July and I are taking turns sleeping ourselves.” He closed his eyes for a second, and then went on. “Olivia’s in the den if you want to see her.” Fred motioned to the state-of-the-art coffeemaker. “I’m going to fix myself a cappuccino. Can I make you one?”
“No, thanks. Ben and I got coffees right after Tommy’s funeral, so I don’t need any more caffeine.”
Fred shook his head. “I forgot all about that funeral. Did your parents make it?”
“I didn’t see them. It was packed, though. Half the town was there.”
“They took Nate and Parker home with them last n
ight. I guess they couldn’t find a sitter today.” He busied himself at the coffee machine, filling the reservoir with bottled water and putting beans in the grinder. With his back to Mae, he said, “I know they were planning to attend.” Pausing to look over his shoulder, he added, “Was he really so great?”
“What do you mean?”
“Tom Ferris. Was he really this amazing guy, or is it just that people were fascinated by his disappearance and murder?”
Mae pulled one of the barstools out and sat down at the counter. Poor Fred. How do I answer that? She rubbed her temples.
“I was very young when he disappeared, you know. He was nice to me, though. He never treated me like an annoying kid-sister. I had a little bit of a crush on him back then. But who knows what kind of man he would have been? As it is, he’s the guy who left my sister when she ….”
Fred turned around. “She told me, Mae. She told me everything last night, about the pregnancy, the miscarriage—all of it. What I don’t understand is why she’s pined for him all these years.”
Mae started to protest, but Fred held up his hand. “She did. She kept the key to that damned house all this time. His class ring is in the drawer of her bedside table. Shouldn’t she be furious at him?”
She took a deep breath. “I was mainly confused when he disappeared, but I’ve been furious ever since I learned about the pregnancy. July’s an enigma to me in some ways. I have never quite understood what makes her tick.”
Fred nodded. “She’s a puzzle to me too, a lot of the time. But since this happened, I’m determined to spend the time to understand my wife.”
“Good for you, Fred. Maybe, after things settle down around here, you can ask July about her feelings for Tom Ferris. It might help you both.”
