Redeem

by Janice M. Whiteaker

  Don tipped the bottle back to his lips, but stopped, listening. Setting the bottle on the counter he walked to Jeanie’s door. Tara’s car was here, she had to be there, but the eerie silence wasn’t normal, especially when his baby sister was in town. Even if her mouth was shut, she was typing on her computer or listening to music. At the very least his mother’s television was always on.

  But not today, and that was starting to bother him.

  He twisted the handle on his mother’s door and pushed it open, the light weight of the hollow core panel making almost no noise at all, but still sounding like the whoosh of the ocean in the vacuum like quiet of the trailer. His mother’s chair was turned away from the television and now faced the bed. Tara sat in the askew recliner, covered in a satin edged blanket, her head dipped to one side.

  The crush of his boots against the well worn carpet as he walked into the silent room startled Tara awake. She leapt from the chair, throwing her blanket down, eyes glued to the unmoving form on the bed in front of her. “Mom?”

  Tara jumped back as he crossed to their mother’s bed, her hand pressed over her heaving chest. “Holy shit Donnie. I didn’t even hear you come in.”

  He leaned over the bed. “What’s going on? Why are you sleeping in here?”

  Tara stood beside him, tucking the electric blanket around their mother’s unusually pale form. “She was acting different last night and I was just worried.”

  Don rested his hand on his mother’s head. “Different how?”

  “Normally she’ll at least look at me, but she just stared across the room. I tried to get her to eat, but it was like she wouldn’t even try.” Tara sat on the edge of the bed and patted Jeanie’s leg through the pile of blankets covering her wasting body.

  “Why didn’t you call me?” Don tugged down the covers his sister just tucked.

  Tara’s eyes went wide. “I just thought she was having a rough night.” She stood up from the bed and helped him try to rouse their mother. “Oh, God. Something’s wrong isn’t it?”

  Don pressed two fingers against his mother’s wrist. Her pulse was slower and weaker than normal. Pulling his cell from his pants pocket, Don turned to Tara and said as gently as possible. “We need to call the squad.”

  She bit her lip, chin quivering as tears filled her eyes.

  “You stay here.” Don called 911 as he opened the door and stepped outside. After giving the dispatcher the address and his mother’s unsettling condition, he hung up and dialed Beth’s number, hesitating before sending the call.

  She’d already been through so much today and it wouldn’t be fair of him to dump this on her too. He deleted her number and called Ladonna instead.

  “Hello?” She sounded groggy.

  Don checked his watch. It was after two in the afternoon. “Did I wake you up?”

  “Baby just because you don’t get rowdy on the weekends doesn’t mean everyone else doesn’t.” She yawned into the phone, starting to talk before it was fully finished. “What’s goin’ on?”

  “The squads on the way to get my mom. Something’s wrong.”

  “Well you could have started with that.” The muddled sound of her words was gone and he heard her whisper a response to a low male voice in the background before she returned to their call. “Want me to meet you at the trailer or the hospital?”

  The sound of a far away siren echoed through the quiet trailer park. “I’m guessing we’ll beat you to the hospital. I can already hear the ambulance.”

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Ladonna hung up before he had the chance to thank her.

  The next fifteen minutes were a jumble of vital signs, medical history questions and careful maneuvering in the small confines of the trailer, all while his sister cried in the corner.

  “Do you want to ride with her?” The paramedic held the back door to the ambulance open.

  Don shook his head. “I’d just be in the way. I’ll follow you over.”

  The paramedic nodded and pulled the heavy door closed. A few minutes later they slowly pulled away, lights and sirens switched off. Don wrapped his arm around Tara’s shoulders, guiding her inside. “Do you want to go over with me?”

  She nodded, wiping at her nose with a crumpled and slightly shredded tissue. He snagged a fresh one from the box beside the couch and handed it to her. “Grab your stuff and we’ll go.”

  Tara tugged her bag off the floor and set it on the table. As she pulled out her laptop her face started to crumple. “I should have called last night. I should have known it was more than just a bad day.”

  Don pulled her into a hug, resting his chin on her blonde head. “You didn’t do anything wrong. If we called the squad every time we thought something was off they’d be here all the time and they’d hate our guts.”

  “But I should have seen this. I should have known it was different. How could I not notice she was having another stroke?” Her words were barely comprehensible as she pressed her face to his chest.

  He rubbed her back. “You don’t know that’s what’s going on. They were just guessing. It could be as simple as dehydration.”

  She wailed into his shirt. “That’s still my fault.”

  “You can’t make her eat.” He gave her a squeeze. “Everything will be fine. I promise.”

  “Kay.” She kept sniffling as she shoved her computer in her giant purse along with the box of tissues. She gave him a weak smile. “Just in case I can’t get it together.”

  He opened the door and followed her to his car. The hospital was only ten minutes away and when they arrived their mother was still in the emergency room for evaluation. Ladonna walked in the door five minutes after they did, looking fresh as a daisy carrying three cups of coffee. “How is she doing?”

  “They’re going to take her back for a CT scan but they’re pretty sure it was another stroke.” Don took the lidded foam cup she offered. He turned to Tara. “Why don’t you go call Jill? Let her know what’s going on.”

  He waited until his sister left the room, still lowering his voice just to be safe. “When they came to move her, she was limp. Almost couldn’t even hold her head up.”

  Ladonna sat in Tara’s vacated chair beside him and crossed her legs, resting her arms on her knee. “Do you think she’ll come through?”

  “I hope so.” He peeked around the corner to be sure his sister wasn’t on her way back down the hall. “Tara feels responsible and if she died it would crush her.”

  “Oh honey, this was an inevitability. I hate that it happened on her watch, but we all knew she was only going to get worse.” Ladonna sighed and leaned back in her chair. “You know you probably won’t be able to keep her home after this.”

  He nodded. “I know.”

  “You think she’s going to have to go to a nursing home?” Tara managed to slip in the room unnoticed.

  He shrugged, not wanting to upset her further.

  “I guess we’ll have to wait and see.”

  ****

  “Can I have some of that?” Liza stood on her tip toes peeking over the edge of the stove at the skillet set on top. “It smells like Nana’s pie.”

  Beth looked at the untouched apple pancake she made for breakfast and then completely forgot about. It was just basically bread and apples so nothing that would get too food poisony. “Sure honey.”

  The microwave seemed the best and fastest way to heat it up so she cut a slice of the thin pizza sized pancake and slid it on a plate before popping it in for a few seconds. “Hey Kate, do you want some apple pancake for dinner?”

  Kate wandered in from the living room where they’d spent most of the afternoon in a pile on the couch watching movies, the girls exhausted from swimming all weekend and her exhausted from…

  Ugh.

  “Did you make that?” Kate pulled the pan closer, taking a good look.

  “I did, but I got busy and forgot to eat it.” Beth cut off another chunk and dropped it on a plate as the microwave beeped. />
  “It looks really good.” Kate held up her hand. “Good job mommy.”

  Beth softly slapped her palm against Kate’s. “Thanks sister.”

  Liza pulled her plate out, leaving the door open. “Can we have some bacon too?”

  Actually bacon sounded pretty darn good. Beth rummaged around in the tall cabinet that served as a pantry. “Ah-ha.” Thank God for pre-cooked bacon. She pulled the plastic pack loose and ripped open the zipper top. “Bacon it is.”

  In under a minute she had a pile of crispy bacon and was setting the timer on Kate’s pancake piece. Her phone stared at her from the counter, dark and silent as she waited for the timer to go off. When both girls were sitting at the table, happily munching on bacon and pancake she finally caved.

  Beth dialed Don’s number and waited while the line rang. And rang. And rang.

  Voicemail.

  She listened to his voice recite a generic request to leave a message. Until the line beeped in her ear she still hadn’t decided if she would hang up or not. But not leaving a message would be worse than leaving a message.

  “Hey, I was just starting to get worried because you said you would be back soon. Call me when you can.” She hung up, not feeling any better. Now not only had he not come back and not called, he didn’t answer when she called him.

  Her stomach growled in spite of the horrible way her day was turning out. She cut herself a piece of cold pancake, grabbed a soda from the fridge, and walked to the table, taking a bite as she sat down beside Liza. Pulling her hand back, Beth looked at her intended breakfast in shock. “Holy crap this is good.”

  At least one thing went right today. Not that she wouldn’t have burned it to a crisp in a heartbeat to change the way everything else went down.

  She tried not to wonder where Levi was. Who he was with. If they were taking care of him and helping him cope with his mother’s death.

  Beth swallowed her bite and washed it down with a swig of the Diet Coke. At least she would see him tomorrow. His case worker promised Levi would stay in the same school district and that he was being placed with a good family until she could finish her classes. Four more weeks and a background check was all that was between Levi and what she hoped would be the life he deserved.

  It may not be all rainbows and unicorns. They might eat leftover breakfast for dinner on occasion. Sometimes she might lose her cool over the mess of toys taking over her house. Occasionally she might have to work on her computer while the kids entertain themselves, but no matter what there will always be food. There will always be toys and most importantly, she will always be there to help and support him.

  “Can I have some more?” Liza shoved her plate in front of Beth.

  “Do you like it?” Beth grabbed Liza’s plate and went to cut her another slice, setting it in the microwave to heat up. “I could probably make it with other fruit.”

  Finally succeeding at making something made her feel confident enough to at least consider working outside the confines of the recipe. “Maybe blueberries or strawberries.”

  “Can we do it now?” Kate was in the refrigerator pulling out a plastic clamshell container of blueberries. “I can help.”

  Beth shrugged. What the hell else did she have to do? Her phone sat silently on the counter reminding her that it was looking like she had the night free. And maybe many more.

  Maybe the reality of a woman with three kids was more than Don bargained for. Maybe last night wasn’t all he expected it to be.

  She opened the drawer and knocked her phone in, then slid it back closed. Beth pasted on a smile and turned to two of the three people she should really be focusing on instead of supposing herself to stage ten clinger status. “Let’s make some food.”

  After dinner pancake round two, which was better than the first, probably because it was fresh, Beth and the girls played a heated game of Chutes and Ladders, then a less aggressive round of Candyland.

  They were just finishing packing up all the pieces when Beth noticed the clock on the DVD player. “Okay girls, it’s time to hit the tub and then the bed.”

  “Can’t we just go to bed?” Liza slogged across the floor. “I’m so tired.”

  Beth pinched at Liza’s behind, making her jump and squeal. “Nope. You smell like a swimming pool. We’ll make it super quick.”

  Super quick actually meant a half hour by the time both girls were scrubbed clean, hair washed and dried and teeth brushed. Beth was exhausted before but by the time her girls were tucked into their beds she was practically comatose as she fell, face first into her pillow.

  A pillow that smelled like Don.

  “Balls.” She yanked it out from under her face and threw it on the floor. It felt stupid to be so upset over his sudden disappearance and now that there weren’t two sets of eyes glued to her every move to keep her from wallowing, crying into her pillow sounded like the next logical activity for a day as wondrous as today managed to be.

  Except her damn pillow was sitting on the floor smelling like one of the causes of her wallowing.

  Why did he act like last night was so serious? Showing up with flowers, worrying about doing something wrong, telling her she was special, what he’d always wanted. Maybe it was all just to get her into bed.

  Idiot. She would have slept with him with way less work.

  That might not be true, but still. What the hell?

  Beth huffed up out of bed. If she was going to pick apart every minute of last night she could at least find something constructive to do at the same time. All the dishes from the day sat on the counter, neglected and crusting over. Might as well wash them now before they started growing penicillin.

  The kitchen didn’t have a dishwasher so everything had to be done by hand and for the first time she was glad. Not that she was being nitpicky or ungrateful about the farmhouse. She loved the old home and loved the history of it.

  Most of it.

  When Thomas and Nancy first asked her about moving in here, Beth wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to look at that barn every day knowing what happened there. That seeing the big, red, wood sided building would only remind her what her husband tried to accomplish. And about his demise.

  But it never did. Maybe it was therapy or maybe it was just doing what she had to do. It was just a barn and what happened there was over and could never be changed. Life went on.

  Beth filled the sink with water so hot her hands turned pink and started to sting the second she dipped them under the sudsy bubbles. Her mind continued to work as the dish rack quickly filled with cleaned plates. She grabbed a towel and started drying, putting each one away as she wiped it off. Then she moved on to mixing bowls and cups, again filling the rack.

  The house was quiet with both girls falling sound asleep almost as soon as their heads hit the pillow. It was peaceful and calm and Beth was trying to embrace it, but that was easier said than done.

  Because today sucked nuts.

  She blew out a breath, letting her lips bounce in a loose raspberry as she dried the last of the dishes. As Beth opened the drawer to put the forks in their designated slot of the silverware divider her phone sat on top of the tray, mocking her.

  She gave it the finger before pulling it out and setting it on the counter so she could finish stashing the silverware. Forks in place, she closed the drawer and grabbed her phone. As much as she hated its guts right now, the damn thing had to wake her up in the morning.

  Flipping the light off in the kitchen Beth walked to the living room, waking her phone up from its peaceful, uninterrupted sleep. Four missed calls and four messages to go with them lined up down the center of her screen, all from a number she didn’t recognize. Turning off the living room light she swiped into her voicemail and headed to the front of the house guilt stabbing her already foul mood.

  What if it was Levi calling her? What if he needed her and couldn’t reach her because she was being a big baby because a man didn’t call her?

  She pressed pla
y on the first message and started up the stairs. A light knock on the front door made her miss a step, raking the front of her shin down the edge of the riser. “Shit.”

  Who in the hell was at her door this late at night?

  Then she heard Don’s voice in her ear.

  NINETEEN

  Beth opened the door and disconnected her phone. Might as well hear it straight from the horse’s mouth.

  Don stood on her front porch still wearing the clothes he left her house in this morning. His hair was rumpled and his eyes were bloodshot and dull.

  “Oh my God. Are you okay?” Beth spent the whole day being torn between thinking something terrible happened to him or that he maybe wasn’t as into her as he claimed, ultimately deciding a widow with three kids just didn’t hold the same appeal for him as it did for Mr. Brady.

  Now the sight of him had guilt not only stabbing but also gnawing at her already troubled insides. “What happened?”

  “Can I come in?” Don’s voice was scratchy and flat.

  She stepped aside, letting him walk past. “Of course. I’m sorry. I was just surprised to see you.”

  Don stopped a few feet in the door, his hands shoved deep into his jean pockets. “I tried to call you and when I couldn’t get ahold of you I got worried.”

  Of course he did. When Don didn’t hear from her, he was so worried he came to make sure everything was okay. When she didn’t hear from him, she decided he wasn’t the same person he’d proven himself to be time and time again.

  She was a jackass.

  And now she was also going to be a lying jackass. “I was in the kitchen with the girls and somehow my phone ended up shoved in a drawer. I’d just found it when you knocked.” She was a terrible human being but would have to deal with that later. “What’s going on?”

  “My mom had another stroke.”

  The sadness and exhaustion in his voice was like a knife to her heart. She wanted to crawl in a hole and hide. Or die. Or both.