Sins of the Father

by LS Sygnet

  When I pulled into the garage, the burger and fries were toast. Half the large strawberry shake remained in evidence.

  The garage door flew open while I was dumping the trash into one of the bins in the garage. “I’m still wearing the damned thing, as you well know. There was no restriction that prohibited a little shopping, was there?”

  Johnny stomped through the garage to the back of the Expedition and opened the large door. He had three of my bags clenched in one fist. I yanked the ropy handles away from him. “I can carry in my own bags, Johnny. I want this thing off my ankle, unless you want me to electrocute myself in the bathtub.”

  Chapter 20

  I woke at nine, to the rumblings of a greedy stomach. If I didn’t make up the lost weight plus two pounds by my next appointment, I’d be stunned. Growling commenced.

  No, food doesn’t magically appear in the refrigerator if you stand in front of an open door long enough. I had my strawberry itch satisfied earlier and then some. I dug through the fruit drawer. Strawberries. Of course. Some chunks of honeydew. Blueberries. I popped one of them in my mouth.

  “Hungry again?”

  I shrugged.

  “Want some blueberry pancakes?”

  “That’s breakfast food.”

  “It’s food, and if that’s what you feel like eating right now, I’ll make some.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  “Well, it sounds good to me, so I think I’ll make some anyway.”

  Soon the smell of buttery batter and sweet fruit filled the kitchen. My stomach enthused over the notion of breakfast food for dinner. Rather than let my heart perseverate on what a sweet gesture blueberry pancakes were, my brain focused on why he owed me this any anything else I could think of.

  Johnny held a plate piled high with pancakes in front of me. “Want these?”

  “Whatever.”

  He slid them across the breakfast bar at the kitchen island. “Milk? Juice?”

  “Do we have any hot chocolate?” I squeezed a saucerful of syrup over the sweet cakes and dug in while Johnny retrieved a saucepan and started making hot chocolate the old fashioned way. I wasn’t about to complain. I could always taste the difference between the real thing and powder mixed in hot water.

  He strained the steaming brew into to cups as I finished my dinner. Hungrier than I thought. “Aren’t you going to eat?” I asked.

  “I had a very late lunch.”

  “So blueberry pancakes didn’t really sound good to you at all.”

  “It sounded good for you. Marshmallows or plain?”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Too much sweet stuff today. I’ll pass.”

  Johnny sighed and turned toward the sink.

  “I didn’t mean I don’t want the hot chocolate, just no extra sugar.”

  He walked around the counter and put the cup beside me. “Your hair…” he said softly.

  I hadn’t exactly offered the opportunity for a scathing commentary when I got home from the wild shopping spree earlier. It seemed unwise for him to start in now that I had a cup of scalding liquid at hand. “Yeah, I know. It’s pretty butch.”

  Johnny’s hand skimmed lightly over the back of my head, so soft, I thought I imagined it until his fingertips tickled my neck. “It’s adorable.”

  I watched him retreat to the office. The door clicked shut. No slamming this time. No stomping. No sullen silence. I sighed. How long could the battle rage on before both of us were nothing more than empty husks of humanity?

  I rubbed my temples and grabbed my cup of cocoa. Mmm. Delicious. Just like the blueberry pancakes. I curled up in the corner of the sofa and grabbed the remote. Mindless drama played out on the television while I savored the hot brew. One hand drifted over my belly.

  “You know even if he hates me, he loves you very much. He’s not a bad guy really, even if Mommy gets so mad at him she could spit bloody nails. You don’t know what that means, and I hope you never do.”

  I curled up in the corner of the sofa and let the flickering lights on the screen drag my eyelids shut. It’s the little moments that make life good after all. Full belly. Warm chocolate. Comfortable nook.

  Perhaps it was the happy thoughts, tiny as they were, that dragged me into a fanciful world in sleep. In the bluest sky, a fluffy, grinning sun twisted in a merry dance above me. A giraffe munched leaves from a tree, pausing to smile at me from time to time. A hippo slogged through sparkling blue water, baring the whitest teeth in a playful smile. Next to the oasis, an elephant trumpeted a happy song before taking a snout full of water that rained on the happy hippo. A monkey swung down from the tree and perched on the back of the giraffe and began clapping, shrieking and jumping up and down.

  Beside me, two beautiful little boys with eyes as blue and clear as the sky applauded. They waved chubby arms and screeched with delight. Soon, they turned the joyful exuberance on me, giggling and wrapping arms around my neck for wet, sloppy kisses.

  My eyes shot open. “Oh!” Hand over babies. The fluttering sensation intensified. I laughed softly. “Liked that one, did you?”

  A knee registered in my peripheral vision. I turned my head slowly. Johnny was perched on the coffee table staring at me, bland, unreadable.

  “How long have you been staring at me?”

  “I was debating whether or not I should wake you up. Looked like you were having a good time. I can’t remember the last time I saw you smile like you really meant it.”

  I dragged myself up and rubbed my eyes. “What time is it?”

  “A little before midnight.”

  “Dammit,” I said.

  “That’s bad?”

  “I had things to do.” I glanced in the general direction of the main floor guest room. “If I’m gonna be up all night, I guess it doesn’t matter what time I –”

  “You should go to bed,” Johnny said. “You’re obviously more exhausted than you realized.”

  I could dig my feet in and prolong his departure with another argument, or I could pretend to agree and send him on his way, free to do as I pleased all night. I chose the latter option. “You’re probably right. I guess I should turn in.”

  “Helen…”

  I spared a brief glance. No words asked the question anyway. What?

  “I wish we could talk. I think there are things that we both need to say without becoming angry, and maybe now… you don’t seem quite so angry with me tonight.”

  I knew what he meant, what he was asking for. My heart leapt at the chance. My brain wasn’t quite so forgiving. Unfortunately, it’s still in the driver’s seat, and no matter how hard the tender part of me tries to protest, the brain always seems to come out of the battle victorious.

  My head wagged lightly. “Not ready, Johnny.” I retreated to the safety and solitude offered behind a closed bedroom door and waited for his footsteps to fade. I waited another hour, just to be sure that he had taken up residence in his corner of the ring before I emerged from the bedroom.

  The house was completely dark save for the nightlight under the microwave oven in the kitchen. I inched through the darkness to the opposite side of the house. Funny, but I didn’t know my way in the dark here nearly as well as I did the brownstone in Georgetown. The head couldn’t wrap itself around the notion that I’d live here for ten years either.

  I flipped on the light in the guest room and surveyed the contents. Queen sized bed, two night stands, lamps, window treatments, a moderately sized dresser. If I took the drawers out, I could drag it to the garage without help. I stripped the linens from the bed and deposited them next door in the laundry room. The mattress was heavier than it looked. Even though the garage door was only a few steps away from the guest room, I paused several times en route to listen. No sound drifted from upstairs.

  The more I worked methodically through the task of emptying furniture from the room, the more energized I felt. If this was what nesting felt like, we were in for some serious reorganization when the babies were due.

&n
bsp; At last, the room was empty. It looked much larger without the big bed and all the accessories taking up space. I planned where every stick of new furniture would rest. Northwest corner would hold the rocker-glider. The cribs would sit against the southwest corner, L shape configuration. Changing tables along the south wall. That left the entire east wall empty.

  The dream drifted back to my mind. I knew exactly what I’d do with that wall too. It was merely a matter of finding what I wanted.

  I stopped in the kitchen for a quick detour to the fridge and grabbed my favorite beverage, another strawberry shake. Next began the search. I booted up my desktop iMac in the office and waited for the software to load.

  After an hour, I rubbed the frustration and grit from my eyes. Surely I wasn’t the only mother who had the idea of decorating a nursery according to the dream I had.

  Babies fluttered. I rested a reassuring hand over their temporary home. “Don’t worry, guys. I liked the idea too. We’ll figure it out.”

  It suddenly occurred to me that rather than spending what was left of the pre-dawn hours searching for something not easily found, it might be a better plan to sketch the ideas onto paper and find someone locally who could simply make the decor for me. The pages of a white legal tablet quickly filled with images from the dream.

  “What we need is grass, yes?” Back to the browser. That was easy to find. I discovered a company that sold a rug that was vibrant green, claimed to be the softest dig-your-toes-in-and-enjoy weave known to man and was the right size for my budding nursery. I ordered one.

  Noise from the kitchen and the aroma of coffee drew my attention to the window behind the computer screen. Pink streaks stretched sunburned fingers across the western sky.

  Shit. Johnny was awake.

  I listened to the sound of him fumbling around the kitchen, no doubt making his extra large coffee to go. The coffee maker sputtered out the last drops of the noxious strong brew he notoriously made.

  Debate raged. Did I dare try to quietly close the office door and hope he didn’t notice? Maybe I should sit quietly and hope he assumed I was still sleeping, or at the very least, had no interest in seeing him before he left for OSI.

  A ring pierced the air. I jumped in my chair and cursed internally. Please don’t let him hear me in here! The last thing I wanted was another heartfelt plea for the talk.

  “Orion.”

  I held my breath.

  “Hey, Crevan. I’m good. Do we have an ETA yet?”

  An estimated time of arrival for what exactly? I gnawed my lower lip and crept quietly to the door for a better eavesdropping post.

  “I see. No, I’m on my way out the door in a few. Just a couple of things I need to finish up here.”

  Hopefully not in the office. I glanced over my shoulder. No stack of files. No briefcase. No government issue laptop computer. I sagged against the door frame.

  “She’s all right, as far as I can tell.”

  Oh, so when I elicit a little pity, I look like a fool, but it’s all right for him to mope around to his buddies about the sad state of his marriage. Never mind it became a sad state because of him.

  “No, we’re gonna press forward on that no matter what Joe does today. I figure we should know our collective fate by early afternoon. He’s got the press conference scheduled for three.”

  Whoa. What had I missed? Speaking of moping around. I couldn’t clearly recall the last time I read the paper or watched the news. I certainly wasn’t interested in hearing anything Johnny had to say about his job or anything else.

  “Don’t worry about it. I told you guys, you’ve got work no matter what. Darkwater Bay is going to be in serious need of people like you, Devlin too, if Joe does what I think he’s gonna do today. We’ll hang out a new shingle at the security company. Who knows? Maybe it’ll be more liberating doing this job from the private sector.”

  What job? Private investigations? Easier. I stifled the snort in the back of my throat. Dream on, Johnny. Without the authority of the justice system, he couldn’t do nearly as much as he could as a law enforcement officer. The courts don’t typically grant search warrants to PI’s.

  The refrigerator door slammed. Must’ve been time for half-and-half to cut the sludge in his cup to something less than the consistency of runny pudding.

  “Nope, on my way out the door right now. I think she’s sleeping in, and I’m not going to disturb her. It’s been rough, you know?”

  Oh please! What an actor! Like he cared what was rough on me and what wasn’t. If he did, he’d stop being such a domineering brute, maybe take back that evil thing he said about me being nothing but his personal property. His rules. Pissed me off just thinking about it.

  “I should be there before eight. Talk to you then.”

  I listened to his footsteps fade for too long and in the wrong direction. My mind counted silently. The distance was equal to that of my bedroom to the kitchen. No! He’s going to barge in there to attach my little monitor to my ankle! Panic squeezed my ribs hard enough to inflict physical pain.

  Instead of a shout of anger, the footsteps returned. I dashed through the kitchen toward the living room. Whoosh. Garage door opened. I had mere seconds before he saw what I’d been doing all night. I flew down the gallery hall toward my bedroom. Door open, two more steps, shut the door.

  “Helen!”

  The jig was up.

  I spun on my heel and retraced my steps, pretending to have just ventured out of my sanctuary. Up all night boiled down to bleary eyed.

  The hulk appeared, glowering, snorting smoke from his nostrils, ready to paw the ground and charge me. “What did you do?”

  Me and my brilliant ideas. Why hadn’t I waited until this morning and had some charity come pick up the furniture for me? They’d have hauled it right out of the bedroom.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Well I know I’m not hallucinating. There’s a garage full of furniture, and if my eyes don’t deceive me, it came out of the guest room.”

  Garage full. Bah. Drama queen.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll have one of the local charities come haul it away today if possible.”

  “That’s not what I meant, and you damn well know it!”

  I rolled my eyes. “It’s no big deal really, just a few pieces of –”

  “You should not be lifting mattresses and dressers and bed frames in your condition! Are you trying to hurt yourself?” The frown intensified to a scowl. “Were you up all night?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You just saw me come out of my room –”

  “You’re wearing the same clothes you had on when you came out of the cave last night, Helen. I realize you think I’m stupid, but I am an astute investigator.”

  “I can sleep all day.”

  “Is that the plan?”

  “No.”

  “Are you planning to go back out shopping today? More furniture from Behan’s perhaps?”

  Bastard. “No wonder you don’t get your work done at the office,” I fumed. “Since you clearly spent all day yesterday glued to whatever it is you use to track my every move!”

  “Answer the question, Helen. Are you leaving the house today?”

  I nodded curtly.

  “Then I guess you’ll need the ankle monitor after all.” He stalked down the gallery hallway toward me, gripped my arm and steered me toward the chaise in my bedroom. “Sit. Now.”

  He retrieved the wretched device and quickly locked it around my ankle. Shackled again. I seethed in silence that screamed every nasty epithet I could imagine.

  “Levine is going to be in town today. He wanted to know if you’d like to have dinner.”

  I bit my lower lip.

  “I’ll tell him you’ll be here with dinner ready at six. I trust that won’t interfere with your plans for the day.”

  “I look forward to seeing him.”

  “Good. I won’t be home until late. Don’t expect me for dinner.”
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  Johnny rose, turned on his heel and left. This time, the garage door slammed shut.

  Chapter 21

  I don’t think I’ve known bone deep gratitude so completely in my life. Being a realist, I know that other than my relationship with my father, I’ve pretty much faced life alone. Me against the world. Attack.

  Today, I felt it for my children more than I imagined possible. Doing something for them completely erased my disgust with my husband. I tucked my sketches into my purse and headed out of the house shortly after Johnny’s less than graceful exit and headed to Downey.

  Along a quaint, cobblestone street was the store I found on the Internet during the wee hours. Annell’s Sewn Bit o’ Heaven. Not only did Annell supply materials for crafty do-it-yourself types, she also did commissioned work for people. Since I do not fall into the former category, Annell was about to become my godsend.

  She carefully examined my sketches, held up one finger as if testing for wind direction and disappeared into the back room. I wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or not. At least until she reappeared five minutes later with her arms full of patterns and photo albums.

  She’d done bits and pieces of what I wanted for various projects over the years and wanted my stamp of approval I thought. Not quite accurate. She started discussing modifications to the past projects and the patterns she brought out so that the final product would be as close to an exact replica of my dream as possible.

  We spent the rest of the morning picking out fabrics. She agreed that my little animals needed to be durable, since I wanted them large enough that when tacked to the walls, they would be low enough for the boys to reach at a young age. She suggested a variety of textures for a more interesting experience for their inquisitive fingers.

  I couldn’t have been more thrilled. She promised the job would be finished in two weeks.

  “If you need more time, Annell, it’s fine with me. I’m not due until fall.”

  “Oh, honey,” she drawled in native Kentuckian, “you’re gonna want this room ready long before these little angels come into the world. Trust me. I decorated five nurseries in my house, and you’re gonna be adding finishing touches from now until the stars fall.”