The Line That Binds

by Carolyn LaRoche

  "Where did you go looking?"

  "Dive bar on the other side of town. Apparently, they serve good burgers."

  "You stopped to eat there?" Marietta asked, confused.

  Ricky chuckled. "No. But our guy did. Hey, I've gotta run. I'll see you in the morning."

  "Okay. I love you."

  "I know," he said, teasing her. Ever since he'd seen Princess Leia tell Han Solo she loved him and he said I know, Ricky threw it out there occasionally thinking he was as romantic as his favorite movie character.

  The next time she woke up, Ricky was sliding into the bed beside her.

  "Mmmm, what time is it?"

  "Seven thirty." He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her in close, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. "You drink that whole bottle yourself?"

  "It wasn’t the whole bottle."

  Ricky chuckled. "Woman, there isn't even enough in there for Father Thompson to do Mass on Sunday."

  She shrugged and snuggled in close to Ricky. "He just has to ask Jesus to turn the holy water in to wine and we will be good to go."

  "If your mama had heard that, she'd be dragging you off to confession right now."

  "Good thing she still lives in New York. You gonna let me finish sleeping off that water now or do you want to make me breakfast?"

  This time Ricky outright laughed. "Water? I never heard of the process going in reverse. Go to sleep. We have nowhere to be this morning."

  "Okay. Good night." She closed her eyes and waited for sleep to return but it didn't. All she got instead was a throbbing headache, right between her eyes. A reminder of why she'd consumed all that wine in the first place. She should have told him when he got in bed. Ricky's breathing had slowed to a nice, even pace and his light snores every so often told her he was asleep. Too late to give him the news. She gently lifted his arm and slid out of the bed, setting his arm back on a pillow so he wouldn't notice her absence. Quiet as a mouse, she grabbed some clothes and headed to the hall bath to take a shower, hoping the hot water would ease the tension in her body and take the headache away.

  With Thanksgiving less than two weeks away, she needed to get to the store and buy a turkey so it would defrost in time. She wanted to invite Eleanor and her boys to dinner so she used that as an excuse to call her friend. And if the whole near miss of the night before slips out then so be it. Eleanor deserved to know what was going on to avenge her husband's death.

  Showering and dressing quickly, she headed to the kitchen for some aspirin and a gallon of water. Wine never affected her so strongly. It had to be a combination of the alcohol and all the events of the last week.

  As she reached for her phone, it rang and Vivian's name flashed across the screen.

  "Hey, Viv."

  "How're you feeling this morning?"

  "Fine, why?" She knew exactly why Vivian was asking but had no desire to rehash her infertile ovaries right then.

  "Just wondering." Vivian was a good friend for letting it drop.

  Marietta grabbed a bottle of aspirin from the cabinet by the sink and filled a glass with water. "I was about to call Eleanor. Nothing happened last night. He was gone when they got to the dive bar he was supposed to be at."

  "Damn it! I hoped you'd just slipped into a drunken coma and not called."

  "Hold on a sec." Marietta tossed the aspirin in her mouth and drank the entire glass of water. "Okay, I'm back. Had to take some aspirin."

  "You hungover from wine?" Vivian sounded surprised. "I thought wine flowed in your veins."

  Marietta laughed. "I know, right? I think it’s a combination of everything going on. The stress around here is ridiculous. Ricky is constantly on edge. If he's even home. He's become completely obsessed with finding that guy. How's Antonio?"

  Vivian laughed and she heard someone yelling in the background. "He's hungover. And now he's yelling at me for basically existing too loud for his pounding head."

  "Ricky didn't tell me much. What got him all wound up last night?"

  "Some jerks at Tony's game said some things about Gary and the shooting that they shouldn't have. Antonio called them on it and Tony saw. They got into it and Antonio took off."

  "Tony okay?"

  "Yeah. Just mad at his dad. But he's a teenager, so that's nothing new."

  "You tell Antonio he owes me a margarita. Ricky and I were headed out to dinner when you texted."

  Vivian exhaled. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wreck date night. I just didn't know who else to ask for help. I used to ask Gary to go round him up—"

  "Yeah. It’s okay. I don't mind. We gotta have each other's back."

  "Well, girl, you know I always got yours."

  "I'm gonna give Eleanor a call now and then head to the supermarket. Thanksgiving is like ten days from now and with the funeral stuff coming up in a couple of days, I just want it done."

  "I know," Vivian replied. "I've got to shop too. Antonio's sister and her family are going to be here. Should be a real joy given the mental state my husband has been in."

  "He and Danielle still on the outs?"

  Vivian laughed. "Aren't they always over something or other? The day they get along for a full twenty four hours I expect to see a pig fly past my kitchen window."

  Marietta chuckled. Antonio and his sister had a constant cycle of love-hate. "I'm going to invite Eleanor and her boys over here. I don't want them to be alone."

  "That's a good idea, Mari. I hope she accepts the invitation."

  "Me too. I'll talk to you later, okay?"

  "Yep. Stay safe out there, I hear the holiday crowds are amping up along with the stupidity levels."

  Marietta laughed. "You too. Talk to you later."

  She ended the call and pushed the speed dial for Eleanor.

  "Hello?" her friend answered softly.

  "Hi, El. It's M—"

  "Mari, hi." Eleanor sounded absolutely exhausted.

  "Are you okay, sweetie?" Marietta sat down on the couch and leaned back against the cushion.

  "I'm still in bed. Couldn’t really sleep last night. It's harder to get it out of my mind when I'm alone in my room."

  "Do you need anything? I'm heading to the store in a few minutes."

  Eleanor kind of laughed. At least it sounded like an attempt. "I've got enough food here to feed everyone on the USS Abraham Lincoln."

  Marietta reached or the notepad and pen she kept in the drawer of the coffee table. "Meals still coming?"

  "Yes. Several each day. Apparently, one must get fat when they are in mourning."

  "People don't know what to do so they cook. Food is therapy for everyone involved." Marietta jotted down a few items she didn't want to forget at the store.

  "I suppose. How's Antonio doing? I heard he's on admin leave."

  She set the notebook on the table and leaned back in to the cushions again. "Ricky had to go pull him out of O'Malley's last night. They are doing the mandatory IA investigation after a shooting."

  "But he never fired his gun."

  "I know," Marietta said. "That's what I don't understand either. It's like they are looking for something to pin on him."

  "I doubt it's like that."

  The buzzer on the dryer sounded so she got up and walked to the laundry room. "Well, Antonio is taking it pretty hard. He got into a fight at Tony's basketball game and it was a total hot mess."

  "I hate that he is blaming himself. Gary'd kick his ass for it."

  Marietta pulled open the dry and put her phone on speaker, setting it on the dryer so she could fold the towels inside. "Ricky almost had to last night."

  They both laughed at that.

  "I'd feel better if they'd just get the guy that killed my husband. Having him running around out there makes me nervous."

  "I know. They almost had him last night. Ricky said they were barely ten minutes behind him. They'll catch up to him soon. They are hungry for his blood." Marietta set a folded towel on the dryer and pulled out another one to fold.

&nb
sp; "I kinda am too," Eleanor replied. "Is that bad?"

  Leaning against the dryer on her elbows, Marietta spoke softly in to her phone. "Oh Eleanor, no, it's not bad. He took something from you."

  "He took half my heart. I feel like it will never be whole again." Eleanor let out a long, shaky sigh.

  The sadness and melancholy tone of her voice said enough. Time for a subject change. "I was wondering if you and the boys wanted to join us for Thanksgiving dinner?"

  "Oh, Mari, I am not really in the mood to celebrate anything. Besides, my mom may be here still and I wouldn't wish that on anyone."

  Marietta laughed. Eleanor's mother could be a challenge under the best of circumstances. "Bring her along. It will keep things interesting."

  "Can I think about it?" Eleanor asked.

  She returned to folding the rest of the towels. "Sure. As long as the answer is yes."

  That actually made Eleanor chuckle a little. "I'm sure the boys would like it so I guess we could drop in for a little bit."

  "Oh, I'm so glad! I'm heading to the store now but I'll check in with you later and if you think of anything you need, just shoot me a text, and I'll deliver it to your doorstep."

  "Thank you, Mari. You're a good friend."

  They said their goodbyes and Marietta headed to the store. Traffic was ridiculous and it took her twice as long to get there as it should have.

  She made a quick trip through the store grabbing all the things she needed and then got in line behind an older gentleman who took his time unloading his cart on to the conveyer. The rack of magazines and newspapers greeted her with various headlines about Thanksgiving stuffing recipes and tried and true Christmas cookies. Someone had stuffed a copy of the local paper in front of her favorite magazine so she pulled it out to give her a better view of the newest royal couple on the magazine cover. The front page of the paper had a head shot of Gary and a head shot of the suspect that shot him next to each other on the front page. The headline read Mental Health Care in the US Needs Help!

  A quick scan of the article reviewed the events of the shooting in brief and then went on to explain, in detail, all the things the writer of the article felt should have been done to help the suspect. Not a word was said expressing sorrow over the loss of Gary.

  She shook her head. "I don't understand what's wrong with the world today."

  The older man looked over at her. "That's why I put that paper there. I couldn't in good conscience pay for that kind of rubbish. I'm not saying mental health care isn't an issue. It's a huge problem. But it's not the issue in this instance. Can you imagine blaming the victim for his own death?"

  "Thank you so much for saying that. It's wrong and I don't even know who I could complain to."

  "You can start by burning that paper."

  Marietta laughed. "I'd love to but I think the store would take issue with a fire in the checkout line."

  The old man laughed as well. "I got nothing to lose though. Let me do it."

  "Everything okay over here?" A man wearing a manager's name tag approached them.

  "Fine. Just fine." The man answered. "We were just discussing the stupidity of this article." He motioned to the paper.

  "I'd be happy to return the paper to its location for you, if you like." The young manager held out his hand and the older man gave it to him.

  "As long as its location is in a trash bin," Marietta said as the manager walked away mumbling something about how sensitive everyone was lately.

  The man in front of her paid for his groceries and then looked back at her. "Hold tight to your beliefs and don't ever let anyone tell you how to think, young lady. I can see you got a good head on your shoulders." He nodded toward her turkey. "Happy Thanksgiving to ya."

  Marietta finished paying for her things and headed home, the old man on her mind. As she passed the police station she caught sight of Gary's patrol car parked in front, wrapped in black. A small crowd of people stood on the sidewalk near the vehicle and a large memorial of flowers and other items had grown beside it. At least part of the city realized the sacrifice he'd made that night. No one had died but Gary and that should mean something.

  Chapter Eight

  Eleanor

  A car pulled in to the driveway. Mason's Funeral Home had sent a driver to take them to the calling hours the day before, but today a limousine sat outside.

  "Come on, boys! It's time," she called up the stairs.

  Both of her sons appeared at the landing at the same time. They wore dark suits and shoes buffed to a perfect shine, the way Gary had taught them. A memory of him sitting them down and teaching them to shine their shoes while he buffed his boots brought a heavy mix of joy and sadness. The twins had been maybe five at the time. He told them that the measure of man came from two sources: the value of his word and the shine on his shoes. That same day he also showed them how to give a proper handshake.

  "You look really nice, Mom," Jackson said as he reached the bottom of the steps. Complimenting a woman—another trademark thing Gary had taught them

  "Thank you, sweetheart. You and your brother are absolutely dashing. Your father would be proud."

  "Dashing? Who even says that anymore?" Jamison asked.

  Eleanor shrugged. "I guess I do."

  Jameson noticed the limo in the drive. "Do we really have to go in that?"

  "Yes. We do."

  Jameson scowled. "Dad would hate it."

  "Actually, he loved limousines. But he'd definitely think it was too flashy for him. I'm just not up to driving today and the processional could be long."

  Jackson looked at his watch. The watch Gary had given to him for his birthday the year before. "We need to get out of here if we want to be on time."

  Grabbing the door knob, Jackson pulled open the front door and motioned to his brother and mother to go ahead of him.

  "Please make sure the door is locked," Eleanor said as she stepped outside, holding Jameson's arm.

  "I know, Mom." Jackson closed the door. He stopped to double check the knob, just like Gary had taught them. She'd never noticed before how many things Gary'd passed on to the boys.

  Together they walked the slick walkway to the car. It had rained the day before and then the temperatures had dropped below freezing so everything was icy. The driver stood by the car, holding the door open when they approached.

  "Hello, Mrs. Hart. Boys. I'm Joseph, your driver for today. I am very sorry for your loss."

  Eleanor accepted his outstretched hand and assistance into the car. "Thank you, Joseph. It's been very difficult. We appreciate you being here for us."

  Once they were all settled in to the car, Joseph drove then to the same church she and Gary had been married in. Instead of walking the aisle in a white dress, watching Gary wipe at the tears he'd denied until his dying day, she'd be the one crying, dressed in black this time. It took less than ten minutes to get there but it felt like an hour. It seemed like only yesterday they were making promises of forever and sealing their love with a kiss. Their relationship had gone full circle. She just wasn't ready to say goodbye to the love of her life nor did she relish the idea of sharing that goodbye with hundreds of other people.

  As Joseph turned down the street toward the church, Eleanor sucked in a breath. A local news channel's van was parked about a block from the church. A camera man wandered around with one of the anchors interviewing people. She prayed they wouldn't try to talk to her.

  The sidewalks on both sides of the road were filled with people. She spotted a group of older men wearing U.S. Veteran hats, standing in salute as they drove by. An intersection contained rows of police motorcycles from several cities, their officers standing beside them holding their helmets under their arms. At the entrance to the parking lot, two fire trucks were parked, opposite each other with their ladders extended and a huge American flag hung between them. Members of their church stood at the doors holding stacks of programs. A little girl with a long, blond pony-tail wore a blue and b
lack ribbon in her hair that bounced as she walked along holding hands with an adult. A group of children from the grade school across the street held signs that read Rest in Peace Officer Hart, We Love You and We Love Our Police Officers. They all wore blue ribbons pinned to their jackets. Tears ran down her cheeks as she saw people, young and old, gathered to celebrate and mourn a man they'd never met.

  Joseph pulled in to the lot and drove around to the back of the church. Marietta and Ricky stood on the sidewalk, waiting, as the limo came to a stop.

  Taking a deep breath and then exhaling long and slow, she took each of her boys' hands in hers. "No matter how hard this is today, and no matter what anyone says, always know that your father loved you and was extremely proud of both you."

  Jameson patted her hand. "We know, Mom."

  "Yeah, we do," Jackson added.

  She pulled them in close for a quick hug. "I love you, both. I don't know how, but we are going to get through this day."

  The door opened and Joseph offered her his hand. "May I assist you, Mrs. Hart?"

  "Yes, thank you." She allowed him to help her from the vehicle then waited as Jackson and Jameson joined her on the sidewalk.

  "Eleanor!" Marietta scooped her up in a tight hug.

  "Hi, Mari."

  "Did you see the press out front?" Marietta asked.

  Eleanor nodded. "Yeah. I hope they stay outside too."

  "Ricky's got some of the cops watching the doors during the service to keep them out."

  "Hello, boys," Ricky said to the twins, shaking hands with each of them. "Your father was a great man. I'll miss him as both my friend and my brother in blue."

  "Thank you, sir," Jackson replied. Jameson nodded.

  "Eleanor." Father Thompson approached them. "I'm so sorry for the crowds, dear. Gary's death is such a huge loss to the entire community."

  "Thank you, Father." She dabbed the corner of her eye with a tissue she'd been holding on to. "We knew there'd be a lot of people, just not this many."

  "Would you like a few moments alone inside before we begin?"