by Young, D. M.
They’d managed to keep it together for nearly three years, but neither Ray nor Alicia was happy. They fought daily. Ray began spending most of his weekends hanging out at the bar just over the county line. Eventually, he started dropping by there during the week after work, too. He’d drink until he could barely stand. Then he’d get behind the wheel and head home. The police hauled him in for drunk driving a few times, but, as always, Ray did what Ray wanted to do. When they took his license, he just drove without one.
Eventually, Alicia had reached her breaking point. The bills were piling up. What money Ray didn’t drink up, he spent on fines and court costs. She knew he would lose his job if he kept going like that, and she was afraid he would kill someone on the road some night. She was right about the job and almost right about the rest of it.
A month after they divorced, Ray lost his job. A month later, he crossed the center line on his way home from the bar and hit another car head on. Fortunately, no one was killed, but a woman was severely injured. Ray ended up behind bars for a while after that. In the years since their divorce, Alicia had managed to put Ray’s bullshit behind her, and she didn’t much care to talk about him, especially not with a bunch of nosey customers.
After eight solid hours of the madness and prying, she was thrilled to get away from it for a while. She decided to stop for sandwiches on her way home. She certainly didn’t feel like cooking. She parked outside of the local sandwich shop and stepped inside. A line of people stood waiting to place their orders and chatted excitedly about the day’s events, comparing stories they’d heard.
Alicia tried to be as inconspicuous as possible. The last thing she wanted was to get stuck here being peppered with questions about the situation, but, alas, Elaine Mackey, spotted her and started making her way across the room. Alicia sighed. There was probably a nosier woman somewhere in the world, but Alicia hadn’t met her. She braced herself for the inevitable onslaught of questions and resigned herself to the idea that she wouldn’t be getting home any time soon.
* * *
Dr. Adam Keeling sang along to the radio as he pulled into the hospital parking lot. It was a beautiful day. Hot, but beautiful. He loved living up here in the mountains. It was so much more peaceful than the city. The people were friendly, and the area was gorgeous. As the song ended, his phone rang. He pulled the car into a parking spot and picked the phone up. It was his mother calling. Lovely.
“Hi, Mom,” he said as he answered the call.
“Adam, did you get my other calls?” she asked.
“Yeah, I was asleep,” Adam said, knowing full well that his mother was aware of that fact when she chose to call ten times this morning.
“All day?” she asked.
He looked at the clock. He had a few minutes before his shift started, but he didn’t like walking in at the last minute. “Um, yep, working the night shift, Mom. Got to sleep sometime, right?”
“Lawyers don’t have to work night shifts,” his mother said.
Adam bit his tongue. The last thing he wanted right now was to get into an argument over his career choice. He was in a good mood, and he’d like to remain that way.
“So, what were you calling about?” he asked pleasantly.
His mother huffed, obviously annoyed that he hadn’t taken the bait. “I was trying to get an answer about Labor Day. Are you coming to the cookout?”
Adam frowned. They’d been through this already. “I’m really not sure yet. I’ll have to let you know closer to time. That’s a big tourist weekend, and – ”
“Adam, everyone is going to be there. Can’t you just ask for the time off?” she said, a nagging tone creeping into her voice.
He could, and he might even get it. The problem was, he had no desire to spend Labor Day weekend with his parents’ friends and colleagues. The cookout itself would be torture. Ten minutes in, his mother would be telling everyone how he ran off and abandoned them. His father would start bragging about what a wonderful job his brother was doing and what a shame it was that he couldn’t work with both of his sons. When the guests weren’t around, it would be even worse. By contrast, drunk tourists and boating accidents sounded positively glorious.
“Yeah, Mom, I just don’t know, yet. That’s a busy weekend around here with the lake right down the road. Look, my shift starts in a few minutes. I’ve got to go,” he said.
“Oh, wait! There’s something else,” she said.
Adam closed his eyes, fighting the irritation that was rising. “What’s that?”
Did you hear that Kristin Avery is getting married?” she asked innocently.
Adam felt his stomach sink. No, as a matter of fact, he hadn’t heard about that. He tried to collect himself. It was bound to happen. They’d broken their own engagement off over two years ago. He knew she was bound to move on eventually, but that didn’t make things any easier. Maybe if he’d moved on, too, it would be different. Instead, he’d focused on his work. He’d barely looked at anyone since Kristin. His mother was well aware of that fact.
Adam took a deep breath and tried to keep his tone light. “No, I hadn’t. I’m happy for her. If you see her, give her my congratulations.”
His mother sighed on the other end of the phone. “It’s a shame you two couldn’t make it work. She was always such a sweet girl. She would have made a wonderful – ”
Adam felt himself losing his temper. “Hey, Mom, I’ve really got to go. I’ll call you later this week. Love you,” he said and hung up the phone before she could say anything else.
He looked at the clock again, hoping he had a few minutes to himself before he had to go in, but it was almost time for his shift. His good mood was gone, but he put on a smile anyway. No need to make everyone else miserable. As he walked in, he thanked his lucky stars that he had gotten away from that family. It had taken him thirty-two years, but he’d finally escaped. No way was he going back, not even for Labor Day.
CHAPTER 9
Margaret unlocked the cabin and sat Plato inside the door. He trotted happily off to investigate and make sure nothing had changed since his last visit. The cabin was nothing fancy, but it was nice and quiet and sat on about forty acres just above the lake. Her husband had called it a hunting cabin and claimed he bought it for the land, but mostly it had just been used as a place for him and his no good friends to run off and stay drunk for days at a time.
After his death, she considered selling the place. It was only twenty minutes from her house, so she couldn’t exactly consider it a vacation cabin. She didn’t hunt or fish so the land and the proximity to the lake meant nothing to her. In truth, there was no logical reason for her not to sell it. Still, she held onto the cabin, mostly just because she knew how much it would annoy him to know she was enjoying his place.
Since then, Margaret had redecorated the whole thing according to her own taste. She’d hung lacey curtains and repainted the walls a bright, sunny yellow. She’d hired someone to come out and update the electrical and plumbing. The old sofa had been replaced, and she’d bought herself a nice, comfortable recliner. The dusty mounted deer heads had been tossed out and replaced by some lovely prints of flowery meadows.
Margaret dropped the small bag of food on the kitchen counter. It wasn’t much, just a few things she’d grabbed to get her through the night. She put the yogurt and milk in the refrigerator. Then she carried her bag to the bedroom and set it down on the bed. In this moment, she was very glad that she had decided to keep the cabin. The police were still at her house when she left town. She had been allowed to pack a few things, but she wasn’t allowed to stay. They told her that they would call when they were ready to turn it back over to her, but that she shouldn’t expect that call today.
So, Margaret had headed up to the cabin. Since the shooting, she felt numb and sad. She did not feel guilty. The police had told her about the situation at the Roberts’ house and the attack on Amber Gardner. She was now even more convinced that she had acted in self-defense, but it
was still an awful situation.
This was the perfect place for her right now. There was no television to distract her, and the cell phone coverage was non-existent. She could sit and think or read. Plato would keep her company. Besides, her insurance company had given her a list of things she needed to take care of in the next few days. Someone would need to clean the house up, and the front window would have to be replaced. When she felt like it, she could use the land line to make the necessary calls.
She thought about the snacks in the kitchen. She should probably eat something, but she wasn’t really hungry. There was a big truck stop down by the highway near the resorts that surrounded the lake. They carried a decent supply of groceries for the truckers and the tourists. She thought she might run down in the morning and pick up a few things. Right now, though, all she wanted to do was lie down and take a little nap. Plato joined her on the bed and crawled under the covers. Together, they drifted off to sleep.
* * *
Gracie sat on edge of the hospital bed waiting for someone to tell her what was going on. She’d had a chance to shower and change clothes. The nurses had brought her food and some coloring books to keep her busy, but nobody had told her anything about her brother. That probably meant that they either hadn’t found him yet, or he was dead. She wondered where they would send her when she left the hospital. Probably to her grandma’s house. She wondered if Grandma would let her bring Sammy. He was all the family she had left. She hoped she could keep him.
Mr. and Mrs. Dennis had stayed with her all day so she wouldn’t have to be alone. She was thankful for that, but she was sick of being in the hospital. It wasn’t boredom. She just needed to be by herself in a private place and think. She missed her parents and Josh and Emma. She wanted to cry, but she couldn’t stand the idea of all the people trying to comfort her.
Finally, a social worker came in to speak to her. Yes, her family was dead. All of them. She explained that Gracie would be spending the night at the hospital just to make sure she was alright. Tomorrow, they would arrange for her Grandmother to take custody. After the social worker left, Gracie sat for a while, thinking about everything that had happened. She was too overwhelmed to cry. None of this seemed real.
Mr. Dennis had left for a bit. Sammy was alone at their house, and he wanted to make sure he was fed and settled for the night. Now, Rose Dennis sat in the chair beside her bed flipping through a magazine. Mrs. Dennis had said very little since the social worker left. Gracie thought maybe she just didn’t know what to say. She looked at the magazine. There was a brightly colored quilt on the cover. “Do you like to sew?” she asked, unable to think of any other subject to discuss.
Mrs. Dennis looked from the magazine. “Yes, I do. I used to do it for a living back when my kids were little. I even made my own wedding dress when me and Edward got married. Didn’t have much of a choice, to be honest.”
“Why not,” Gracie asked.
Rose smiled. “Oh, we were just kids. I was 19 years old. Edward was 24. We were flat broke. Edward had just gotten out of the army not long before, and I was working at a little shop here in town doing alterations for people. Weddings were simpler affairs back then, not as fancy as they are now, but we couldn’t even afford that. I sure couldn’t dish out a bunch of money for a dress.”
“I thought your parents were supposed to pay for the wedding,” she said.
Rose chuckled, and her faded blue eyes sparkled, squinting a bit, as a mischievous grin spread across her face, “Well, I guess they are, but my daddy didn’t want me marrying Edward, you see. He wanted me to go off to college and make something of myself. Anyway, I had my heart set on this pretty, little wedding dress I’d seen in a magazine, but daddy wouldn’t pay for it. Mama said he was being silly, but she wouldn’t argue with him about it. So, instead, she went and bought all the stuff I needed to make the dress. We worked on it nearly every night for a month. Turned out pretty good, too.”
“Did your dad know?” Gracie asked.
“Oh, Lord no. I mean, he knew she helped me make it, but she never told him she paid for the materials. He would have pitched a fit. She told me later he was mad until the day of the wedding. Complained all the way to the church, but he told her afterwards that I was the prettiest bride he’d ever seen.”
“So, did he start liking Mr. Dennis after that?”
Rose raised her eyebrows and smiled. “Well, that took a bit longer, but, by the first Christmas, Daddy had decided he was alright. Then we had our son and daughter, and Daddy became a big ol’ pushover.” She chuckled. “So it all worked out.”
Gracie smiled, trying to imagine Mrs. Dennis as a young bride.
Rose spoke again. “Every once in a while now I make a little dress or something for one of my grandkids, but mostly I make quilts.”
“My grandmother sews sometimes, too,” Gracie said. “I have a blanket she made for me as a baby. I still keep it on my bed. It’s too small, but it reminds me of her.” Gracie thought of the blanket lying on her bed at home. She remembered how it felt to snuggle her face down into it as she drifted off to sleep. She wished she had it here with her.
Mrs. Dennis smiled. “Oh, that’s sweet. I’m making blankets for my grandkids for Christmas this year. I hope they love them as much as you love the one your grandmother made for you.”
“How old are they? Do they live here in town?” Gracie asked.
“No, my daughter, Julie, lives down in the flatlands, about an hour from the Tennessee border. She and your mom were friends growing up. She has two little ones. Marie, her daughter, is four. Her little boy, Jonathan, will be two in November. Jeff, my son, moved to Florida a few years ago. His daughter just turned eight last month.”
“I love Florida. Do you ever get to go see them?”
“Oh, yes. We go down there at least once a year. My daughter usually meets us there, and we make a big family vacation out of it. They live in the Pensacola area so we spend a lot of time at the beach with them. My daughter’s kids love that. Then they come up here for the holidays.”
Gracie grinned. “We’re supposed to go to Florida this year…” Her smile faded as reality hit her again. There was no more “we.” She was alone. She steered the conversation away from the topic. “I’m sure your grandkids will love the blankets. I’m getting kind of sleepy now.”
“Well, just lie down and get some rest then,” Rose said.
Gracie lay there for a while with her eyes closed, but she couldn’t sleep. She was glad to have Mrs. Dennis nearby. She might not know her extremely well, but she definitely wasn’t a stranger. If Gracie had to be in the hospital, she didn’t want to be surrounded by strangers. Eventually, fatigue won out and she drifted off.
CHAPTER 10
Ray Melton had wandered around town for a few hours after leaving the police station. He couldn’t go home, so he tried to figure out if there was anyone in town that he hadn’t pissed off – anyone who might let him crash for the night. One by one, he considered each possibility, but his mind always conjured some hazy, drunken memory that made a warm welcome at that person’s house unlikely.
Finally, he stood at the front door of the little blue house that belonged to Alicia Barnes. He realized that, strangely enough, his ex-wife probably hated him less than everyone else did. Of course, that didn’t exactly mean she liked him, either. After they divorced, Ray had gone through a really rough time, but Alicia had just moved on with her life like their marriage had never happened. Ray hated the idea of asking her to let him spend the night, but he had no money for a room and nowhere else to go so he knocked.
Alicia answered the door, looking as clean, beautiful, and judgmental as ever. Her thick chestnut hair fell over her shoulder on one side. She was wearing a low-cut top, and Ray’s eyes dropped toward her breasts for a moment before returning to her face. Alicia scowled at him, and he resisted the urge to say something about it.
Alicia crossed her arms and leaned against the door frame, “What do
you want?”
Ray delivered the speech he’d practice about the day’s events and how desperate he was for a place to crash for the night. When he was finished, Alicia was silent. He wasn’t sure if she was shocked or mad, probably both, but it didn’t look likely that he would be crashing on her couch tonight. “You know what, never mind. I shouldn’t have asked,” Ray said as he turned to leave.
“Wait,” Alicia said as she stepped aside and motioned him in. “You can get yourself in some awful messes, but I guess that this one isn’t actually your fault. So, yeah, you can stay for tonight.” She stepped aside to let him in.
Ray thanked her and headed inside. Alicia continued, “But there will be no drinking, and it is just for tonight. Come tomorrow, you’ll have to figure something else out. Got it?”
Ray frowned, but he was in no position to argue, not if he wanted to sleep indoors, and, after today, he very much did want to sleep indoors. Who knew if there were any more of those crazies out there? Alicia offered him a sandwich, and he suddenly realized how hungry he was. He hadn’t eaten at all today. She sat down at the table as he was eating and filled him in on the bits and pieces of the story she had heard today. Then she asked him to tell her the details of Amber’s attack. He obliged.
When he’d finished, they sat quietly for a few minutes. Alicia offered no condolences about Amber. Ray wasn’t terribly surprised. Amber was merely the latest in a string of women Ray had shacked up with since their divorce. Alicia must have guessed there were no real feelings involved. She always could read him pretty well.
Ray stared at the kitchen wall, thinking about all the shit that had happened today. The Ray who had faced Josh down this morning had been hungover and working on a new buzz by the time it all went down. Now, a far too sober Ray, realized just how crazy this whole day had been. He thought about all the other things that had happened around town today. It couldn’t be a coincidence. At least most of it had to be linked, but that was a lot of chaos to be caused by one teenage boy.
