A Million Little Lies

by Bette Lee Crosby

  That night the eleventh hour came and went, but Suzanna made no mention of an early morning and neither did Gregg. As he trailed a line of kisses along her neck and spoke of a future together, she knew every last trace of Suzanna was gone. Although she could not say how or when it happened, Darla Jean Parker had let down her guard and fallen in love with this stranger from Pennsylvania.

  Earl

  Piney Acres Problems

  THE DAY AFTER HE’D GOTTEN Bobby Doherty’s address from Pauline, Earl called the bowling alley and said he’d need to take a few days off. A family emergency, he claimed. He figured he’d do as he did with Pauline: stake the place out in Piney Acres, watch who was coming and going, and get the lay of the land before making his move.

  If Bobby was working a day job, getting Suzanna alone would be a piece of cake. Earl could wait until the guy was out of the house, then show up on the doorstep with a bouquet of flowers. He might even swing by the drugstore and pick up one of those stuffed toys for Annie. Him having something for the kid was sure to squelch any doubts Suzanna had.

  Earl tossed a few clothes and a bottle of Seagram’s 7 into a duffle bag, then headed for Piney Acres. It was a long, slow, crappy drive, mostly back roads full of potholes. Twice he turned down the wrong road and ended up in a cow pasture.

  The second time, he could feel the agitation pressing against his chest. Not good. He wanted to be at his best when he talked to Suzanna. He had to convince her he’d changed. But how was he supposed to do that when this trip was one lousy problem after another?

  He didn’t always understand Suzanna, and now more so than ever. She hated the boonies, and Sun Grove was a city compared to this area. Okay, they’d gone through a number of rough patches and that last night was something that maybe shouldn’t have happened, but her leaving him to come here just didn’t make sense. Why, he asked himself. Why?

  The question got stuck in his head and started to niggle him. Shortly after the paved road turned to gravel, he came up with an answer that only added to his misery. She’s still in love with the guy.

  That thought was like a razor blade slicing off a piece of his heart. Trying to rid himself of it, he snapped on the radio and started searching for anything to take his mind off of the painfully obvious answer. He hoped to find a talk show or an oldies station, but all he got was static and crackling. After rotating the dial back and forth a dozen times, he finally caught what sounded like a voice and tried to zero in on that. For a while it was like a chicken squawking. When it cleared, he heard Big Jim saying they were in for two days of rain.

  “Great, just great,” he grumbled and clicked the radio off.

  Minutes later he spotted the sign: Piney Acres, 2 Miles. An arrow pointed to the right.

  Piney Acres was a town that seemed to rise up out of nowhere: the streets paved with blacktop, the squat little houses clustered together in some spots and separated by overgrown thickets of scrub pine in others. On almost every corner there was a sign pointing the way to the Piney Acres Clubhouse and Golf Course.

  Following the signs, Earl turned onto Long Drive Road and headed for the clubhouse. It seemed as good a spot as any to start. He’d ask a few questions, find out where Hibiscus Cove was located, and maybe, if he got lucky, catch someone who’d seen Suzanna.

  After fifteen minutes of following Long Drive Road through the different neighborhoods, Earl’s frustration was close to the breaking point. The road went nowhere. It was an endless loop that wound its way through the streets then circled around and brought him right back to where he’d started. At first he’d only suspected it, but when he passed the same yellow and pink house for a third time he was absolutely certain.

  He drove another five blocks and saw that same blasted sign on every corner. All of them with an arrow pointing to Long Drive Road.

  “What the hell…” he grumbled.

  He slowed down, hoping to see a second sign indicating a turn-off or a bend in the road he might have missed, but there was nothing. Shortly after he passed the yellow and pink house for the fourth time, he spotted a street sign for Clubhouse Drive. Figuring that had to be it, he turned in.

  Several blocks down, the street dead-ended. A single-story building sat directly across the road. It was as low as the houses he’d passed but nearly a block wide. Above the door was a sign that read Piney Acres Clubhouse. Given the aggravation he’d already gone through, Earl was tempted to pull up to the front door and leave his car smack in front of the “No Parking” sign; he didn’t, but only because it would have been like thumbing his nose at the place. Right now, he had to make friends with whoever was inside. It was the only way he could find out what he needed to know.

  To get from the parking lot to the entrance, he had to circle the building. Three-quarters of the way around, he heard a distant clap of thunder and quickened his step. In Florida the rain could be on one side of the street and not the other. It came and went in the blink of eye and was not worth worrying about. He hurried on and pushed through the front door.

  The lobby had a desk and three leather sofas, all empty. In the center of the floor a stanchion sign read, “Golf Restricted – Cart Path Only – Men’s Luncheon Canceled”.

  Earl wondered if that was good or bad as far as Bobby Doherty was concerned. If he were a golfer, would he have gone off to work instead? Or would he spend the day in bed with Suzanna the way Earl used to do?

  Thoughts of how he and Suzanna had enjoyed those days saddened him. Annie, she was the problem. She was still an infant back then, but once she got old enough to talk, everything changed. First it was no swearing, then no walking around the house naked, and no drinking. Annie had taken all the fun out of life, and Suzanna didn’t even realize it. Maybe if he reminded her of how much fun they’d had, she might consider leaving the kid with Bobby. That was, if he’d be sucker enough to take her.

  The sound of laughter came from the back, and Earl followed it down the hallway. Just beyond the double doors was a room full of tables, most of them occupied by poker-playing foursomes. Earl stood there for several minutes; no one turned, looked up, or bothered to greet him. Tired of waiting, he walked over to the nearest table and said, “Excuse me.”

  The mustached man closest to him glanced up then looked back to his opponent across the table.

  “I think you’re bluffing,” he said. “I’m gonna raise two cents and call.” He tossed two pennies into the pile of coins in the center of the table.

  The players on both sides folded, but Mr. Mustache’s opponent just sat there studying the cards in his hand.

  “Excuse me,” Earl repeated, only this time his words had a bite to them. “You mind answering a question?”

  No one even glanced up, and that ticked him off no end. There were two things Earl couldn’t abide: one was being put down and the other was being ignored. Mr. Mustache was doing both. He had half a mind to upend the table and send the cards flying. Then they’d acknowledge his presence. He’d make damn sure of it.

  The vein in Earl’s neck throbbed, the muscles in his back tensed, and the inside of his head felt hotter than a furnace. At the moment, nothing would have given him greater pleasure than seeing these assholes get what they deserved, but he had to stay focused. Finding Suzanna was why he was there. He drew a deep breath and turned to the player who had folded.

  “I’m looking for Bobby Doherty, you know him?”

  The player gave a nod, held up a finger, and mouthed the words One minute.

  The furnace inside his head burned hotter still. He gritted his teeth and counted backward from ten, as he’d been told to do. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t. Right now, he was on the edge and sliding fast. Just as he leaned forward and gripped the rim of the table, the opponent tossed his cards down.

  “I’m out,” he said begrudgingly.

  As Mr. Mustache was scooping up the coins, the side player turned back to Earl. “Yes, I know Bobby. You a friend?”

  Earl gave a no
n-committal nod. “Yeah, but it’s been a while. I’m tight with his cousin, Pauline. She said I ought to look him up while I’m over here.”

  The guy looked around scanning the room. “I don’t see him here today. Could be he’s with a lady friend.”

  “Oh?” Earl felt his heart quicken. This was it; the wait had been worth it. “So, he’s got a lady friend, huh?”

  Before he could describe Suzanna or ask if Annie was with her, the player guffawed as if he’d just delivered the punchline of a joke. “Bobby don’t have a lady friend, he’s got a half dozen. The women love him, but only God knows why.”

  The idea of this guy taking Suzanna away from him and then cheating on her was mind-blowing. After causing such a ruckus over every little thing he did, why would she tolerate cheating? It was way worse than drinking or using a few obscenities. He was about to describe Suzanna and ask if she was the lady friend when a new thought suddenly crossed his mind.

  Maybe she wasn’t all that tolerant. Maybe she wanted out but had no place to go. If that were the case she’d be glad to come home, especially once he promised there’d be no more drinking or cussing in front of the kid. A grin curled the corners of his mouth. This was gonna be easier than he thought.

  Trying not to tip his hand, he said, “So you figure the best place to catch Bobby is at his place on Hibiscus?”

  The card player shrugged. “He comes and goes, but you can give it a shot.”

  Mr. Mustache dealt another hand then leaned back in his chair and looked up at Earl. “You wanna speed this up, buddy? You’re holding up the game.”

  A flash of heat sizzled across Earl’s brain, and he again reached for the table. That’s when the opponent, a man with silver hair and cool blue eyes, spoke.

  “To get to Hibiscus, go back, take a right onto Long Drive, then a left on Palmetto and a quick right onto Hibiscus. Doherty’s house is the second one in.”

  “Thanks,” Earl mumbled, pushing the word through his teeth.

  He turned and hurried back down the hallway. It was either that or bust Mr. Mustache in the mouth. The fire inside his head was causing him to perspire, and he could smell the stink of it on his skin. Anger came quicker with Suzanna gone, and it was more uncontrollable. Years ago, he’d been able to hold back and keep it in check but now it was tougher.

  He had to believe it was a temporary thing, a mood swing that came with spending too much time alone. Once Suzanna was back, he’d get it under control. He was certain of it. Well, reasonably certain.

  Following the directions he’d been given, Earl headed for Hibiscus Cove and found it with no trouble. He parked around the corner on Palmetto with the car partially hidden but still having a clear line of sight to the house. It was after four, and the sky was already growing dusky. Soon the lights would be coming on, and he’d be able to see if someone was inside the house. For now, all he could do was wait and watch.

  He sat there mulling over what he’d say to Suzanna, and the minutes ticked by so slowly it felt like hours. The problem with waiting was that it left him with nothing to do but think. It was a lot easier when he could move around. At the bowling alley, he could kill an hour working the counter or burn off steam loading pins into the frame. Here the only thing he could do was wait.

  When the waiting became so tedious that Earl thought his head would explode, he pulled out the bottle of Seagram’s, took a swig, and relaxed into the comforting burn that slid down his throat. That drink was followed by another and then another. As he watched the dark clouds roll across the sky a rumble of thunder sounded in the distance, and before long raindrops splattered the windshield.

  With the rain came a blast of cold air that sent a shiver up Earl’s spine. The fall weather was one of the things he hated about Florida. The days hot and sticky, the nights cold and damp. After 45 years he should’ve been used to it, but he wasn’t. With a shirt that was too thin and a belly that was empty, he felt cold and hungry. Earlier he’d had no interest in food, but now his stomach was rumbling. He tried to remember when he’d last eaten. Yesterday? The day before? Grabbing the whiskey bottle, he downed several gulps and again found the warmth of it comforting.

  It seemed downright stupid for Suzanna to be so dead set against him having a drink now and again. Especially when it was something that made him feel so good. Whiskey had gotten him through many a bad night. It was something he could count on. With a bottle of whiskey in his hand he felt stronger, more powerful, more certain of himself.

  When the lights in the surrounding houses started to come on, he downed another swig and leaned close to the windshield, hoping to see through the rain.

  Before long the grays and blues of the sky disappeared, and there was nothing but blackness overhead. Still Doherty’s house remained dark. Earl imagined them out to dinner. Laughing, happy, enjoying drinks and a hot meal while he sat here cold and hungry. He took another swig. No matter how long he had to wait, he was determined to see it through. He had something to say, and like it or not Suzanna would have to listen.

  After several hours, his eyelids grew heavy. He was drifting on the edge of sleep when the sound of a car startled him. He watched as the black sedan rounded the corner and pulled into Doherty’s driveway. A man got out, opened the garage door, then pulled the car into the garage and closed the door behind him. There was a woman in the car, Earl was certain of it, but given the rain and darkness he couldn’t say whether or not it was Suzanna. The thought that it might be riled him, and he reached for the bottle again.

  Minutes later a light came on in the front of the house then a second one in the back. The one in the back had to be a bedroom. Remembering how it was when Suzanna first came to his bedroom, he climbed from the car, opened the trunk, and took out the tire iron. The likelihood was he wouldn’t need it, but better safe than sorry.

  Rounding the corner of Palmetto, he crossed Hibiscus, his shirt now soaked by the rain but the fire inside of him raging. From the walkway in front of the house, he could see a bar on the left side of the room. Doherty was standing there, a cocktail shaker in his hand. He looked over his shoulder and hollered something, but it was too far away to hear.

  Earl moved closer and caught the sound of her voice, muffled but like what he remembered. Closer up he got a look at Doherty and understood what Suzanna saw in the guy. Dressed in a jacket and tie, he was a sharp dresser, had a nice house, and likely came from money. But all that didn’t negate the fact that he was a cheater, which was something she probably didn’t know.

  Doherty filled two stemmed glasses and carried them toward the right side of the room. When Earl lost sight of him, he made his way through the bougainvillea hedge and stood with his back pushed up against the house. He hesitated a moment to make certain he hadn’t been discovered, then turned to peer in the window.

  Doherty was gone; so were the glasses. Now that he had a full view of the room, Earl saw the hallway leading to the rear of the house. He was ready to head for that window when he heard Doherty’s voice. He stepped back into the shadows and remained motionless.

  Doherty called out saying he’d be right in; then there was music, and the light was turned off. Anxious to get a look inside that back window, Earl clamored through the bushes. He was almost clear when the heel of his shoe caught on a root, and he tumbled forward. The tire iron flew out of his hand and clanged against the walkway. The light clicked on a split-second later.

  With his heart hammering against his chest, Earl flattened himself against the ground, afraid to move a muscle. The light caught the top of the bushes and fell across the yard but Earl remained face down in the dirt, hidden from sight. A shadow moved inside the house. It stopped for a moment then moved on, and the room went dark again.

  Earl waited until he was certain the coast was clear before he scrambled up, grabbed the tire iron, and headed toward the back yard. Once there, he saw where the light was coming from. Two clerestory windows. They were a good six feet wide but less than two feet tal
l and so high up it was impossible to see into the room. He took a step back, trying to catch a glimpse of the woman from a distance, but the only thing he could see was a slow-moving ceiling fan.

  In the light of day, Earl might have had sense enough to walk away, but given the amount of whiskey he’d downed and the raging fire in his head he didn’t. Instead he grabbed a trash can, dumped the contents in the yard, then upended the can and climbed atop it. Holding onto the window frame, he pulled himself up to where he could see the entire bedroom. It was empty; no Doherty, no Suzanna.

  He heard voices again, only this time they came from outside. He let go of the window frame and tried to scramble down, but the can wobbled and Earl went over, landing flat on his back. Before he could move, he was blinded by a flashlight and heard an officer yelling that he was under arrest.

  ——————

  SINCE EARL WAS FOUND WITH a tire iron, he was considered armed and dangerous and held in the local lock-up for the next 24 hours. On Friday he stood before the district court judge trying to claim it was all a mistake.

  “I wasn’t myself,” he said. “I been sick with worry over my fiancé who took our daughter and run off with a guy named Bobby Doherty.”

  The judge looked over at Doherty. “You know anything about this, Mr. Doherty?”

  “Absolutely not. I’m not a man who seduces young women with children.”

  Standing firm on his claim, Earl said, “I know for a fact my Suzanna’s with a guy named Bobby Doherty. If he ain’t the one, then he knows who else has got the exact same name, and he ought to say who.”

  With a curious expression, the judge eyed Doherty and asked, “Do you know the party the defendant is referring to?”

  “No, sir, your honor,” Doherty said. “The only other Bobby Doherty I know is my nephew, and he moved to Atlanta over three years ago. He’s a highly respected lawyer with Greene and Garrett and a happily married man. I doubt he’d have an interest in cavorting with this man’s so-called fiancé.”