ONE SMALL VICTORY Read online

  “What’s the hurry?”

  “We need to let this mother bury her son.”

  Steve grabbed another handful of nuts and waited for the Chief’s response. He was a man long on procedure and short on emotion. Procedure said a patrol officer could run errands. A detective had to put his or her time to better use. But Gonzalez also believed in victim’s rights. It could go either way.

  Gonzalez rubbed slender fingers across his chin, then went back to his puzzle. “Don’t make it a habit,” he finally said.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Jenny only half listened to the buzz of conversation drift around the room. It was one of those odd periods of numbness when she felt distanced. This wasn’t her living room, her friends, her mother. They all belonged to someone else, and she was watching some bizarre form of reality TV.

  Earlier, she’d been relieved when Lt. Morrity called to tell her the serum tests were negative. So now the three-day countdown could begin. He’d been kind enough to tell her again that he was sorry he couldn’t rely on her word as proof about the drugs. The kindness had been a comfort.

  It had also been comforting to know she wasn’t wrong about Michael. Not that being wrong would have changed anything. Even if Michael had been taking drugs, the accident still wasn’t his fault. Brad was the one who had been driving too fast.

  Out of nowhere an almost uncontrollable surge of anger hit her. How dare he? Was he so stupid he didn’t realize? Or didn’t he care?

  She considered going to the hospital and confronting Brad’s parents. Did they know what their son and his foolishness had done?

  Then she realized she was being unfair. Of course they knew. What parent wouldn’t? Even as their own son hovered in that murky place between life and death, they had to have a painful awareness of the one who hadn’t made it. They didn’t need her reminder.

  Noticing the drink she clutched in sweaty hands, Jenny took a swallow of lukewarm cola and tried to focus on what people were saying. Most of the comments seemed to center on how unfortunate it was that drugs had invaded the security of their little rural community. How unfortunate that young peoples’ lives were often so difficult that they turned to drugs. How unfortunate it was that it was ruining so many futures.

  “It’s not unfortunate.” Anger put a strident edge to Jenny’s voice. “It’s a crime. Anyone who deals in drugs ought to be shot.”

  Stunned silence followed the outburst as gazes shifted anywhere but at her. Then her mother cleared her throat. “We all realize that, dear. There’s no need to shout.”

  “I’m sorry.” Jenny stemmed the force of the emotion and focused on the startled expression on Carol’s face. “It’s just that everybody just sits around and talks about it. But nothing is done.”

  “What do you suggest, Jen?” her friend asked. “Arm ourselves with Uzis and blow them all away? Wonder Women of the New Millenium?”

  Jenny laughed as an unflattering image flashed through her mind. “I’m not sure about the steel bra, but maybe the gun’s not a bad idea.”

  “Jenny! Surely you’re not serious,” Helen’s voice cracked in alarm.

  “Of course not.” Jenny smiled. “We’re just talking here, right?”

  ~*~

  Jenny wasn’t sure how she got through the next couple of days before the funeral. It helped when Mitchell made her laugh by saying she was hurting her own business by not having flowers for the viewing. And oddly enough, it helped when Ralph showed up and the other kids clung to him for a little while. She hadn’t realized how much their needs had drained her.

  Now, she stood beside the grave as the workers prepared to lower the casket. The strength seeped from her legs and she wanted to slither into the hole with her son. How could she go on without him?

  Ralph touched her hand and the contact kept her upright. A light breeze brushed across her face and she became aware of muffled sobs beside her. Alicia. The girl had buried her head in Jenny’s side. When had that happened and I didn’t even feel it? Jenny wrapped an arm around her daughter and tried to be strong for her.

  ~*~

  Scott watched the casket holding his brother’s body slowly descend into the large dark hole. He could smell the dank, sour odor of the dirt that ringed the grave, and it made his stomach roil. He wanted to scream. He wanted to throw himself on the bronze surface of the casket. He wanted to pummel his brother’s lifeless body. And all of those urges felt so horribly wrong. How could he be this...angry?

  He glanced at his mother, who had one arm around his sister. His mother kept her face forward, a solitary tear trickling down her cheek. She did nothing to acknowledge the tear. Almost as if she had gone into some deep inner place and there was no awareness of the outside. This was a demeanor Scott had seen a lot of recently, and he wondered when he was going to get his mother back.

  His father stood on the other side of his mother, hands clasped behind his back. His suit coat was unbuttoned, allowing the wind to lift the end of a Mickey Mouse tie. Scott vaguely remembered sending that to him for Christmas a few years ago. Did he think he’d get points for wearing it? His dad turned as if sensing that he was being watched.

  Scott wanted to feel some emotion beyond indifference toward the man. He’d at least had the decency to show up for the funeral. But even his little smile of encouragement failed to stir a shred of affection. How could they have become such strangers in just a few short years?

  Last night at the funeral home, his father had said Scott could call on him anytime. “I know I haven’t been a great father. Hell, I haven’t even been a good father. But I do care. And I will help you if you ever need it.”

  If the little speech was supposed to be reassuring, it had had the opposite effect. Scott had employed every ounce of restraint he had to keep from striking out. If the fucker really cared he wouldn’t have been gone all this time.

  Another surge of anger swept over him and he had a hard time separating the anger he was feeling toward his dad and that he held for his brother.

  And both of them felt so wrong.

  Caitlin slipped her hand into his and the cool touch of her skin was soothing. He squeezed her hand and she returned the pressure. He could almost feel the ugly emotions drain out of him in response to her comfort. His was glad his mother allowed Caitlin to be up here with family. It’s not like she had any right to be. They weren’t engaged or anything. Weren’t even an item. Not yet, anyway. The friendship was too new for anything like that. But he felt good around her, and he needed that goodness right now.

  His whole life had been shattered, and he was still waiting for all the pieces to fall.

  ~*~

  The scene was so much like the one a few days ago, Jenny wondered for a moment if she was in some weird time warp. They were all gathered in her living room again. Her Mom. Carol. Mitchell and Jeffrey. And dear, sweet Millie. All of the people who had been in and out of her house a hundred times since that first awful day.

  Now it was the second worse day of her life, and she noted the differences. Her brother Jim, stood talking to their mother. He’d come alone. Anna, only a few weeks from delivering their third child, wasn’t able to make the trip. Complications had her in bed for the duration.

  Caitlin hovered with Scott and Alicia in a far corner. Perhaps they all felt a little awkward in the presence of so many adults. Or was there some level of comfort that drew them together?

  Ralph stood alone in the doorway between the living room and the kitchen, looking uncomfortable in this home they had not shared. She’d moved up here from Plano after their divorce, seeking the slower pace of small-town living. He’d moved to California the following year without having set a foot into the new house.

  The fact that he’d never seen it was the strongest evidence of his lack of interest in the kids and their lives.

  Earlier, their home had been jammed with after-the-funeral-well-wishers. Most of whom had stayed briefly, then left as if eager to escape. Many of the visitors had
brought more food and she wondered how she was ever supposed to know whom to thank for all this kindness.

  She tried to smile and act the hostess when anyone stared at her too long, and she knew she’d scream if one more person said how sorry he or she was. If she just kept busy, she wouldn’t have to think about what they’d done just a few short hours ago. And if she ate, even though her stomach rebelled at the thought, nobody would want to hug her when she had a plate of food.

  So that’s how she got through the last couple of hours, until more people started drifting off.

  Jim embraced their mother, then strode toward Jenny. He took the plate from her hands and set it on the sideboard, then pulled her close. Even though he was younger, he’d always played the older brother role, and she’d learned to count on him for comfort and protection when needed. And oh, how she needed it now. She leaned into his strength for a long moment, savoring the warm, masculine smell of his cologne and the feel of strong muscles as he wrapped his arms around her.

  “I’ve got to go, little Sis.”

  Jenny stepped back. “I’m so glad you came.”

  “Me, too.” Emotion clouded his face and he glanced away.

  “Want me to drive you to the airport?”

  He shook his head. “I’m hitching a ride with your ex.”

  “Really?” Jenny couldn’t hide the surprise.

  Jim chuckled. “Yeah. Figured that would give me an hour or so to rip him a new one.”

  “You wouldn’t—”

  “Naw. Not that I don’t want to. Never did get to tell the bastard what I thought of him.”

  Jenny smoothed the lapels of his coat. “Give Anna my love.”

  “Will do.”

  “And call me when the baby comes.”

  “Of course.”

  Jenny watched him walk toward Ralph, who was now apparently saying goodbye to the kids. She thought about following. Common courtesy would prompt her to see any guest to the door, but she just didn’t know how much longer she could keep up this façade of civility.

  As if sensing her reluctance, Ralph merely waved at her before heading toward the door with Jim. Alicia tagged along s if sensing someone had to play hostess.

  A little while later, Mitchell left with Jeffrey after assuring her that he would cover the store for as long as she needed him to. The reassurance was a small bit of comfort on this horrible day, and she smiled her thanks.

  Finally Jenny was alone. She stood in the middle of the room, wondering what she was supposed to do now. One of the grief brochures Hobkins had given her had said that the funeral was supposed to bring closure. That often it marked a turning toward regaining life.

  She hadn’t felt anything close to closure this afternoon.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Jenny pulled up in front of the white frame house and turned off the engine. It seemed like years since she’d been here, not just a few weeks, and she saw the old Victorian structure with a mixture of familiarity and surprise at details forgotten; much like a soldier might view his home after a tour of duty. The sign still needed a fresh coat of paint. And the name she’d thought was so clever seven years ago struck her as silly today. A TOUCH OF JOY/Flowers for all Occasions.

  She was so glad that Scott had stood firm about no flowers at the funeral parlor. It was hard enough coming back to work without having her business be a constant reminder. Although maybe the reminder would be good. For the past two weeks she’d alternated between moments of such clarity the pain had cut deep and total disorientation where she felt almost nothing. Sometimes she even had trouble remembering what the funeral had been like. And she was still waiting for that turning point.

  Ralph had surprised her a week after the funeral by calling and his voice had not seemed heavy with grief anymore. Had he found the corner and turned it? Or was the ease of conversation just because they both avoided any mention of Michael?

  The biggest surprise of his call was his request to talk to the kids. He actually spent more than two minutes talking to each of them, and she wondered if losing Michael had made Ralph realize some things. She certainly hoped so. The kids needed a father. God knows I haven’t done such a hot job trying to carry the load alone. Maybe that’s why—

  Jenny tore herself away from the thought and opened her car door. Go to work and don’t try to figure out the ‘why.’

  Pushing through the front door, she had a moment of disorientation as if she were stepping into the store for the first time. Even the bell announcing her arrival seemed alien. She hardly had time to consider why that was happening before Mitchell looked up from the papers strewn across the front counter. He rushed over to crush her against his six-foot frame. “Jen. How are you?”

  “I’ll be better when you let me breathe.”

  “Oh. Sorry.” He stepped back and considered her with his pale green eyes. “The funeral was lovely.”

  “Yes. Yes it was.” Jenny swallowed the sudden lump.

  Mitchell touched her arm gently. “You shouldn’t be here.”

  The sentiment almost undid her. She forced a smile and tried for a joke. “I own this place in case you forgot.”

  Mitchell smiled, too, and it was like a light came on in a dark room.

  There. You can do this. All you have to do is pretend things are normal and everyone will think they are.

  Mitchell walked back to where he’d been working. Jenny hung her denim jacket on the coat tree by the door and followed him behind the counter that spanned the front of the room. Before the conversion into a retail space, this had been the parlor of the stately old house. The large kitchen and dining room directly behind it provided the main work area.

  The counter had once been the bar at The Broken Spoke – a now defunct country joint that used to book some incredible local bands. The deep mahogany had been restored and polished to a rich shine that was almost mirror-perfect.

  “What do we have so far today?” Jenny asked, picking up a stack of order forms and leafing through them.

  “An anniversary bouquet. Three gifts for the hospital and two funeral arrangements.”

  Jenny didn’t miss the quick glance he shot her beneath the straggles of blonde hair that washed over his broad forehead.

  “It’s okay,” she said. “I’m not going to break every time somebody says ‘funeral.’”

  The words rang with bravery, and she wished she were as sure of them on the inside.

  “Still. Maybe you should take a few more days.” Mitchell picked up a yellow carnation and slipped it into the arrangement he’d been working on when she’d walked in. Even though he pretended concentration, Jenny felt his eyes on her.

  “I’ll be fine.” She grabbed an apron and tied it. “But I’ll work on the hospital gifts.”

  He glanced up and she flashed him a quick smile. “Gotcha.”

  By noon several more orders had come in, and Mitchell ran to make the hospital deliveries. Jenny finished the anniversary flowers and prioritized the new orders. If Mitchell made it back within an hour, they’d be able to get everything done by three. But first, lunch.

  She went into the back room and grabbed her bag and a cola out of the old refrigerator, kicking the door closed with her toe. There was a state-of-the-art refrigeration system for the flowers, but the food was housed in a broken down Kenmore that groaned with the effort to keep the interior temperature below 45 degrees. The incongruity made Jenny smile. Maybe Marie Antoinette should have said, “Let them eat roses.”

  Clearing a space on the card table, Jenny unwrapped her PB and J sandwich. It had been a year since she’d trusted anything else to the venerable refrigerator.

  As she ate, she went through the accounts-receivable ledger and noticed that several old accounts had been brought up to date. She wondered what Mitchell had done. Threatened a few limbs? A picture of the man threatening anything was impossible to conjure. If he ever killed anyone, it would be with kindness. And again, for the millionth time since he’d come to work
for her, Jenny wondered why the nicest, most sensitive men had to be gay.

  If she could find someone like him who also liked a good heterosexual romp, she might even cast caution aside and go play. It had been a long time. Partly because she’d been too hurt when Ralph left and partly because she didn’t have time to breathe when the kids were younger and she was drowning in their needs. The time to find and engage a partner in any kind of bedroom activity had simply been non-existent.

  “But just don’t let it atrophy,” Carol had cautioned during one late-night pajama party - which they both had agreed was better than the ones of high school because they could have beer with their pizza. “There might actually come a time when you want to use it.”

  “Fat chance.”

  And here today, surrounded by symbols of love and romance, she had the same thought. She’d probably win the lottery before she ever met a man who could ease her out of her fears and love her for all her peculiarities, not in spite of them.