Revenge is Sweet (A Samantha Church Mystery) (15 page)

“Promise?”

Sam bit her bottom lip. Or course she’d promised. She couldn’t get her back to Denver fast enough. “Promise,” Sam said, her eyes still glassy with tears.

The rest of the weekend on Canal Island passed better than Sam could have ever imagined. Esther let Sam have the car on Saturday and just the two of them went to breakfast, shopping, to the movies and then to dinner. For a treat after dinner, they ate giant hot fudge sundaes. On Sunday, they rode the ferry to Seattle and went to the zoo, the aquarium and in and out of all the shops along the waterfront. They shared a big dish of fish and chips at Ivar’s sitting outside beside Puget Sound. Sam bought everything April wanted, and anything it looked like she wanted. They even took a couple of Esther’s dogs to a nearby park and walked with them on leashes. For the most part the weather cooperated. Rain never materialized and Sam’s thick sweaters and her Polar Tec jacket were just enough to ward off the chill. Perpetually gray clouds covered the sky each morning, but by late afternoon, the marine layer would lift to mostly sunny skies.

Everything was fine until Sam started to pack that Sunday evening. April came trudging in her bedroom with her oversized suitcase. “Here Mommie,” April said trying to lift the suitcase, which easily outweighed her.

“Sweetie, I don’t need that big suitcase,” Sam said as she stopped packing to help April put the suitcase on her bed. “All my clothes are going to fit just fine in the one I brought.”

“No,” April said, slightly impatient that her mother didn’t seem to understand. “This one’s for
my
stuff,” April pointed at her chest with her index finger.

Sam didn’t like the thought that had just occurred to her. She could feel herself squinting. When April had asked her to promise to take her home, she did not realize that it would not be, could not be now.

Sam closed her bedroom door and sat down on the bed. She patted the space beside her and April climbed on the bed and sat next to her mother. She was gently holding her daughter’s hands in hers and rubbing the tops of them lightly with her thumbs. “Sweetie, listen to me, when I said I was going to take you home, it wasn’t going to be today.”

“But you said so,” April said and she pulled her hands out of her mother’s grasp so quickly that Sam’s hands were left dangling in mid air.

“I know I did, baby, but…”

Sam hesitated and then her voice fell away, with the day in court when the judge awarded custody to Jonathan coming back in complete detail. When Sam tried to touch her, April turned her whole body away from her mother. “I don’t want to stay here anymore. I hate it here,” April said.

“Sweetie, I know,” Sam said and wrapped her arms completely around her daughter’s body and prayed with every ounce of strength she had that April would not pull away. April became as limp as a rag doll in her mother’s arms. “April, please. I want nothing more than to take you home with me right now. Nothing more than that. Nona, Howard, I … we all miss you so much. And if I could right this very minute, I would. But … I … I can’t now, baby.”

“Why?
” April said and her voice was flat as a red line. “’Cause you’re drinking all the time?”

Sam felt a piece of herself break off and fall away. She felt hollow inside, dead and empty like an old tree trunk decaying in the forest. She had seen enough of them this weekend on Canal Island.
“That’s what Daddy said. He called you a drunk,” April said, in the same flat voice. “That’s why that day he took me to the airport, ’cause he said Grandma Church could do a better job of raising me than you could.”

“Sweetie, yes,
it’s true. I do have a drinking problem.” Sam wanted desperately to defend herself, but badmouthing her ex-husband to their child simply wasn’t the way to go. Besides, what could she say but that, of course, they were right. “But I am trying very, very hard to fix that problem,” Sam said, knowing that her weakness was glaring and here she was trying to explain her problem to a nine-year-old, which at this age, she had no business hearing.

Sam went on. “But until I do get beyond this problem, you have to stay here with your grandmother. If I took you with me now, I’d get into a lot of trouble and then it would be even longer before you could come back to Denver.”

“Can’t I go and live with Howard and Nona at the ranch? They could take care of me, even if you can’t.”

Sam’s smile was sad. April was always a patient little girl, smart beyond her years. But how could Sam explain this? The reasons why that wasn’t possibl
e. “When I get better someday, sweetie, you can come to live with Nona and Howard and me at the ranch.”

April shrugged out of her mother’s embrace. Sam knew better than to try to hang on. She walked quietly to the bedroom door and put her hand on the knob. She t
urned and looked at her mother. Sam saw a storm brewing deep in April’s eyes, the blue turning to gray. “I hate you,” April said in a voice that was detached and devoid of emotion. “It’s your fault that Daddy’s gone too, that’s what Grandma Church told me. I hope I never see you again.”

Before she could open the door, Sam jumped off the bed, reached the door and put her hand over her daughter’s.
“April, please don’t do this to me. Please, please, know that I love you very much and that I am trying very, very hard. I want you with me more than I want anything else in this entire world.”

Sam was crying now, great heaving sobs. She stopped immediately when she heard a knock at the door.
“Is everything all right in there?” Esther asked, her voice sounded muffled on the other side of the door.

Sam cleared her throat. “Everything’s fine, Esther,” she said. “Just give us some time.”

She could hear Esther’s retreating footsteps. Sam bent down to be at eye level with April. She pushed a strand of April’s long hair from her eyes. April kept her attention fixed on the oversized suitcase. “Baby, listen to me, your Father got into trouble with some very bad people and that’s why he’s gone. Someday you will be old enough to know and then you’ll understand. I love you and I’m so sorry you have to be here and for everything you’re going through, but I am doing everything I can to make things right again and then I promise I will come back and bring you home. I promise with all of my heart.” For a long time silence filled the space between them. “Will you let me take you to school in the morning?”

April looked from the suitcase to her mother and back to the suitcase again, considering what she had said. “Are you leaving after that?” she asked.

“Yes, sweetie. Mommie has to go back to work and to some meetings so I can get better.”

April looked again from her mother to the oversized suitcase on the bed.

“I’ll take the bus,” she said matter-of-factly. “Grandma Church’ll take me.” April opened the door and left the bedroom, leaving Sam kneeling on the floor, watching her go.

Sam stayed in bed the next morning listening to Esther get April up and ready for school. She wanted nothing more than to see her daughter before she left for the airport, but she knew better than to try. From past experience, more than she wanted to remember, she knew that once she made April angry and upset, it was best just to let her have her own space to calm down. Eventually she came around. Sam feared there would come a day when she would not. Just as Howard had said to her in the car on the way to the airport.

She could hear April moving around in her bedroom and guessed she was getting dressed. Then she heard Esther’s footstep heading down the hallway toward the kitchen. That was followed by a few moments of silence while Esther opened the door to the doggie room, then the house boomed in a chorus of barking dogs. After a few minutes of uninterrupted barking, it quieted enough that Sam could hear April close her bedroom door and start down the hallway.

The last thing Sam heard before they closed the front door and headed for the bus was Esther’s voice. “Hurry,” she said. “And don’t forget your lunch. It’s sitting on the counter.”

Within minutes they had walked out of the house, leaving the silence behind like a forgotten item. Sam got out of bed and lifted the blinds enough to watch as Esther and April headed across the yard toward the bus. It was just now beginning to get light enough to see and the darkness between the trees had begun to disappear.

Esther did not reach for April’s hand, as Sam would have. She put the tips of her fingers against the glass, cold to the touch. She watched as April walked obediently beside Esther, paralyzed with pain that it was not her. “Oh, baby,” Sam whispered.

April wore a
navy jacket with a hood that lay evenly across her back, a pair of tan chinos and brown loafers. Sam did not recognize the jacket and guessed that Esther must have bought it for her. Her hair had been neatly pulled back into a single ponytail, which trailed in a long straight line down the center of her back. She carried a small forest-green backpack over her right shoulder. April gripped her satchel with her right hand while she carried her lunch in a brown paper bag in her left.

At least Sam knew what April would be having for lunch today. They had made her lunch together last night, the last thing they had done together before Sam started to pack and April thought she was going with her. They had made her favorite sandwich, peanut butter and jelly (grape) and a slice of provolone cheese. There were carrot sticks wrapped in plastic wrap, an apple, two Oreo cookies and a cherry fruit rollup. Sam gave April five dollars to buy a carton of chocolate milk, one for each day of the week, “’cause it cost
s extra,” April had told her.

She had loved every minute being with April in those fleeting evening moments, smiling to herself now at the thought of them making lunch together. It was her happiest moment of the weekend. April chatted away the entire time Sam made her sandwich and wrapped the carrots and cookies. She talked about a science project she had started in class last week and a spelling test that she had taken last Friday, something she hadn’t looked forward to. But April told her mother she thought she had scored one hundred percent. Sam told April how proud she was of her.

“And Mommie, guess what,” April said, tugging on the sleeve of Sam’s sweat top.

“What, sweetie?” Sam said, looking down at her daughter as she licked the remains of peanut butter off her finger.

“I made a new friend,” April said.

“
That’s great, sweetie, I’m so happy for you!” Sam said. “What’s her name?” Sam finished making the sandwich and showed April its toppings. “That enough peanut butter?”

April nodded and said, “Her name’s Laurie and she’s been really nice to me. All the other girls were ignoring me, but not Laurie. She’s new at school, too. Her dad’s in the Navy a
nd they just came here from San…” April’s voice trailed off as she tried to remember the name of the city where her new friend had lived. Sam finished her sentence for her.

“San Diego?”

April nodded and went on, “She’s only been new in school a week longer than me. The first day I saw her in class, she gave me some candy and then we started sitting together at lunch and now we play together at recess.”

“Does she sit by you in class?” Sam asked, as happy that April had made a new friend as she was.

“In the next row over,” had been April’s reply.

Sam watched Esther and April walk to the edge of the yard and the memory of them standing in the kitchen making sandwiches stayed with her. They disappeared around a thicket of trees. She half expected, half hoped April would realize she hadn’t said good-bye to her mother before she left and would come running back and give her a hug. Sam waited, but she knew April would not come back.

The last image she had of April was of her skipping slightly as they started to make the turn toward the gravel road, happy, perhaps that soon she would see her new friend, Laurie. Then they disappeared. Sam looked in the direction she last saw April until she became aware of the sound of a dull roar from a jet engine high overhead. She listened until the engines faded off into the distance, keeping her eyes where she last saw her daughter.

Tears came to her eyes. She blinked several times and they started to fall. She left the window, sat on the edge of
her unmade bed, and cried. Tears were one thing she seemed to have in abundance. She shrugged her shoulders, tossed her head back and ran her hands through her hair several times in an effort to collect herself. She pulled on a pair of sweats and headed for the kitchen.

Esther did not drink coffee, so Sam made her own. She listened to the last long sighs from the pot as it finished brewing and through the slits of glass along the sides of the front door saw Esther step into the yard. The dogs outside were barking again. As Esther opened the front door, the dogs were scrambling in through the doggie door, practically on top of each other to be the first one to get to her.

Sam had poured herself a cup of coffee and stood with her back against the sink as she watched Esther greet each of the dogs. She hadn’t made it any further than the front door. The morning sun had just entered the kitchen window over the sink, spilling a generous amount of light into the room. The rays felt good on Sam’s back, warming against the slight chill she could feel in the house.

Once the salutations were finished, Esther walked from the foyer into the kitchen. She stopped at the island in the middle of the kitchen and placed both hands on top of the white-tiled counter. She looked at Sam. It was a stern look as though she was about to scold her. Sam tilted her head slightly to one side. Her eyes narrowed in Esther’s direction. She hunkered down inside.
“What the hell happened last night?” Esther asked.

Sam brought her coffee cup to her mouth and sipped slowly. She looked at Esther over her coffee cup, through rising steam and considered what she should tell her. “We had a misunderstanding,” Sam said and took another sip of coffee.

Esther snorted. “Samantha, your whole life has been a misunderstanding.”

Sam felt herself hunker down a little more.

“I’d hardly call it a misunderstanding,” Esther went on. “You led that poor child to believe that you were going to take her home with you today. She just turned nine…”

“Esther,” Sam said.

Esther wouldn’t let her continue. “What did you think she’d think? That all of a sudden Mommie is all better now and she has come to take her home?”

“I never had any such intention, Esther,” Sam said ignoring Esther’s tone of voice, which had a singsong quality. “That’s not what happened and you have no idea what you’re talking about.” Sam’s voice dripped with coldness, but she didn’t care.

“The thing is, Samantha, you’re never going to get better,” Esther said and glared at her. The moment was brief, but long enough to remind Sam that Esther had always loathed her. Fine with her, the feeling was mutual. Esther went on. “You’ve been this way since you met Jonathan. I know how you are. I know how many useless attempts you’ve already made to stop drinking and get your life together. And you’ve failed at every single one of them. Utterly failed. Some people can walk away from it, Sam, but you’re not going to be one of them. It’s going to follow you like your shadow for the rest of your life.”

Esther turned on her heels and started for her bedroom. She spoke to Sam over her shoulder as she retreated toward the back of the house, “You took my son away from me and if you think I am going to let you take
my granddaughter away too...”

Esther didn’t finish her sentence. Sam set her coffee cup on the counter and pushed herself away from the sink. She followed Esther toward her bedroom, leaving the dogs panting at the gate watching the two of them retreat into an area where they weren’t allowed.

By the time Sam reached Esther’s bedroom, she had already started to make her bed, a king size bed, that took up the entire center of the room. There was a chandelier over the bed that Esther had turned to a low setting. It cast a dull light over the room. The sun was coming in the opaque shades that covered the windows, but they were still drawn.

Sam stopped at the door, and folded her arms tightly across her chest. Esther was moving around the bed in a huff as she smoothed out the bed covers. She was taking deep breaths as if she were exerting great effort making the bed.
“Esther, what Jonathan did, he did on his own,” Sam said speaking in controlled, even tones, low enough just to be heard. “You know as well as I do being married to a cop for as many years as you were, that there’s a very fine line between right and wrong. Jonathan crossed that line, thinking his badge allowed him to go above the law. It was a complete shock to me when I finally learned everything, just as I’m sure it was to you.”

Esther smacked the pillows hard with her hand to fluff them and Sam couldn’t help wondering if Esther was thinking of her each time she whacked the pillow.
“He wouldn’t have done it, if it hadn’t of been for you, Samantha. What he ever saw in you…” Esther’s voice trailed off as she tossed the pillow against the headboard and fluffed it again. “You were the one that made him cross that line. He just wanted to get married and raise a family.”

Sam entered the room and crossed over to the dresser. It was made of thick heavy wood in a dark brown, with a mirror that took up the entire length. Sam caught sight of herself as she crossed in front of the mirror. Picasso’s f
ragmented images came to mind; too many pieces to see the whole. She turned her back to the mirror and leaned slightly against the dresser. Esther picked up the other pillow, fluffed it and tossed it next to the other one. “You were the one who couldn’t fulfill her obligations as a mother to April or as a good wife to my son. If you would’ve been a stronger woman, Samantha, and not so damned selfish and self centered, constantly thinking, ‘why is this happening to me and why won’t someone help me, why, why, why,’ none of this would’ve happened.”

Esther had worked herself into such a frenzy that by the time she had finished making the bed she was huffing and puffing and there were tiny beads of sweat on her brow. She wiped her forehead with the tips of her finger and brushed them along the sides of her pant leg.
Esther walked to the dresser, but avoided looking at herself in the mirror. Sam turned to face her. The women’s eyes locked. Esther’s complexion was ruddy from the exertion of making the bed. Sam was clenching her jaw and she could feel her muscles tighten. She wanted to defend herself against Esther. But what was the point? She knew Esther to be the kind of person who, once her mind was made up about a person, there was little one could do or say to change her opinion. Without a word Esther opened a small jewelry box on the top of her dresser and directed her attention to the box. She fished for a moment before pulling out a gold ring. In those first fleeing moments Sam did not recognize the ring. Esther held it up between two fingers in the mirror before them. Then Sam recognized it.

“Where … where’d you get … that ring, Esther? Tha … that’s Jonathan’s.” Sam didn’t want to stammer, but she couldn’t help it.

“April brought it with her when she came, her daddy made her put it in her pocket,” Esther said. “And there’s a letter he wrote, too...” Esther let the thought trail, punctuated by a nearly imperceptible smile. She studied Sam’s reaction in the mirror. Sam stopped clenching her jaw. Her eyes remained fixed on the smooth band of gold in the mirror before her.

“I’d like to have that back, Esther.”

“It no longer belongs to you,” Esther said matter of factly. “Don’t you think if Jonathan wanted you to have it, he would’ve given it to you?”

It was a rhetorical question, but Sam felt compelled to answer. “We bought those rings together.”

“Jonathan wanted me to have it,” Esther said.

“What did April say when she gave it to you?”

“She said ‘Daddy wanted you to have this.’”

Sam nodded, not knowing whether to believe Esther’s story. She had a long history of mixing truth and lies whenever or however the situation suited her. Esther watched Sam turn
away from the mirror and walk
in silence toward the door. She stopped at the threshold, turned and looked over her shoulder at Esther. She could see her reflection in the mirror, the ring still poised in mid air.