The Mill River Redemption (35 page)

Emily felt an arm slide around her waist, and she turned to see her own mother standing beside her. Ivy came up on her other side, but neither said anything as they waited for Andy’s mother to speak.

“They gave us … his personal things,” she told them as she looked at the bag and choked back a sob. “His wallet and keys and such. This was in his coat pocket … the reason he was coming to surprise you. We think you should have it. Andy would have wanted you to have it.”

Melissa pressed the box into her hand.

Emily looked down, afraid to lift the lid and already suspecting what it contained, but Andy’s parents were still standing before her, waiting. She grasped the top of the box and gently pried it open. Before new tears completely obscured her vision, she caught a glimpse of a stunning diamond engagement ring shining against the velvet.

E
MILY STOOD ON THE SECOND-FLOOR LANDING, WATCHING AS
Rose leaned on their mother’s arm as they made their way slowly up the stairs. It had been two weeks since the accident and a week since she’d traveled to Rhode Island for Andy’s funeral, and now her sister had finally been discharged from the hospital.

Rose walked with halting steps into the bedroom they’d once shared and exhaled as she lowered herself onto her old bed. There was a cast on her left arm and a healing gash that ran from her eyebrow down the left side of her face. She looked thin and pale, and she still couldn’t stand, sit, or lie down without wincing.

“Do you want anything to eat?” Josie asked. “I could make you a sandwich or some soup.”

“No, nothing right now, Mom,” Rose said. “I just want to rest.”

“How about a soda or just some ice water? You need to keep your fluid levels up,” Josie said.

Rose sighed. “Fine, you could bring me a Coke.”

“Good. I’ll be right back,” she said. “Em, why don’t you help her get changed into something more comfortable?”

“Sure, Mom,” Emily said. As Rose reclined against a wall of pillows their mother had arranged on the bed, Emily went to Rose’s suitcase and unzipped it.

“There should be a clean set of pajamas in there, gray, with pink flowers,” Rose said with her eyes closed.

Emily spotted the pajamas folded under a few other pieces of clothing. As she pulled them out, she saw a small glass bottle protruding from the clothes stacked beneath the pajamas, and she removed it as well.

“What’s this?” Emily asked, holding up the half-empty bottle of rum.

As Rose ignored her question and lay against the pillows, Emily couldn’t help but remember the image of Andy’s body resting in his satin-lined coffin. It was the thing about going to his funeral that she had dreaded most—although the shock of being introduced to other mourners by Andy’s parents as his fiancée had been equally difficult—because she knew it would be her last time seeing him. That memory would be seared into her mind forever.

The funeral home staff had managed to make him look presentable, but there had still been subtle clues to the massive head trauma Andy had suffered during the crash. His hair hadn’t quite looked right, as it had been styled to hide the swelling. And, the pancake makeup on his face had been applied in a thick layer, no doubt to hide bruising. Being restrained by his seat belt hadn’t protected Andy when the car had rolled and crushed the roof.

For days while Rose had been in the hospital, she had drifted through the hours, crying, sleeping when she could, waking suddenly from nightmares and unrelenting anxiety. It hadn’t helped to hear her sister’s semiconscious vocalizations, most of which alternated between screams of “No! No!” and pleas for forgiveness. When her condition had stabilized, Rose had explained to all of them what had happened, or at least, what she claimed to remember, but Emily was still left with a desperate craving to know more about Andy’s last moments on earth.

She also had one question in particular for her sister. It was a question that she had asked herself and dreaded asking her sister, a question to which she knew the answer even as she tried to convince herself that she was wrong. She’d been hesitant to have any sort of lengthy conversation with Rose while she’d been in the hospital, but now that Rose was home and on the mend, she had time and opportunity.

“Rose?” Emily asked. She sat down on the edge of Rose’s bed, and her sister opened her eyes and looked at her. “I know you told us what happened earlier, but … I’m having a really hard time.” Emily’s voice became raspy with emotion. “Is there anything else, about the accident … or Andy …?”

Rose sighed. “I told you everything,” she said. “We stopped at Hawley’s before leaving Rutland, and we were on 103 heading down to Mill River. We were just making small talk. I didn’t really know him that well, you know, but he was super-excited about
what he had planned. A deer ran out in front us, and it was there before I could slow down or anything. I swerved to try to avoid hitting it, and the last thing I remember was the car going over the guardrail.” Rose’s voice was trembling as she finished the summary. “Em, I don’t know what else to say. I’m so sorry. So sorry.” She was crying now, and her gaze shifted to the rum bottle that Emily still held in her hands.

Emily squinted at Rose through her own tears. “I need to ask you something else, and I need you to tell me the truth,” Emily said. “You were taking a nap that day, before Mom asked you to go get Andy. Had you been drinking?”

“
No
, I wasn’t driving drunk that day. They tested my blood alcohol level in the hospital, you know. It was perfectly normal.”

“Alcohol clears from the bloodstream over time. You weren’t found right away, not for a couple hours after you left here. What I asked you was whether you’d been drinking before you left the house.”

Rose opened her mouth and closed it, and Emily cut her off before she could utter the lie that her expression foretold.

“Do you realize that if you’d been sober, you might have handled the car differently, maybe kept control of it, and that Andy might still be here with me?” Emily wrapped her arms around herself. She could feel her emotions slipping and spiraling out of control.

“My blood alcohol was
normal
,” Rose argued. “It’s proof that I was
fine
to drive. It was just a fucking horrible accident, all right?”

Emily put her hands on her forehead and slid them up over her hair. “You’re lying. To
me
, your
sister
. Can’t you even tell
me
the truth? God, I don’t know how I didn’t see it before, what you really are,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ve always been there for you, always. Covered for you while you were out running wild, read your sorry letters, listened to you slobber on the phone, and tried
to support you while you made one stupid decision after the next. Would you have done the same for me? I can’t imagine it. And now, you don’t even have the decency to admit what really happened. I’m the one you’re supposed to be closer to than anyone, but you can’t even be honest with me.” She wiped her eyes. “Do you remember what you told me that day you left home? I do. You said that even though we’d be living apart, nothing would come between us. Well, you know what? That was complete bullshit.” Sobbing, she threw the half-empty rum bottle against the wall.

“Em—” Rose said, but Emily kept going.

“How many more are there?” Emily returned to the suitcase and began throwing clothes out onto the floor. She found two more bottles of liquor and held them out toward her sister.

“You have a drinking problem, Rose. You do, don’t try to deny it. I know, even though you’re good at hiding it.”

“I
don’t
have a drinking problem.” Her voice was defensive, haughty. “Sure, I have a few drinks now and then to take the edge off, but that’s no big deal. I’m a bartender, for God’s sake. I know exactly what people with real drinking problems are like.”

“Do you see these?” Emily screamed at Rose. She thrust the liquor bottles in her sister’s face. “Do you see? Because of these,
you killed somebody
.” Then, with all her strength, Emily hurled the bottles just as she had the first.

Rose flinched as the glass shattered and the whiskey they had contained began to form dark rivulets down the ivory-colored wall, but she didn’t speak. Emily was shaking so violently that she could barely get her words out.

“Have you ever loved anybody more than yourself? Anybody at all?
I
have. Mom, and Aunt Ivy, and you. And
Andy
.” Her voice broke as she said his name. “He was the most wonderful thing that ever happened to me. I’ve never loved anyone like that before, and I know he felt the same about me. He was my future. And you
took his life and mine in your hands and threw them away, just like you do your empty booze bottles. You know something, Rose? It should’ve been
you
that died in that car. It should’ve been you, and I wish now that it had been. So, you can just go to hell. It’s where you belong.”

Emily lunged for the door. Her mother was midway up the stairs when she rushed past.

“Emily? I heard glass breaking. What’s going on? Where are you going?”

“To get some air. And I’m going back up to school tonight, if Ivy’ll drive me.”

“What? Why do you want to leave? Is your sister all right?”

“Ask her yourself,” Emily said. “But she’s not my sister anymore.”

C
LAUDIA WAS DRESSED AND READY TO LEAVE HER HOUSE
when her phone rang.

Her bubble bath the night before, followed by a good night’s sleep and an intense run on the treadmill, had done wonders. She felt buoyant and energetic, and her mood was boosted even further by the sound of Kyle’s voice on the phone.

“Hey, beautiful, are you feeling any better than you were last night?”

“Yeah, I am,” she said, smiling into the receiver. “I felt fine when I woke up this morning, and I was just heading out for a bit. I thought I’d grab some coffee at Ruth’s and then head into Rutland to see if I could find a few new things to wear for work. The summer clothes are going on clearance.”

“Sounds like fun,” he said. “Well, as fun as shopping can be, I guess. Better than sitting in an office or a patrol car.”

“True,” she said. “I’ll give you a call this evening, okay?”

“Okay,” he said. “Love you.”

“Love you, too,” she said as she smiled again. “Bye.”

She walked out the door, but it felt more like she was floating on cloud nine.

W
ITH HER LITTLE GRAY DOG WATCHING FROM HIS USUAL POSITION
on a kitchen chair, Daisy Delaine put the final touches on a gift
basket of produce and sweets. Vegetables from her garden, chocolate chip cookies made from scratch, and homemade strawberry preserves were nestled in the basket’s cloth lining.

“How does it look, Smudgie?” she asked the little dog as she positioned the items in the basket. “Won’t Miss Rose be surprised by our basket? The veggies are perfect and the cookies are oh-so-delicious, even if I do say so myself!” Smudgie barked and wagged his tail.

The two unpleasant encounters she’d had with Miss Rose might have deterred others from any further attempts at smoothing things over, but Daisy had decided to try one last time. She ripped a blank page from an old notebook and scribbled a simple apology. Then, she folded the note and tucked it into the center of the basket between two large tomatoes.

“We can only do our best, can’t we, Smudgie? That’s what Father O’Brien always says.” Daisy picked up the little dog and hugged him close. “I hope Miss Rose believes me. I really am so sorry,” she whispered in his ear.

C
ARRYING A WRAPPED PACKAGE IDENTICAL TO THE ONE HE HAD
given Emily, Father O’Brien found himself walking more and more slowly as he approached Rose DiSanti’s house. True, he wasn’t looking forward to the conversation he was about to attempt, but he slowed his gait more because he was contemplating exactly how he should explain the reason for his unexpected visit. As he neared the corner and the side of her house came into view, he decided that the best approach would be his usual one—simple, gentle, and straightforward, with unflinching honesty.

The door opened quickly after he knocked, but he was surprised to be greeted by Alex.

“Hi, Father,” the boy said.

“Good morning, Alex. Is your mother home? I wondered if I might visit with her for a few minutes.”

“Who is it, Alex?” Rose’s voice called from inside the house, and before the child could answer, Father O’Brien heard footsteps and the door opened wider.

“Oh, hello, Father,” Rose said. “What a surprise. I didn’t know you’d be coming by.”

“I realize that, and I apologize for not calling ahead,” he told her. “Ivy invited me for lunch today, but I’m running a few minutes early, so I thought I’d swing by to say hello while I was in the neighborhood.”

“Oh, well, come in, then,” she said, but it was obvious by the tone of her voice that she wasn’t thrilled to have company.

Alex looked up at him and then at his mother. “I’m going back up to my room, okay, Mom?”

Rose nodded, and Alex cleared out in a hurry.

“Please sit down,” Rose said, motioning to an armchair. “I just poured myself a Coke. Can I get you something to drink?”

“Thank you, no,” he said. Father O’Brien lowered himself carefully into the chair and placed the wrapped package on his lap. Rose sat down on the end of the couch farthest from him. He saw that she had a bruise around one of her eyes, and she noticed that he noticed.

“I tripped in the night and fell against my bed,” she said, touching her eye lightly.

“I wondered about that,” he admitted. “But, it’s good that it’s healing up.” He looked away from her and glanced around. There were stacks of boxes and extra pieces of furniture in the room, arranged in such a way as to leave paths where people could walk or reach those furnishings that were actually being used. It was, he imagined, almost like being inside an ant farm.

“So, how’ve things been at the church, Father?” Rose asked.
She took a sip of her drink, staring at him over the top of her glass.

“Fine, fine,” he said. “It’s still a small, friendly congregation. I sure do miss seeing your mother there, though, and you girls, too, even after all these years.”