Day by Day (27 page)

“And a recovering drug addict,” Judy argued. “Right now, she’s doing very well, and I’m proud of her. But everything could change and she could go back to using drugs in less time than it takes to change a lightbulb. If she’s using drugs again, she’ll lie, cheat and steal to get the money she needs for the drugs. She’s stolen from me in the past, and she’d steal from you. I don’t want anything to interfere with our friendship.”

“Me, either, so let’s get that out of the way. Ann is obviously comfortable taking the risk, isn’t she?”

“Yes, but—”

“Look, if I do decide to go ahead and work with Candy,
I’d have John check and double-check everything Candy sets up, and he’ll audit the business for me, of course. If that makes you uncomfortable or if you’ll worry about it every day, then I won’t even consider working with Candy. I’ll just hire someone else.”

Judy sighed. “I’d hate to have Candy miss out on an opportunity because I’m so paranoid, but—”

“Then she won’t, assuming I actually decide to take the plunge into the cyberworld. Maybe you should think about getting a Web page for the salon once you own it. I’m sure Candy would help you, too,” she suggested.

“Me? You want me to get a Web page? I can barely handle the computer as it is. I’d be better off looking for a pearl in a clam shell,” Judy retorted, “and since I don’t like to eat clams any more than I like computers, I think I’ll pass and concentrate on praying for something a little more likely to happen and a whole lot more important.”

“Which would be…”

Judy smiled. “Having Candy come home tonight and telling me she got the job.”

When John came home for dinner that night, he told Barbara that the call they had been anxious to get for the past six months had come late that afternoon, and immediately unplugged the telephones in the house.

With the twins at home, Barbara had no opportunity to discuss the call from Detective Sanger that John had gotten just before leaving work in any detail. The minutes dragged as they followed their usual school-night routine, although this night would be far from ordinary. Tonight, Barbara hoped to learn exactly who had been arrested for killing their son.

She managed to get through dinner, although the little bit she had eaten seemed to be lodged painfully behind her breastbone, making it difficult to breathe. While she cleared the leftovers from the table, John helped the twins load the dishwasher. He settled the little girls around the dining room table to start their homework while Barbara packed lunches for school and finished cleaning up the kitchen.

As she wiped down the countertop, she heard the twins chatting in the next room. Both Jessie and Melanie loved to recount their daily classroom experiences, and their animated voices helped to assuage Barbara’s anxiety about facing whatever news John would share with her after the girls had gone to bed.

Hearing their voices as they were gathered around the dining room table, however, reminded her that it had only been a short while ago when she and John had been at that table, exploring opportunities for sailing their way through retirement. The maps and brochures had been put away along with their dreams, but so much more had changed in their lives over the past six months.

Steve was Home, sharing in the glory of eternal life, but his passing had left a wound in her heart that would not be fully healed until the day she and her son were reunited in heaven. Jessie and Melanie were the center of Barbara’s and John’s lives now. Loving them, caring for them and watching them grow up was a blessing that Barbara was willing to share now with the girls’ other grandparents, people whose lives were forever linked with their family.

She wiped the kitchen table and put on a fresh tablecloth while she thought about Grandmother’s Kitchen, the shop she had enjoyed so much that was now nothing but
a memory. She intended to follow up on the idea of creating an online store, but any plans she might make hinged on the news from Detective Sanger. Had the police made an arrest? If so, who would be charged? Would Barbara and John finally know the circumstances that had led to Steve’s death? Would justice be done or would the system be manipulated to favor the defendants instead of the victim and his family?

Before she got twisted up in a whirlwind of questions that could not be answered, she smoothed the wrinkles from the tablecloth and decided to help with the homework. When she got to the dining room, the girls had already packed up. “Finished already?”

“I helped Mel with her math,” Jessie announced proudly.

Melanie pouted. “I don’t like math.”

“Neither did I,” Barbara confessed. “Let’s go, ladies. Bath time.”

Without further prompting, the girls raced for the stairs, and John laughed out loud. “For the life of me, I can’t ever remember the boys being so willing to take a bath.”

“You’re right. It must be a girl thing,” Barbara conceded.

“Shall I have the girls come back down for a good-night kiss?” she asked, hoping he might offer to handle the bedtime routine as he used to do with the boys.

“Sure. I’ll check my messages and sort through today’s mail while the girls take their baths.”

Disappointed, she helped the girls through bath time and had them ready for bed, as usual, by eight o’clock. “Go on. Run downstairs to kiss Pappy good-night, then we’ll—”

John poked his head into the bedroom. “Who’s ready for prayers and a good-night kiss?”

“Me!”

“Me!”

Barbara caught his gaze and held it as he entered the girls’ bedroom, and her heart swelled with joy.

“I was thinking I should say prayers with you and Grammy before you go to bed at night,” he said. When he knelt down at the side of Melanie’s bed, the girls knelt down beside him, one on each side.

Barbara knelt down on the opposite side of the bed to keep all three of them in view.

John led their granddaughters in prayer. “Heavenly Father, we thank You for all the blessings we have received today, and we pray You will forgive us all if we have not followed Your Word the way we should have. Help us to be kind and loving, and help us to be patient.”

“Amen,” the girls whispered in unison with their grandparents and finished the first round of prayers before adding individual prayer requests.

“God bless Jessie and Melanie,” he whispered.

“God bless Grammy and Pappy,” Jessie added before she craned her neck and motioned for Melanie to take her turn.

“God bless Grandmom and Grandpop Carr and the baby pigs at the farm,” Melanie offered with a shy smile.

Barbara suppressed a grin. “God bless us all.”

“God bless Miss Addison,” Jessie said with a smile of her own.

Not to be outdone, Melanie offered another request of her own. “God bless our Daddy and tell him I miss him.”

“Tell him I miss him, too,” Jessie said quickly before scrambling across Melanie’s bed into her own.

Moved almost to tears, Barbara tucked Jessie into bed
while John did the same for Melanie. After a round of good-night kisses, she went downstairs with John, and she was still glowing from the experience they had just shared together for the first time since Steve’s death. She followed her husband into the family room, less anxious than she had been earlier, but still curious to hear what news Detective Sanger had given John earlier.

John stood in front of the fireplace and faced her as she stood behind a wing chair and held on to the back for support. “Detective Sanger called to tell me they made an arrest late this afternoon,” he murmured. “She wouldn’t tell me much over the telephone, but she said that the media would probably run with the story tonight on the evening news.”

Her spine tingled. “I’m sure they did,” she quipped, uncertain if she was any more prepared for the media frenzy that had already been unleashed than she was for the emotional roller coaster she was about to ride. “Did she say who had been arrested? Or when we could expect the trial to begin?”

“No, she was pretty busy. She asked if she could talk to us first thing tomorrow morning.”

Barbara sighed and prayed for patience. “When and where?”

“She said she could meet us at my office since the media is less likely to look for us there. Unless you’d rather go back to Philadelphia and meet at police headquarters.”

“No. Your office is fine. She didn’t tell you anything else?”

He shook his head. “With all the commotion in the background, I could barely hear her as it was. I figured if we waited this long, one more night wouldn’t matter
much.” When she sighed again, he nodded toward the television set. “We could watch the news.”

She closed her eyes for a moment. “No. I think I’d rather wait to hear what the detective has to say.”

“Me, too. Scared?”

“A little.”

He opened his arms, offering comfort. “Me, too,” he whispered.

When she stepped around the chair and moved into his embrace, he held her close.

S
ome things never change. Candy was late. Not even a telephone call to explain why she was delayed or when she would be home.

For Judy, watching the hands on the kitchen clock was nothing new. Becoming more and more disappointed, instead of angrier with each passing hour, was very new—but experience, like age, it seemed, had its advantages.

At six-thirty, she and Brian ate dinner. Judy washed the dishes. He dried them. She put them away.

By seven-thirty, he had finished his homework and taken a bath.

At eight o’clock, after he said his prayers, she tucked him into bed.

His head had no sooner hit the pillow, when he sat right back up again. “I forgot something!” he exclaimed and scrambled out of bed. He sorted through the clothes in the
hamper next to his closet door, found the blue jeans he had worn to school that day and rifled through the pockets. He smiled when he found what he had been looking for. He handed her a paper that had been folded and crumpled into a thick wad. “Miss Addison said I hadda have this back tomorrow.”

She carefully unfolded the paper. “Why didn’t you have this in your backpack?”

He shrugged. “Can you sign it for me, Grandmom? If I have it back tomorrow, I get a sticker.”

She nodded as she scanned the wrinkled message, a list of directives concerning the Valentine’s Day celebration in school, along with a roster of the names of everyone in the first grade class, which ensured that no child would be slighted. Judy’s signature on the bottom would mean she had read and understood the guidelines. She took a pencil out of Brian’s backpack, signed the lower portion, tore it off and stored both the pencil and the signed paper in the outside pouch of his backpack before she put the top section into her own pocket.

“All set. I guess this means we have to make some Valentines soon. But not tonight,” she said and pointed to his bed.

He leaped back into bed, crawled under the covers and drew them up to his chin. “My mom helped me make Valentines once. Is she coming home soon?”

Judy smiled in spite of her disappointment. “She had a very important interview for a job today. Maybe it just took longer than she thought it would, but you need to get to sleep now because you have to get up early for school tomorrow.”

He snuggled against his pillow. “Tell my mom about the Valentines, okay?”

She kissed his forehead. “You can tell her at breakfast. Sleep tight.”

She left his door open in case he called out while she was downstairs and slowly descended the steps. Why Candy had not been home at six as she had promised and why she had not called was almost irrelevant now, compared to knowing where she was and when or even if she might be coming home. Candy had only been home for a week—long enough to inspire hope, but briefly enough to suggest her recent effort to maintain her recovery would fare no better than her previous attempts.

The heavy weight of déjà vu threatened to push Judy back into the past, full of old fears, disappointments and anger that could all be so easily reawakened by present circumstances. When she got to the bottom of the steps, she crossed the living room and went out to the front porch without bothering to put on a coat. She stood at the front railing and drew in a huge gulp of frigid air that chilled the burning desire to scream in frustration.

One week. Is that all it had taken for the bubble to burst and for Candy to have relapsed? What a cruel possibility. Judy lifted her face to the dark sky. Clouds hid the stars and kept a pale sliver of moon from providing more than a blush of light as she whispered a pleading prayer that He would keep her daughter safe tonight.

Shivering, she went back into the house. When she closed the door behind her, she automatically threw the bolt and latched the security chain. She was tempted to leave them in place, to force Candy to knock when she
wanted to come into the house; instead, she undid the bolt and chain and went to the kitchen to pack Brian’s lunch for school tomorrow.

When Judy went to bed at eleven, she would set the bolt and chain back into place. If Candy was home by then, fine. If not, then Candy would get a very strong message when she tried to let herself in with her key. If Candy had not come home by morning…

She pushed that thought away because, frankly, she did not know what she would do or how she would explain Candy’s absence to Brian and concentrated on making Brian’s lunch. She lined three small plastic sandwich bags on the counter. After smearing chunky peanut butter and grape jelly on bread, she cut the sandwich into quarters and stored them inside the first bag. She peeled an orange, separated the sections and slipped them into the second bag before she emptied some yogurt-covered raisins into the last one then she put all three bags into the refrigerator.

After wiping down the counter, she took out the trash, remembered it was trash night and dragged the metal can to the curb behind the garage rather than trying to lug it all the way out front. By the time she got back to the kitchen door, her teeth were chattering and she was stiff with cold. She hurried inside, only to find her daughter standing at the sink filling the teakettle. She was still wearing the winter coat she had borrowed from Judy that morning.

Candy looked up and frowned. “It’s cold out there. You should be wearing a coat. Where were you?”

Judy’s temper was temporarily frozen, along with her
hands. “Taking out the trash. Funny. I was just about to ask you the same thing. You told me you’d be home at six,” she snapped and glanced at the clock while she rubbed her hands together to warm them. “It’s quarter to nine.”

“Is Brian asleep?”

Judy frowned. “His bedtime is eight. Of course, he’s asleep,” she managed.

“I’m sorry, Mom. I would have called—”

“You should have called. Period.”

Without answering, Candy turned, set the teakettle on the stove and adjusted the flame on the burner. When she turned back, Judy saw that her daughter’s cheeks were chafed and her nose was almost scarlet, as if she had been out in the elements for way too long. “Look, Mom. I don’t want to fight. Can we please sit down and talk this out? Calmly?”

Feeling inappropriately chastised, Judy held her temper, which had thawed sufficiently, and her tongue, resisting reminding Candy who was at fault here. “Calmly?” she repeated. “Sure. But no lies. The truth is all I want to hear.”

Without removing her coat, Candy sat down first and shoved her hands into the coat pockets.

Judy took a seat across from her. “Go ahead. I’m listening.”

“It’s not my fault that I’m late,” Candy began.

The weight of déjà vu got a little heavier, but Judy kept her shoulders back and tried to keep an open mind.

“I got out of the interview and back to the train station by five-thirty. I got through the turnstiles, but I couldn’t get near the loading platform. There were police and paramedics everywhere. Apparently someone had fallen off the
platform onto the tracks. At least, that’s what I heard. So I figured I’d go back up to the street and walk to the next stop, but the stupid machine took my ticket, and I didn’t have enough money left to buy another one.”

Candy’s tale sounded plausible enough, if indeed someone had fallen off the platform, but Candy always had such a flair for concocting dramatic excuses that Judy was not sure if her tale was true or not. She held silent and nodded for Candy to continue. When she did not, Judy finally asked, “Why didn’t you call me?”

Candy rolled her eyes. “Have you tried to find a pay phone lately? Half of them are disconnected and the other half are vandalized. At least, the few I found had been destroyed. The first thing I’m going to buy with my first paycheck is cell phones for both of us.”

“If you didn’t have enough money for another ticket and you couldn’t find a pay phone to call me or anyone else, how did you get home?”

“I had just enough to take a bus across the river. Then I walked.”

Judy gasped. “It’s not even twenty degrees outside. You walked? At this hour? It isn’t safe.”

“Next time I’ll take a cab and ask the driver to wait while I run inside to get money from you to pay for the ride. You’ve got an extra twenty or thirty dollars lying around, right?”

Judy was shaken by the idea her daughter had traipsed home in the dark through rough neighborhoods along dangerous highways and all the while, she’d been picturing Candy taking up her drug habit again. “Don’t be flip. I’d rather pay for a cab than a funeral,” Judy snapped.

Candy flinched, then studied her mother closely. “You…you thought I was out doing drugs again, didn’t you? Is that why you look so terrified and so guilty, all at the same time?”

Judy’s cheeks flamed. “I wish I could say the idea hadn’t occurred to me, but yes. I was worried you somehow had been disappointed by the interview—”

“And decided to feel better by getting high?”

Judy nodded, remembering her vow to be honest, whatever the cost.

With a sigh, Candy sat back in her chair. “I guess I can’t blame you for that. If our situations were reversed, I’d probably have thought the same thing. It’s not like it hasn’t happened before, right?”

“This isn’t going to be easy, is it?” Judy asked.

“What? Living together?”

“Yes, living together. Learning to trust you. Helping you, but not…enabling you,” she said, recalling the phrase she had learned previously, dealing with Candy’s addiction.

“You’re helping me a lot, Mom. I know that, but we can’t worry about every little thing we say or do. We just have to be honest with each other and take one day at a time. If something I do bothers you, you have to tell me so we can talk about it, and I’ll do the same.”

“I didn’t want to think the worst tonight, but I did,” Judy admitted. “I was scared, and when you told me you’d walked all the way home, I didn’t know what scared me more. Losing you to drugs again or losing you forever to some mugger or to a freak accident because your wallet was almost empty.”

Candy patted Judy’s hand. “You’re not going to lose me
because
I’m
not going to lose me, all right? And if I feel like I’m starting to slide, I’ll tell you and I’ll do something about it.”

The teakettle whistled, and Candy got up from the table. Without asking, she poured boiling water into two mugs, added tea bags and put the mugs on the table. Judy watched as Candy set out the milk and sugar before she sat down again. “Aren’t you going to take off your coat?”

Candy wrapped her hands around her steaming mug. “Not until I drink this. I think my bones are frozen.”

“You’re lucky if your toes aren’t frostbitten.”

Candy chuckled and wrinkled her nose. “I could probably manage without a toe or two, but I think I’d look pretty funny without my nose. I kept switching hands, trying to keep my nose from freezing and falling off my face.”

“Very funny,” Judy murmured. “I’m not sure how we’ll swing it, but tomorrow I want you to look into getting some cell phones for us. As long as there’s no deposit—”

“I told you, Mom. I’m getting the cell phones for us with my first paycheck.”

“Right. Except your first paycheck, which Ann will be giving you Friday, won’t be enough. Besides, you need to start getting some warmer clothes, remember? Welleswood isn’t San Diego.”

Candy shivered and took a sip of tea. “You don’t have to remind me, but I wasn’t talking about my paycheck from the salon. I meant the paycheck I’ll be getting two weeks from Friday for my new job, assuming you can do without me at the salon.”

“Do without you? Why…?”

“I had an interview today, Mom. Remember?”

“Y-you got the job?”

“I got the job!” Grinning, she tapped her own shoulder.

“You are now looking at the newly employed Candy Martin, who will be reporting to work next Monday as the assistant to the assistant producer for the soon-to-be launched cable news show,
All Around Town.
”