House of Glass (11 page)

Chapter Fourteen

Once Teddy had pulled the heavy door open and run out into the freezing gray afternoon, he remembered that he didn’t have a coat, and wondered why Livvy would send him outside without it. She had never spoken to him the way she did in the bathroom, and he was trying to make sense of what was happening. Livvy said that he had to run fast, and he did, not even going slow on the steps the way mom always insisted, because there could be ice.

Halfway across the yard he heard Livvy scream, and he almost turned around. But she had said not to. She said no matter what happened, he had to go to the Sterns’ and to run as fast as he could and so that’s what he did.

Teddy ran on the edges of the lawns along the street, where the snow had melted and frozen again, leaving the dead grass stiff and crunchy under his feet. He had learned the hard way that running on the sidewalk in the winter, even when the snow had mostly melted, often ended up with a hard fall on the concrete. He pumped his fists and kept his eyes on the stop sign, pushing himself to go faster and faster, just like he did when they had races at Blue Devils summer camp.

When he got to the stop sign, Teddy looked back to see if Livvy was coming after him, but the street was empty. Nobody at all was outside, no moms or kids or the mailman or delivery guys. The front door of their house was closed, and Teddy wondered if Livvy or his dad had closed it—or if it had been the stranger called Ryan. Teddy didn’t like thinking of the strangers, whose presence in his house was yet another confusing and frightening thing. He was pretty sure his parents were afraid of the two men, something that struck him as astonishing—that they, especially his father, could be afraid of other grown-ups.

Teddy started running again, though not as fast, partly because he was breathing hard and partly because he was beginning to think that leaving had been a bad choice. Maybe Livvy made a mistake. His mom always took him to Mark Stern’s house, but she was gone on her errand.

Once, when his mom wasn’t feeling well, Mrs. Stern had come to pick him up, and she had even brought him a muffin. Teddy brightened at the memory. Maybe Mrs. Stern was on her way, and would see him and pull over in her red minivan and he could ride back with her and Mark. Mark had K’Nex, too, and they had built a tower last time that was very tall, and maybe this time they could make one that was even taller.

A car drove by, but it wasn’t Mrs. Stern, and Teddy kept going.

The cold was making him shiver. The tips of his fingers were getting achy and his nose was crusty. Wiping his nose on his sleeve only made it sore. Teddy looked in the windows of the houses he passed, wondering if other people had visitors like theirs, strangers who stayed overnight and used their things and used mad voices. Teddy had liked sleeping in the basement, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to sleep there again tonight. What he most wanted was for the strangers to leave, and to sleep in his own bed.

At the next corner, Teddy stood for a long time trying to remember which direction Mark’s house was. Nothing looked the same with snow. You couldn’t see anyone’s grass or flowers, and there were cars that still had snow on top of them even though it had been a long time since the snowstorm. After a while, Teddy decided to go left, partly because the sidewalk looked less icy in that direction and he especially didn’t want to fall down now because he had started to cry a little. If he fell, someone might think he was crying because of the fall, which wasn’t the case at all. Teddy was brave about things like falls. His mom said he was brave all the time, in fact.

He was only crying because Livvy had spoken to him in that way that frightened him, and because he was cold and because he wasn’t sure where the Sterns’ house was. And, maybe a little, because he was afraid the stranger named Ryan would be the one who would come find him and take him back.

When they came yesterday, Teddy had been looking for a Lego piece that went under the couch, part of his Imperial V-Wing Starfighter. When Livvy went to answer the knock at the front door, Teddy had had spotted the little red piece just beyond his reach and was straining to get his fingers around it, so he didn’t see the strangers until they had already come into the living room.

“Teddy,” Livvy had said, “get up from there.” He didn’t like abandoning the Lego piece, and he was planning to ask Livvy to push the couch over for him, when he saw the strangers’ legs on either side of Livvy’s. He stood up and looked the visitors over. One was old like his dad, and the other one was younger, with a smile that wasn’t friendly.

“Hey, kid,” the older one said. He had his hand behind Livvy’s back, and she didn’t seem very happy about it. In fact, she looked scared, so Teddy was scared, too, and his voice disappeared all the way inside him.

Livvy started to pick him up, but the older one said
“no.”
She put her hands on Teddy’s shoulders, squeezing too hard. Teddy waited for her to explain who the men were, but she didn’t.

“I’ll get him,” the old one said and then he picked Teddy up himself. His fingers felt hard and unfamiliar under Teddy’s arms, digging into his ribs, and Teddy wiggled to get down. The man just held on tighter and squeezed Teddy against his chest. It didn’t hurt until Teddy accidentally hit the man in the chin as he was trying to wriggle free. The man grabbed his arm and twisted it and said, “Cut that shit out.”

Teddy knew that grown-ups weren’t supposed to say “shit,” that they had to remind each other sometimes, but no one told the stranger not to talk that way in front of him. So that was also strange and worrisome.

Teddy stopped struggling. The curse word was worse than the twisted arm. Teddy didn’t know what the man would do next, but he felt certain that it wouldn’t be good, and he began to cry a little. As the man carried him up the stairs, Teddy watched the walls go by, the pictures he rarely looked at because they were hung high above his eye level. Pictures of his parents, then his parents with Livvy when she was little, and finally his favorite, the large one of all four of them, dressed in white shirts and pressed close together, smiling. Teddy remembered that day, how they practiced pressing together and smiling over and over while the photographer took their picture, how he could smell his mother’s perfume and his father’s shirt, the dry cleaner smell.

The stranger carried him down the hall to his parents’ room, with the other stranger and Livvy behind them. The older one knocked on the door, and his parents were surprised to see the men’s guns. Teddy’s father took him away from the older one, and Teddy was so relieved that he burrowed as close to his dad as he could and stopped paying attention to what they were saying. Everyone seemed angry. Teddy hoped his father would tell the strangers to leave, but they all went down in the basement instead.

It was nice once the strangers went upstairs and left them alone, and his dad put the furniture together like it was a living room instead of a basement. Teddy wasn’t sure why they had the sleepover in the basement, but his father explained that it was like camping, that they were practicing for a trip to Moose Lake. In the morning Teddy felt better. His mother let him help with the laundry until she had to go on her errand, but his father didn’t feel well, and had to rest up on the couch. Livvy played with him though, and usually she was too busy to play for very long, so that was fun. Everything had been fine until lunchtime, when his mom still hadn’t come back so the stranger named Ryan had to make lunch. Teddy had to go to the bathroom, and that was when Livvy told him that he had to run out the door and keep going.

Teddy felt like he had been walking for a very long time, but he didn’t see the Sterns’ house, and he was starting to worry that he was lost. But then he took another turn and realized where he was: across the street was his second-favorite park. It would have been more fun if Mark had been there, too, because there was a wooden bridge that was fun to jump on if you had two people. Maybe Mrs. Stern would bring Mark to the park. Maybe they were on their way.

Teddy decided to wait in the little playhouse at the top of the climbing structure, where he had a clear view of the parking lot. Also, the wind couldn’t get inside the house so it was warmer in there. He tucked his knees under his chin and blew on his fingers and the cold-ache went away a little. In the field, a woman with a ponytail threw a ball for her dog, and Teddy watched the dog run and jump into the air to catch the ball in its jaws.
Good boy,
Teddy said each time, though he said it on the inside, with words that only he could hear.

Chapter Fifteen

He wasn’t dead.

When Jen wouldn’t stop screaming, Ryan took her upstairs to her bedroom to prove it, Dan trailing behind them. Ted was stretched out on the bed, his feet tied to the footboard with white plastic rope that Jen didn’t recognize. One hand was tied to the headboard, and the other lay awkwardly on the bedcovers, a bloody pulp at the elbow. Bits of bone showed through the torn flesh, and his hand was swollen, twitching and purple. Under his ruined arm, the bed was saturated with blood; more blood crusted his shirt. The stain on the bed was bright at the center, glistening wetly, and Jen imagined the blood seeping through the down blanket and sheets and mattress pad.

“Jen,” Ted said when he saw her, wincing from the effort.

“Oh, my God, Ted—” Jen tried to yank herself free from Ryan’s grip, but he held tight.

“That’s far enough,” Ryan said. “You can see him from here.”

“Why did you have to shoot him?” She fought Ryan, twisting and trying to get some leverage with her elbows, but he was stronger than he appeared, and he managed to pull her against his chest with her arms behind her back. When he spoke, his breath was hot against her neck. He smelled of sweat and ham and Ted’s cologne.

“Now
look,
” he snapped, yanking her arms painfully. “You
fight
me, shit’s going to happen. That’s what happened to your damn husband. Just calm down or things are going to get a lot worse.”

“Okay.” She let her arms go limp to show she wouldn’t give him any more trouble. “Can I please just see how bad it is?”

“You can see from here. It’s just his arm. He’ll live.”

“I’m all right, Jen,” Ted said, but his voice was weak and thready.

“Where are the kids? Are they downstairs?”

“Look, don’t freak.” Ryan tightened his grip again. “It’s Livvy’s fault—she let that damn kid run away. That’s how this whole thing happened.”

“What do you
mean,
he ran away? Teddy? Do you mean Teddy?”

“She was trying to help,” Ted wheezed. “Livvy helped him get out.”

“Is he okay? Oh, my God, is Teddy
okay?
”

“Well, he was when he left here. Look, is he retarded or something?” Ryan said. “Because Livvy said he doesn’t talk. That damn well better be true.”

“He’s not retarded...he just has a condition. He never talks to anyone outside the family. He won’t say anything.” Jen couldn’t believe all of this was happening, that things had gotten so much worse while she and Dan had been gone. She couldn’t keep the panic out of her voice. “Where did he go? Is Livvy okay?”

“Livvy’s all right. She’s in the basement,” Ted said. He paused, his face contorted with pain, before continuing. “She...told Teddy to go to the Sterns’.”

“Christ, Ryan!” Dan exploded. “I can’t
believe
you.” He turned on Jen. “Who the fuck are the Sterns?”

“They’re a family from school. Teddy’s best friend. He goes there every Friday for a playdate.” Jen tried to calculate if the truth served her better than a lie. “You should be glad. They would have been suspicious if he
didn’t
show up.”

“Jesus!” Dan said. “I told you to leave them in the basement. How hard is that? I’m gone one hour—”

“You were gone more than an hour,” Ryan said testily. “Everyone was hungry. What was I supposed to do, let them starve?”

“So you just let them come upstairs and have the run of the place? Did you even stop for one minute and think about the
plan?
”

“No, I didn’t let them have the
run of the place,
” Ryan snapped, mocking Dan with a reedy falsetto. “Livvy had to take her brother to the bathroom and I was getting drinks. She threw a coffeepot at me. I’m supposed to know she’s going to throw a
coffeepot
at me?”

“Listen to me,” Dan said, grabbing Ryan’s arm so hard he nearly fell down. For a moment Jen thought Ryan was going to fight back, his eyes sparking dangerously, but he just shook off the older man’s hand. “Go wait for me downstairs. Don’t do one goddamn thing. Just sit there.”

For a moment they glared at each other, and then Ryan stomped out of the room, muttering. Ted moaned and Jen started to go to him, but Dan grabbed her arm roughly and yanked her back.

Things were falling apart at a dangerous rate, the potential for things going irrevocably wrong expanding much too fast. Ted looked like he was going to pass out at any moment. Livvy had somehow given Teddy the chance to get away. If he ran to the Sterns’, he’d be safe, but Cricket would wonder why he was by himself, since Jen had never let him walk over alone before. And certainly not without a coat. She was probably calling, even now. If Jen didn’t answer, what would she do? Would she come over?

Jen forced herself to think it through. If it was her, she’d call Cricket and tell her to call her back as soon as she got the message. And then she’d get the boys settled, and she’d wait. How long? An hour? Two? The Friday playdate frequently turned into dinner and sometimes even a sleepover, if the boys were getting along well.

Jen felt a tiny, desperate ray of hope. Teddy would be safe at the Sterns’, as long as she could keep Cricket from coming over. “Let me call her,” she said. “Let me tell her to keep him for a sleepover.”

“I’m supposed to trust you to talk to her?” Dan rubbed his temples as though he had a ferocious headache. “God
damn
it.”

“I’ll make it quick, I’ll tell her something came up, that Livvy got invited to the city and I have to drive—she won’t think anything of it.”

“Right, and if he isn’t there? If he
didn’t
show up? You don’t think your friend’s going to find it a little strange that neither of you know where he is? I’m damn sure not going to have the whole neighborhood looking for him.”

For a moment nobody spoke. Jen tried to weigh the possibilities. Either Teddy was at the Sterns’, in which case he was safe. Or else he was outside somewhere, in the cold. But someone would see him. There were only so many places he could go, and there were people everywhere. Someone would find him and take care of him. Wouldn’t they?

“Look.” Dan took a deep breath and let it out, scowling. “Your kid doesn’t talk, right? He’s got some kind of disability?”

“He has selective mutism. He doesn’t talk to strangers, ever.”

“What about his friend? His friend’s mom? He wouldn’t talk to them, even if he was upset? Even if they were asking him why the hell he wasn’t wearing a coat?”

“He only talks to us. Me, Ted, Livvy, that’s all. I swear it.”

“It’s true,” Ted said, gritting his teeth against the pain. “Doesn’t—talk.”

Dan raked his hand through his hair, loosing flakes of dandruff that settled on his shoulders, on Ted’s shirt. “You’d better be telling me the goddamn truth. Because if that kid does talk, he’s going to make trouble for all of us. And you aren’t calling anyone. If your friend comes over here, you’re going to answer the door and lie your ass off, and I’ll be standing right next to the door where she can’t see me. You screw up, I’ll shoot her first, and then you. You think I won’t do it, you just test me. Her I can kill. You I keep alive until I get my money.”

Jen nodded. There were so many ways his plan could go wrong, but she didn’t have anything better. She had to trust that Cricket would take care of Teddy. Maybe Mark answered the door; then Cricket would assume Jen waited in the car to make sure Teddy got in the house before driving off. Mark loved to answer the door, so it seemed entirely possible.

She just had to have faith that Teddy was safe at the Sterns’. That left Livvy and Ted, who was looking worse by the minute.

“We’ve got to get Ted help,” Jen implored Dan. “He can’t spend the night like that.”

“He’s not going anywhere until I get what I came here for. Besides, he has some explaining to do. He’d damn well better not pass out before he tells us what happened to the money. Ask him. Go on, ask him, Jen.”

It took her a second to understand what he meant. The events of the morning seemed impossibly long ago. “He means the account, Ted. Dan took me to the bank to cash out the money market, but most of it was gone. There was a withdrawal, sixty thousand dollars.”

For a moment Ted didn’t react. Then his face crumpled. “Oh, God, what have I done?”

So it was true. Jen realized that she had been holding out hope that there was some explanation, some error on the part of the bank, that her husband hadn’t actually secretly done something so monumental.

What
have
you done?
She wanted to scream it, to launch herself at him. Because it didn’t really matter how it came about, or why, only that Ted had been the one who’d risked their lives, their
children’s
lives.

Except that Ted would never intentionally do anything to hurt any of them. And now he was lying in his own blood, his arm mangled, and it was clear that he was desperately remorseful. What good would it do to make it worse? They still had to get through this. It wasn’t over; the bad news kept coming. If they were going to turn this around they would have to work together.

“Can you get it back?” Dan asked coldly.

A second shuddering sob racked his body. “No, no...it’s gone. It’s
gone.
”

Jen couldn’t bear to watch her husband’s agony. She pulled free of Dan, and he didn’t try to stop her. “Shoot me if you want,” she said. “What’s one more bullet?”

She went to the bed and sat down on the edge of the soiled mattress, her body tensed in anticipation of a bullet, of Dan’s fist smashing into her, but he didn’t move. Jen touched Ted’s head, stroking his hair, forcing herself to set aside her anger. “It’s all right,” she said. “We’re taking it out of the investment account. We’ll get their money that way. Don’t worry, we’ll get through this.”

“I can’t stand that I’ve done this to you.” Ted tried to sit up, sinking back when pain seized him, making him whimper.

“Very touching,” Dan snapped. “But the price just went up. You’re going to show me your investments, Jen, and you’re going to transfer every damn penny. You hear me? All of it.”

“They won’t let me touch the 401(k)s,” she protested. “That would take days. You have to fill out all kinds of forms.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about. I know you got other accounts. Big fat ones full of rainy-day savings. How much more do you have? And don’t bother lying, unless you want to see what happens when you push me too far.”

Jen didn’t have to calculate—she knew the sum practically down to the dollar from looking over the end of year statements. “Just over three hundred,” she whispered. “Three eleven.”

“Three hundred
thousand?
” Dan whistled. “Holy shit. Holy mother of God shit...” He shook his head slowly. “Well, that puts a new spin on things. Don’t know about you—actually, I do know about you, but
my
day just got a little brighter.”

“It’s my fault,” Ted gasped. A smell wafted from him, the smell she’d noticed downstairs. She’d read that blood smelled metallic, but the odor coming off her husband was something else, dirt and fear and chemicals and misery. “This is all my fault.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she whispered, her mind already spinning, trying to work through the details of the account transfer.

“She’s right, buddy. It doesn’t matter, long as we get paid. But listen, just for kicks, I know
I’m
dying to know—what did you do with the cash?”

Ted closed his eyes, and his head lolled back against the pillows.

And Jen wondered if she really wanted to know. He looked so vulnerable, so damaged. She had no idea how badly injured his arm was. No matter what happened, he had paid heavily for whatever he had done. She stroked his face and tried to communicate forgiveness through her touch.

But Dan grabbed Ted’s foot, still clad in one of the old running shoes he wore for working on the house, and shook it. “Hey. I asked you a question.”

When Ted only moaned, Dan took hold of the hand of his wounded arm and gave it a shove. Not hard—but it was enough: Ted screamed and blood seeped from the wound. Jen grabbed Dan’s arm, trying to tear him away from her husband. He shoved her hard enough to send her crashing into the corner of the dresser, the edge connecting painfully with her hip.

“Now,”
Dan said, all traces of amusement gone from his voice. “Tell us what you did with the money.”

Ted’s eyes were shiny with unshed tears, and he looked at Jen as he spoke, his voice breaking. “I’ve done something really bad. I wanted...I’ve been trying to make it right, and I’ve only made it worse. I...”

“It’s all right,” Jen said, easing back down next to him on the bed, trying not to cause him any more pain. She stroked the hair away from his eyes. “Whatever it is, it’s all right.”

But even as she spoke the words of forgiveness, Jen’s dread grew. What if the truth was too big? Too much? What if she
couldn’t
forgive him?

“I started gambling again.” He stumbled over the words, as if he could read her thoughts and wanted to get the truth out before she changed her mind. “After I got laid off. Just the track, at first. Just a few times, with some guys from business school.”

Jen tried to wrap her mind around what he was telling her. Gambling. Sure, he and his friends from the old days used to go to the track sometimes, but it didn’t mean anything. It was supposed to be ironic, like the cigars and bourbon and the dinners at the Palm...wasn’t it? And he hadn’t mentioned his old friends in a long time. He barely saw them since they’d moved to the suburbs.

“We went out.... I told you about it, after I got laid off. Remember? And then a couple of the other guys got laid off, too, and we started betting on the games. It was supposed to be a joke. You know, little bets, fifty bucks, we said if any of us won we’d buy rounds for all the poor slobs who were out of a job. I didn’t tell you about it because...well, because it seemed sort of pathetic.” He swallowed and looked away.

Jen thought of all the nights Ted said he was going to the city for networking events, coming home late after he said he had a drink with some potential employer or fellow job searcher. She’d been naive enough to believe him, because she wanted so badly for him to be looking for work.