Mother (52 page)

“Don’t worry too much. Jason will be with her again tomorrow, right?”

“Right. I’ll send him home as soon as he lands. There’s a big storm coming down from Canada that will be hitting Denver early, so they’re heading back before dawn.”

“Good.” She watched him. “Don’t worry too much, Paul. If I know anything about Priscilla Martin, it’s that she’d never do anything too obvious - nothing that would cast suspicion on her.”

Paul nodded, but he couldn’t escape the cold sense of dread that had wrapped its hands around his lungs. He decided he’d give Claire a call before leaving town … just in case.

Heinous Liaisons
 

“Frederick! What are you doing out here? You’ll catch your death of cold!”
 

Fred heard Priscilla
tsk
as she unlocked the screen and yanked his wheelchair over the threshold so hard he bounced in the seat. He clung to the armrests, afraid of falling.

His wife had shut the screen and locked it after she’d pushed him outside a couple of hours earlier. It was an old trick of hers. Last time was in August, during a record heat wave. He’d suffered a bad sunburn and she’d acted like he’d locked himself out.
Just as she’s doing now
. He wondered what was going on. Priscilla pulled such stunts when she was agitated. She took out her aggressions that way.
 

“I brought your dinner. Have you urinated, Frederick? Do I need to check your bum?”

He shook his head.

“Well, good for you! I’m so proud of you, even if you were a naughty boy sitting out there in the cold. Honestly, I don’t know what possesses you! You’ll catch pneumonia and I’ll have to take care of you! Let me get your urinal, then it’s time for chicken, mashed potatoes, and peas! Your favorites.”

His favorite was spaghetti, but chicken wasn’t bad - he could smell it and it made his mouth water.
 

Priscilla had left the room without offering him so much as a sweater, but was back quickly, her hands at his pajama bottoms, reaching for his business, yanking it out and shoving it into the urinal spout before he could stop her. He tried to say “No” but it came out “Oo,” and she ignored him, pressing his penis painfully against the plastic rim. He put his hand on her wrist and squeezed as hard as he could. With a little yelp, she let go and he took over.
 

“Why, Frederick, you want to do it yourself! That’s so precious!” She smiled. “But please don’t squeeze my wrist like that again! You hurt me. You don’t want to hurt your little Pris-Pris, do you?” She shook her head. “I don’t know where you got the strength.”

He did - his legs might not work, or even his mouth these days, but he’d been exercising his hands and arms more and more since his daughter had shown up and given him a reason to live. His arms were beginning to respond almost normally now and his hands were in great shape. He’d never let Prissy see that, though.

“Dinner time!” she announced when he put himself away. After setting the urinal on the dresser, she picked up a bottle of hand sanitizer and a covered platter and brought them over, setting them on the tray she’d snugged up to him. He cleaned his hands, noting she didn’t bother to clean hers. She never did. His stomach growled until he saw a large tumbler with a straw and a smaller cup beside it. Within the big one was his dinner, a pale yellow mass with pea-colored swirls. The small glass held something white.
Tapioca pudding
. It was always tapioca.
At least she didn’t blend it into the chicken.
 

“I know you’d like your meal on a plate Frank-Frederick, but Carlene is having a very bad day and is waiting for her dinner, too. I promised to eat with her tonight. Isn’t that nice?” She pulled a sad face. “I’m so sorry, but I just can’t be here to help you eat. I’m sure you understand. And it’s so yummy this way. Think of it as a chicken dinner shake.”

She’d been blending most of his meals lately; at least she offered an excuse this time. He grunted. He was fully capable of feeding himself, though lately, he was having more trouble moving his mouth. She did it for herself, not for him. Priscilla never did anything that wasn’t for herself.

She was smiling down at him in that condescending way of hers. “Just let me put on your bib, and then I’ll leave you to eat in peace.”

“I miss you,” Jason said. “And I love you.”

Claire smiled. “Really?”

“Really. I can’t wait to get home. And I’ll be earlier than I thought. A storm is hitting Denver, so we’re hightailing it out before it hits. I should be home sometime tomorrow afternoon.”

“That’s wonderful!”

There was silence. After a beat, Jason asked, “Claire, how’s everything? Are you okay?”

The concern and care in his voice surprised her. “Yes. Mother is on her way up with dinner. She’s being nice to me. Probably because she thinks I’m losing my mind.”

“Claire. I’ve been reading the journals.”

“You have?”

“I believe you.”
 

Her heart swelled. “You do?”

“Yes. Listen to me. I don’t know what’s going on, but you are
not
losing your mind. Stop thinking that. Claire, I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you. Babs Vandercooth phoned me and tomorrow, when I get home, I’m going to get the rest of our stuff moved to Paul’s. This weekend, we’ll be out of your mother’s house for good and-”

“Wait - what did Babs say, Jason?”

“I’ll tell you the details later, but basically, she said she’ll come stay with you until I get home every day.”

Tears of relief surged into Claire’s eyes. “Aunt Babs is the best, isn’t she?”
 

“She
is
the best. She offered to have us move in with her immediately, you know, until the house is ready. I thanked her and said the house
is
ready - that tomorrow night will be our last night under your mother’s roof. ”

Claire laughed. “Plus, I’d hate to see how Mother would react to us moving down the street. She’d punish Aunt Babs severely.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about Babs - she can hold her own. But I
am
worried about you. Babs and Carl offered to come get you tonight. Do you want them to?”

“I … well, as nice as that sounds, it’d be difficult. Mother’s behaving. She really is, and I don’t want to rock the boat, especially with you out of town.”

“That does make sense. It’ll be a cleaner break if we don’t give her any warning. I’m just worried about you.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re not imagining things.”

“Jason, there’s something else.”

“I’m listening.”

“That night I was so upset, I’d gone to see Dad and he had makeup on, even false eyelashes.”

“Huh?”

“Seriously. Makeup. Like a drag queen or …” she shuddered, “a clown. He couldn’t have done it to himself. I think Mother drugged him.”
 

“But …
why
?”

“I don’t know.” She couldn’t bring herself to say anything about the defiled teddy bear or the incessant
tap-tap-tap
sounds that came at all hours, not yet, but telling him about the makeup was a load off her mind. “It was horrible.”

“I wish I could get back tonight,” Jason told her. “Maybe you
should
go to Babs’ place.”

“I think it’ll be okay, Jase. It’s only one night. I’ll just keep my mind on work. Knowing you believe me makes me feel so much better!”

“If you’re sure. I’ll check in with you before bed, okay?”

“Please. And Jason?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you. Thank you so much for believing me.”

“Don’t thank me - I should have listened all along. Call me anytime. And if anything weird happens again, you call Babs and Carl and they’ll come get you.”

“I’ll be fine, Jason. Knowing it’s not my imagination is an incredible relief.”

“I’m sorry I ever questioned you. I never will again. I was a fool.”

“I love you, Magic Man.”
 

“I love you, too.”

The moment she ended the call, the cell rang again. It was Paul. “Hello?”

“Hi, uh, I’m just calling to see how you are.”

Claire, confused, didn’t know what to say. “I’m fine, Paul, how are you?”

His laugh was uneasy. “It’s just that … I’m going out of town tomorrow and I know Jason’s not there tonight … so I wanted to see if you, uh, needed anything.”

She wondered if Jase had told him to check in on her. She smiled. “I’m fine, Paul. Really.” And it was true. Things were finally looking up. She considered telling him that she and Jason were planning to move in this weekend, but wasn’t sure if Jason had run it past him yet. “I just talked to Jason,” she said, “and everything is
wonderful,
in fact!”
 

Paul blew out a breath. “Oh, good!”

“Claire?” Mother rapped on the door.
 

“I’ll talk to you later. Mother’s here with dinner.”

Dave Flannigan sat forward in his easy chair and sipped his beer. “Priscilla Martin took me down a depraved road. A road I’ll never forgive myself for having traveled. I knew better.”

Andy watched the old man, who was lost in a different time and place, and could see his anguish. “So you took early retirement.”

Dave didn’t respond, and Andy wondered if he was going to.
Am I crossing a line, pressing him like this?
But the beer had loosened the old priest’s lips - Dave had brought up the subject of Priscilla Martin himself, so Andy plowed on.

“Tell me the rest, Dave.”

His eyes misted. “It wasn’t just the affair. It went beyond that. An affair, I could have lived with, but this …” He sipped his beer. “Priscilla continued going out of her way to catch Timothy masturbating. She admitted to listening outside his door, watching through keyholes.” He paused. “The worst part was, she told me these things in such a way that … As I told you before, I got the distinct impression it aroused her - and she hoped it aroused me, as well.”

“A voyeur.” Andy cleared his throat.

Dave Flannigan’s small blue eyes wandered the tabletop. “Worse than that. She became convinced Tim was thinking about one of his teachers while he did it. Then students, one girl in particular. I think what bothered Priscilla was that he wasn’t fantasizing about
her.
”

“Dear God.” Andy’s beer curdled in his stomach.

Dave nodded and went on. “When we began the affair, it was all right at first. It was exciting, and God help me, I enjoyed it. You might say I was addicted to her. But as time passed, her son became a constant presence - even in our intimate moments.”

“What does that mean?”

“At first, nothing, really. She’d just talk about him a lot - ask questions about how to deter him from self-abuse. But then …” he swallowed. “Then she started talking about … other things.”

Andy wanted to press his friend, but thought it best to let him reveal the story at his own pace.

“When threats of brimstone and hellfire proved useless against Timothy’s activities, Priscilla came to me with a new idea - one I should have reported right away. I didn’t, because I would have lost my position at Holy Sacramental.” His watery gaze touched Andy’s for the briefest moment, then lowered. “When she first suggested it, I couldn’t believe she was serious. But she was, and the more I denied her, the more insistent she became.”

Andy was riveted, sitting forward, tense, as if he were in a theater, watching a drama unfold.

Dave’s eyes met Andy’s; this time, they stayed. “She wanted us to perform for her son.”

Andy’s mouth fell open and his throat went dry. “What? Why?”

“She said he needed to learn what sex really was, and that seeing it firsthand would straighten out his misconceptions and show him that masturbation was an offense to the Lord, because He intended sexual intercourse to take place between a man and a woman - not a boy and his hand.”

“You’ve … got to be kidding me, Dave.”

Dave shook his head. “I’m afraid not.”

“You didn’t …?”

Dave’s stare was not kind. “Of
course
not! I did no such thing. The trouble was, when I refused, and she realized I wouldn’t budge, she threatened to go to the police … and claim that I raped her. She said she could go to the station right then, file a report, and there would be evidence of my semen inside her to prove it. DNA testing was relatively new then, but I had no doubt they’d believe her.” He was silent a long moment. “And that’s why I resigned from the priesthood. Not because I had an affair with Priscilla Martin, but because I couldn’t bring myself to go to the police and turn her in for child abuse. I knew if I did that, the affair would come out.” He gave Andy a tight, grim smile. “I was a coward.”

The Ones that Mother Gives You

 
“Do you want another piece of chicken, dear? I’ve got more downstairs.”

“No, thank you, Mother. I’m stuffed to the gills. It was delicious. I’d love some cold chicken for lunch tomorrow. I’m sure Jason would too. He might be home that early.” Claire leaned back in her desk chair and patted her belly.
 

“I’ll bring you both all sorts of goodies from the pot luck.” Mother studied her. “You’re starting to show.”

Claire pulled at the elastic of her sweats. “I’ve been wearing fat pants for a couple of weeks now.”

“As soon as you’re able, I’ll take you out to shop for maternity clothes.”

Claire wanted to refuse, but there was no point in stirring up trouble. “That’s nice, thanks.” She thought of Jason’s last call, his newfound belief in her, and smiled.

“You look happy,” Mother said.

“I am. Jason will be home soon, and I feel like things are getting better. And my appetite’s come back.” The taste of homemade gravy on mashed potatoes was so wonderful that, in her head, it played like a melody.
 

“I thought you and Jason were having a little trouble. I guess you’ve patched things up?”

Claire smiled. “He’s wonderful.” Her mood soared, and the melody in her head became audible. It came from the leftover mashed potatoes and gravy on her plate. It sounded like
Margaritaville.
She cocked her head and giggled. “What the hell?”