Secondhand Sinners (30 page)

She answered it and cringed when she heard Owens’ nasally voice. Something about it pierced her skull and shots hot barbs through her brain.

“Is this Abby?” he asked.

“It’s Emily.”

“Oh yeah.” Owens grunted. “Anyway. Tell Miller we didn’t find your mom anywhere in her house.”

“That’s impossible. I got off the phone with her less than ten minutes ago. She said she was at home waiting for me.”

“Well, she ain’t there.” There was a long period of silence then he said, “I’ll be out there in a bit, after I check on Alan.”

Emily hung up. Where could her mom be? She’d said she was at home, that she was waiting for her. Why would she have left?

Miller came around the corner holding a wooden spoon. “Everything okay?”

“My mom’s not at her house.”

“That’s weird. Are you sure she said she was home?”

“Yeah. She said she was waiting for me in my room. I don’t understand why…Oh God.”

“What?”

It was starting to make terrible sense to Emily. “I think she’s is in my room. My old room.”

“Huh?”

“Call Owens again, and don’t let Abby go upstairs.”

“I sent her to her room to get you a pillow.”

“No, Miller.
This
is my old house, and Abby’s room is my old room. My mom’s up there.”

Miller dropped the spoon and took off running for the stairs. Emily scooted out from under Jack’s head and followed him. When they got upstairs, they found Abby standing in her perfectly clean room over her perfectly made bed, staring at an unconscious Gail.

“What was she going to do with that?” Abby asked, pointing to the full, uncapped syringe that was in Gail’s hand.

Miller and Emily looked at each other.

“How long do you think she’s been here?” Miller asked.

“She started leaving me messages hours ago, telling me to come home. I think she must’ve gotten here right after we left with Alan.”

“Abby would’ve been here alone when she showed up. You know what that means, don’t you?”

“Alan saved Abby’s life.” She moved closer to inspect the syringe that was meant for her and watched her mom’s chest slowly rise and fall. She was still alive. Underneath her mom’s head was her prayer book. She took the syringe from her hand and squirted the bleach out. “I need a few minutes alone with her, if you don’t mind.”

“Are you sure?”

“She’s no threat to me now, and I promised her I’d pray for her. Five minutes. Then you can call Owens.”

Miller and Abby stepped out of the room. Emily took the prayer book, sat on the bed, and laid her mom’s head onto her lap.

“You came to pray with me. You kept your promise,” her mom said in a weak voice.

“I said I would.”

Gail opened her eyes briefly. “Did you find the syringe? Did you clean yourself?”

Emily cringed at the physical pain that came from knowing her mother would have injected that syringe into Abby. Her mom was sick, and Emily hadn’t even known it until today.

“I did,” she lied. “I’m clean.”

“That’s good,” Gail sighed.

“I know Hoyt’s my father. What happened?”

Gail ignored her question. “All this time it was your blood that needed to be cleaned. Now we’re all clean.”

“Please. I need to know.”

“I was engaged to your fa…to Norman. I wasn’t happy. Hoyt came along. He was older, charming, and so handsome. He said he loved me and offered to take me away. He said he’d take me anywhere I wanted to go. He never did take me anywhere…except to a dirty room in a cheap motel. When I told him I was pregnant he laughed at me and said, ‘Tell Violet we’re even.’ Then he left me, and I was heartbroken. I told Mother and she blamed me. I never did find out what happened between the two of them. He used me as some kind of a…I don’t know…a…a…” Her breathing was becoming more and more shallow.

“As a weapon?”

“No. A reckoning.”

“Mom, I’m so sorry.”

“I was going to get rid of it…of you. Mother told Norman, and he made me keep you. You were supposed to be my punishment, but I’ve always loved you. I could never let them see how much I loved you or they would have made it harder for you.”

Emily touched her mother’s cheek. “I knew you loved me.”

“You said once that God has names.”

“Yes.”

“What do you call God?” Gail asked in a voice that was barely a whisper.

“‘God.’ I know He has names, I’ve never learned them.”

“Do you think He knows my name?”

She was pretty sure she knew where her mother was going with her questions because she had asked these very same questions herself. “Yes.”

“Do you think He saw when Hoyt broke my heart?”

“Yes, I think He did.”

“Do you think He knew I let you be hurt?”

“Yes. I do.”

“Then why did He let it happen?”

That was the question of Emily’s life. Why had God let her parents hurt her? Why did He let Jack be autistic? Why did He let her ex cheat? She didn’t know. All she knew was that bad stuff happened and maybe there would come a day when she could say it was all worth it. Hopefully she would recognize it when it happened.

“I don’t think God’s job is to keep evil from happening.”

“I’m so tired. Will you pray for me now?”

Emily ran her finger along the spine of the book. The silver letters of the title,
Prayers for a Better Tomorrow
, were mostly worn off. She opened the book to the earmarked page titled,
For the Sick and the Dying,
and began to read a prayer to a God she didn’t understand, whose name she didn’t know, for a healing she knew wouldn’t come. She was glad for the chance to feel close to her mother before it was over.

CHAPTER

THIRTY-THREE

Miller

When Owens walked into his house, Miller said, “Follow me,” and led him through the house to the stairs.

“I checked on Alan like Emily suggested,” Owens said as he followed behind Miller.

“And?”

“Found the yellow pads of paper and a couple of plane tickets to Colorado with his and Emily’s names on them.”

“Interesting.”

“I’ll look into it some more. I guess it’s possible Emily was telling the truth.”

“Where’s Alan now?”

“Still on his bed.” Owens grinned. “Still waiting to die.”

“You didn’t tell him that wasn’t bleach?”

“The boys at the station and I have a bet to see how long it’ll take him to figure that out on his own. I’ve got three hours. If it goes over that, I’ll fill him in.”

They walked into Abby’s room. Miller knew when he saw Gail that she was dead. Crazy old lady died smiling. Emily’s torso was slouched over Gail. Poor thing was so tired she fell asleep reading to her dying mother.

“Em,” he said in a low voice and gently shook the arm that was draped over Gail. “Sheriff Owens is here.”

She didn’t move. Miller shook her arm harder. She still didn’t wake up. “Wake up, Emily,” he said, shaking her as panic set in. He tried to sit her up so he could shake her harder, but she fell back over her dead mother and Gail’s old prayer book fell out of her lap. “Sheriff, I think you better call for an ambulance.”

***

Miller watched the nurse hurry by him again. He didn’t know what to be bothered by more—that two weeks after they put Emily into the medical coma for the head trauma Alan had inflicted on her they were still running these tests, or that this time the tests were taking so damn long. The fact that the nurse’s eye contact had gone from hopefully sympathetic to nonexistent was something he wasn’t willing to accept as anything other than a professional necessity on her part. She was obviously too busy taking care of the woman he loved to cater to his anxieties.

The nurse passed by him again, slower this time. Then the doctor came out and said something to another nurse, who took off in the other direction.

Miller rose and shook the hand he offered. “Well?” he asked. “How does it look?”

“I think you should sit down, Miller,” the doctor said.

“I don’t need to sit. Just tell me.”

“There’s been another complication.”

“What?”

“Seriously, Miller. You should have a seat.”

The hope in Miller’s heart plummeted into his stomach like a twenty-pound weight, forcing him to sit back down. He swallowed hard and asked, “What?”

“There’s been another complication.”

“You said that already.”

“I know. I need you to understand how serious this is. We can’t care for Emily here anymore. We’re going to have to move her to Oklahoma City.”

“That’s three hours away.”

“It’s where she needs to be.”

This wasn’t what he had hoped to hear. The hope that she would be able to wake up soon was getting him through the exhaustion. The drive into Durant was growing longer by the day, but a three-hour, one-way drive?

“The kids. How am I gonna—”

“It’s where she needs to be. You know what?” The doctor looked down the hallway and then back to Miller. “Let’s go to Emily’s room. I think it’s better if you see for yourself.”

Miller stood back up. As he followed the doctor to Emily’s room, the weight of hope in his stomach had shattered into shrapnel. He should have known better than to hope Emily was going to be okay, hope they’d have a shot at a second chance, hope for happiness. He stepped into her room. The doctor was already at the head of her bed, standing next to the heart rate monitor that was attached to her.

Miller looked at the monitor and then at Emily. “That can’t be,” he whispered.

“Like I said, we have to move her. We’re not equipped.”

Miller nodded, said, “Okay,” and then started to cry.

CHAPTER

THIRTY-FOUR

Miller

Miller woke to the sound of water running in the bathroom and opened his eyes to the empty side of the bed. He was tired of waking up to the empty side of the bed. He’d been sleeping in the middle of the bed ever since Sara left. Now, no matter where he started, he always ended up on one side with his hand touching the vacant pillow.

He got up and went into the bathroom. Jack was standing in front of the sink on the stool Miller had put in there for him and holding a hairbrush under the running water. He put the wet brush to his head and plastered the front of his hair diagonally across his head, leaving the back dry and sticking up.

“Whatchya doing?” he asked.

“Have to look handsome.”

“That top button looks a little tight.”

“You got any perfume?”

“Definitely not. I do have some cologne though.” Miller retrieved his cologne from the medicine cabinet, sprinkled a few drops into Jack’s hands, and showed him how to apply it.

“Do I look handsome?”

He held the boy out at arm’s length. “Yep. Best-looking kid in the first grade. Go on down to the kitchen. I’ll be right there.”

Jack darted out of the room but came right back, said, “Thanks,” and took off again.

Miller pulled on dirty jeans and a wrinkled t-shirt and went downstairs. He was pouring the pancake batter onto the griddle when Abby came downstairs waving her hand in front of her nose. “Who took a bath in the Eternity?”

“I did,” Jack said after taking a gulp of milk.

“You can’t go to school like that,” she said, reaching down to unbutton Jack’s top button. “Don’t you realize you commit social suicide every day you go to school with your shirt like that?”

“What’s suicide?”

“Abby,” Miller warned.

“It’s nothing,” she said.

“Miller said I’m handsome.”

“Yeah, well, my dad also thinks t-shirts and jeans are a good choices for important days like today.”

“I’m going to change.” Miller pointed the spatula at her. “And don’t jinx it.”

“I still think you should let us come with you.”

“You’ve already been more than helpful. You can’t miss any more school. Jack really needs to stay in his routine. Right, Jack?”

“I’ll be in good hands with Allstate.”

Abby leaned in. “Have you heard from that lawyer?”

Miller flipped a pancake. “Any day now. You don’t have to whisper. Jack knows about the adoption.”

Jack stuffed three bites of pancake into his mouth, chewed a few times and said, “I’m going to be an Anderson.”

“Ew. Tell me you don’t eat like that at school.”

Miller set a plate in front of Abby and kissed the top of her head. “Less talking. More eating. And don’t forget your medicine.”

Miller packed Jack’s lunch and was getting everything loaded into his backpack when Levi pulled up in his X-Terra.

“Hey, Levi,” he said, opening the passenger door for the kids. “I appreciate this.”

“You can stop thanking me.”

“Not likely.” He hoisted Jack up into the seat. “I know there are a million other places you’d rather be than here in this town.”

Levi shrugged. “I guess this place is growing on me.”

“You’re welcome to stay here, you know?”

“Won’t that be a little cramped? I mean…if today does go well.”

“Not for long. The new place will be finished in a week or two.”

Thank God. Abby slept on the couch now because she couldn’t stand to be in her own room anymore. Every time she tried she had nightmares of Gail or Emily. Jack slept wherever he fit, usually starting off on Abby’s bed and ending up on top of Miller. “You should go by and see it. Might inspire you to build your own.”

“I don’t know. I still kinda like it out there by that old barn.” Levi shifted gears and put his truck in reverse. “Gotta go. Let me know, okay?”

He nodded and waved. “Bye, kids!”

Abby rolled down her window. “Hey, Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“Jack wanted to make sure you got his drawing.”

“Got it.”

“Okay.” She smiled at him sympathetically. “I’m sure she’s going to get to come home today.”

“Me too.” He nodded and then backed away so she wouldn’t see any wetness in his eyes. The only thing he hated worse than seeing his daughter cry was letting her see him cry. She had definitely seen enough of that over the last several months.

After the kids left for school, he took a shower, shaved and even put on some of that cologne. He put on a clean pair of jeans and a clean t-shirt and rushed down the stairs. He reached for the doorknob then remembered the picture Jack drew, along with his own. He definitely needed to take those.

***

When Miller walked into the hospital, he stopped at the gift shop to pick up some flowers.

“Pink carnations again, eh?” the old, male volunteer asked as he picked all the pink ones out of the bucket of water.

“Yep. All of ‘em this time.”

“You should get some blue or red ones. Change your luck.”

“Nope,” he said, dropping a ten on the counter. “My girl likes pink.”

The old man shook his head. “You know she can’t see them, right?”

“She likes pink,” Miller said. He walked out the door, hoping today was going to be the day so he wouldn’t have to buy flowers with people telling him shit like that. He’d gotten so tired of people telling him what wasn’t possible, what she couldn’t see, what she couldn’t hear, what she couldn’t feel. When this whole thing was over, he was going to plant her a whole garden full of pink roses because he knew she liked pink.

The closer he got to her room, the harder his heart started to pound. This was it. Hopefully. However, the closer he got, the louder all the ifs and maybes started to sound in his ear.

If she can breathe on her own, then maybe. Maybe, if she can get over this infection.
If we could get her to stay awake.

He got to her room and stood outside the door. This had to be the day. He didn’t know how much longer he could stand it. Her nurse walked out of the room and greeted him.

“How’s my girl doing today?” he asked.

She patted him on the shoulder. “You should go see for yourself.”

Miller went into the room and closed the door quietly behind him. The dark room was lit by the lamp in the corner, as usual. He smiled when he saw Emily sitting in the rocking chair, smiling back at him.

“Well?” he asked, putting the flowers on the table.

“She gained a few more ounces and nursed really well already this morning. We get to take our little girl home.”

It took everything Miller had in him not to drop to his knees and cry like a baby. This was the third time in his life he was so happy he could cry. The first time was when the doctor showed him the baby’s heart rate on the monitor. The second time was a week and a half later when Emily woke up from her coma. He wiped the tears out of his eyes and walked over to Emily and their tiny baby girl.

“Well our little Danielle is a fighter.”

“Why don’t you come hold your daughter so I can get her stuff together?”

He took the little bundle in his arms; she sucked on her bottom lip. “Abby used to do that when she slept too.”

“How were the kids this morning?” Emily asked.

“They were fine.”

“I know I’ll still be getting up at four every morning to nurse the baby, but I’m really looking forward to being able to stay home to feed her. I miss mornings with the kids.”

“Oh yeah…” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out the picture Jack drew. “Jack insisted I give this to you.” He handed her the folded piece of paper with Jack’s five stick figures and
‘
My Family’
written across the top. “I think the boy might be an artistic genius,” Miller said as she unfolded it.

“Oh yeah?”

“The big one with the muscles is me. Abby’s on the end. That’s you in the middle. He’s the one holding our little girl here.”

“With one hand? By her feet?”

“We’re really going to have to watch him with her.”

She smiled. “He wrote
My Family
at the top. I guess he can’t wait for all of us to be under one roof.”

“He’s not the only one.” Miller adjusted Danielle in his arms, pulled out the folded piece of paper from his other pocket, and handed it to Emily.

She studied it, turning it sideways, upside down and back to right side up. “This is filthy.”

“It sure is,” he said slowly, unable to hide his grin.

“How exactly are we supposed to do this with three kids in the house?”

“Jack can watch the baby. He’ll be great at it.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Well. I guess we’ll have to find time in between diaper changes, homework, packing, and two A.M. feedings. Not to mention the sibling squabbles that are sure to come, and I’m sure you and I are gonna go a few rounds over Abby getting her ears pierced or when Jack gets to play baseball.”

She stepped closer and pulled the baby’s blanket tighter. “Abby should already have her ears pierced.”

“And Jack should already be playing baseball.”

“Jack doesn’t really know what he wants.”

“Neither does Abby.” He sighed. “This is gonna be tough, isn’t it?”

She raised her eyebrows. “Yeah. Think we can do this without screwing up?”

He kissed his baby on her forehead and Emily on her lips. “Not a chance.”

THE END