Love and Death in Blue Lake (18 page)

She might be the last. He finished up just as the delivery bell rang at the back door. He looked out the security camera and saw his buddy, Harlan Tucker. He went out and let the chief of police in, locking the door behind them.

“Thought I’d check in,” Harlan said, moving into Eddie’s office and taking a seat on the sofa. Eddie had gotten used to Harlan’s semi-regular check-ins at closing time. He was not in uniform, so it was really a social call. Sometimes Harlan didn’t sleep so well. Went with the territory, he’d told Eddie one time early on in their friendship. Eddie took a beer from his personal fridge. “Frosty mug?”

Harlan laughed, opened the twist off top of his beer, and drank deep.

“No frosty mug necessary, but thanks.”

“For what?” Eddie wheeled his rolling office chair out from behind the desk and put his feet up on the other end of the beat up old sofa.

“The offer. The beer.”

Eddie nodded, wondering what was on Harlan’s mind. Working behind a bar had taught him that if you just kept your mouth shut, pretty soon someone else would open theirs. That had always been true of Harlan.

This early morning, Harlan didn’t seem in a hurry to do much talking. He took another long pull of his beer.

“What’s up?” Eddie couldn’t help himself. He was pretty sure the entire thing with Lily and Ruby and Papa Van Slyke was as done as it was going to get for a while, but you never knew. If there were developments, he wanted to know. The realization shocked him and while Harlan drank more beer, Eddie silently wondered why he cared. Shit. He cared.

“Nothing my end. Just doing a check-in. You?” Harlan set his half-finished beer on the tiled floor.

Eddie didn’t know what to say. Something big had just happened, but it was invisible. Maybe Harlan hadn’t noticed. “Not a thing.”

“Seen anything of young Ruby?”

“No. Why?” Eddie knew that was too abrupt but he was very busy zipping up his feelings, which had decided to take control.

“Well, I thought you were going to help her get onto
American Music Star
or something. You were gonna teach her stage presence. She was your newest protégé. As far as I recall.” Harlan picked up his beer again and drank a slow sip, like he had all night.

“Well, yeah, I was going to,” Eddie sputtered, “but now I don’t think it’s such a good idea. Her mother…” He trailed off, unwilling to get into this shit. He had to think about it some more.

“You said she had talent. You said she could be great. You said she needed proper guidance.” Harlan eyeballed him in that way cops had, like they could see inside every lie, even the ones you told yourself. “And I remember something about how it would be great for her to have something to focus on besides almost being raped and murdered.”

Eddie winced. He felt a jab of physical pain so strong, it took his breath for a second.

“What? I say something out of line?”

“No. You’re just reminding me of what a dumb ass I’ve been.” Eddie wasn’t sure if he’d been a dumb ass for ignoring Courtney and Ruby or if he’d been a dumb ass to get involved with them in the first place.

“Oh? How so?”

“I don’t know.” Then out came the story of the pregnancy, Xander’s visit, the miscarriage, the divorce papers, the entire messy wad of life that had suddenly spilled into his neat, clean life.

Harlan listened. He’d make a good bartender. After Eddie finished, Harlan didn’t speak for a minute. He pondered while Eddie stewed. Then, finishing off his beer, Harlan belched discreetly, opened a half full case of empties that doubled as a coffee table, and set the bottle inside. He closed the lid. “You love her?”

“Who? Ruby?” Did he? He cared, but did he love? Did he even have the capacity to love anymore? What was love? He wanted, had wanted Courtney as a woman. Had wanted to help Ruby achieve her musical dreams.

“Both of them. They’re a matching set.” Harlan interrupted Eddie’s train of slippery slope logic.

“Hell, I don’t know. I don’t know if there is such a thing as love.”

“There is. I see it every day in my line of work.”

“I see a lot of drunk people acting like fools in mine.”

Harlan just nodded.

Does wanting plus caring equal love? Eddie didn’t know.

“Tell me about this so-called love you see every day.”

“I see the love a woman has for a man when he’s had a heart attack on the job and I have to go tell her he’s in the hospital. I see the love a man has for a woman when another man tries to take her away and he beats the shit out of the guy. I see the love a parent has for their child when the kid’s being bullied and they come to the station for advice. I see the love a parent has for their child…”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” It seemed that caring about another person, about their well-being, was in fact a component of love. “I might love them. I care about them.”

“That’s love, you dumb ass.”

****

After Harlan left, Eddie let himself out the back door, locked up. He did the bank drop, slowing as he approached Courtney’s street. Her light was on upstairs, just like it was every night. What was wrong with him? Only one way home but why was he slowing down, setting his foot gently on the brake? Why was he turning his head and glancing down her block?

Why then did he turn onto her road? What made his foot hit the gas pedal a little harder, speeding toward her, the love of his life, his wife, soon to be ex if he ever got up the courage to take those damn papers to the mailbox. He pulled in front of her place, cut the lights, turned off the engine, pulled out his cell phone.

“You called?” He said it like she’d phoned just a minute before, instead of forty-seven hours and twenty minutes ago. She’d answered right away. He listened to her breathing. He watched the light in her bedroom.

“Oh.”

That was all she had to say? Now what?

“How’s Ruby?”

“Fine. She’ll be fine.”

“You?”

“Good.”

“That’s a damn lie.” He didn’t know what was wrong with him. He couldn’t think of the right words to say.

“Where are you?”

“Look out your window.”

He saw the curtain move, saw the shadow of her face. Her face. He needed to see her face. “Want company?”

Chapter Eleven

Courtney felt hope rise but tamped it down. Maybe if she told Edward it would make a difference. Or maybe that would be wrong. She’d have to wait and see. It was a good sign that he’d showed up at this time of night, wasn’t it?

“Okay. Come on in.”

“Is your door not locked?”

She chuckled. It surprised her that she could laugh, even a little bit. “You kidding? In this town?”

“It’s not the same town,” he said. He was dead serious. “Too many strangers these past few summers.”

She watched him slide his long legs out of his truck, watched him start the walk to her door, had to stop herself from skipping down to meet him. She’d questioned the nurse after Ruby left about the panic attack. Was it so common as the nurse seemed to believe? Or was she only trying to calm Ruby down?

“Hi.” She peeked up at him and his open face, so full of love, made her feel hopeful but still unsure. He’d fooled her with that look a few times already these past weeks. “You sure do pick a peculiar time to pay a social call.”

“Well, as I recall, you prefer early morning visits.”

They smiled at each other, shy as kids.

He accepted a seat on her sofa and the offer of a glass of water. She went into the kitchen to get them drinks, pouring herself a half glass of wine. What the hell. It might give her courage.

Turns out, that nurse had informed her, most women who had their ovaries removed, and every other one of their female parts, slammed directly into menopause, leaving them without the vital hormones the body had been accustomed to since the onset of puberty. This often caused a single episode of panic. Nothing that would come back, the nurse, and Courtney’s subsequent research, had assured her. Her mother had been the one to sign the release forms. Next of kin, of course. And she reminded Courtney that two of her aunts had died from ovarian cancer. One was a great aunt, and Courtney had many living aunts, but she saw her mother’s point. If they were going in, might as well take it all.

She brought the drinks in and handed Edward his. Then she sat on the opposite end of the sofa. It was a very long sofa. She had probably bought it thinking of Edward’s legs stretched out on it. The subconscious was a tricky thing.

“So.” He looked at her glass of wine. She remembered how she had not sipped even that one glass that first day. She’d done research on that too, trying to find a reason to blame herself for the miscarriage and the ensuing hysterectomy. “I’m sorry you lost the baby.”

“It’s okay. Wasn’t meant to be.” She swallowed a demure sip.

“Who knows? You might have another some day.”

“No. That part of my life is over.” She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t say the words.

“Now, Court…” He set his glass of water carefully on a coaster and was by her side, holding her, in an instant. “If that’s what you want…”

She wasn’t sure she heard him right, but the story of the surgical removal of her female organs came tumbling out just the same. She sobbed into his checked shirt. It smelled like starch, just a little bit. She wiped her tears with her hands and reached for a tissue to finish the job.

“Sorry. I still get emotional about it all.”

“I hope you don’t blame yourself.”

“Only off and on, every five minutes.”

“Shhh. You shouldn’t.”

He continued to hold her and she put her head on his shoulder. It felt so right. “I know I shouldn’t, but I do. I think about the lie I told.” Then she told him about her anxiety issues, about the panic attacks, and the phobias. He just hugged her tighter. He kissed the side of her face, right at the temple.

“I don’t care about that.” He stopped and was silent a beat. “I do care, but I know you’ll work it out. You always do.”

“Yeah, I’ve got a plan, and I’m doing good. I just have to accept myself for who I am and not try to be somebody…”

“Oh please, honey, stay who you are! I love you. Who cares if you’re a little shy in large groups? Think I didn’t know that?”

“Really? You did?” She pretended to smack his arm. “You never said.”

“Lots of stuff I never said. Eighteen years worth. I’ll start making up for all that time right now if you’ll say yes.”

Courtney didn’t know what she was supposed to agree to, and Edward must have seen that on her face. “I’m not saying let’s get married or anything like that.”

“Oh.” She felt a pang.

“Because we’re already married. You forget?” He lifted her chin and their gazes locked.

“The papers…”

“Never sent. Let’s burn ’em.”

She felt sweet relief rush through her.

“I want to be married to you forever.”

“Me too. I want that, too.” She did, more than anything.

“There’s just one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Could I have that dining room there as a music room, maybe with a television and a leather chair for watching the game?”

“What game?” She wondered when he was planning on moving in.

“Oh, there’s always a game. Tigers. Red Wings. Pistons. Lions.” He paused. “Unless you want to move into the glass house?”

“No. It’s too small for three.”

“Well, then let me lease you an office in town because this place is too small for clients who may have issues.”

Wow. Whoa. She hadn’t even gotten that far yet.

“We can take it slow. I won’t order the leather chair until you feel like you want me here.”

She didn’t care about holding in anything anymore. She jumped on his lap and kissed him on the mouth. They kissed a long time, and then she said, “Stay.” And he did.

A word about the author…

Prolific author Cynthia Harrison edges closer to mystery with this third in a series featuring a lakeside tourist town in Northern Michigan.

Harrison has been published widely in print, penning poetry, book reviews for top trade magazines, and short memoirs in anthologies. Her essays on writing and other topics have appeared online since 2002 at
www.cynthiaharrison.com
.

A former creative writing teacher at her local community college, Harrison wrote her first book (and her only non-fiction title) for her students.

http://www.cynthiaharrison.com

Thank you for purchasing
this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.