Pecked to Death (2 page)

Luke Sawyer wished cell phones had never been invented. What did kids use to interrupt class when he was a teenager? He couldn’t remember—a sign of how old he was. Wearily he put down his pen and stood. The students at the back of the room were so engrossed in watching whatever was on their phone—a phone that cost twice as much as the one Luke owned, to say nothing of the monthly data plan—that they didn’t notice him until he was towering over them. They looked up, but there was no alarm in their expressions, only amusement.

“Mr. Sawyer, you gotta see this. It’s hilarious,” Tyler B. said. He turned the phone around. The first thing Luke saw was a woman’s behind—a clear violation of the school’s indecency policy. Then the face and voice caught his attention and he stared unabashedly, his mouth slack from the shock. Why was Sadie Cooper’s naked behind on television?

“She like had no idea she was flashing everyone,” Tyler B. answered his unasked question. “Look, they cut away from her and she still doesn’t know why. She was like totally fired, too.”

“Good,” Luke said before he could stop himself. The boys blinked up at him, probably surprised by his surly tone. “I mean she messed up and got what she deserved, which is exactly what is going to happen here if you two don’t put away the phone and concentrate on your work.” He put on his teacher face, glad it had become second nature to him after so many years of teaching high school. It was the perfect foil to hide anything he might be thinking or feeling, such as the mixed emotions of seeing Sadie Cooper’s fanny on television before learning she had been heartlessly fired. He tried and failed to feel bad about that.
Good,
he thought instead.
I hope she’s wallowing in mortification.

Luke was a mild-mannered, peace-loving individual. He didn’t hate anyone. Except Sadie Cooper. Her he loathed. She deserved every bad thing that was coming to her, and then some.

A few hours later, the last period of the day, his own cell phone buzzed, alerting him to a text. He glanced around the class full of test-taking teenagers, propped a book in front of him, and hunched low over the desk to read his text. It was from his mother. There were only three words, but they were ominous enough to make Luke grip the edge of his desk for support. “Sadie’s coming home.”

He should have predicted as much when Aunt Abby died, but he had convinced himself that Sadie was too far removed to feel anything over the death. Maybe the fact that she wasn’t meant Sadie wasn’t as heartless and shallow as he believed her to be. Then he thought of the video of her skirt flipped over her pantyhose and snorted a laugh. Nah, Sadie was as shallow and heartless as a great white shark. She might be coming home, but it wouldn’t be to remember Aunt Abby. Whatever she was doing, it was no doubt for herself.

After a miserable night of wasted tears, Sadie began to pull herself together. Perhaps Aunt Abby’s untimely passing was a blessing in disguise, devastating as it was. Going home would provide her with the opportunity to figure out her next step. Of course it also meant facing all the unpleasantness of the life she left behind, but she could handle that for a few days. Couldn’t she?

Normally the answer would be yes. She could survive her father and…others…for a night or two. But now wasn’t a normal time. Not only would she be mourning Aunt Abby, but her defenses were low. At least no one would know the humiliation she had suffered in Nebraska. She could go home to Virginia and recover in relative obscurity.

Her heart was heavy as she packed up her few belongings. She couldn’t believe Aunt Abby was gone. Aunt Abby who had been Sadie’s guiding light for so much of her life. How could this have happened? When was the last time they spoke? Far too long, in Sadie’s opinion.

At last her things were packed and her car was loaded. Now there was nothing to do but decide whether or not to come back. She stood, surveying her miniscule apartment in a slow circle. She loved this place. Tiny though it was, it had been hers. She knew each nook and cranny, knew how to get the most out of the small space she had to work with. But was her apartment worth coming back for? Was anything?
Rick,
her traitorous heart answered. There was a part of her that was tempted to call him and ask for a second chance, but her remaining shred of pride held her back. Rick was gone, her job was gone. She might as well face it—her life was gone.

With quivering lips and dry eyes, she closed the door to her apartment and headed to her car for one last drive to Virginia, to home.

She drove until her blinks became too long, and then she stopped to sleep in her car at a rest area in Indiana. Crashing into an exhausted heap, she still slept fitfully and woke at dawn for another day of hard driving. The letter hadn’t said when Aunt Abby’s funeral was being held. Sadie didn’t want to miss it. She wanted, no, needed to pay her respects to the woman who had been her surrogate grandmother in so many ways. The long drive gave Sadie plenty of time to calculate how long it had been since she spoke to Aunt Abby—exactly three weeks. Just twenty one days ago, Aunt Abby had sounded like the picture of health and good cheer, as always. And, as always, she dispensed advice on Sadie’s life as if Sadie had asked for her opinion. It was a sign of their close bond that Sadie sometimes listened.

It had been Aunt Abby who told Sadie how to grab Rick’s attention—an irony since Aunt Abby had never been married. But she possessed a keen sense about what made people tick, and she had a talent for rottenness and subterfuge—just one of many things the two women had in common. And now she was gone. Tears pricked at Sadie’s eyes and she dashed them away. Crying while driving was dangerous, but she couldn’t give in for another reason. If she gave in now and started to cry, she might never stop. She needed her wits about her to survive her homecoming. The way to do that wasn’t with tears. No one in Virginia knew of her disgrace. If she had her way, they would never find out. As far as anyone back home was concerned, this was a social visit and not one borne of desperation because she had nowhere else to go.

The porch light wasn’t on when she pulled into the home where she had spent the first eighteen years of her life. The lack of welcome was indicative of her relationship with her intractable father. He could probably make the argument that she hadn’t called to let him know she was coming, but she had done him one better—she had called Maddie Sawyer, their longtime neighbor and go-between. Maddie would have told him Sadie was coming home. Maddie would have told
everyone
that Sadie was coming home.

The door was locked. There was always the chance that Gideon Cooper might have changed the locks, but he hadn’t. Sadie’s key fit perfectly and granted immediate access, something that should have brought relief instead of additional anxiety.

“Dad,” she called. “I’m home.”

There was no answer. The silence was the type that told her the house was empty.
That
brought more relief than anxiety. Sadie had just carried her last bag through the door when her phone rang. She smiled as she checked the caller ID. No doubt Maddie Sawyer had been waiting and watching for her arrival, even if her father hadn’t.

“Hi, Maddie,” Sadie said.

“Hey, Sadie,” Maddie said. “Welcome home, sweetheart. We’re having a little get together here. Why don’t you come over? Your dad is here.”

Sadie bit her lip. As much as she loved Maddie and her husband, Tom, she wasn’t ready to face her father in such a public setting. Or anyone else, for that matter. “Um,” she began, but Maddie headed her off at the pass.

“I bet you haven’t eaten. There’s food here, and we’re talking about Aunt Abby, sort of a makeshift wake.”

“So the f-funeral hasn’t happened yet?” Sadie asked.

“Of course not, honey. We wouldn’t do that without you.”

The rush of tears pricked her eyes and, once again, Sadie pushed them back. If everyone offered as much gentle love and support as Maddie Sawyer, the world would be a better place. “I’ll be over in a few minutes, Maddie. Just let me freshen up.”

“I can’t imagine you ever looking bad, sweetie. See you in a few.”

When Sadie inspected herself in the mirror, she thought Maddie might change her opinion. There were mascara smears under her eyes, her hair had a few flyaways, but otherwise she looked presentable. At least to someone who didn’t know her well and wouldn’t look too closely. If there was one thing Sadie had learned over the years, it was how to construct her outward appearance in order to camouflage what was happening in her heart. By this point, she could take a beating and still present a perfect pageant smile. But would that smile fool those who had known her since she was a child? There was a part of her that hoped so, and a part of her that didn’t.

If Aunt Abby were here, Sadie would pour out her heart with a copious amount of tears to boot. Aunt Abby had always had a lot of patience for what she termed Sadie’s “passionate nature.” “There’s nothing wrong with being emotional,” Aunt Abby was fond of saying. “As long as you learn how to channel it so it works for you.” Crying to get her way in a room full of men was acceptable. Crying to show the world how much she was hurting was not.

Sadie smoothed her hair, reapplied her makeup, and changed into something less rumpled. Then there was nothing left to do but make the short walk to the neighbor’s. She studiously kept her eyes forward, not allowing herself to see Aunt Abby’s darkened Victorian mansion, the only house between Sadie’s father and the Sawyers. If the three neighbors lived anywhere else, they probably wouldn’t be friends. Proximity had forged bonds that commonality hadn’t. If circumstances had been different, the Sawyers, Aunt Abby, and the Coopers wouldn’t have had anything to do with each other. As it was, they were family.

She reached the house and let herself in. Unlike her father’s abode, this one was blazing with light and the door was unlocked. The smell that greeted her was as familiar as her own scent and she smiled, feeling automatically soothed. By the time she reached the crowded kitchen, her smile was genuine.

There was so much buzz and activity in the kitchen that it took a few seconds for anyone to notice Sadie. When they did, the noise and excitement ratcheted up to ear-splitting levels. Maddie squealed and threw a leek in the air before twisting backwards to catch it again. “Sadie!” she exclaimed. She tossed the leek into the sink and dashed forward, wiping her hands on the towel tucked in her waist. “What are you doing trying to sneak in here?” Maddie threw her arms around Sadie and squeezed. Sadie returned the embrace, closing her eyes as a wave of homesickness washed over her. She had stayed away far too long from people she loved and who loved her in return.

One of the reasons for that sat at the table in the corner, nursing a cold bottle of Coke. “Sadie,” her father said, tipping his soda in her direction. If Aunt Abby had been there, she would have said, “Good grief, Gideon. She’s your daughter. Get up and give the child a hug.” Everyone who was present lacked the nerve to chastise Gideon Cooper, however, so he remained seated, eyeing his only child with a look that spoke volumes.

“Dad,” Sadie said, nodding politely in his direction. Breaking free of her father’s inspection, she stood on her toes to hug Tom Sawyer, Maddie’s husband. The notoriety of his name hadn’t registered for Sadie and Luke until their fifth grade introduction to Mark Twain. Then it had been she who provided kids with another reason to make fun of them.
Hey, Luke, this guy’s name is Tom Sawyer! Just like your dad,
she had hissed from across the room. Of course everyone heard and burst into hysterical giggles. For the rest of the year, everyone had called them Becky and Huck.

The kitchen was crowded with other neighbors who, though friends, had never become as closely linked as the Sawyers and the Coopers. There were Mr. and Mrs. Kaplan from around the corner, Misty and Johnny Robbins from across the street. Sadie used to babysit for their twins when she was a teen. Beside her father sat Doctor Jones who looked one day from retirement and two days from death. Sadie had always thought he and Aunt Abby had a mutual crush. They had been friends forever, and Abby called him
Jonesy.
Last but not least were the Warrens. For a while when Sadie was a teenager, they had caused a scandal by separating and reuniting no less than a dozen times. Sadie had no trouble figuring out why. Mr. Warren was one of those older men who had made her and her friends uncomfortable with his overt and unwanted attention. Even now he was ogling her like she might be on the dessert menu.

Still, Sadie said hello to each of them, swirling around the group like the long-lost celebrity she was. Oddly, no one mentioned her job or working on television. Perhaps, like her, they were consumed with grief and thoughts for Aunt Abby. Still, the lack of any mention of her personal life made her nervous because it was so out of character for the assembled group.

The scent of hamburger casserole was redolent in the air when Maddie turned to bellow over her shoulder. “Lucas! Supper!”