Read The Truth About Mallory Bain Online
Authors: Clare Hexom
“Mallory.” Ronnie held me back. “It's time. Call Aunt Judith.”
T
he spirit revealed more that night. Perhaps my being more open-minded and accepting of his existence was starting to pay off. Before leaving, his newspaper dropped onto the bed. I stretched to retrieve it, only to have my fingertips fall short, barely brushing the edge. In the brilliant light from the hallway, I made out part of the day and date: “Sunday, Ma . . . 13, 20 . . .” Good clues but insignificant on their own. An article might provide answers, but the paper dissipated into dust when I tried to grab hold.
While Caleb finished dressing for school, I pulled on my scrubs and ran a brush through my hair. The dates stuck firmly in my mind. I jogged downstairs, socks in hand, and sat down on a chair in the dining room.
Ben died May 25. A Friday. I recalled other Mays and Marches beginning with the year two thousand. Nothing memorable, ominous, or prophetic jumped out at me. A few dates had been eventful in a way, weddings or birthdays in Chad's family but nothing in mine. High school and college graduations since then, but in June. The month of March held the least meaning.
I counted forward from May thirteenth, twelve days to the twenty-fifth. I wanted to believe this spirit was connected to Ben. I needed to remember if anything significant happened twelve days before Ben died. We buried Grandma after he died. Mom and I drove to Duluth the Sunday before he died.
Mom stepped into the dining room from the kitchen. “I can drive this morning.”
I zipped up Caleb's backpack. “I'm early for a change.” I slipped a hair binder around my ponytail and clipped the ponytail up
behind my head. “You driving him always helps, and I don't tell you enough how much I appreciate all that you do. I love you, Mom.”
“I love you too, babygirl. You're kind of quiet this morning.”
“I'm all right.”
She picked up Caleb's plate and juice glass from the table and took them to the sink. “Carl wants to head down to Iowa to visit his brother and sister-in-law one of these weekends.”
“Maybe see some fall color.”
“He says they make their own cider. And we can split a bushel of apples for pies if we want. I hate leaving you and Caleb alone, though.”
“I never mind you spending time with your friends. You and Carl go. Have a nice trip.”
Mom grinned. “I will, then.” She set a half mug of coffee on the counter for me.
When I brought the mug to my mouth and took a sip, I saw Caleb jumping into the kitchen through the dining room doorway. He stopped jumping and sauntered toward us carrying a rolled newspaper tucked under his arm.
“Four little monkeys jumping on the bed.
One fell off and whacked his head.
Mama called the doctor and the doctor said,
âGoddamn monkey jumping on the bed!'”
“Caleb Anthony!”
He dropped the paper and stared straight ahead.
“You never use words like that. It's swearing and it's wrong.”
He wrinkled his face, cupped his mouth, and giggled. He spun around and ran out of the room.
“How strange,” said Mom. “He sure got your attention.” She picked up the newspaper. “It's today's. I'll drop it off with Ed on our way out.” She faced me. “Mallory. Mallory! You're daydreaming again.”
Caleb's behavior and his strange rhyme distracted me. His changing the words and the words he chose to substitute troubled me.
“He certainly did get my attention. You know, I dreamt about newspapers and when he walked inâoh, well, just a dream.”
“I hope not a bad dream. You need vitamins. Ask Dana to recommend something. She's into supplements and natural remedies.”
“She is. Herbs, oils, supplements, whatever nature offers, I guess.” A hunch, a germ of an abstract notion caused me to pause. However, whatever notion seemed important failed to break through. “I should check on him before I leave. He'll look forward to you picking him up after school.”
“Good. I'll take him to and from today. You go on to work. And eat a healthy lunch; no fast food.”
The bizarre incidents we kept having were getting out of hand, affecting his behavior, making him turn a good rhyme wicked. He sat at the dining room table coloring quickly, swinging his feet back and forth, matching the speed of his hand.
I took the chair beside him. “I want you to forget about monkeys for a while. The rhyme, too.”
“I like it.”
“I'd like to hear other songs you know.”
“No.”
“Changing the words upsets me.”
“Sorry.”
“Maybe you change the words because Halloween is next month.”
He growled.
“Don't growl. You're not an animal.”
“Sadie growls.”
“Sadie is a dog. She can growl if she wants. Swearing aside, Caleb, we'll get to that in a minute. Tell me why you rolled the newspaper under your arm.”
“Can monkeys growl?” He hesitated. “I had to.”
“You did not have to growl.”
“No. The newspaper. He said do it.”
“Who said?”
“The man sitting on the top step.”
“The steps going to our bedrooms?”
Caleb bowed his head. “He said my dad will understand.”
âWill' meant future. Ben had none, and there was no way I'd ever give Chad a future with us. I rose from my chair and strolled through the living room to the bottom of the staircase. I looked up. No one was there. No one alive, no one dead. Whatever strangeness Caleb imagined, it was twisting his mind. I needed to decide whether to accuse Aunt Judith or consult her.
As long as the warm weather continued throughout the following week, I took Caleb for bike rides whenever possible. He needed fresh air. Staying indoors gave him too much time alone to dream up bizarre words to a rhyme he needed to forget.
My old ten-speed lay buried deep within the bowels of Mom's garage. Retrieving it proved to be a backbreaking task the few times I did try. I gave up in frustration, leaving the chore for another day despite Caleb's protests. Mom slipped on the ice and broke her leg three years earlier. After she healed, she bought and rode a step-through bike for exercise. Caleb teased me for looking like Grandma, but I ignored him and rode her bike anyway.
Not that he mattered to me anymore, but the man on the red motorcycle sped past us one afternoon. When he did a doubletake, he almost jumped the curb. Fortunately, I had on one of Mom's hats and passed for her when he saw me. I preferred resembling a grandma instead of letting a good-looking man, as Pam Egger reputed him to be, see me riding the grandma bike. I made a mental note to get into the garage and dig out my bike for a few rides around Lake of the Isles before winter.
Lance phoned or texted at least once a day. We saw each other often, spending hours over coffee, making time for lunch, or hanging out with Caleb. I was already liking Lance Garner far more
than I thought I would or should, and I was tempted to speed up my snail's pace. I agreed to his offer to bring dinner and a movie for the two us to watch Friday night after Caleb went to bed.
Mom visited Judith that evening. She warned me ahead of time that she'd be home by twelve because Carl was picking her up early in the morning for their trip to Iowa.
Caleb wandered back downstairs wanting a glass of milk. I allowed him a short visit with Lance before scooting him back to bed.
“I'm surprised you accepted Dana's dinner invitation for tomorrow,” said Lance.
I sat down beside him on the sofa. “She wants to make up for the disappointing dinner I had last time. She pushed, so I said yes.”
“I detect regret.”
“Mixed feelings, but I did say no at first. I haven't really heard much from her lately. I thought she might be bored with me.”
“You could never be boring.”
“You're sweet.”
“I know.” He stretched out his arm over the back of the sofa. “You did a good job sticking up for them even after their dessert made you sick.” His fingers gently stroked my hair down to my shoulder. “I'm going tomorrow for your sake, you know.”
“We don't know the dessert made me sick.” I leaned closer. “And I'd hate to go alone. Good to know gallantry is alive and well these days.”
“It's a Garner thing,” he laughed.
“Lucky me.”
“We're suckers for pretty women.” He touched his lips gently against my forehead and spoke softly, “One as lovely as you is definitely worth subjecting myself to another Fowler evening. Let's ride together. I'll pick you and Caleb up, if you'd like.”
“I'd like.” I nestled closer. “Except we're out of your way.”
“You are more or less on my way. Two evenings in a row with me is too much, maybe.”
I nestled closer still. “Never. Besides, Erik is cooking. What harm can come of it?”
He wrapped his arms around me and held me close. “You are one brave woman, Mallory Bain.”
“Dinner will be fine. I ate mushrooms that were a gastrointestinal irritant. Not fatal. Thank heavens. My mother said the mushrooms caused the bitter taste.”
He shifted to face me. He fingered the lock of hair falling across my cheek. “We need to question which food contained the killer mushrooms.”
“The takeout. I would call the health department if I knew for sure. Mom called the restaurant, which I asked her not to do. They promised to check into it and said no one else reported sickness.”
“They wouldn't admit to serving poison mushrooms.” He leaned back. “I checked with Travis. He thought everyone else from the party was fine. Neither of us knows how Ryan Collins fared, except I got the girl.” He kissed me quick and grinned.
“Don't do that.”
“Do what?”
“Make a cute face. I'm a sucker for cuteness.”
“Cuteness?” His grin widened.
“Tell me why you suspect Dana's food. I suppose you've pegged her a cold-blooded killer.”
“She disguises her horns and pitchfork well, don't you think?” He leaned back and paused thoughtfully.
“You really do despise her.”
“It's not that I enjoy thinking badly. I have never liked her. In all honesty, Mallory, I've been thinking badly about both of them.”
“Interesting.”
“I talked myself into that party, soirée, or whatever she intended it to be. I'd worked out several excuses in my head never to see them again.”
“Because?”
“Oh. Odd comments here and there. And you're right. They are pushy. Our places aren't geographically desirable for either of us, yet Erik always finds reason for me to drive to Plymouth instead of him driving to St. Paul. Selfish. Both of them are.”
“Then they've become selfish or I never noticed in college.”
“You were maybe focused on other things.”
Those other things which drew my attention away from my friends. Ben topped the list. Remembering Dana, the picture of a lovely girl and how Erik's glum face brightened when he looked at her before he left Chad's last party. They might not be the people I once knew, or my memories were flawed.
Lance stroked my arm with his forefinger. “Tomorrow is my last night with them.”
“I might break off gradually, but feel free to go cold turkey.”
He lifted my chin and kissed me. His other hand gently pressed against my back. I melted into his embrace and lingered a long while.
“He isn't who you want.”
I leaned back, drew in a breath.
Lance propped his elbow on the back of the sofa. “Enough?”
“Hardly.”
He glanced at the staircase and nodded. “Bad idea with your munchkin upstairs, and a contradiction to the snail's pace dictum you decreed.”
“Nice you respect my son, and me, too.” My heart warmed at having the good fortune to meet such a sweet-natured man. “I am glad you are willing to respect my decree, even if at the moment I'm willing to ignore it and let nature rule.”
“I promised. No pressure.” He sat back against the sofa.
I sat back, too, and nestled close to him again. “I've been alone too long, even when I wasn't.”
“Same here. I always turn down set-ups or blind dates, but the moment I saw you, Mallory, I knew I hit the jackpot. Then when you got sick, I worried . . .” he paused.
“You worried I might die.”
“Yes.” His eyes met mine.
I rested my hand against his face and we kissed again and enfolded ourselves around each other until headlights brightened the draperies.
“Time's up, beautiful.” He eased himself off the sofa. When I stood beside him, he pulled me close. “We might consider Sunday. The two of us at my place. I do cook occasionally.”
“Well,” my smile fixed upon my face. “Depends on the menu.”
He kissed me again. “I better head out before Mom barges through the door and catches me beguiling her daughter.”