Authors: Karen Barnett
Chapter
41
D
aniel sat helpless, watching Laurie grapple with her emotions in
the hospital waiting room. He wanted to pull her into his arms, but she resembled an agitated porcupine.
Johnny paced the floor, apparently ready to bolt if someone so much as looked at him wrong.
Daniel blew a long stream of air between his lips. If only they could have gotten to Ray before he’d sampled his wares. He dropped his head into his hands, suddenly understanding his grandfather’s philosophy.
Laurie’s luminous gaze remained locked on the door through which her father had disappeared, her hands clenching and unclenching in her lap.
“I’m going back to the house to finish cleaning up the . . . the mess,” Johnny scowled. “Just in case.”
Laurie glared at him, crimson lips curling back from her teeth. “Is that all you can think about? Saving your skin?”
Johnny took a step forward, lines forming around his eyes. “I can’t stay here. I’m going crazy.”
“We all are.”
Daniel stood, hesitant to step between the battling siblings. “Your place is here, Johnny. What if the worst happens?”
“Then there ain’t much I can do, is there?”
“Just let him leave, Daniel,” Laurie said, dropping back into her seat. “It’s what he does. He runs away and leaves me to pick up the pieces.”
Johnny squeezed his fingers into a fist. “And I’m the one who does all the dirty work to keep the family intact.”
Laurie breathed out. “Dirty work is right. That’s all you know how to do.”
Daniel saw Johnny surge forward and stepped to intercept him. Their shoulders collided with a crunch. Gripping Johnny’s elbows, he steered him toward the door. “That’s enough. Go home. Do what you have to do.”
Johnny shook himself free and jabbed a finger in Laurie’s direction. “If he dies, this’ll be your fault. You’re the one who made me stop bringing him the clean stuff.” His eyes showed red around the edges. “Your fault—you hear me?”
Fire scorched through Daniel. Grabbing Johnny’s shirt, he yanked him through the doorway and out onto the sidewalk, sending Johnny stumbling backward. “Don’t say something you’re going to regret.”
Johnny spit on the ground. “Regret’s my middle name.”
Hot tears spilled down Laurie’s face as the truth of Johnny’s words echoed in her head. The room spun and she lowered her face into her hands. Ten years without a mother and soon she’d be fatherless, too, all because she wanted him to be more than he was. Why was she so selfish?
God, I know he’s a hopeless drunk, but he’s my dad.
She pressed a handkerchief against her lips.
A gentle hand touched her knee. Daniel crouched on his heels in front of her. She fell against his chest.
He rocked back slightly, adjusting for her weight. “You didn’t do this.”
“Yes,” she gulped, “I did. I wanted him to quit drinking, but he couldn’t. I wanted him to be like everyone else’s fathers. Why couldn’t I just love him as he was?”
Daniel slipped his hand under her chin and lifted it. His brow furrowed. “You wanted the best for him. He’s an adult, so he makes his own choices. You didn’t pour that stuff down his throat.”
She pushed down the surge of sorrow boiling up from her gut. “I might as well have.”
He sighed and got to his feet. Sitting in the next chair, he pulled her close.
A nurse entered the room, silver hair glistening under her white cap, her cheeks wrinkled pouches that sagged over her jaw. She tapped a pen against her clipboard. “Burke?”
Daniel stood, gripping Laurie’s hand. “Over here.”
The nurse frowned, a crease pinching between her eyes, and walked over to them. She glanced down at her paper. “You the son?”
Laurie lifted her head. “I’m his daughter.”
The nurse shot a disinterested glance at Laurie before turning to address Daniel. “Mr. Burke is stable for now. There’s nothing else we can do but wait. If he makes it through the night, you can see him in the morning.”
Laurie sagged against Daniel’s arm.
“Can we speak to the doctor?” Daniel asked.
The woman shot him a dark look. “In the morning.”
Chapter
42
J
ohnny jammed a last armful of pipes into the Ford as Daniel
leaned over the main boiler with a hacksaw. They had dragged the metal apparatus into the backyard and worked on it by lantern light. Daniel resolved to whittle it into the smallest pieces possible.
He stopped and brushed the sweat away from his eyes. “What are you going to do with this stuff, anyway?”
Johnny shrugged. “Dump it in the bay, probably. Or out in the woods. Somewhere no one will find it.”
“What about the barrels, the wood alcohol?”
Turning back to face him, Johnny sighed. “Not sure. I hate the idea of dumping that stuff in the Straits. It can’t be any better for the fish than it was for the old man.”
“Can you return it to the mill?”
“Maybe I can leave them by the back delivery gate. Someone will spot them in the morning.”
Daniel braced his foot against a log bench and lifted the saw. It made a horrible rasping sound as it slashed through the metal sides of the still. He glanced up at Laurie’s window. The noise could wake the dead, but he hoped she might get some rest, anyway.
Johnny picked up a few of the pieces that had fallen at Daniel’s feet. “One more secret for Laurie to try and cover up.”
“The still?”
Johnny scoffed. “You—spending the night at her house.”
The strain of the day left Daniel little patience for humor. “You really need to watch your mouth. I’ve been within an inch of clobbering you tonight.”
Johnny threw the metal into the back of the Ford. “What’s stopping you? You owe me one, if I’m not mistaken.” He hooked his thumbs through his suspenders. “Unless you just figure you’re a better man than me.”
Daniel grunted as he pushed the saw.
“That’s it, ain’t it? You’re the high-and-mighty saint and I’m the miserable sinner. It’s no wonder Laurie’s fallen for you. She’s always wanted a hero.”
Daniel threw down the tool and jammed a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. “You don’t know anything about me, Johnny, so why don’t you just can it?”
“Come make me, college boy.”
Daniel rounded on him. “What is it with you? Why are you itching for a fight?”
Johnny stepped forward. “I need to know you’re willing to stand up for her. That you’re not going to turn and run out on her when things get tough.”
Heat rushing up his neck, Daniel stood tall. “I’m here now, aren’t I? You think things are going to get worse than this?”
Johnny chuckled, retrieved the saw and picked up the sheet of metal. “I think you don’t got a clue.”
Laurie twisted in bed, the sheets winding around her legs. She hadn’t bothered to undress. Somehow, knowing that Daniel and Johnny were working in the backyard, it didn’t feel right.
She rolled to her side and stared at the shadowed wall. Her muscles ached with the tension and her ears hurt from listening for the telephone. The only sounds that reached her room were the banging and sawing in the backyard.
The neighbors must be livid. And dying of curiosity.
Laurie closed her eyes, her mind racing through the images from the day: her father lying face down in the grass, choking in the bed, disappearing through the hospital doors. She lifted her hands and pushed them against her forehead.
A hot tear squeezed between her eyelids and rolled down her temple and into her hair. At least Daniel stayed at her side.
My one honest man.
Chapter
43
L
aurie blinked open scratchy eyes, squinting at the yellow light
spilling in her window. She rolled onto her back and stretched, the muscles in her limbs stiff, as if she’d spent the entire night in one position rather than the hours of tossing and turning. She reached for the bedside clock and squinted at the numbers. At least she’d gotten an hour of sleep.
Climbing out of bed, Laurie pulled on fresh clothes, frowned at her reflection, and stole through the silent house. The sour smell lingered in the morning air, but the floor had been scrubbed clean, the furniture arranged as if nothing unusual had taken place.
After checking each room, Laurie peeked out the window, scanning the yard for signs of life. Daniel’s Buick sat in the place of the Ford. She draped a sweater over her shoulders and hurried outside.
Daniel slept slumped over in the back seat, wrapped in the red-and-white-checkered picnic blanket. A lock of dark hair draped across his forehead, one arm pillowing his head.
After his long night, the man deserved a decent breakfast. Laurie tiptoed through the damp grass until she reached the back steps. What would the neighbors think of Laurie having a man over for breakfast? She tossed her head. Why should she care?
When the telephone jangled, Laurie scooped it up, pressing the receiver to her ear with a shaking hand.
“Miss Burke—your father is awake.”
Laurie pressed her fingers against her lips, forcing herself to stay silent while Dr. Pierce finished his examination. Her father’s yellowed eyes focused somewhere over the doctor’s left shoulder, his face the color of cold fireplace ashes.
Doctor Pierce loomed over the bed like a vulture. “Mr. Burke, I believe I was right to revoke your prescription.”
He turned and directed his words at Laurie. “Your father’s situation is precarious.” He glanced down at the clipboard in his hand. “It’s going to be a difficult few days as the poison works its way out of his system.
If
his liver and kidneys hold up, he just might get through.” He lowered his glasses peering over their top edge. “This time. But there’s going to be lasting damage. Another episode would be fatal.”
Laurie pressed a knuckle against her lip, hoping her father understood the doctor’s message.
Doctor Pierce turned back to her father, gesturing with his pen. “You need to give up the bottle, Mr. Burke. Your liver won’t stand any more. And there’s absolutely no question about the moonshine.”
Laurie cleared her throat. “Thank you, Dr. Pierce. I’ll keep an eye on him.”
“You’re a lucky man to have a daughter who loves you. Listen to her.”
Dad turned his face to the wall.
Daniel dragged himself up the steep stairs leading to his second-story apartment over the drugstore, the long day and night finally behind him. The morning rays drifted through the tall windows, gleaming across the polished hardwood floors.
The clammy night air clung to Daniel’s skin even as he fell into bed, drawing the covers up to his chin. The muscles of his back ached from the hour-long catnap curled up in the backseat of the automobile. The petty complaints paled in comparison to the nightmarish images haunting his dream, images that refused to be forgotten.
Daniel rolled to his side, balling the pillow under his ear and clamping his eyes shut, hoping to chase away the flashes of dreams. The taste of gin lingered in his mouth, as real as if he had actually tipped a bottle, the booze burning down the back of his throat and pooling in his gut.
He rolled out of the bed and fell to the floor, sweat glazing his skin. Pulling up to his knees, Daniel laid his hands and face against the mattress.
I can’t take the chance of doing that to her, God. I can’t.