Maternal Harbor (17 page)

Erica hated how Grandma always held in her feelings, never allowed her thoughts to flow in word or action, always afraid to say or do the wrong thing or bring attention.  I could’ve taught her how to stand firm, showed her how to stare down idiots into a pile of mush, guided her to unafraid emotions – ones that could hit first and tell Daddy about Mother’s dirty little secrets.

Erica stomped on the gas pedal and shot from the garage.  Two black squiggly marks on the pavement reflected in the rear view mirror.

Doretta pushed through the back gate of her family home.  The small cornflower blue house drew constant glances, some with smiles, some with dismay.  Florene braved all complaints with an attitude of tolerance; however, the color stayed.  “Makes me feel special living in a color so bright,” she told her girls many times.

“And it doesn’t hurt you girls to live tight.”  And it didn’t.  Neither Doretta nor her four sisters suffered any lasting damage from sharing a bedroom and bath, although that was one reason Doretta cherished being single.  When she grew tired of a man hanging around, she simply booted him out and reclaimed her bathroom.

Although her mother manicured the front yard, mud surrounded patches of grass in the back.  Doretta sidestepped the gooey places.  Inside the kitchen, yeasty bread dough rose in a crock on the table and beef stew simmered on the gas range.  An old wood stove, kept for comfort among the new appliances, sat in one corner on a stone hearth, her mother’s creaky rocker beside it.  Doretta set Levi’s carrier on the floor and sank into the chair.  This time she hugged herself, gently rocking.  Her eyes roamed the room as she soaked up the feeling of safety.  A framed snapshot of her and her sisters sat on the top shelf of a wrought iron baker’s rack.  She wondered which one was their mother’s favorite.  Not me, she thought.  But darn, right now, she needed to be; she needed some good old fashioned sympathy.

“I’m sorry your friend died,” Florene said from the doorway.

“
Me too, but right now I’m trying to rid myself of the hassle I just saw Teagan go through at CPS.”

Florene harrumphed.  “That place is full of long noses and hard heads.”

“I still don’t understand why, but it was like someone pulled strings until Teagan convinced an officious broad to call Detective Lutavosky.  He had contacted the shipping company and Duffy is on his way home.  Jimmy is at Teagan’s now.

Florene’s face beamed with a wide, toothy smile.  “That does my heart good.”

Levi stretched, drawing the two women’s attention.

Florene crossed to him.  “What did your mom do?  Just left you on the floor like an old worn out shoe?  Shame on her.”  She gathered him into her arms and perched on her high stool at the counter.  “He’s grown since yesterday.”

“
He should.  He eats enough to feed ten babies.”

“
Girl, you’re late for work.  You better get off your bottom if you wanna buy enough food for the next heavyweight champion.”

“
I am.  I am.”  Doretta continued to sit, rocking gently, keeping the rhythm of the squeaks to mimic her mother rocking the baby sisters.  It was the song of the kitchen, like yeast was the aroma, and beef stew the flavor.

“
What’s the matter?”  Florene asked, but continued to cluck at Levi and didn’t glance at her daughter.

Feeling like her mother enjoyed playing with the baby more than listening, Doretta muttered, “I think I’m tired of living alone.”

“Marry Levi’s daddy, whoever he is.  I bet he’s pestering you too.”

Satisfied she now owned the attention, Doretta asked, “Why do you think marriage is the answer?  You’ve spent most of your life alone.”

“Your father is just a phone call away.  Who do you have?”

“
You.”

“
You want to move back home?”

Doretta laughed.  “Don’t look so scared.  Me and Levi are fine where we are.”

Florene exhaled a long exaggerated sigh.  “Gal, you scared me to death.  Sissie just moved back.”

“
Really?  I thought she was all grown up.”

“
Rent’s too much now that Dahlia got married.”

“
Just can’t get rid of us, can you?”

“
Lordie, I try.”  Florene balanced Levi in one arm and punched the bread dough down.  “Working takes the mind off sad things.”

“
You’re right.  Sitting in your chair moping isn’t gonna bring Pai back.”  Doretta wrapped her arms around herself again and shivered.  “How could anyone murder her?”

“
Question only what you can change.”

“
Mama, a pat answer stinks.”  Doretta shoved herself upright and smooched Levi on the cheek.  She turned at the door.  “I almost forgot.  Teagan will pick up Levi on her way home from the fish market in a couple of hours.  We’re doing movies and pizza at her place.”

“
Is there enough room in her pickup for two more car seats.”

“
Extended cab, remember?”

You need your rest instead of staying up late.”

“I’m just scheduled to work rush hour.”

“
It’s too soon to be waiting tables.  Can’t you chop lettuce or something?”

Doretta curled up her nose.  “Yuck.”  She pushed open the screen door.

“Teagan knows where I live?”

“
She goes by here all the time.  Knew right away when I said it was the bright blue house in the twelve-hundred block.”  Doretta let the door swing shut.

“
You know very well I feel special living inside this house,” Florene called.

When Doretta entered the back door of Sonya’s Steak House, she saw the permanent frown on her boss’s broad face grow deeper.  Sonya was a strong rugged woman from years spent pulling lumber at a mill in the Cascades.  She escaped that and bought the easy job of feeding the public.  She lived in a state of constant crabbiness, knew it, and didn’t care if anyone else cared.

Doretta liked her.  She hung her jacket on a hook inside the employee’s cubbyhole.  “Sorry I’m late.”

“
I should fire you.”

“
Sure you should, but I’m a great waitress.”

“
Don’t mean crap.”

“
My friend was killed in her apartment last night, and I helped care for her baby.”

Sonya’s square jaw dropped.  “That counts, what happened?”

“The cops don’t know, and I can’t imagine who. . . .”  Doretta’s eyes misted.

Sonya patted Doretta’s arm.  “I’ll cover for you if you want to leave.”

Her boss’s offer came so unexpected Doretta wasn’t sure if she heard right.  “I’m good for a few hours.”  She tied her white apron over her black uniform.

Sonya raised her brows.  “Did you shorten your hem again?”

“Every inch up is more tips in my pocket.”  Doretta sashayed through the swinging doors into the dining area decorated with wine-colored upholstery and knotty-pine walls.  Mr. and Mrs. Walach sat at their usual dimly-lit table.  He winked at Doretta.

“
Mrs. Walach, your devil of a husband just gave me a wink with an attitude.”

The round woman leaned nearer to Doretta.  “Worry only if it’s a double one.”

Doretta’s throaty laughter died when a sleek guy dressed in chinos and a herringbone sweater entered the lobby and stared at her.  Her hackles rose at what his self-satisfied grin implied.

“
Leave now
.”  Her harsh whisper echoed when she brushed by him and into the kitchen.

Doretta stopped beside the counter where her boss tallied receipts.  “Reggie is in the lobby, and I don’t want to see him,” she hissed.

Sonya peeked through the swinging door.  “He’s been here every night asking about you.”

“
Get rid of him.”

“
He’s pretty sexy with that gold chain and diamond stud.”

“
Zirconia, and he’s as fakey as his stone.  A rotten no-good womanizer.  Shit and double shit, how did I let him sweet talk his way into my bed?”  Confronting him appeared unavoidable.  Doretta sucked in her tummy and tried to control her anger.  She marched out of the kitchen and straight at him.  “When I tell someone to get lost, they stay lost.  I’ll have you arrested for stalking.”

“
And I’ll have you arrested for being too dammed beautiful.  Tell me, does my boy look like me or you?”

“
You don’t have a boy.”

“
He’s mine, Doretta.”

“
I’m calling the cops.”

Reggie sighed.  “How come I’m letting you talk mean, when there’s a blonde babe waiting outside in the big Mercedes?  She’s probably a lot friendlier than you.”

Doretta shook her head.  “Only
you
would know that.”  Her words dripped poison, but she couldn’t resist checking to see who he was talking about.  She pulled the door open and saw a black Mercedes, the woman inside a shadowy figure.

Doretta felt Reggie behind her and spun.  “Keep your distance.”  His laughter drove her to the phone on the desk and she punched 911.

Reggie shot her that same irksome grin and pushed through the door.

“
Sorry,” she said into the receiver.  “There’s no emergency now.”  She replaced the phone in its cradle and checked outside.

Reggie was gone.

So was the woman.

Erica caught her breath when the entrance door of Sonya’s Steak House opened and Doretta peered out at the Mercedes.  For an instant, the safety of her disguise meant nothing.  Now was not the time to be spotted.  But the surveillance paid off.  Doretta was back at work and Levi would be with a sitter.  Who?  Maybe he’s in that silly blue house, she thought, and dropped the gearshift into drive.

The stupid nurse will fight for her grandson.

“
No problem.”

Not much frightened Erica and the nurse posed no threat at all.  What did cause spears of terror was Derek alone needing a playmate.

The steakhouse vanished in the rearview mirror.

Black endless clouds closed off any light from the moon or stars.  Headlights, street lamps, and homes provided the only shadowy illumination.  Through undraped windows, Erica watched families, stole a peek at their happiness, and suffered in her desperate need to see.  Repressing the emptiness in her womb only made it worse.  Derek’s fluttering movements had been a promise.  A dead one.  Her left forearm enclosed her flat abdomen in reproach.  Never again would it swell with such a promise.

In one picture window, Erica saw a father playing horsey-back with a small boy, and a shudder stiffened her neck muscles.  She pulled the tresses of the wig forward, blocking all peripheral vision and concentrated on the wet pavement ahead.

Erica punched off the headlights, and the alley behind Florene’s house plunged into blackness.  Her eyes adjusted and she made out a spot wide enough to park by the back gate.  Leaving the engine idling quietly, she slipped toward the rear door.  The spike heels of her pumps sunk into mud and released with loud sucking sounds.  She froze in mid-step and listened.  A car door shut.  It sounded like it came from the front of the house.

She kicked free of the shoes.  Cold mud squished into her hose.  Cursing inwardly for not having her boots, she dashed for the street.

Taillights disappeared around a corner.

That can’t be Doretta
.

“
I know that, Iska.  Don’t you cat-laugh!”

Erica peered through a partially curtained window.  No one.  A rose bush prevented a good view.  She sidestepped in the dark.  A sharp pain hit her toes.  She tripped, grabbed the window ledge, and caught herself before touching the horrid blue siding.  Wincing in pain, she kicked a coiled water hose out of the way.

Inside, Florene relaxed in an overstuffed chair, watching television.

No baby.  Erica scanned every angle.  

Where is Levi?

Erica slipped away in the dark.

Don’t leave Mother’s shoes.

In the dark, she searched for the black shoes, finally found them and stole through the back gate, knowing that Levi must soon travel to where Derek played in a field empty except for himself.  She drove the lonely streets to Doretta’s apartment by reflex, the way memorized while making plans.  Wide tires parted puddles that splashed in rooster tails behind the Mercedes.  The headlights illuminated a brown paper bag crumpled by the curb.  It was soppy wet.  Were the kittens inside?  The pitiful furry little creatures?  Erica again felt the tiny bones.

In the safety of a cloud-hung night, Erica studied the dark windows of Doretta’s third-floor apartment, same as a cat stalks a bird, intense, motionless and sharp-eyed.  “The bitch can’t even stay home with her baby?”  She stepped from the side of the Mercedes and caught her bare toes on the curb.  More pain shot through her sore foot.  “Damn, stupid garden hose.”  Frustration throbbed in her temples.  Why was she so messed up?  Couldn’t even think straight.

“
Iska, what’s wrong with me?” she groaned.  “How could I forget my boots?”

She swore fluently when Iska purred,
your mother’s clothes
.  

Her tabby was right!  Mother never had a thought that made sense her whole miserable life.  Erica yanked the honey-blonde wig from her head and slung it into the Mercedes.  The wet hose stripped from her legs with a sucking sound.  She tied one of the muddy nylons around her ribs beneath the jacket.  She wedged the handgun next to her skin and straightened the long white gloves on her forearms.  They glared even in the dark.  She shoved them back down to her wrists.  How could Mother wear such hideous things?  They’d burn in the fireplace just as soon as her fingerprints didn’t matter − that would be when the boys were united.

Indecision evaporated into the blessed darkness, a perfect night for an ambush.

An iron staircase to Doretta’s apartment angled up the north side of the house.  Erica stole upwards.  The mesh steps sharply indented the soles of her feet, and the stairs rattled in a few places despite her stealth.  At the top, she peered into a dark window – no sign of anyone.  She picked the lock and stepped inside.  Sweetness of vanilla candles tickled her nose and she fought the sneeze away.  Her watery eyes adjusted to the gloom.  A couch and chair to the right, several doors to the left.

Paper rustled.  “Who dat?”

Erica’s hand found her 9-mm.  She stood ready.

A rush of wings.  Claws gripped her shoulder.  She brushed at them.  A squawk.  A rush of wings.  Erica flipped on a light switch, saw a white cockatiel hanging on a curtain rod, and switched the light off.

It set off screeching, “Damn you,” and swearing blue words that were shameful.  Doretta wasn’t such a nice person after all.  Erica’s heart calmed, she crossed to the window and searched for an angle to view the street.  None.  The only signal of Doretta’s arrival would be the rattle of metal stairs and who could hear that with the bird acting like a nut.

Erica cased each of the four rooms.  The noise raked against raw nerves.  She scrounged for meat in the refrigerator and found only a package of bologna.  Who ate this stuff?  Her nose curled.  She threw a piece at the cockatiel.  He snatched it out of the air, gave her a beady glare, ate it and settled down on the curtain rod.

In the baby’s room, Erica retrieved a leftover shopping bag from under a pile of clothes and stuffed it with tiny shirts, newborn-sized diapers, bibs and receiving blankets.  The size of a pair of teensy socks surprised her.  Laughing, she added them along with a couple of toys.  The teddy bear like Derek’s rested in a rocker.  She placed it carefully on top of the other things.  Not long now and the boys and their things would all be together, sharing and laughing and playing.  Maybe then, the hammer blows echoing in the night would end.

Metal rattled as someone hurried up the stairs.  Quickly, Erica slipped into a closet, leaving the door cracked.  A key turned in the outside lock.  A squeak.  Lights flicked on in the living room.  She strained to hear movement.

“
Hello, bird.”

Male voice?  She hadn’t anticipated a boyfriend.  I should’ve, she thought, and steeled her nerves before stepping from the closet and into the living room.

“Who are you?”  Erica demanded.

The man jumped.  “Beautiful lady, you scared me shitless.”  He patted his chest near his heart.  “But since I live here now and then, you’d better introduce yourself.  I’m Reggie.”

“Get out, now.”

His eyes ran over Erica’s body.  They stopped at her feet.  “Why are you all mucky?”

“Ever heard of mud baths?”

Reggie grinned wolfishly.  “You soak in it?”

If he wanted to play dirty, she’d show him dirty.  “It’s chilly in here.”  Shivering, she crossed her arms and squeezed them together.  The jacket lapels gapped, baring a good portion of her.

His eyes devoured her chest and his grin widened.  “We ought to get acquainted.”

She smoothed the jacket back into place and in a low throaty tone said, “I’m Doretta’s friend now.”

“
What do you mean?”

“
You see two beds?”  She stepped near him.  “If you don’t leave, I’ll phone Doretta.  You can hear what she has to say, and from what she’s already said about you, it won’t be to your liking.”  Mentally, Erica willed him to go.  Only the babies had to travel to the peaceful place.  She considered pulling her gun and forcing him out, but he’d call 911 as soon as she shut the door.

He locked stares with Erica.  “I don’t believe it.”

She read the coward inside of him.  She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue.  “Don’t worry.  I’ll take good care of Doretta.  You probably wanna hear how we . . . .”  She licked her lips again, slower, with more tongue.

Reggie shuddered and stepped back.

Erica hissed.

He fled through the door.

She hugged herself and chuckled at the clanking footfalls shaking the metal stairs.  He was just a typical undeveloped male, all show and no guts at all.

The bastard would fly if he could.

“Iska, I played naughty, but it got rid of him.”

Iska had already departed and Erica’s lonesome laughter went unheard, same as her tears over the lost chance to train a supreme leader went unshared.  So many other times, she laughed or cried alone, preferring it that way.  She looked at the bird.  “Where are the bitch and her brat?”  The question nibbled at her mind and she lifted the phone from its hook.

Teagan answered.

Using a sweet southern drawl, Erica asked, “May I speak with Doretta, please?”

“Caller ID says you’re calling from her phone.  Who are you?”

“
A classmate.  She told me if I arrived early to let myself in and call her at this number.”

“
I’m expecting her soon.  May I take a message?”

“
Tell her I’ll be at her place.”  Erica dropped the receiver into its cradle before Teagan could respond and hurried down the jingling steps.