Mustard on Top (11 page)

“Yes. I am a divorcee.” Her tone had an edge.

“What happened?”

“What about you? You said you don’t have other children, but what about a wife?”

“No wife.”

“Not ever?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

A familiar queasiness returned. “Well…” he began. How could he commit to someone he’d be forced to lie to? He’d ignored Theo’s existence for years, how could he expect anyone to forgive him when he didn’t forgive himself? “Uh.”

Unexpectedly, Helen laughed. “Why are you so nervous?”

Ben chuckled, releasing some tension.

“You sure aren’t comfortable talking about yourself. Why?”

Ben’s self-loathing returned. He’d wanted to learn about Helen, but the conversation had jack-knifed and he was emotionally stumbling all over himself. He stared out at the blackening sky. “I haven’t been the best person. I’ve won cases for people who were undeserving. I’ve done what’s best for me, and frankly I’m ashamed of myself.”

His words hung in the air.

“Are you going to change or just whine about it?” Helen asked.

Ben laughed. “I’m trying.”

Helen’s posture softened. “Sometimes I think it’s worse to start with everything: looks, athletics, brains, money. You’re not forced to grow a spine.”

Ben nodded. “You may be right. I’d like to hear about your husband.”

“Why?”

“I’d like to get to know my son’s mother and Theo’s history.”

“There’s not much to tell. I was nineteen when Kenny drifted into town. He took a job at Hot Diggitys back before I owned the place and we had this crazy chemistry. He was charming and funny, an aspiring writer. He’d been all over the world and could weave a good story.” Helen paused, and apparently reliving a fond memory, she smiled faintly.

Ben felt a pang of jealousy, wondering if any memories of him caused her to smile. “So what happened?”

“Chemistry only gets you so far. Ended up we had very different values. He wanted me to find a babysitter for Theo, so he and I could travel. He talked about backpacking across Europe and going to Africa.” She seemed lost in thought. “I didn’t want to be away from Theo. Plus, I couldn’t imagine not
earning
a living. I wanted roots for Theo while Kenny took whatever odd job he could find. He only worked when he necessary.

“In the end Theo and I made him feel like a ‘caged in.’ Sixteen months into the marriage, he flew the coop, taking my savings with him.”

“I’m sorry.”

Helen shrugged. “It happens.”

“Was Theo upset?”

“I don’t think Theo ever warmed up to him. The kid’s got better instincts than I do. After Kenny left, I decided I was just flat bad at picking out men and decided not to put me or Theo through that roller-coaster ride again.”

First me then a drifter. What luck
, Ben thought. “Does Theo remember him?”

“I think so, gosh, we never talk about it. Theo was only four when Kenny left.”

“The world verse Helen Ableman.”

Helen tilted her head to the side. “Many peoples’ lives are much harder life than mine ever was.”

“When was your life the hardest?” Ben asked.

Helen scrunched her face. “What’s with you tonight? You want more ammunition for your guilt?”

“I need to understand what you and Theo went through.”

“Why?”

Ben shrugged. “To feel more connected maybe. I’ve been alone for so long and now…” His voice faltered. “You have my respect. Your choice to raise Theo was selfless. Your whole life has been selfless, unlike mine.”

“Some people view single parenthood as selfish. Anyway, I was just your average single mom. Overworked and underpaid.” She flashed him a grin.

“Did your mom help at all?” Helen’s mom had disowned Helen, had she disowned her grandson too?

A pained expression crossed Helen’s face. “No.”

“So what’d you do after Theo was born?”

“I got an apartment.”

Guilt, like poison, pulsed through his veins. These were the questions he had on sleepless nights. “What was Theo like?”

Helen grinned. “Adorable. So cute. He had huge eyes and these eyelashes that could dust the ceiling.” Helen chuckled. “Even in elementary school the girls were dropping like flies.”

“Was he an easy baby? Did he sleep well?”

“Oh, no, no, no. He had colic. For hours I’d walk through the apartment bouncing him. The neighbors even complained to the management about the footsteps.”

“Who watched him when you went to work?”

Helen straightened her back and her voice became hard. “I got him into a government-run daycare that took a percentage of my paycheck.”

“What about your best friend, Cindy? Did you two stay friends?”

“We’re still friends, but our lives went down separate paths. Cindy’s always been sweet, but she’s not a kid person. She still doesn’t have kids although she’s been like an aunt to Theo.”

Ben thought of the women at work who complained about how hard parenting was. “I’d always assumed you had some help.”

“We got through, but I’m not going to lie, we had difficult times.”

“So when did you become the owner of Hot Diggitys?”

“We playing twenty questions?”

“Is that all right with you?”

“As long as you realize I’ll get my turn next.”

“Deal.”

“Okay. Let’s see.” Helen gazed into the sky. “I guess it was twelve years ago that Sally and Earl decided to retire.”

“They sold you Hot Diggitys?”

“No.” Helen guffawed. “They gave me Hot Diggitys. Once I owned it, I discovered why. The stand was losing money. I think they’d stopped paying themselves.”

“So what did you do?”

“Revamped the menu, hence all my experiments with food. Painted, cleaned up. Theo and I ate Ramen noodles and beans and rice for years.”

“Hot Diggitys seems pretty profitable now.”

“It took me a while, but I finally got to the point where I actually made a decent living. That’s when I bought this house. We’ve been here eight years.”

Ben patted the roof with a new appreciation. The home had been hard won and probably meant more to Helen than his cars or condo.

“It’s getting dark.” Ben scanned the backyards of Helen’s neighbors. Most people had gone inside. Movement in Agatha’s back yard caught Ben’s eye. “I think someone just came out Agatha’s back door.” He pointed to a man.

Helen squinted. “Hey!” she shouted, startling Ben with her volume. Another man emerged from the back door. “What are you doing there?” Helen demanded.

The men, ignoring her, hopped the back fence and disappeared into the alley.

“Should we call the police?” Ben asked.

“Probably not, her son’s living with her now. Maybe it was him and a friend.”

“Ah.”

Helen stared at Agatha’s back yard. “On second thought, let’s go check the house.”

****

In her haste to get down, Helen missed a rung on the ladder. She caught herself before falling, but scraped her leg on the ladder’s edge. Pain radiated across her shin as she jogged to Agatha’s.

“Agatha!” Helen knocked on the front door. Light from a burning lamp shown through a gap in the living-room-window curtains. Peeking inside, Helen saw one of Agatha’s chairs was overturned. Helen pounded on the window. “Agatha! Jeremy!” She tried the door, found it locked, and whirled around, smacking into Ben’s chest. “Ouch! Sorry!”
Was the man made of steel?

“We should call the police,” she said.

“Let’s try to get in first. If she’s hurt, getting to her quickly might make a difference. We can call the police from inside if we need to,” Ben suggested.

Ben’s logic made sense, and Helen headed toward the back door. “Geez, it’s too dark to see anything. Oh, I almost forgot I have a key for Agatha’s house.” Helen veered toward her house.

Halfway there, Ben yelled, “I’m in! The back door was unlocked.”

Helen did an about face and ran back. Unlike her home, the rear entrance opened to the dining room rather than the kitchen.

Light poured out the open back door, and Helen stepped inside to find Ben standing still and gaping. She followed his gaze. In the middle of the kitchen floor, was a man tied to a chair, his body hunched over. “Holy crap.” Helen exclaimed.

“Check for a pulse, I’ll try to find Agatha,” Ben said. Helen moved into the kitchen.

The man on the chair squirmed then coughed. Caked blood on his mouth and chin cracked. One eye was swollen shut, and his bony, tattooed arms jutted from the sleeves of a plaid, button-down shirt.

“Jeremy? Ben he’s moving.” Helen called over her shoulder. Ben’s footfalls pounded the ceiling above her. Jeremy mumbled, and Helen moved closer. “What did you say?

“She’s not here.” He grimaced.

“Who? Agatha?”

“Bingo.” He coughed, splattering blood across the floor.

Ben burst into the kitchen. “I didn’t find her.”

“He’s says Agatha’s not here,” Helen said. “Where is she, Jeremy?”

“On a date.” Even beaten and bloodied, Jeremy managed to sound disdainful. His head lolled to the side, and he opened his good eye. “Untie me.”

“A date?” Helen recalled Agatha’s cheery disposition. “With who?” Jeremy inhaled then flinched. Helen waited for him to regain his composure then repeated, “Who’d she go on a date with?”

“You wouldn’t know him.”

“You two know each other?” Ben asked.

“Ben. This is Jeremy, Agatha’s son. Jeremy. Ben,” Helen said.

“I’d shake your hand, but I’m tied up at the moment.” Jeremy eyed Ben with his good eye.

“We need to call the police,” Ben said. “He needs medical attention too.”

“No cops. No doctors.” Jeremy’s voice rose in volume.

Ben scoffed. “We need both.”

“I won’t tell the cops a damn thing anyway, and you can’t force medical care on someone. No pigs and no docs.”

Helen leaned against the counter and stared at Jeremy. She wanted to handle the situation in the best way for Agatha. The more she thought, the angrier at Jeremy she became.

“Where’s a phone?” Ben scanned the home’s interior.

“Wait Ben. Let’s think this through,” Helen said.

“Can one of you untie me? This isn’t very comfortable and I need to pee.”

“How could you let those men into your mother’s home?” Helen blurted.

“I think we should call the police.” Ben knelt next to Jeremy and began pulling on his ropes.

“NO COPS.”

“Why? Is there a warrant out for your arrest?” Helen asked.

“I think he’s got a broken nose,” Ben said.

“Why no cops Jeremy?” Helen repeated. The more she contemplated the idea, the better she liked the idea of calling them. The police would probably have a reason to haul Jeremy away even if he was the victim. If Jeremy spent a few days in jail, he’d be forced to sober up.

“Moe is with my mom. I wonder what he’ll do when he comes back and the house is swarming with pigs.”

“Who is Moe?” Ben asked.

“The ringleader.” Jeremy tilted his head to look at Ben.

“Ringleader?” Helen asked.

“The leader of the guys who did this to me. He took my mom out, so I’d be alone.  Duh.”

“Ben, Agatha’s in trouble.”

“She’s not in trouble unless you do something stupid. He’s after me not her.”

“Moe will leave if the cops are here,” Helen reasoned.

Jeremy hooted. “Are you kidding? With the kind of coin I owe him? He might leave tonight, but he’ll be back, and he’ll be pissed.”

“There.” Ben tossed the ropes aside, and Jeremy lifted his newly freed arms.

“But you can press charges,” Helen argued.

Jeremy rolled his good eye. “I hate cops! They’re worse than thugs. Go ahead, get them involved, I’ll tell them the two of you did this to me. I can lie with them best of them.”

Helen pursed her lips and looked at Ben. “What do you think?”

“Well, if the victim is unwilling to press charges or identify his assailant, there is not much the police can do.”

“Thank you,” Jeremy said.

Ben continued, “Even if Agatha is out with the ringleader, neither is committing a crime. Plus, chances are the police will be gone before she gets back.”

Helen resigned herself. “Fine, but I’m waiting here until Agatha returns, then she and I are having a little talk.”

“I’m staying with you,” Ben said. “What’s that thing on your foot?” Ben asked Jeremy.

Helen’s gaze dropped to a large white bucket nearly the size of a beer keg. Jeremy’s foot was immersed inside almost to one knee.

“An accessory to go with my attire.”

“Pleasant guy.” Ben glanced at Helen.

“Seriously, what is it?” Helen stepped closer. The bucket was filled with a light gray substance. Tentatively, she touched it. The surface was cool and hard. “Is that cement?”

“Three cheers for the genius,” Jeremy said.

“Your foot is in a bucket of cement. Why?”

Jeremy rolled his good eye. “Maybe not a genius after all.”

“Be nice.” Ben handed him a glass of water.

The glass wobbled in Jeremy’s trembling hands. Blood dripped down one side as he drank. He handed the empty glass back to Ben.

“Jeremy, you need a doctor,” Helen said.

“I said no already.”

“How many fingers am I holding up?” Ben held up three in front of Jeremy’s face.

“Three.”

Brandishing seven, Ben asked, “And now?”