The Last Clinic (25 page)

“I think they’ll save a place for you.”

“I’m not so sure,” she said and heard herself sounding serious, as if she had a confession to make.

 “Are you happy here in Jackson?” he asked.

She wanted to say that she wasn’t until this very moment, but chickened out.

“Since Hugh died, I’ve been very unhappy. Jackson, I guess, is as good a place as any to be unhappy.”

“You lived in Philadelphia before moving here?”

“A South Philly girl with a main line accent. Don’t know how I got it.”

“And your parents? Are they still alive?”

“My mother died of a stroke. My father died of a broken heart. They both worked for the Philadelphia Police Department. My father was a beat cop. My mother worked in records. I went into the family business.”

She pushed herself up to her elbows.

“I could have gone back to Philadelphia after Hugh’s funeral. Actually, I did go back, but I couldn’t find it, the Philadelphia I knew. Everybody, everything had moved on. I didn’t have a place anymore. I had friends in Jackson, a couple. And I had a home where I could hide out.”

She sat all the way up and tossed her head, letting her hair sway one way and the other.

 “Do you have something to drink? Besides coffee, I mean.”

He walked to the cabinet, fetched a bottle of sherry, placed it on a silver tray along with two tumblers, and carried the tray back to the couch.

She didn’t watch him this time and tried to avoid making eye contact. The next part was going to be difficult.

He poured them each a hefty portion.

“Salute,” he said, lifting his glass.

She took a long swallow, followed by another, then took the bottle from his hands, poured three fingers, and swallowed that too.

“I had an abortion,” she said, her voice flat.

He nodded.

She looked into his eyes and saw what she was sure Beth had seen—someone who refused to judge her.

“It was before Hugh. I never told him. I never told anyone.”

His expression did not change. He remained tuned to her, engaged, listening, but not reacting, allowing her to define her feelings for herself.

Later, she would remember this as the moment she fell in love with him.

“I was eighteen. He was older. A lot older. He had a wife and a couple of kids. I didn’t want to mess things up for his life. That’s what I told myself. Maybe I just didn’t want the responsibility. That was part of it. I was headed off to college with all kinds of big plans. So, standard issue D&C. The doctor, a woman, said she did ten a week, as if it was nothing. Like everybody was doing it. Told me not to worry. That’s what I wanted to hear. A simple heat of the moment mistake. Easily fixable. Clip, clip. All gone. Only, every year I remember the day.

“The day you were due to deliver?”

She nodded. “My son’s birthday. It was going to be a boy. They didn’t tell me but I knew anyway.”

“Were you and your husband planning on having children?” He asked it as though he knew the answer.

“Yes. When Hugh was still playing. Before his injury. We were living in a loft in the city, in Philadelphia. I had just turned thirty. Six years on the force. Had my detective’s shield. Just busted a big case. Done what I needed to do. I was ready to be a mother. Chuck the career thing, at least until I had my family off and on their way. I started noticing women with babies. Those feelings. We figured two, maybe three kids. I had it all mapped out in my head. The kind of house we’d live in, the schools, everything. We were just starting to try. Hugh’s injury changed everything. Four surgeries in the first two years. I thought it would be better to wait until Hugh recovered, until he felt whole again. It never happened. He eventually got to a point where he could get around without a crutch, but that was it. His career was over. He never set foot on a field again. So finally, we came to Jackson. Hugh went to work for his father in the appliance store. But he had no mind for business and he hated selling. He wasn’t a people person. Strangers, people who barely knew him, thought he was Joe Friendly, but that was just because he was nice to them when they came up to him. He thought it was his duty. You know, the courtly Southern gentlemen. Inside, he was a shy man—one of the things I liked about him. He came to hate that everybody was always popping in the store to see him. Said he felt like he was in a zoo and people were coming to gawk at the wounded animal. He stopped going in. Finally, his family just used him to make commercials. He hated that too, but felt like he couldn’t refuse.”

“Were you trying to conceive after you moved down here?”

She gave him a wry smile.

“We didn’t exactly have a lot of opportunities. He withdrew. He started gambling. It was the only thing that made him feel good. That and the pain meds. Pills were no big deal to him. In the NFL, they give them out like candy. His injury escalated the habit. He was a big-time addict and I didn’t know it. Then one morning I woke up and Hugh wasn’t there. Instead, there was a patrolman at my door.

“So, no Hugh and no children. Just this empty feeling. Looking back—I do that a lot now—I’m not sure I made the right choice. About my pregnancy, I mean. Who am I kidding? I made the wrong choice. And I can never unmake it.”

“Freedom of choice does not ensure that we will always end up happy with the choice that we made.”

“And now, what I want most is a child. I dream about that all the time.”

She remembered that last dream, the one that also had him in it—the goofy, crazy dream.

“Every patient I see who has an abortion feels a deep sorrow, a wound that will not fully heal. Even the women who remained convinced they made the right decision. Still, in my view, it is a matter between the woman and God.”

She rolled her body into his and let his long arms envelope her. After a few minutes, she felt him lift his arms to look at his watch.

“It’s nearly nine. We haven’t eaten. Come to my home. I’ll fix us something.”

“Can I sleep in your bed tonight? I don’t want to be alone.”

“Yes. I would like that.”

24

Candid Camera.

Darla was propped up in bed watching her new boyfriend taking his morning shower, catching glimpses of his lean muscularity twisting and turning behind the fogged-up glass door. Stephen, she decided to call him, not Steve.

She was considering leaving her bed to join him in the shower. Tease him, maybe. See if she couldn’t make him late for his first appointment.         

Her cell rang. It was Shelby, calling from his office. Him calling this early was not a good sign.

“Is this an invitation for breakfast, Shelby?”

“Miss Darla, where are you right now?”

“It’s six a.m. What kind of question is that?”

“I’m going to bet you ain’t been home in the last few hours?”

“You’re way out of bounds here, Shelby.”

“There’s a new development.

“Uther found the pattern? We know who’s getting the money?”

“I’ll tell you all about it when you get here.”

Her mind was racing, but her eyes were still lingering on Stephen, who was now wiping the steam off the shower door and peering through the glass at her. Holding her cell, she dropped the covers exposing her breasts, arched her back and retracted her shoulders blades, just to see his reaction.
Here I am
, she thought.
Come and get me
.

 “Would seven-thirty be okay?” Maybe she could fit in another turn. Last night they had it quick, then nice and slow. It was Quickie’s turn again.

“Sooner would be better,” said Shelby. “As soon as you can is what I’m hoping for.” 

“If it’s so urgent maybe you better tell me now.”

“Detective, please, can we do this without having to re-enact the battle of Vicksburg.”

“Okay, but absolutely no spitting when I get there. I can’t deal with that on an empty stomach.’

“One more thing. I don’t want you stopping off at your house to get gussied up. Just come straight down here. Promise?”

“I’ll come straight down, okay?”

The phone went dead.

That’s bizarre
, she thought,
the line about not stopping off at home
. She started to call the house, but remembered Kendall had gone up to the cabin the previous afternoon.

Stephen was out of the shower, drying himself, watching her get dressed. She slipped into her heels with bare legs, bent down, strapped the holster to her ankle, and checked the clip to make sure she was fully loaded. Still naked he walked to her, stopped two steps away, and stood there getting aroused.

 “What?” she teased with a glint in her eyes. “You’ve never seen a woman in heels before?”

“It’s your gun.”

“You like toys, huh? You’re not alone there.”

“That’s not a toy,” he said.

She felt herself heating up, but thought she better not. “Shelby called. I need to go into the office right away. I’m sorry.”

He looked down at himself. “Like with your recording machine—I’ll put it on pause.”

“Tonight, then. But it’s my turn to cook,” she said, thinking she’d call Lulu for one of her dinner-for-two recipes. They’d have lobster, oysters, caviar—something decadent.

She slipped into her slacks and turned around with her back to him so he could get a nice long look at her hard little buns. She turned back around facing him, reached out to touch him one more time, a quick gentle tug in the right place.

 Then she went back to being a cop.

Shelby’s office was empty when she arrived. She asked the desk sergeant to page him.

“I’m in the video center,” he said. “Come on up.”

The elevator was too slow. She walked up the two flights, taking two and three stairs at a time.

She found Shelby slouched in front of the video. He was unshaven and looked like he hadn’t had his morning coffee, never mind the grits or biscuits.

“You ain’t going to like this,” he said and hit the Play button.

The recording was short, less than five minutes. It was a section of a larger conversation, edited down.

The camera was locked down in an overhead position, shooting down into Reverend Aldridge’s study. The shot took in most of the room. Two people were present. The camera had them in profile. The first, Reverend Aldridge, was seated in the chair behind his desk. The second person in the shot, Kendall Goodhew, sat across from him on a large easy chair pulled up to his desk.

Kendall was crying, wiping her eyes, and trying to compose herself.

“She looks like shit,” Darla said.

“I know it’s a sin,” said Kendall. “I remember my vows. I meant them too. But things fell apart with Bobby. All Bobby cares about is his career. I’ve been so empty, Jimmy. I needed someone. And I found more than I could have hoped for. Someone where there’s real communication and understanding. Bobby and I haven’t loved each other for years. My marriage is a sham, Jimmy. I’m participating in a hypocrisy.”

Reverend Aldridge folded his hands on his desk and learned over to her. “Of course your marriage is a sham, Kendall. You turned it into one. You broke your vows. You’ve betrayed your husband and the holy sacrament, and you’ve sinned against God. And now, you want my blessing to run off with another man?”

“I want you to talk to Bobby. You’re his friend. Ask him to let me go. For our children’s sake. I’m not blaming Bobby. I’m not saying it’s his fault. I don’t want a dime from him for myself. ”

“Let me get this straight. You want me to persuade your husband to grant you a irreconcilable differences divorce, so you can you take your children from their father and move to New Orleans to be with your lover?”

“He could still see them. It’s only three hours away.”

This isn’t going to end well
, thought Darla.

“You’re not in your right mind, Kendall. Bobby would never agree to that, and I would never ask him. Besides, Bobby is one of the most powerful men in the state. He loves his children. You think he’s going to let a cheating wife take his children out of state. Bobby will fight you with all he’s got, and he’ll win.”

“My children belong with their mother. They need their mother. Bobby doesn’t spend any time with them anyway, and I need a divorce.”

“Oh, I agree you do need a divorce. You’re not fit in God’s eyes to be Bobby Goodhew’s wife, and you’re not fit to be a mother, either. You petition for custody, and I’ll see to it that you get exposed for what you are—a common harlot, a whore. And if you’re thinking about lying in court, you need to know I’ve made a recording of this conversation. You look up there. That little hole, there’s a camera there, and I will not hesitate to give this recording to Bobby’s attorney if I have to. Bobby is a righteous man, and you are not taking his children from him.”

“Leave, Kendall,” Darla whispered. “Get up and leave.”

“That was my thinking too,” said Shelby.

Kendall got up, but didn’t leave. She wiped the tears from her eyes, her face bright red now. She stood over Jimmy and seemed large and strong.

Here we go
, thought Darla.

“Okay, now there’s two things you need to understand, Jimmy. First, fuck you, you self-righteous prick. Second, if you succeed in taking my children away from me, I’ll make sure you don’t live to walk your daughter down the aisle. I will come after you Jimmy. I will come when you least expect it. I will hunt you down like an animal in the Delta swamps, and I will kill you, you son of a bitch. Do you understand? I will blow your fucking ass away.”

Shelby hit the Stop button.

“The rest is, well, Kendall walking out, slamming the door behind her, and cussing as she left. You want me to replay it? It don’t get any better the second time through.”

Darla pictured herself on the witness stand, raising her hand, giving testimony that her best friend was not home at the time of Reverend Aldridge’s murder, that she had claimed to be out at the reservoir jogging, and that Kendall had looked flushed and excited when she came in at about seven a.m. The prosecutor would advise Darla that she was a sworn officer of the court. Then he would ask her if Kendall had mentioned anything about Reverend Aldridge’s death. Had she commented on it? If Darla was evasive, he would he would go straight to the point and ask her to tell the Court exactly what she recollected Kendall saying about Reverend Aldridge’s death. She would be required to tell the prosecutor that Kendall had said she’d wondered why someone hadn’t killed Reverend Aldridge sooner, and he would ask Darla what else Kendall said, and on and on until it was all out, smearing Reverend Aldridge’s blood all over Kendall’s face.