Unwanted Company - Barbara Seranella (23 page)

"
Yeah," he said. just a minute." He
said the words like she was asking him to do her some really big
favor. She would have loved to say something like, "If you don't
mind moving your fat ass for once," but she knew she couldn't
afford to antagonize him.

She heard the phone put down and Dwayne bellow, "Lila
Mae, that daughter of yours is on the phone."

A moment later, Ellen's mom picked up. "Where
have you been?"

"
I've been getting my act together, Mom,"
Ellen said. "You know, finding an apartment, getting a job."

"Uh—huh. We didn't know what to think. One
moment you're here, the next you're gone. And all without so much as
a note."

I did leave you a note," Ellen said.

"
Funny that I never saw it. So now what? You're
all settled, is that it?"

"
Well, I did get a job, but I had to move out of
where I was staying." Ellen closed her eyes. "Mom, I ran
into some trouble."

"
Oh, Gawd," Lila Mae said. "You ain't
pregnant." She said it like it was the worst thing that could
happen to a person.

"
No, nothing like that. I just need a place to
stay for a couple of days."

"What about all those great friends of yours? I
thought Munch was supposed to help you."

"
She did. She was."

"
What did you do?"

"Nothing," Ellen said, hating the whining
tone that had crept into her voice. "Nothing that was my fault."

"Where have I heard that before? You sound
funny."

"
I'm just tired."

"
Don't give me that crap. What are you on now?"

Ellen took a sip of beer before she answered. This
was all so unfair. "Nothing, Mom. Can't you ever believe your
own daughter?"

"
You stole my sewing machine."

"
That was ten years ago," Ellen said.
"Could you please just not argue with me?" She exhaled,
took a second to collect herself, then began again. "All right,
here's the deal. I messed up a little, but now I want to start
staying clean again. I just need a little help."

Lila Mae sighed into the phone. "Where are you?
I'll send Dwayne to pick you up."

"
Can't you come?"

"No, I've got the league tonight."

Oh, well then. That was that. God forbid she should
neglect the league or miss a goddamn tournament for once in her life.
"You know what, Mom? I think I can get this situation under
control myself."

"You sure?"

"Yeah," Ellen said. "Forget I even
called." She hung up. Fuck it. She still had over two hundred
bucks left. She had hoped to hand it all over to Munch, but twenty
bucks was going to have to go for a motel room.

"Everything all right?" Tommy asked.

"
Oh, yeah, hunkydory. Say, Tommy, you think you
could give me a ride over to my friend's house to pick up my stuff?"
 

CHAPTER 19

He slipped into the dark house without causing a
ripple in the neighborhood. The back door was a simple lock, easily
picked. He moved like a shadow, not making a sound and wending
through the quiet rooms like a wraith of smoke. The power of his
daring surged through him, lightening his step and stiffening his
cock.

The house had two bedrooms, one of them belonging to
a child—a little girl. Pictures of the girl were all over the
refrigerator: dressed in a tutu, sitting astride a pony, feeding a
cockatiel on some sort of stage. The mother was obviously very
pleased to have delivered herself of a girl-child.

He moved to the front bedroom. The noises of the
boulevard filtered through to him. At times like these all his senses
were extraordinarily acute. That was part of the gift. The curtains
of the room were drawn, but a small slit of light from a streetlamp
sneaked through where they didn't quite meet. There was enough
illumination for him to see that he was in the mother's bedroom.
Suddenly the noises from the street grew more personal. He heard the
outside gate swing open, footsteps on the path outside the window. He
froze, waiting. There was a slight shuffling noise he couldn't
identify, and then the scratch of a key entering a lock, the thunk of
a dead bolt turning. He took a step deeper into the room's shadows.
When the front door opened, he also opened the closet.

Whoever had entered the house did not put on the
lights immediately. He listened while the person stumbled in the
dark, then entered the child's room. At last a light was put on. He
slipped into the open closet, letting the female fabrics hanging
there softly caress his face. It was all he could do not to moan out
loud. He put a hand over his erection. as if to hold it back.

He reached down and slowly lifted his pant leg. The
three-fingered grip of his stinger pleased him. He eased it from the
scabbard strapped to his shin. ·

Noises of objects being moved and dragged across the
wooden floor of the child's room masked his own stealthy steps. He
heard the intruder murmur. It was a woman. He left the closet to
sneak a peek out the bedroom window.

Outside, a man leaned against a yellow Volkswagen
Beetle smoking a cigarette. The woman in the house carried a suitcase
out to the man with the car. He watched as she stuck out her hand in
that splayed two-finger gesture smokers use to indicate they want a
drag. The woman inhaled deeply on the cigarette while the Volkswagen
man put her bag in his backseat. Then she turned toward the house. He
couldn't believe his luck. It was that Ellen creature. Obviously the
fates were with him. He saw that she had changed her hair again.
Deceptive bitch. She was a blonde now.

She threw down the
cigarette. He hated her for her casual littering, her disregard for
others. She turned back toward the house, and he lifted his stinger
in readiness.

* * *

"
So what's with him?" Munch asked Caroline
as they set the table. Asia was taking a bath before dinner.

"What do you mean?" Caroline asked.

"
What's he so mad about all the time?"
Munch felt she'd earned the privilege of cutting through the bullshit
and getting right to the heart of the matter. Hadn't she been
instrumental in the two of them getting together?

Caroline sighed as she smoothed out a place mat.
"He's been like that for months."

"Since his dad died?"

"
It started even before that." She pulled
out a chair and sat. Munch did the same. "Right after Christmas,
Digger stopped eating."

"
He told me that," Munch said.

"
He did?" Caroline asked, surprise showing
on her face.

"Yeah, he said you had to grind everything up in
the blender before the old guy would even look at it."

"
We tried everything. Small portions, only the
freshest ingredients. Sometimes he would eat sweets; mostly he just
wanted to be left alone. Mace tried to keep him involved in life, but
Digger was just tired. The last few months were the worst."

"
Was he in pain?" Munch asked.

"
It wasn't so much physical," Caroline
said. "Digger thought we were after his money. Once I did my
laundry here when the housekeeper took a day off. This was before we
moved in full-time. Digger wanted to know why I was using up all his
water."

"
Sounds like you should have been the one to get
pissed off."

"
Believe me," Caroline said. "There
were times. When I first met Digger, I thought, How cute, this is
what Mace will be like in forty years. I loved them both. After
living through this last year, I began to look at Mace and think, Now
I know what he's going to be like in forty years."

"
And you hated them both," Munch said.

Caroline adjusted the salt shaker. "I was tired.
Taking care of Digger was like having a newborn. He woke up all hours
of the night, needed constant attention, messed his clothes. It got
pretty horrendous. But as bad as it was for me, it was that and more
for Mace. Once Digger beckoned for Mace from his chair. Mace came to
him immediately, as he always did. 'I've got nobody,' Digger said.
Mace said, 'What are you talking about, Dad? You've got me, you've
got Caroline.' Digger just shook his head, and said, 'I've got
nobody.'"

"That's cold," Munch said.

"
I wanted to throttle him," Caroline
admitted.

"
So maybe it wasn't all bad when he died."

"Strangely enough, I was devastated,"
Caroline said. "As much as I knew it was his time, and that
Digger really wanted to go, we still had so much invested in keeping
him going on a daily basis. In some ways, it was like losing a child.
I cried until I could barely stand. Mace got angry with me—told me
he needed me to be strong."

"Tough guy, huh?" Munch said in her best
Cagney impression. This brought a small smile to Caroline's lips. "I
don't get a big picture of him ever breaking down and crying. Did
he?"

"
Not in front of me."

"
Too bad he couldn't let it out."

Caroline wiped her eyes, and sighed. "I'm tired
of knocking at that door."

Munch nodded in understanding, searching her own
history for similar experiences. When she thought of Derek, she
laughed.

"
What?" Caroline asked.

"
I'm sorry," Munch said. "I was just
thinking it can go too far the other way, too. Take Derek, for
instance. Every night when I got home from work, he couldn't wait to
share with me all his thoughts and feelings for the day. Right before
we broke up, he told me there was some poll on TV about what women
wanted most from their spouses. Eighty percent of the woman responded
that they wished their mate would open up and talk about his emotions
more. Derek was so proud. Then I pointed out that ninety percent of
those men probably had jobs and were tired when they got home."

"Did he get the hint?" Caroline asked.

"
No," Munch said. "I don't think he's
gotten it yet."

"
They can be so dense."

"
Tell me about it." Munch rubbed a spot on
the table. "Is that why you separated?"

"Most of the reason. Starting even before Digger
died it seemed the more I tried to reach Mace, the more hostile and
distant he became. Maybe it was mostly subconscious, but it was
pretty clear to me he was doing everything he could think of to
sabotage us, our love. He finally succeeded. What's really sad is
that my giving up on us finally got his attention. Ironic, isn't it?
We're both getting what we wanted, and now it's too late."

"
So are you guys getting a divorce?" she
asked. The question had been on the tip of her tongue all afternoon,
but she had been avoiding asking, fearing the answer. She'd been to
Mace and Caroline's wedding. Cried when they promised each other
their eternal love. Cried because it was such a beautiful,
preposterous sentiment.

Caroline's tone was resigned when she answered.
"Probably. I keep trying to make allowances for all that he's
been through. Then last month I found a condom wrapper in his suit
pocket. I confronted him about it. He admitted that he had seen an
old girlfriend, they had drinks, one thing led to another—"

"
Wait a minute," Munch interrupted. "You're
saying he just left it in his pocket?

"A bit careless, don't you think?" Caroline
asked, raising an eyebrow.

"
Suicidal," Munch agreed. "Is that
when you finally figured, 'Enough already'?"

"He thinks so. The truth is I can get past that.
What can't take any longer is how he refuses to open up to me. How he
holds on to all his anger and doesn't leave room for anything else."

"
Yeah," Munch said, "I know what you
mean. Love only goes so far. You try to give a guy every break, then
one day you just reach a point where it's taking you down."

Caroline got up and checked the casserole in the
oven.

"
Enough about me. Tell me about Asia's father,"
she said.

 "
Mace said he passed away? How long ago
was that?"

"
Six years." Munch wiped her palms on her
pants. She always got nervous when she was about to reveal a secret,
especially a big one. "He—"

"Mom," Asia called from the bathroom. "I'm
getting all wrinkly."

"
All right," Munch said, getting up so
quickly that her chair tipped over. "I'll be right there."

The phone rang as Munch entered the bathroom.
Caroline picked it up in the living room. Munch opened the bathtub
drain, then unfolded a towel for Asia to step into. As she rubbed her
daughter dry, Caroline stuck her head into the bathroom. 'That was
Detective Cassiletti. He's coming by to take you to your house."

"What clothes do you want?" Munch asked
Asia.

"
Hmmm," she said, looking skyward. "Can't
I just go with you?"

"
No, I want you to stay here."

"Is Mace coming back?" Asia asked.

"Later."