A Child is Torn: Innocence Lost (13 page)

“Gabby saved my father’s life.” He told her.

Her eyes widened in interest. “How?”

“How much do you know about Gabe’s past?” He asked.

“I heard he spent ten years in prison. Mr. Armistace supposedly gave him the job when he got out, but that’s just rumor; I don’t know how much of it’s true. Gabby’s been there longer than any of the present staff, so it’s all speculation. If my boss knows the truth, she doesn’t discuss it.”

“It’s not a rumor. Gabby was incarcerated for eleven years, not ten. Story is that Gabby’s mother worked for the Armistaces as a nanny. She practically raised Skylar Armistace and his sister. Gabby and Armistace went to school together, played together. They were on the school football team; Gabby was a linebacker, Armistace the star quarterback. Gabby had Armistace’s back on the field. They were good buddies—on and off the field—but Gabby was black, and the Armistace family frowned on their friendship. There was a double standard there; it was okay for them to be friends when they were children, but once they got older, it wasn’t acceptable.”

Marty stopped to take a sip of his drink. “Gabby got hurt bad one day protecting Armistace from getting hurt during a game, and that was the end of his football career. The NFL had scouted him and well, that fell through. The contract with the NFL had been Gabby’s way out of this town—and then it was gone. From what I was told, he became really bitter, his whole personality changed. He started hanging out with a bad crowd.

“One night he and his friends robbed a liquor store and one of the kids pulled a gun and shot and killed the clerk. The shooter got life without parole. Gabby got twenty years.”

“How does your father come into this?”

“My dad had recently gotten a job as a corrections officer at the prison. Gabby and my dad went to school together. They didn’t know each other well; my dad’s a year or two younger, but they always got along. One day some asshole attacked my father in the yard. Somehow he got a hold of a knife and stabbed him. Gabby ran over while everyone else just stood back and watched. Gabby grabbed the guy, actually had to break the guy’s arm to get the knife away from him. My dad was bleeding really bad, and Gabby put pressure on his wound until help came. My dad is alive today because of Gabby. And as an afterthought he added. “I guess I’m alive today because of Gabby as well.”

“He didn’t have to serve his full sentence?” She had always felt a special fondness for Gabby, but now she felt a deep respect for him as well.

“No. My father, the warden, and Armistace, all spoke at his parole hearing. Armistace promised to give him a job. The board definitely didn’t want to mess with Armistace; he owned this town
—
still does.”

“He’s been wonderful to us. No matter what we need, all we have to do is call his solicitor. He’s a bit of a recluse though, isn’t he?” She questioned him.

While they had been talking, their food had arrived and was already getting cold. Looking up Marty noticed that Diane and Justin weren’t at the table.

“Where’d they go?” Marty asked Trina as she was refilling Hope’s drink.

She pointed toward the stage. Justin was at the microphone singing to Diane.

Hope looked down at the food. “We’re wasting some good eats.” In between bites they continued some small talk. A few minutes later Justin and Diane returned to the table, holding hands and making arrangements to spend the following evening together.

 Justin was on duty in a few hours and he made apologies for breaking up the party. Marty was sorry to see the evening end. As they walked the girls out to the parking lot, Marty turned to Hope.

“It was nice… this has been a really nice evening.” He thought about asking her out again, but hesitated. He really wasn’t in Hope’s league. This lady was a doctor; he was just a cop.

“Goodnight,” he finished awkwardly.

She smiled “Night,” she answered, and got into the car with Diane. She gave a quick wave as Diane started the car and drove away.

Hope

Diane was positively glowing with exhilaration. “Tell me he’s not adorable?” She was nervously tapping her fingers against the steering wheel while maneuvering the car through the parking lot traffic.

I was thinking the more appropriate description was Adonis, George Clooney, and Brad Pitt wrapped up into one. Then I realized she was talking about Justin.

“Yes, Di. He’s very cute.” I told her.

“And funny.”

“Yes, Diane. Funny too.”

I looked at her. For the first time in a long time, my friend was really excited about someone. Justin and Di looked good together. They just seem to fit. Physically they were about the same; slim, tall, fair-complexioned, and redheaded. He was like the missing piece to her jigsaw puzzle. I was watching my friend fall in love for the first time in her life, and I was happy for her.

“Marty seems nice, too. What did you think?”

“He’s very nice Diane, but I’m sure I’m not in his league. He’s just too good looking; he’s more the Angelina Jolie type, not Gidget.”

“What are you talking about, girl? You’re gorgeous, smart, and have a great body. He’d be lucky to have you. I hate when you do that, belittle yourself like that. That’s your mother’s bullshit.”

Diane couldn’t stand my mother--or at least the way my mother treated me. Being trained to never disrespect her elders, and never having the chutzpah to tell my mother off, Diane would always wait until my mother walked away and then imitate her.

She did a pretty damn good imitation too.

I couldn’t help it; I did what I always do and defended my mother.

“Di, you know she just doesn’t know any better. She doesn’t realize how she sounds. She had it rough growing up.”

“For God’s sake, Hope. Stop making excuses for her. She’s selfish and downright cruel at times. Personally, I don’t know how
you
turned out so well. She’s a piece of work!”

I closed my eyes and a vision of my father appeared.

“Daddy. I just thank my lucky stars for my dad.”

She nodded. “Yeah, he was a sweetheart. You know, I had a crush on your dad. He had the cutest ass.”

“Diane! You’re talking about my father!”

I suddenly felt the atmosphere in the car changed and the air felt heavy, like a fog had seeped in through the windows. My mood was getting darker.

“He was such a sweet man,” she continued, “and you were the light of his life. The only time I think I ever saw your dad get angry was when your mother would get on your case. I remember once she was bitching about what you were wearing, and I thought he was going to haul over and punch her. I think he even told her to shut up! I was shocked. He was always so quiet and laid back.” She let out a loud laugh. “And she did, that was the best part. For the first time in her life, I think your mother was speechless.”

She pulled up to my driveway, and put the car in neutral.

“Look, Hope, if you’re attracted to this guy, go for it. Not all men are Richard.”

I smiled. I wasn’t even going to reply to that one.

“Drive safe,” I told her as I got out and closed the door. She rolled the window down.

“I mean it Hope.”

“I know, Di. And he’s cute, your Justin. I think you may have found your soul mate.”

She raised her right hand, fingers crossed. “I hope so,” she said, and then drove off.

I walked into the house and for some reason, the quiet and stillness bothered me tonight. In the beginning, when Richard first left, I dreaded it. But eventually I realized that not only did Richard leave, but so did the tension that filled the air when he was around. I started to look forward to coming home to an empty house. I enjoyed the routine of getting into my flannel pajamas, sinking down into the worn-out sofa with my legs tucked under me, watching something I recorded on the DVR and eating popcorn. But tonight my cozy living room felt hollow; the room felt one-dimensional and flat. I glanced at my watch. I was relieved to see it was 1:00 in the morning. It gave me an excuse to just go to sleep.

I could see the blinking red light of my answering machine glowing on the wall behind it. I figured it was just my mother and was going to ignore it; but then thinking it might be work, I decided to hit the play button.

“Hope, its Mom. Call me back. I don’t care what time it is. I saw Sally in the beauty parlor.”

Oh crap, now I was in trouble. Sally was Diane’s mother. “She told me Diane met somebody and she was home this weekend. Call me. Love you.”

The next message was from Cindy.

“Hi Hope. I thought I’d let you know a Detective Whitley called. Said it wasn’t important, but if you can, give her a call.” She rattled off the telephone number. I hope your date was good. Can’t wait to hear about it. See you Monday. Ciao.”

Three more messages were just hang-ups. I bet that if I checked my caller ID I’d find it was my mother. I looked at my watch again.

She can wait till morning
, I thought.
I’m going to bed.

I got undressed, crawled into my big, empty bed, scrunched up my pillow, and laid down. I could picture Marty Keal’s wavy black hair, thick lashes, and sky-blue eyes. As I lay there visualizing him, for some reason, I started to cry. I was lonely
—
and there was no way in the world this very attractive, nice man would want to be with me. I silently cursed my mother for making me feel this way; so insecure and unsure of myself. I shut my eyes and willed myself to fall asleep.

Early the next morning, I reached out to answer the telephone which was ringing incessantly. I missed and the handset fell, the curly cord hanging and getting tangled in my hair. Cursing, I looked at the clock. Then I realized it wasn’t the phone ringing, but the doorbell. With the help of a few expletives, I managed to untangle the cord and dragged myself to the front door.

“Who is it?” I asked, wondering who would be cruel enough to ring my doorbell at 8:00 on a Saturday morning.

“It’s your mother!” was the shrill answer from the other side of the door.

“Damn,” I mumbled as I unhooked the chain and opened the door.

“Didn’t you get my message last night? I told you to call me when you got home.” She barged in shamelessly.

“Mom, it was late, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Wake me—you think I was going to sleep? I heard you had a date!” She glanced around the room; I got the feeling she was looking to see if my date had slept over. I silently cursed Diane’s mother.

“Yes, I had a date. Would you like some coffee?”

She walked into the kitchen like it was her own and went about making enough coffee for both of us. She frowned as she opened the fridge, taking in the inventory.

“So?” She was slamming cabinet doors and drawers now, as she searched for cups and utensils. She turned and looked at me.

“So,” she repeated, “Tell me about this date.” It wasn’t a request
—
it was an order.

“Ma, it’s eight o’clock in the morning. Couldn’t this wait?”

“I can’t believe you went out on a date, Hope and Sally knew about it, while I, your own mother, was clueless!”

“I’m sorry, mom. It came up at the last minute, and I didn’t have a
—
”

“Sally said you and Diane made plans days ago.”

I could hear the hurt in her voice. I was caught in a lie. “Well, I wasn’t really sure I was going to go. I wasn’t even sure it was going to happen.”

“So?”

I hesitated, grabbing the carafe and pouring us both a cup. “It was nice.” I didn’t know what to be more careful about, burning my tongue on the hot coffee, or how I was going to tell her about the date
—
the later having the potential to be more painful.

“What’s his name?”

“Marty.”

“Marty what? Maybe I know his family.” I knew she was trying to see if Marty’s last name sounded Jewish. I ignored her, so she tried a different approach.