Sparkle (18 page)

She explored the house. She looked in all the rooms and all the closets. She looked through the fridge and in the cupboards. She stopped short of looking in Joe and Eddie’s personal drawers, although she didn’t hesitate to check out the medicine cabinet. An enormous ancient claw-foot tub in the seemingly unused main-floor bathroom intrigued her. She liked baths.

LaVonne was impressed by the overall deep cleanliness of the house, but she wasn’t especially surprised. The funny thing was that although the house was really clean, it wasn’t exactly orderly. Things seemed to be placed a little randomly. The only messy room in the house was Joe’s. It also stank from too many cigarettes.

After an hour, she sat down at the kitchen table and checked out the soaps, talk shows, and court television programs on Joe’s little TV. Problems, problems, problems. The only thing good about it was that, at least on TV, everyone seemed to have more problems than she did. She hoped that getting involved with Joe wasn’t going to create a bunch of new ones.

She finally grew bored and started to get a little more concerned. What would happen if something really was wrong with Eddie? What would happen if Joe didn’t find him?

As the day wore on, Joe lit one cigarette off the other, until the van’s ashtray was so full he couldn’t get another butt in it. Although he’d stopped for smokes, he felt too guilty to stop again for food.

By five-thirty, he was exhausted and starving and working to hold back panic at the thought of having to call Louis again. He drove and drove and drove. He didn’t know what else to do. Once he stopped, he’d really be in the shit.

Chapter 26

At seven-thirty that morning, Jolie had walked briskly out of her small West Seattle rental cottage, climbed into her red, 1997 Honda coupe, and drove off to work.

Two minutes later, a cab drove up in front of her house.

Eddie got out. His canvas Mariners bag was packed full.

He looked at Jolie’s house. Perfect.

It hadn’t been hard. He’d looked up Jolie’s address in the phone book. Knowing her last name had made it easy. Then he’d looked up the number for the cab and called, gave his address, and waited in front of the house. Once Eddie saw a number he never forgot it. When the cab arrived, all he had to do was tell the driver Jolie’s address. He hadn’t had to say another word.

When they arrived, the meter said fifteen dollars, so Eddie gave the driver a twenty and climbed out, carrying his canvas M’s bag and another big bag of stuff. So simple. Not even a little uncomfortable. In fact, it had all sparkled.

And now he was going to make Jolie’s birthday sparkle, make sure she had the best birthday ever.

Eddie walked up, rang the bell, and waited. He knew how to be patient.

But there was no answer.

He knocked. He waited. Still no answer.

He peered through a narrow window with small panes running all down the side of the door. He tried the doorknob. It was locked.

Suddenly, he felt a bit woozy. He tried it again.

“Man-sized mess.” Stupid.

After a full minute, Eddie wheeled and walked slowly, stiffly down the path. He reached the street and stopped. Dead still. “Man-sized mess.”

It was a major complication, and his head was filling with noise. He felt nauseated, and he stood very still to get himself under control.

After another full minute, Eddie put down his M’s bag, unzipped it, and reached inside. He pulled out his game ball, which was wrapped in some Easter paper he had found. It was part of Jolie’s present. He’d made the catch for her. Actually, he’d made the catch for a lot of reasons. But it was dedicated to her. He had to get it to her. The situation had taken a seriously agitating turn. If he thought about it too much, he might really get stuck. He had to use his determination, follow his instincts.

He decided to use one of his oldest tricks. He’d close his eyes and give himself five breaths to empty his mind. When he opened them, he’d know what to do.

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut. One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

He opened his eyes, picked up his bag, and walked fast back to Jolie’s door. He used the ball to break through one of the little windows next to the door.

“Uh-huh,” he said. “Okay.”

Eddie reached gingerly through the small square opening. His arm barely fit through. He opened the door from the inside and walked in.

Once inside, he was flooded with a sense of contentment. His breath became slow, deep, and even. He was going to take his time and enjoy himself. He had something to give. Something very special.

Eddie walked into the kitchen and looked around. That was where he wanted to leave the baseball: right in the middle of the kitchen table. Being forced to break the window was a minor glitch, but he had plenty of Joe’s money in his pocket. He’d gladly pay for it. He counted out five twenties and carefully put them underneath the ball, then walked back to the living room, looking at everything.

Jolie’s house wasn’t clean at all—and that was great.

He opened his extra bag and spread out his cleaning supplies. He took off his clothes and carefully folded them. Usually, he didn’t particularly care for cleaning jobs that didn’t involve blood. But Eddie couldn’t remember ever feeling so content.

Just before he started cleaning, he was shocked to feel the painful thumping twist in his heart that made him stand stock still, flooded with a sensation that made him think of his mom. He usually felt it only at crime jobs.

The feeling passed quickly, and Eddie was soon lost in his work. He was going to make every inch of Jolie’s home sparkle.

Jolie’s coworkers gave her a cake for lunch. She didn’t really care for cake, especially grocery-store birthday cake with white sugar icing. The gesture was nice, though, and by cutting and smooshing the huge piece they gave her into her paper plate, she made it look as though she’d eaten quite a bit even though she’d barely taken a bite.

Mark was behind it, of course. He stood by, beaming, as Jolie dutifully blew out her twenty-eight candles, and then sang “Happy Birthday” louder and more off-key than anyone else.

It was Jolie’s day to muck out the stables in the petting zoo. She actually didn’t mind it, but as a “birthday treat,” her friend Tracy offered to help her out. “You don’t look a day older,” Tracy said, as Jolie scooped goat droppings into an oversized bucket. “More glamorous than ever.”

Jolie didn’t laugh.

“Okay—what up, girlfriend?”

Jolie didn’t answer.

“Hey. Earth to Jolie.”

“Huh? I’m sorry Trace. What did you say?”

“Well, you don’t seem too happy. What’s going on?”

“Oh, nothing. You know my client, Eddie?”

“Yeah. He’s cute.”

“I’m a little worried about him. His brother called this morning and said something about him coming to the zoo. Like he’s missing or something. And Mark’s been —I don’t know, he’s been weird, kind of on my case about Eddie. I don’t know what would be worse—Eddie coming here or not coming here.”

“Yeah, Mark told me what happened Saturday.”

Jolie snapped to attention. “What did he say?”

“He said he touched Eddie and he was afraid he was going to hit him or something.”

“Errgh. That’s definitely one side of the story. Tell me the truth Tracy: what do you think of Mark?”

“He’s okay. If you like Mormons.”

“Right.”

“I know he’s got a major crush on you.”

“What’s your real take on him?”

Tracy laughed as they dumped their buckets into the composter. “I only have one method of finding that out and I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“Yeah, well I’m trying to resist it, myself.”

“Girlfriend, don’t settle. You could get anyone you want.”

Look, Trace, keep an eye out for Eddie today. And if he does show up here, keep him away from Mark and get him to me, okay?”

“Sure thing birthday girl. Anything you want. And tonight I am going to get you drunk enough that you stop worrying about everything.”

“I’m not worrying,” Jolie said. “Just a little. It’s not really worry, though. It’s something else. I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

Jolie debated over giving Joe a call, just to check in. But she didn’t want Mark giving her any more grief, and she didn’t want guarded, easily flustered Joe to feel that she was being pushy or nosy. And strangely—very strangely—Jolie couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever he was doing with his day, Eddie was fine. She didn’t know how she knew it, but she did.

The morning drifted by quickly. Lunch was a blur. The afternoon was over before she knew it. Jolie worked automatically and fluidly. All was well with the animals. Their routines and hers melded into a simple comforting dance. Jolie felt as if she was outside of her body, watching herself move through the day in a dream. The sensation was odd, but not at all unpleasant.

As much as she liked Tracy, their dinner and drinks date was another off note in her thoughts. Knowing Tracy, there’d be a whole group of people there. Which would probably include Mark. And lots of loud talk, and too much to drink. Normally it would all be fine. But what Jolie really craved was a nice glass of wine, a good book, and a quiet uneventful evening all alone at home.

Still, she felt lighthearted when she pulled up in front of her house. She’d rally, and the dinner would be fun. She’d come home as early as possible. One of the benefits of having a Monday birthday was that everyone had to go to work the next day.

Jolie’s coupe was crowded with balloons. As she got out of the car, a red one escaped into the sky. She followed it with her eyes until it disappeared in the high distance.

There was a purple envelope in her mailbox from an old friend. Jolie was carrying an armload of things and trying to read the card as she jangled her keys out of her pocket. She didn’t notice the broken windowpane next to the front door.

Inside, she set the balloons free and dumped her things on a chair. She looked around and took two steps, then stopped, confused. Her home looked totally different than it had when she’d left it.

She walked slowly into the kitchen, looking left and right. It was spotless. She’d never seen her home looking like this, not even on the day she moved in. She felt a twinge of fear, but it shifted quickly to pure confusion. The place was clean. Absolutely pristine.

Then it came to her: her friends must have hired a cleaning service. All day long Mark kept telling her every chance he got—in passing, thank goodness—that they had a birthday surprise for her, but she hadn’t expected anything like this. How did they get in, though?

Then it hit her. Tracy knew where Jolie kept her spare key. Jolie’s sloppiness was something of a standing joke at work. Mark must have found out about the key from Tracy. God, the place looks really amazing.

The thought lasted only a moment. Although she liked the transformation—it really was amazing how much difference it made—a sudden wave of realization that Mark had found a way to get someone inside her place washed Jolie with a cold feeling. He was trying too hard, and she needed to say something. Jolie dialed his number. She got his voice mail.

“Mark,” she said, carefully choosing her words, “I think I just got the surprise you were telling me about. I have to admit I’m a little shocked. My house does look wonderful. Really clean. But I’m really not comfortable getting this kind of gift. I appreciate the thought, I really do…” Jolie paused, unsure how to continue. “Um…maybe we should talk about this tomorrow, okay?” she finally said, then rang off. I’ll have to find a new place to hide that key.

She sighed, decided to put it out of her head for now. Right now she had to get ready. Tracy and her boyfriend would be coming to pick her up in less than an hour. She headed to the bathroom and opened the door, eager to get out of her frumpy brown uniform and step into what she was hoping would be a freshly scrubbed shower.

Instead, she nearly stumbled into Eddie. He was on his hands and knees in his underwear, kneepads, socks, and sneakers, spraying Shiny Gold and scrubbing away like mad at the toilet.

Jolie nearly screamed, but she raised her fist to her mouth and it came out more like a muffled “eek.” Her eyes went wide and her heart began pumping wildly. She was more confused than ever. Had Mark hired Eddie to do the cleaning? That was impossible, unless it was some kind of horribly sick joke. And why is he in his underwear?

Eddie didn’t react to the scream, except to stand up and turn around. His face was as calm as a child’s.

“Happy birthday, Jolie Walker,” he said.

Jolie still had her cell phone in her hand, and she instinctively dialed 911. The operator answered, and Jolie hesitated.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I accidentally dialed.”

“What is your location?”

“I—I’m driving. I’m sorry, I just hit wrong speed dial.”

“You shouldn’t be driving and dialing, Ma’am. What is your name, please?”

“Jolie. Jolie Walker.”

“And everything’s alright.”

“Yes. Yes, I’m sorry.”

The operator disconnected

Jolie looked at Eddie, standing there quietly in his underwear in her sparkling clean bathroom. He looked back at her. At her shoulder, anyway.

He didn’t say anything more. Jolie couldn’t seem to move or speak. Her breath was shallow and quick, but as she looked at Eddie, standing there peacefully, she found her panic unexpectedly, warmly enveloped by a sensation that was still, comfortable, and intimate. Although it made no sense at all, while it lasted the entire bizarre situation seemed like the most normal thing in the world. As safe and ordinary as walking with Eddie around the zoo. She forced herself to take a few deep breaths.

“Eddie, did you clean my whole place?”

“Uh-huh. Okay.”

“Who…Eddie, who’s idea was this?”

“Happy birthday, Jolie Walker.”

Then she knew. Eddie was doing this for her birthday.

“Was this your idea, Eddie?”

“Uh-huh. Okay.”

“You figured this out all by yourself?”

“Uh-huh. Okay.”

“Does anybody, anybody at all, know you’re here?”

He didn’t answer.

“Eddie, you need to answer me. Right now.”