The Truth About Mallory Bain (29 page)

She yanked our jackets off the hangers one-handed. Before we knew it, we were sitting in Lance's car. When we were walking away from the house, however, I'd noticed Dana holding something behind her back. She waved to us from the sidewalk, and before she closed the door, I saw the headless body of a doll.

“That was a bum's rush.” Lance put the car in reverse. “Glad it's over.”

I turned around to Caleb sitting in the backseat. “How did Emma's doll break?”

His eyes opened wide. “It didn't.”

“Between the time Emma reached the dining room and Dana hurried us out the door, that doll lost its head.”

Lance stared straight ahead in silence. Then he grimaced and shifted position.

“Are you all right?”

“Heartburn.” He flipped Vivaldi's
Andante
to the backseat speakers and spoke softly. “Dana popped the head off that doll. When the kids ran through the kitchen, that doll was fine.”

Silence.

“I hope you don't have heartburn because your food was bad.”

“No. I'm stuffed.” He chuckled. “How's your stomach?”

“Jack Harwood!”

Lance guffawed. “I inquire about your health and you toss out the name of another man at me. There's a new way of dumping a guy.” “No,” I laughed. “I am not dumping you. I'm not dumping anybody,” slipped out as an afterthought. An afterthought about Ben.

“Jack was a friend in our group years ago. And there's this date, May thirteenth. I have been racking my brain trying to remember why it was important.”

“That date connects to Jack Harwood how?”

“He and Dana had an awful argument. A break-up fight.”

“They fought on May thirteenth, when?”

“A little over seven years ago.”

“And you remembered now because?”

Our friendship was too new for him to know about my messenger from the afterlife.

“She took the same argumentative tone with me tonight as she did with him that morning.”

“She does love to bicker.”

“She was condescending.”

“She's condescending to everybody, Mallory. I'm surprised Erik doesn't leave her. She takes long trips without him or Emma sometimes. He doubts it's business. I suspect she's cheating.”

“Not work-related trips?” I asked.

“He thinks not.”

“Well, she's not cheating with Jack. He was long before Erik.”

“Where is he now?”

I rolled my shoulders. “And there's our mystery. Nobody knows.”

“He must have been awfully important to you.”

“Because he was a good friend to all of us during those years. He and others moved on and we never heard from them again.”

“A decent guy, then.”

“He was. Ronnie and I can't find him when we search.”

“Dropping off the grid is next to impossible.” Lance took his eyes off the road to look at me, his expression serious. “Your Jack Harwood may have ended up badly. You say he and Dana argued.”

“Yes. And Ronnie and I think he's dead.”

Lance became silent.

I leaned my head against the headrest and listened to the music. After arriving home, I scooted Caleb off to bed and tucked him in. As though he sensed I needed time alone with Lance, he passed on his usual bedtime story and went straight to sleep.

Lance was shoving his DVD into his jacket pocket when I returned downstairs.

“I meant to give you that earlier.”

He pulled it back out of his pocket. “Keep it. Maybe your mom and her boyfriend want to watch it.”

“I'll ask. Thanks.”

He set the movie down on the end table next to the sofa. “I should get going. It's late.”

“It's Saturday.” I moved closer, longing for more intimacy than I believed I was ready for but more than willing to try.

He held me firmly at arm's length. “This week at work was brutal. I am sorry, Mallory. I'm too exhausted to stay a minute longer. Any second now my eyes will shut and won't open 'til morning.”

He'd been fine on Friday. I gestured to the sofa. “Take a nap before you drive home or have a cup of coffee.”

“No. No, thanks. I'll be all right by morning. I'll call you. We'll plan the afternoon with Caleb.” He gently pinched my chin. “And a candlelight dinner for us.”

“Sounds romantic.”

He pulled me close and hugged me tight. “I promise.”

He lost enthusiasm. I worried the Jack Harwood conversation put him off. His parting kiss was nothing more than a faint brushing of my upper lip. His car backed out to the street. Tired as he was, there was nothing erratic about his driving. He even pulled alongside the curb to let the red motorcycle pass by. When he did, the rider raised his arm and gave Lance a wave.

Mom prattled on about their trip to Iowa after she returned home late morning the next day. Carl wanted to return a day early, claiming he was tired. Truth was, according to Mom, he'd grown tired of his brother winning cribbage and gloating.

“She makes the prettiest quilts, Mallory, and she sells them at craft shows all over Iowa. I gave her Elaine's number so maybe they can share ideas.”

“Expand their selling territory. Good idea.”

“Here, I'll show you a few pictures I took.” Mom took out her phone. “Pick one and I'll buy it for you. Nice and warm. Not heavy, either.” She paused on one picture. “This heart quilt is my favorite.”

“They are nice, and I'm sure a lot of work, but I'm not a quilt person, Mom. Try Aileen and Natalie.”

“Oh well, then.” She sipped her coffee. “You and Lance went to the Fowlers last night.”

“A good dinner.”

“You look down.”

“He hasn't called, and we made plans for today. I think I upset him.”

“Unlikely.”

I folded my arms against my body. “I mentioned Jack Harwood was a friend back in college. I think my bringing him up might have made Lance jealous. There is no other reason why he wouldn't have called by now.”

“Knowing Jack years ago shouldn't bother Lance.”

“Thinking about another guy might. Lance might be a jealous man. I don't know how he is. I shouted Jack's name when I remembered the day he broke up with Dana.”

“I think you're imagining a problem exists where one doesn't.”

“I should have kept my mouth shut, but it was one of those meaningless thoughts a person has, and I said it out loud.”

“I hope you don't talk too much about Ben.”

“I hardly mentioned him. I keep my answers short whenever he asks. I'll never stop loving Ben, but I know I need to get over him.”

“Then you have dating jitters.”

“Funny, I don't feel jittery.”

“Getting acquainted, sharing those first special moments, dusting off your unused heart so you can love again. All that is stressful. Good stress, but nonetheless stressful.”

“I suppose you had jitters when you started seeing Carl.”

“Heavens no, I'm too old. If Carl hadn't been interested in me, I wouldn't have cared. Daddy loved me for decades.”

“Daddy still does. I know he thinks Carl is a nice guy, except I think Daddy could beat him at cribbage, too.”

“He always was good at cards. I hope he isn't upset that I'm seeing Carl.”

“He's glad you have somebody nice to take you on dates and all the way to Iowa for cider and apples.”

“And a new teakettle.” Mom was dreamy-eyed. “Lance will call. You'll laugh at yourself for being silly.”

My ringtone for unknown callers played. I grabbed my phone off the counter expecting a wrong number. It was Jillian Dale. She asked to come over. She had a matter to discuss in person.

“How odd.” I told Mom that Jillian added, “Don't call the Fowlers.” My speaking with them would confuse the reason she'd given them for wanting my number.

Mom looked expectantly at me. “Sounds as if she lied.”

“A lot of people dislike Dana and Erik these days. Even Lance.”

“They've always been nice to me.”

“It seemed strange how a few of their neighbors spent more time visiting with me than her or Erik at the party where I met Lance. Now one of them wants a private conversation.”

“People are funny. Way too particular if you ask me.” Mom ran water into the new teakettle she'd bought in Iowa. “They're too darn picky about who they're willing to like. Can't accept people for who they are. My parents brought us up to get along with everybody.

Of course, we steered clear of criminals.”

“Of course.”

“When Dana was here the day of your party I suspected she drinks too much. None of our business why.”

She took a plate from the cupboard above her head and placed cookies on it from Grandma's cookie jar on the counter. “We used to be more accepting of a person's foibles. Times have changed. Now if you don't act a certain way, always use the right words, people criticize you to death and you aren't worth bothering with.”

“I want the Fowlers out of my life, Mom.”

“Not because of what others think, I hope. You go ahead and like Dana if you want. Forgive her quirks and forget the others. Maybe she needs a strong friend to lean on. Help her through her troubles.”

The doorbell later chimed above the teakettle whistle. I answered the door and Jillian stepped into the living room, declining my offer to hang up her jacket.

“You got here fast. You must have called from outside my house.”

“Almost.” She sat on the sofa and patted the cushion for me to sit beside her.

“You look as if you're carrying the weight of the world.” I squeezed her hand gently.

She shook her head slowly. “I am carrying the weight of the world.” Tears welled in her eyes. Her mouth opened as she prepared to speak, but faltered. “Travis tells me you and Lance are dating.”

“Yes. We are.” I paused.

“We thought you needed to hear this from us. I'm here about Lance.” She quieted, bowed her head.

“Go on.”

“He made a desperate call to Travis during the night.” She paused, her voice quavered. “Mallory, Lance died this morning.”

My mouth fell open. “He what?” The tears streamed from my eyes because tears were always right below the surface. “You're wrong.”

She spoke softly while I cried.

“He sent Travis part of a text late last night about being seriously ill. When Travis called back first thing this morning, a police officer answered but he didn't say much. Travis had to track down the hospital where they'd taken Lance. We found out a while ago that he died, and I got in the car as soon as we heard.”

Little feet were hopping in the kitchen. Mom was speaking to Caleb. My body went limp. I was sitting in the spot where Lance had been sitting when he held me in his arms. The spot where I decided to give him a chance and let him kiss me and begin to love me.

“He can't be dead.”

“We don't know how.”

My body shook. An uncontrollable sobbing moan rose from deep within me. I fell against her and wept.

C
HAPTER
E
IGHTEEN

T
ravis phoned Monday evening to say the funeral was in the planning stages for later in the week due to the forensic autopsy. He'd taken the liberty of sharing my number with the Garners. My friendship with their son was new, less than a month out. Nevertheless, they wanted to meet me.

Jillian and I spoke several times between Sunday and Wednesday. She found out that Lance must have become increasingly ill during the night. A neighbor heard loud crashing noises and called the police. Whatever Lance succumbed to, it caused him to move through his condo knocking over lamps and falling into tables before he collapsed near the door. He was pronounced dead shortly after arriving at the hospital.

Knowing he died alone, as Ben had died alone, broke my heart. I cried constantly. Apart from the hospital staff, who I'm confident cared and did their best for both men, no loving family member or loyal friend had stood by either man's deathbed.

Doctor Benson gave me the week off. Ronnie and Sam stopped in Monday evening. She said she missed not being there for me when Ben died and vowed to stay close now.

Rick and Natalie showed up, too. My brother remembered those unbearable days following Ben's death. Like Ronnie and Sam, my brother and sister-in-law stayed for hours.

Caleb spent more time with Gavin. His hours away allowed me to grieve openly. He told Christine he was sad because he knew I was crying. She told me that she reminded him often how much I wanted him to spend happy days with Gavin instead of feeling unhappy, too.

Caleb took a few meals here and slept a few nights at home. His laughter ceased and he no longer recited his monkey rhyme. Without my son's cheerfulness, my hopelessness deepened. We no longer heard whispers or knocking on the upstairs windows. All was quiet and the rooms were warm, as though the spirit withdrew and waited.

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