Jeff Shelby - Wicked Break

I called Marie Pluto and told her that her nephew was okay but I wasn’t sure where he was. She told me that he’d already called her and was going to stay with her for a while. She thanked me for my time, told me the remainder of my fee would be in the mail the following day, and promised to keep in touch.

I hoped that she wouldn’t, but didn’t tell her that.

“Sure,” Liz answered. “What for?”

I slowed at the off-ramp. “Just want to check on Carolina. I told her I’d call her after we had dinner the other night and haven’t had a chance.”

“Sure,” she repeated, a soft smile on her face.

The thick early morning fog was melting away, leaving a wet haze behind. I figured by the time we got to Santa Barbara, there’d be nothing but sunshine.

I needed it.

We pulled up at the curb and I cut the engine. “You mind waiting?”

“Take as long as you need,” Liz said.

I walked up the path to the house, free of the anxiety and questions that had wracked me the last couple of times I’d been to the house. Our dinner had been good and helped cleanse a few things.

Maybe the fractures in our relationship could heal.

I rang the doorbell.

No answer.

I knocked and got the same response.

I turned the doorknob and it opened, so I stepped in.

And right back to my childhood.

There were at least six empty vodka bottles scattered around the coffee table. The stale smell of booze clung to the air and seemed almost tangible. Paper plates and glasses, several days old, were strewn across the carpeting.

Peeking into the kitchen, I saw the sink and counter were full of dishes that hadn’t seen cleaning in a while.

I took a deep breath and walked back to the bedroom.

Carolina was passed out on the bed, snarled among the sheets and blankets. Her blouse was wrinkled and unbuttoned. Her makeup was smudged, the mascara having run down past her eyes, giving her face a macabre appearance.

I walked closer to the bed.

Her chest rose and fell evenly, as she breathed out through her mouth.

I’d stood in the exact same spot and seen the exact same thing so many times before.

The relationships that had been destroyed in the last week flashed through my mind.

I had hoped that Carolina and I were repairing ours. But she’d made a promise that she couldn’t keep. It wasn’t so much about anger as it was disappointment. A week earlier, maybe I would have stormed out of the house and made some sort of declaration about a future without her.

Instead, I pulled the blankets over her as best I could and locked the front door to the house behind me when I left.

I looked at Liz sitting in my car. Her head was back-she was probably dozing. There was nothing I could do about Carolina at the moment. But another chance with Liz was in front of me and that was more than enough to satisfy me for the time being.

I got in the car, stuck the key in the ignition, did a U-turn, and pointed us back toward the freeway.

Her eyes on me for a few minutes before she spoke.

As we glided down the on-ramp, she asked, “Everything okay?”

I moved the Jeep into the fast lane, thinking again of Linc, Peter, Malia, Deacon, Lonnie, and my mother. Chances missed and chances taken.

I reached over and covered Liz’s hand with mine, determined to find that sunshine up the coast.