David Handler - The sour cherry surprise

“I’m not… exactly sure how to answer that,” Carolyn said slowly. “I still feel like I’m not here. Not me. Haven’t been me. Somebody else. Somebody wired and crazy. Or a-a total zombie. God, how do I feel?” She blinked at Des several times, then lowered her blue eyes to the clean white sheet covering her. “Like I want to crawl under this bed and stay there. I’m ashamed of myself. And so tired. I-I keep falling asleep thinking it’s all just one big nightmare. But then I wake up and I remember it’s not. It’s all happening. It’s really happening.”

“We’re going to get through this, sweetie,” Megan said reassuringly. “I promise you we will.”

“Richard is dead!“ Carolyn cried out. “I thought we would always be together. I thought we were happy. We had each other. And Molly. And our work. Then one day he walks in and tells me there’s someone else and he…” She let out a jagged sob. “Just like that it was over. Meggie, I know you two never exactly got along.”

“That’s not true.”

Carolyn’s eyes flashed at her. “It is so. You hated him. Don’t pretend otherwise.”

“I loved Richard,” Megan insisted, keeping her voice gentle. “I just thought he could be a bit full of himself, that’s all. Everything was always about his career. He treated yours like it was nothing more than a cute little hobby. Which I happened to find very condescending. But as long as you were happy together then I was happy for you.”

Des soaked up this exchange with great interest. Megan Chichester was the only person she’d encountered so far who had a single bad word to say about Richard Procter. Had the negative feelings been mutual? “Carolyn, did Richard tell you who this other woman was?”

Carolyn gazed at her blankly. “Why do you need to know that?”

“Just trying to connect the dots. It’s what they pay me to do.”

“I asked him not to. I didn’t want to know. Didn’t want to keep running into her at the beauty parlor and the hardware store knowing. I simply told him to leave. And he did. This was… a few weeks ago. After that, I was so thrown that I did things I don’t usually do. I-I can’t explain why.”

“You don’t have to explain why,” Megan said soothingly. “You went a little nutty. We all do that sometimes. That’s what keeps us sane.”

“Meggie, I went a lot nutty. Drank way too much. Brought strange men home with me. Got into dope. Me who never so much as smoked a joint before.”

“She’s not kidding about that,” Megan told Des. “When we were kids Carolyn was always the goody-goody. I was the bad seed.”

“Carolyn, what can you tell me about Clay Mundy?”

She stiffened slightly at the mention of his name. “He was… real sweet. Helpful, caring. A nice man. Or at least I thought he was. He’s not. Nor is Hector. Those two made me do things that I would never, ever…” Carolyn broke off, shuddering violently. “They had friends who’d show up sometimes with deliveries. I did them, too. I had to. If I objected they’d hit me. Or burn me with cigarettes. Or tie me to the bedpost and do what they wanted no matter what. They kept me so stoned that I barely even knew what I was doing. I had no idea if it was day or night. Who they were. Who I was. But I couldn’t make it stop. And after a while it all just seemed… normal. These nurses can shove me in that shower a million times, but I don’t think I’ll ever feel clean again for the rest of my…” Carolyn’s eyes suddenly widened with fright. “What if I’ve picked up some horrible sexually transmitted disease?”

Megan reached over and stroked her forehead. “They’re checking you for every little thing, sweetie. You’re going to be fine. Don’t you worry.”

Carolyn breathed in and out, her calm slowly returning. “Clay’s dope really pulled me in. I was swallowed up before I knew what hit me. I wanted to be swallowed up. Today… this is the first time my head’s been close to clear in ages. I can actually tell the difference between right and wrong. But if you were to stick a blow pipe in front of me right now I’d lunge for it. Give me half a chance and I’ll start up again as soon as I go home.”

“That’s why you’re not going home,” Megan told her.

“Meggie, I can’t stay here forever.”

“As soon as you feel stronger you’ll start your counseling sessions. Those will continue even after you’re discharged. And there are all kinds of support programs. And you’ve got me to look out for you.”

“Is Clay… is he still there?”

“He’s still residing in your home, yes,” Des said. “He and Hector both.”

“I don’t want them there. I don’t want them anywhere near Molly.”

“Molly’s safe. She’s with Kimberly and Jen.”

“And I’ll tell the bastards to get out,” Megan promised her.

“They won’t listen to you.”

“They’ll listen to me,” Des said. “And you have my word that neither man will be around Sour Cherry Lane for much longer.”

“My sweet little baby girl,” Carolyn sighed. “Her father’s dead and her mother’s a drugged out whore. God, what must she think of me?”

“She’s concerned about you,” Megan said. “But she’s resilient and she’s strong.”

“And a lot of good people are looking out for her,” Des said. “Not only the Beckwiths but Amber and Keith. Also Bella.”

“And your friend Mitch, I bet,” Carolyn said, nodding her head. “I know Molly adores him.”

“Well, no. Mitch moved back to New York.”

Carolyn looked at Des in disbelief. “I knew that. You two broke up months ago. Sorry, there are big chunks of things I keep forgetting.”

“The doctor told you there might be short term memory lapses,” Megan said. “But you’re going to get better, sweetie. As soon as you feel up to it we’ll head home to the farm and I’ll put you to work out in the fresh air. You’ll be your old self before you know it. Everything’s going to be fine.”

“If you say so,” said Carolyn, unconvinced.

“How much do you know about Clay’s business?” Des asked her.

“He never works at it very hard. Although he and Hector always have plenty of money. That’s all I know.”

“Those men who you said were making deliveries-deliveries of what?”

“Haven’t the slightest idea. I wasn’t very conscious of what went on outside of my bedroom.”

“Do you remember when I came to your house to tell you that Richard had been hospitalized?”

“Maybe,” she answered drowsily. “Not really.”

“How about when Richard showed up there last week?”

“He wanted to come home. I didn’t want to see him. Or him to see me. I told Clay to make him go away.”

“Carolyn, what can you tell me about last night? Think hard, please. Any light you can shed will be a tremendous help. Did Richard show up there again? Did he knock on your door? Ask to see you?”

Carolyn’s eyelids were starting to droop. “I don’t remember anything like that. Richard knocking on the door. Or anybody else. Doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. I was so high that anybody could have been… They heated up a pizza.”

“Clay and Hector?”

“They were in the kitchen playing cards. I was in bed with my iPod, blissing out on Green. I still love R.E.M. When I was in college they were the coolest band. So smart and hip.”

“What else do you remember?”

“Hector,” she replied, curling her lip in disgust. “He came in and did what he felt like. He smells really bad. I don’t know, maybe I crashed after that. Until there was this huge commotion.”

Des leaned forward slightly. “What kind of commotion?”

“You coming in to tell me that Richard was dead. Only I didn’t believe you. I wanted to see him for myself. And there were police cars. And neighbors standing out there staring at me and…” She trailed off. “I wigged out, didn’t I?”