Mary Clark - A Cry In The Night

“But I have to tell you. Like I told Maw, it’s just that you’re the kind of person I want to find when I get serious about a girl. I explained that to Maw. She was so worried because she always said my uncle would have had such a different life if it wasn’t for Caroline. But even that’s working out. My uncle hasn’t had a drop since my accident and they’re getting together again.”

“Who’s getting together again?”

“My uncle was keeping company at the time of the accident. When John Krueger told everybody Uncle Josh had been so careless ’cause he was mooning around Caroline, his girl got so upset she broke the engagement. And then my uncle began drinking. But now after all these years, they’re starting to see each other.”

“Joe, who is your uncle seeing?”

“The girl he used to go around with. Woman, now, of course. You know, Jenny. Your housekeeper, Elsa.”

Elsa had been engaged to Josh Brothers. She had never married. How much bitterness might have built up over the years against the Kruegers? Why had she taken the job at the farmhouse? The way Erich treated her was so belittling. Elsa could have taken the coat from the closet. Elsa could have overheard her and Erich talking. Elsa might have pumped the girls about Kevin.

But why?

She had to talk to someone; she had to trust someone.

Jenny stopped. The wind slapped at her forehead. There was one person she could trust, someone whose face now filled her vision.

She could trust Mark and he should be back from Florida by now.

As soon as she reached the house, she looked up the number of Mark’s clinic and phoned. Dr. Garrett was expected any minute; who was calling?

She did not want to leave her name. “What time would be good to reach him?”

“His clinic hours are between five and seven P.M.”

She’d call him at home after that.

She walked over to the office. Clyde was just locking the desk. There was a wariness, a constraint between them now. “Clyde, how’s Rooney?” she asked.

“I’m bringing her home for good tomorrow. But, Miz Krueger, one thing. I’d appreciate it if you stay away from Rooney. I mean don’t ask her to your house; don’t visit her.” He looked unhappy. “Dr. Philstrom says Rooney getting into a stress situation could set her back.”

“And I’m that stress situation?”

“All I know, Miz Krueger, is that Rooney ain’t seen Caroline walking around the hospital.”

“Clyde, before you lock up that desk, I wish you’d give me some money. Erich left so suddenly that I only have a few dollars and I need to get some odds and ends. Oh, yes, may I borrow your car to go into town?”

Clyde turned the key and dropped it in his pocket. “Erich was real plain about that, Miz Krueger. He don’t want you borrowing cars and he told me anything you need till he gets back, you should just tell me and I’ll see you get it. But he said real emphatic that he don’t want no money given to you. He said it’ll cost me my job if I give you a dime from the farm funds or lend my own money to you.”

Something in her face made him adapt a friendlier tone. “Miz Krueger, you’re not to want for anything. Just tell me what you need.”

“I need…” Jenny bit her lip, turned and slammed out of the office. She ran along the path, tears of rage and humiliation blinding her.

The late-afternoon shadows were spreading like curtains on the pale brick of the farmhouse. At the edge of the woods the tall Norwegian pines were vividly lush against the stark nakedness of the maples and birches. The sun, hidden behind heavy charcoal clouds, was sending diffused rays over the horizon, streaking the sky with coldly beautiful shades of mauve and pink and cranberry.

A winter sky. A winter place. It had become her prison.

At eight minutes after seven, Jenny reached for the phone to call Mark. Her hand was touching the receiver when the phone rang. She grabbed it off the cradle. “Hello.”

“Jenny, you must be sitting on top of the phone. Are you waiting for a call?” There was an edge to the teasing quality in Erich’s tone.

Jenny felt her palms go damp. Instinctively she tightened her grasp on the receiver. “I’ve been hoping to hear from you.” Did she sound natural? Did her nervousness show? “Erich, how are the girls?”

“They’re fine, of course. What have you been doing today, Jenny?”

“Not much. Now that Elsa doesn’t come in, I’m a bit busier in the house. I rather like that.” Closing her eyes, trying to choose her words, she added lightly, “Oh, I saw Joe.” She hurried on, not wanting to lie, not wanting to admit that she’d gone to the Ekers home. “He’s so pleased that you rehired him, Erich.”

“I suppose he told you the rest of the conversation I had with him?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that garbled story about seeing you get in the car and then deciding he hadn’t seen you. You never admitted to me that Joe actually told you he’d seen you in the car that night. I always thought it was only Rooney who saw you.”

“But Joe said… he told me that he told you… he’s positive it was someone else wearing my coat.”

“Jen, have you signed that statement?”

“Erich, don’t you see we have a witness who swears…”

“What you mean is we have a witness who knows he saw you and who, to ingratiate himself with me, to get back his job, is now willing to change his story. Jenny, stop trying to avoid the truth. Either have that statement ready to read to me next time I call or forget about seeing the girls until they’re adults.”

Jenny’s control snapped. “You can’t do this. I’ll swear out a warrant. They’re my children. You can’t run away with them.”

“Jenny, they’re just as much mine as yours. I’ve only taken them on a vacation. I’ve warned you there’s no judge who would award them to you. I have a townful of witnesses who’ll swear I’m a wonderful father. Jenny, I love you enough to give you a chance to live with them, to be cared for yourself. Don’t push me too hard. Good-bye, Jenny. I’ll call you soon.”

Jenny stared at the dead receiver. All the tenuous confidence she had started to build vanished. Give up, something said to her. Write the confession. Read it to him. Be finished with it.

No. Biting her lips into a thin, firm line she dialed Mark’s number.

He answered on the first ring. “Dr. Garrett.”

“Mark.” Why did that deep, warm voice bring quick tears to her eyes?

“Jenny. What’s the matter? Where are you?”

“Mark, I… Could you… I have to talk to you.” She paused, then went on: “But I wouldn’t want anyone to see you here. If I cut through the west field, would you pick me up? Unless… I mean… If you have plans, don’t bother…”

“Wait near the millhouse. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

Jenny went up to the master bedroom and turned on the reading light by the bed. She left a light on in the kitchen, a smaller one in the parlor. Clyde might investigate if the house was completely dark.

She’d have to take the chance that Erich wouldn’t phone again in the next few hours.

She left the house and walked in the shadow of the stable and polebarns. Behind the electric fences she could see the outlines of the cattle as they hunched near the barns. There was no grazing on the snow-covered ground and they tended to stay near the buildings where they were fed.

Less than ten minutes after she reached the mill, she heard the faint sound of a car approaching. Mark was driving with his parking lights on. She stood out in the clearing and waved. He stopped, leaned over and opened the door for her.

He seemed to understand that she wanted to get away quickly. It wasn’t until they reached the county road that he spoke. “I understood you were in Houston with Erich, Jenny.”