Just Before Midnight Page 3

  All Jason had ever wanted to be was an Army Ranger. When he wrestled and played lacrosse in high school, he loved the team camaraderie and was competitive as anyone. But his drive was always to be ready to blow through physical testing so he could be part of some type of special ops division.

  Regina watched little Eduardo, sleeping. The doctor wanted the place quiet and had tried to send everyone home. But his momma wasn’t leaving.

  Regina’s phone vibrated and when she saw Douglas’s number she stepped out into the hall and picked up quickly.

  “What’s the story?”

  “I think we got off a lot easier than we deserved. No charges.”

  “How did you pull that off?”

  “Got all four boys over here. Officer Carver went with me, Hugh’s dad, and the boys to the restaurant and the gas station. We made restitution and the boys apologized. Very nicely I might add.”

  “Where were Duane and Scott’s folks?”

  “Duane’s mom is at work and you know there’s no dad there. Scott’s dad was at work, too.”

  “And there’s no mom there.”

  “Bingo.”

  “Are they going to pay us back?”

  “I’ll work on that, but frankly that’s the least of my worries right now.”

  “Money doesn’t grow on trees you know, Douglas. Especially not these days.”

  “Okay Regina, I will let you know when we’ll get paid back when I know. I do know where this conversation is going, so I’m signing off now.”

  “I’ve got more questions,” Regina said to nobody. The line was dead.

  Why in the world did I start a fight she wondered? No charges. I should be happy. Or at least not as miserable.

  Still, he shouldn’t have hung up.

  The out-of-date PA system squawked and a tinny voice said, “EMTs are making a special delivery. Critical condition. Assumed heart attack. Staff to front bay.”

  Still not too busy in the St. Elizabeth ER. But there’s still a little sun light outside. Give it some time.

  It’s Christmas Eve. Why did I start a fight with Douglas? He did good.

  7

  Eight Hours Earlier

  “Blame it on your dad. I can’t believe it either.”

  “I miss you gwandma,” a bubbly voice interrupted, with little Rachel’s face taking over the computer screen.

  How had they lived before the age of PCs and Skype and Facebook and one hundred other ways to stay connected? Roger would tell her that in the early days of video conferencing, it could cost his legal firm a thousand bucks an hour to connect face-to-face remotely. Now she and Roger had their own Skype account that did the same thing for free.

  Seeing Rachel’s face—despite a finger in her nose—gave Margaret a sharp pang of sadness that not even a dream trip to London could mask.

  “Tell everyone I said goodbye and am off to pack,” Roger called from behind her.

  “You okay Mom?” her oldest child, Megan, asked.

  Margaret wiped a tear and tried to smile, but then couldn’t stem the flow of tears that broke the dam and flooded.

  “Mom …”

  “I’m all right.”

  “You and daddy are going to have a blast. I’m jealous.”

  “I know. I know. It was so sweet of him to come up with something like this for me. Though I wish he hadn’t spent so much money.”

  “Mom, you always worry about money. Dad made a fortune. You’re loaded.”

  “I know. But I think part of the reason we’re loaded is because I always worried about it.”

  They both laughed at that.

  “Mom, we love you. Go finish packing. Scratch that. I know you’re already packed. Go help daddy or nothing will match. Ever since he retired his navy blue Brooks Brothers suit with white shirt and red power tie, he’s a mess. He’d be lost without you.”

  “It wasn’t just the suits that made him look so distinguished Meg. I had to match his ties and socks too.”

  They both laughed again, but it was a fading laugh, and there wasn’t much left to say.

  “Mom, I miss you. Next Christmas will be wonderful. Now go make sure Dad doesn’t pack his golf pants for the theatre in the dead of winter.”

  Margaret shuddered at the word dead. Who knows the future? Who knows if there will be a next Christmas with all those you love? Nothing in life is guaranteed.

  The doctor said to enjoy the holidays. To not worry. That this was very treatable.

  But what if it wasn’t? Would Roger be okay? Of course he would, even if he didn’t match.

  Stop being so morbid. It is almost Christmas. Be joyful. Christmas is a time of joy.

  She would tell Roger and the kids after she and Roger got back from London.

  “Hug the kids and Jeff for me.”

  “I will Mom.”

  She moved the cursor to the red “end call” button on the computer screen. She’d never been good at hanging up the telephone. Seeing Meg’s face so close but so far away made it even harder.

  The kids are happy where they are, which is as it should be. They’re going to have a marvelous time. So are you and Roger. Feel happy. Nothing can spoil the holidays.

  8

  Seven Hours Earlier

  The call went straight into voice mail. Her mom forgot to charge her phone sometimes. A lot. But surely she was going to call her wasn’t she? It was Christmas Eve. Holly had never felt so alone in her life.

  When her manager asked if she wanted to take the rest of the day off after the angry man yelled at her, she demurred. Then he insisted. Kindly but firmly. She thought she could put the tirade behind her, but tears came so easily these days. She didn’t blame her manager for wanting her out of the store. People came to JavaStar to pay extra for a coffee drink so they could savor the warmth of the season. Seeing the barista with red swollen eyes wasn’t warm and cheerful.

  She looked at her ankles propped up on the couch. Thank God customers couldn’t see them.

  It didn’t help that she made a quick stop inside the mall to pick up a candle. Her tiny studio apartment was decorated but she needed something, anything to try and drive out the gloom she felt.

  It was there she saw two girls she had class with when she was in her first year of junior college. Erica and Danielle. She was surprised they didn’t hurt themselves when they saw it was her. Both of their jaws dropped wide open.

  “Holly, look at you,” Erica said.

  Danielle tried harder to recover: “You look wonderful, Holly. They’re right. A pregnant woman just glows.”

  Danielle really was trying. The words just wouldn’t flow.

  “When is it coming?” Erica asked.

  It?

  “He’ll be here in about two weeks,” Holly had answered.

  “You gotta carry that thing for two more weeks?” Erica exclaimed, horror stricken before turning beet red when she realized how bad she sounded.

  “That’s what the doctor said. Two more weeks. But I think I’ve passed the point of glowing, Danni.”

  “You look like an angel,” Danielle said. “You gotta call us when the baby is born so we can come visit.”

  “I’d heard you got married but I didn’t hear you were pregnant,” Erica added.

  She looked at Erica’s furrowed brow and wondered if she was she doing math in her head to see if she had to get married.

  She hadn’t.

  “I wish we would have known so we could have come to the shower.”

  “I would have loved that,” Holly said, not feeling her words.

  She didn’t tell them there was no shower. She lived almost an hour from where she grew up. The small church she attended all her life would have thrown a shower for her, complete with folding chairs, a white frosted cake, and a plastic punch bowl fashioned like it was cut from fine crystal. But it was too far away for her to attend and with her mom out-of-town now she was out of touch with the only people she seemed to know. She went to a great church but it w
as really big and she didn’t know that many people.

  Brad grew up in Texas in a broken home and wasn’t close to either of his parents so no one was looking out for her from that direction.

  Once she married Brad, she had basically lost track of most of her friends. So there was no one to even think about planning a shower.

  She assumed that once Brad was home they would make lots of friends together. This was a temporary state of loneliness.

  I hope.

  “Holly, promise you’ll call when the baby comes,” Danielle said. “I mean it. We’ll get some of the gang together.”

  “I’d love that,” she repeated.

  She watched the two skinny girls sashay off, laughing loud and whispering softly in each other’s ears.

  I’m not jealous. I don’t think. But I do feel like a hippopotamus.

  She had hurried home in eager anticipation of the email Brad sent every day before he started his day twelve hours ahead of her. But when she got home there was no email waiting for her. That worried here. He always assured her that he wasn’t “outside the wire” and was probably in the safest spot in all of Afghanistan. His job was logistics, which meant moving supplies from Iraq to Afghanistan and rerouting them back to 82nd Airborne Division in Fort Bragg, North Carolina.

  That doesn’t mean I don’t worry every minute of every day. It was still a war zone.

  She rubbed her belly. The baby kicked and that made her smile.

  He’s telling me I’m not alone. He’s going to be here in two weeks. And Brad.

  Then he kicked again and it felt like he did a gymnastic twist and turn.

  She tried to hold the smile but it hurt too much.

  9

  Six Hours Earlier

  “You call this a tip?”

  “Consider yourself lucky pal. I told you I was in a hurry and you drove slower than my grandma.”

  “Then your grandma must be a NASCAR driver.”

  “Funny guy. Not. No wonder you drive a cab.”

  “A thirty dollar fare and you give me your loose change?”

  “More than you deserve. Consider it a tip on listening to the customer.”

  Joe’s hands balled into fists.

  If this clown knew what I used to do and be.

  That was the problem. He had just turned forty and Joe’s best days seemed to be a distant speck in the rearview mirror.

  “Go ahead tough guy, throw a punch. Don’t know what I’ll do with it, but I’ll own your cab after I sue your pants off. Oh … sorry … I’ll bet you don’t own your own cab.”

  Don’t engage. This guy is trying to wind you up. Your anger has got you in enough trouble for one day. Get in the car, drive home, take a shower, and go get your kids. It’s Christmas Eve. Don’t be late.

  He hadn’t felt in control for two years. He lost a high paying job. Not long afterward Jan filed for divorce. He lost his nice house in the suburbs. But Jan didn’t. She lived there with her new husband and Joe’s two kids. He knew he should be grateful that the Leslie and Jonathan’s routine hadn’t been turned totally upside down, but he couldn’t fight off feelings of bitterness that inevitably turned to a self-destructive rage.

  He landed a pretty good job with a competitor after a couple months of unemployment, but he got canned shortly after. He had always been a great salesman, but a big part of that was his upbeat personality. Now he was a downer. Angry. Suspicious. Surly. The only time he seemed to have control of his emotions was when he was with the kids.

  Drive home. Get a shower. Get the kids. Ignore the guy flipping you off and laughing at you. It’s not worth it.

  Traffic was light but it was going to be tight dropping the cab off at the yard, hopping in his ten-year-old pickup, going home for a shower, and driving over to his old house in time.

  Why did I get greedy?

  He had taken one more fare, thinking it would give him enough cash to add a few more activities with the kids. And all he got was less than a dollar in coins.

  And now he might be a few minutes late. But he didn’t want to pick up the kids in the cab. He didn’t want any of his old neighbors looking out the window and seeing what he was doing for a living.

  Nothing wrong with driving a cab. You could pull in some decent wages—if you weren’t paying half of everything in child support.

  He drove on, willing himself to relax. He looked on the seat next to him and smiled. A small tom turkey in white plastic with yellow nylon netting to hold the legs in tight. Kroger had a few turkeys left.

  One thing had worked out.

  God, I’m such a mess. Make this Christmas count. Please.

  He shook his head. What did “make this Christmas count” even mean? And when was the last time he prayed?

  10

  Five Hours Earlier

  “What do you mean your dad isn’t home?”

  Silence.

  “I asked you a question, Donny.”

  “I’m grounded and now I’m supposed to babysit dad?”

  “Don’t be smart.”

  “I thought you wanted me to be smart.”

  Exasperated, Regina pulled the door shut in the empty patient room, and using all the willpower she had not to shriek, kept her voice to a yell: “Do you know where your dad is?”

  “Not exactly.”

  She sighed.

  “What does that mean?”

  “I wasn’t supposed to tell you anything. He’ll be back in an hour or so.”

  “Your dad told you not to tell me anything? To not tell me where he is? Are you serious? Tell me you are joking.”

  “Actually, he didn’t exactly say it that way. He told me to turn my phone off so I didn’t have to talk to you when you called. And I kind of forgot and turned my phone back on. But I got the distinct impression he didn’t want you to know he was out.”

  “Did we not tell the police you would remain grounded and supervised?”

  “I didn’t. But I think you and Dad did. But you can take that up with him when he gets back. He said he just needed an hour.”

  “How long ago was that?”

  “Mom, I know I’m gigging you, but everything is fine. I promise.”

  “I’ve heard that before.”

  “Since I’m caught in the middle here, I think I’m going to obey dad’s instructions and turn my phone off.”

  “Don’t you hang up on me.”

  “Turning the phone off isn’t the same as hanging up.”

  Sure enough the line went dead.

  Was her son enjoying this as much as he sounded like he was? And where was Douglas? He used to be the most reliable man in the world. Now she didn’t know what was going on in his thick skull. Maybe he was having a breakdown. Maybe he was having an affair. He was hard to track down at times.

  He’s not having an affair. He knows I’d kill him and have the means to do so. And if I didn’t, he knows Jason would come back from Afghanistan and hunt him down and do it for me.

  Just get back to work, Regina. Things are out of your hands now. Except for here.

  It was still slow and quiet in the ER. The only patients she had personally been responsible for were Eduardo with his second-degree burns, and, go figure, Mr. Burns who had suffered a heart attack. That was it.

  This was the quietest shift she could remember in years. But that didn’t make it an easy shift with everything going on at home. She should have called in for a personal day. She would have been grilled over it, but she had paid her dues. Michelle, her nurse supervisor, would have relented grudgingly, and would have known when to stop asking questions. Regina wouldn’t have had to explain that her son had committed two crimes this morning—at least two that they knew of—and was on a short leash with the police to begin with.

  She should be home.

  Because Douglas wasn’t. And he should be. He knew the stakes.

  She heard a phone buzzing around the corner. She was being summoned.

  You’ll turn that phone back o
n in fifteen minutes and I’ll talk to you later Donny. Don’t you dare leave that house.

  11

  Four Hours Earlier

  “You sure you don’t just want to call a cab?”

  “No. It’s just as easy to drop the car off at the Park-and-Go. It’ll be inside while we’re gone and I already set it up for them to detail it.”

  “It’s going to cost more to do all that than to get a cab.”

  “True. But I’ve already broken the bank on this trip. What’s another couple hundred dollars?”

  She looked at him in horror, exactly what he was hoping for, and he laughed.

  “Stop worrying, Margaret! Enjoy. Other than our kids, we haven’t splurged that many times through the years.”

  “You did buy the car.”

  “Yes. But I could have bought something like it twenty-five years ago and I didn’t. And I’ve confessed to you countless times that I think I went overboard. I’ve never had it over seventy-five miles-per-hour, even on the highway. So yes, buying a German performance car was overkill. But it’s done. Taking my wife to London to see the Christmas lights, however, is an entirely different matter.”

  “And how is that different?”

  “You … you are priceless.”

  “Very good answer even if it does come from a television commercial.”

  “Thank you.”

  “And you can stop pacing now.”

  “You know I like to get to the airport early.”

  “I do too. But we’re on the last flight of the day—or the first one tomorrow, depending on how you look at it. I told Betty and Steve we would stop in for their annual Christmas Eve party for a few minutes.”

  “That’s way too far out of the way.”

  “They’re halfway between here and the the airport, Roger. We can stay for an hour and have no problem making our flight in plenty of time. Traffic will be light. You said so yourself.”