Caught in a Bind (2 page)

I nodded. Edie just turned away, removing herself from my support.

“Edie!” Mac’s voice was abrupt.

She turned a white face to him, but he didn’t see. He was looking at something on his desk.

“Do you understand what I want?”

“Yes. But I hate it.” The last was under her breath.

“What?” Mac demanded.

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”

I blinked as I followed Edie back to our desks. She hated this most interesting assignment?

“What’s wrong, Edie? And don’t tell me nothing,” I said as she opened her mouth to say just that. She even got the
noth
out.

Edie was a genuinely nice lady whose fine, light brown hair was cut shoulder length and hung straight, swaying when she turned her head. Her blue eyes were often sad though never more so than today. She wore all her clothes a size too small, not because she wanted to be sexy or provocative but because she kept hoping she’d lose that ten to fifteen pounds.

“Let it go, Merry. Please.” She turned abruptly and almost ran to the women’s room, a one-person operation where she could find privacy.

I watched her go, and as I turned back to my desk, I saw Jolene watching too.

“No more questions, Jo,” I said. “When she wants to tell us about it, she will.”

“You’re no fun.” But when Edie finally returned red-eyed to her desk, Jo kept quiet.

I spent the balance of the day reading about Freedom House in either our paper files or e-files or online. I learned it was established five years ago and that Stephanie Bauer had been its only director. I learned that in addition to providing counseling and comfort to abused wives, Freedom House sponsored training workshops for churches who wanted to know how to help abused women in their congregations.

I studied the pictures of Ms. Bauer and saw a woman of about forty, very slim and attractive with great dark eyes and dark curly hair.

“I was an abused wife,” she was quoted as saying in one article. “I know the fear and desperation of these women. I know their feelings of being powerless. I also know God can help them deal with the overwhelming helplessness. I know they can live again.”

How did she learn to live again? What specifics marked her flight from her husband to her position at Freedom House? Or had he reformed and she was still married to him?

I called Freedom House and got Stephanie Bauer on the line. “May I come interview you some day soon?”

“How about tomorrow?” she asked. “I know it’s Saturday, but my schedule is crazy what with the ministry, the Easter holidays and my kids.”

I had rehearsal with the bell choir tomorrow morning for the upcoming Easter service, and in the evening Curt was taking me to the reception that Mr. Montgomery was throwing for the
News
staff and his invited guests. But I was free Saturday afternoon.

“Is two o’clock all right?” I asked Stephanie.

“Will we be finished by three? I have an appointment with my daughter at three. We’re going shopping. She ‘needs’ some spring clothes.”

“We’ll be finished by then,” I promised. Then thinking it might fit into the article, I asked, “How old is your daughter?”

“Fifteen.”

Just like Randy, I thought. Poor Stephanie.

“A teenager at the mall,” I said, sarcasm dripping a bit too freely. “It ought to be an interesting afternoon for you.”

“It will be interesting,” Stephanie said, ignoring my tone. “I enjoy anything I get to do with Sherrie. We’re both so busy! And Rob is no better.”

“Rob’s your—?”

“My son,” Stephanie said. “He’s eighteen. We’ve been filling out financial information for colleges all year, and the hardest part is finding a night when we’re both home!”

When I hung up from my conversation with Stephanie, I glanced at Edie. Stephanie’s relationship with her children seemed the polar opposite of Edie’s with Randy. Both women
had had marital hard times, but one had fun with her kids and the other cried. Interesting.

It was almost five o’clock when Jolene said, “Hey, Merry, Edie, let’s go get dinner together.”

“What a good idea.” I hadn’t been looking forward to a lonely Friday night. Curt was away overnight on a men’s retreat, and he’d talked Jo’s husband into going along. Apparently she wasn’t any more anxious to fritter the night away alone than I was.

“Thanks, but I can’t,” Edie said. “I need to get home.”

“But Tom works on Friday nights, doesn’t he?” Jolene asked.

“Well, yes.”

“And Randy’s certainly big enough to feed himself.”

Jolene had obviously been thinking about this dinner for some time and had figured out all the angles, something for which she was justly famous.

“He won’t be home for dinner,” Edie said, then realized she had thrown away her best excuse to decline. With a sigh she shrugged. “Let me call and leave a message telling him where I’m going.”

Jolene was delighted. She’d now have Edie in close quarters for an hour. More than enough time to turn the screws.

“Now you be good,” I managed to whisper to Jolene while Edie was talking to Astrid, the hostess at Ferretti’s, Amhearst’s one and only decent restaurant. “Edie doesn’t need you badgering her.”

“Me? Badger?” Jolene looked aghast.

This time I was the one who snorted.

Within five minutes we followed Astrid to our booth.

“Eggplant parmigiana,” Jo told Sally, our waitress. “Raspberry vinaigrette dressing on the salad. And lots of garlic bread.”

“Spaghetti and meatballs,” I said. “Parmesan peppercorn
dressing and lots of garlic bread too.” I looked at Jolene and grinned. “There’s something to be said for not seeing the guys tonight.”

“A cup of chicken noodle soup,” Edie said. “And a roll, no garlic.”

“A salad?” Sally asked.

Edie shook her head. “Just the soup.”

“You’re on a diet! How wonderful!” Jolene said with her usual diplomacy.

“I’m just not hungry,” Edie said, tugging self-consciously at the gaping front on her shirt.

“You can tell Tom’s coming home tonight,” I said, winking at Jo. “No garlic bread.”

And just like that, Edie began to cry.

TWO

“I’
m sorry.” Edie grabbed her napkin and blew her nose. “I’m all right. I am.” The tears rolled down her face.

“Oh, Edie.” I put my arm around her shoulder. She began to cry harder.

Jolene grabbed my arm, looked at me over Edie’s bent head and mouthed very clearly, “Fix it.”

“How?” I mouthed back.

Jolene made a desperate face and gave a great shrug.

I shoved my napkin into Edie’s hands. “Here. Blow again.” I patted her shoulder some more. When in doubt, pat.

“I’m sorry,” Edie said again. “I’m such a baby.”

“No, you’re not. And we don’t mind the tears, do we, Jolene?”

She mumbled something that sounded like, “Mmmphmm.”

I rolled my eyes and said softly to Edie, “We just mind whatever is making them fall.”

She smiled weakly at that.

Jolene took one look at that travesty of a smile and decided Edie was well on the way to recovery. She awkwardly patted Edie’s hand. “Okay, girlfriend, that’s enough. It’s time to straighten that spine.”

Once again I was appalled and once again Edie responded positively.

“You’re right.” She stuffed the napkins into her purse and sat up straight. “No more.”

Jolene nodded as if she expected nothing less. “It’s Randy, isn’t it? Has he gotten arrested? Failed a big test? Gotten kicked out of school?”

Edie shook her head. “It’s not Randy, believe it or not.” Her eyes were full of pain.

I frowned. “Then it’s Tom?”

Edie looked at her clenched hands and nodded.

I always hated it when a husband and a wife had trouble, but I especially hated it now because Curt and I were so happy. Not that we were husband and wife, but I knew it was just a matter of time. I wanted everyone to be as happy as we were.

“What’s he done, Edie?” Jolene leaned in, fire in her eyes. She was ready to hate Tom for Edie’s sake.

“I don’t know,” Edie whispered.

“What do you mean, you don’t know?”

I shot Jolene a look. “Easy, girl.”

She scowled at me but lowered the intensity level considerably.

“I don’t know,” Edie repeated, her voice again full of tears.

I stuffed Jolene’s napkin in Edie’s hand just to be prepared. “Then how do you know there’s a problem?”

She forced herself to look at us. “Tom didn’t come home last night.” Then she looked away, embarrassed.

Jolene slapped the table, making Edie and me jump. “Another woman! It’s got to be. The rat!”

“Jolene!” I was appalled at the suggestion.

Edie paled. “No! Please, God, no.” It was an anguished prayer.

“That can’t be the problem,” I said, ever eager to comfort. “I’ve seen you and Tom together. If ever two people loved each other, Edie, it’s you guys.”

“I always thought so too.” She looked at us with haunted eyes. “But what if I’m wrong? What if Jolene’s right?”

Just then our waitress brought Jolene and me our salads. I stabbed a cucumber, but it might as well have been Styrofoam for all the taste it had.

“He wasn’t in an accident or anything, was he?” I asked. “Maybe he was injured and couldn’t contact you.”

“Merry the Merciful.” Acid etched Jolene’s comment. “Always looking for the Pollyanna way out.”

“It’s better than always assuming the worst.” I stabbed a poor, innocent cherry tomato since I couldn’t stab Jo, and it shot through the air and landed on the table of an elderly couple across the aisle. When they looked up in surprise at the incoming missile, I made believe it wasn’t mine.

“I spoke to the hospital and the police,” Edie said. “The hospital says he’s not there, and the police say there was no accident involving bodily injury last night anywhere in the county.”

“That’s good.” I gently skewered another tomato. It shot a stream of red juice and seeds straight at my heart. I stared at the red stain on my new pink blouse and sighed. That’s what I got for not being brave enough to own up to the first cherry bomb.

Edie smiled weakly. “I can’t decide whether it’s good news or bad news.”

I remembered the old line: If I have to choose between another woman’s arms and mangled in the street, I’ll take mangled in the street anytime.

“Well, it’s only one night.” Jo took a huge bite of garlic bread.

I think she was trying to be encouraging after her initial outrage, but Edie shook her head. “We vowed when we got married that we’d never be separated for the night unless it was unavoidable. And then we’d always call.”

“So he couldn’t find a phone.” Even without Edie and Jolene’s stares, I knew that was a foolish line in this day and age.

“Did he show up at work this morning?” Jolene asked.

Edie shook her head. “They haven’t seen him at the dealership since nine last night. It’s like he’s disappeared.”

“Aliens,” said a snide voice behind me. “Though why they’d want him is beyond me.”

“Randy!” With a mixture of surprise and hurt Edie looked at her son looming behind her. “What are you doing here?”

“I got your message about going to dinner with the girls.” Somehow he made those few words sound like Edie was participating in a Roman orgy. “I came to get some money.”

“How did you get here?” Edie asked.

“I rode my bike.” He glanced out the window where we could see it chained to a parking meter. “Only four more months until I get my car. Then I’m never riding a bicycle again in my life!”

He was getting a car for his sixteenth birthday? He bad-mouthed Tom and still expected a car? What gall!

He extended his hand to Edie, palm up. “Money.” It was a command.

“But I gave you your allowance the other night.” Edie scrambled to sound forceful but failed. “You wanted it early because you and the guys were going out somewhere.”

“Well, it’s gone. I need more.” He stared down at her, tall, handsome and hostile.

I wanted to poke him hard, inflict a little pain. Edie just sighed and began rummaging in her purse.

“By the way, Mom.” I could hear the nasty glee in Randy’s voice and knew he was going to say something that would hurt Edie. “The police were at the house.”

“What?” Edie grabbed his arm. “Did they say anything about Tom? Is he hurt? Where is he?”

“Don’t get all overheated, Mom.” Randy pulled free. “They
don’t know where Tom-boy is. In fact, they’re looking for him, just like you.”

Edie blinked. “But why?”

I studied the blond man-child with the wicked glint in his eyes. “Exactly what did the police say, Randy?”

“They said—” and he paused for effect. “They said that they needed to talk with Tom.”

“That was it?” Edie asked.

He looked at his mother with a smirk. “Isn’t that enough, Mom? I mean, the cops are after him!”

Jolene opened her mouth to retort when a sweet young voice called, “Hey, Randy.”

Randy jerked like he had been hit with a taser. He spun to look at the lovely girl passing us on her way to a table on the other side of the restaurant. Gone was the smart-mouthed kid who delighted in causing his mother distress and in his place was a self-conscious, thoroughly smitten young man who stared at the little ebony-haired beauty, his heart in his eyes.

“Sherrie,” Randy managed to say. “Hey, yourself.” He wandered after her as if he couldn’t do anything else.

“His tongue’s hanging out so far he’s going to step on it any moment,” Jolene muttered, but she was laughing.

The girl was with a woman who had to be her mother, their hair and eyes showing that relationship clearly. A young man was with them, probably a brother by the casual way he treated Sherrie. When Randy, all charm, took the last seat at the table without waiting for an invitation, the young man looked at his mother and just shook his head.

Edie stared at her son in wonder. “Look at him. He’s being polite.”

“You’ve done a good job as a mom, Edie,” I said. “Maybe a better job than you realized.”

She grunted, unconvinced, and we finished our meal.
When the bill came, we gathered our belongings and went to the cash register. Edie glanced toward Randy, but he was studiously avoiding us as he listened attentively to Sherrie’s mother talk.