Retribution (12 page)

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Authors: Regina Smeltzer

Tags: #christian Fiction

BOOK: Retribution
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“What happened?”

“The fire marshal's reporting it as arson.”

Lillian felt the color drain from her face.

“That big one on Miller Street?” Trina frowned. “Who would want to burn down that old house? I thought it was beautiful.”

“The owner comes to mind first,” Roger replied.

Lillian lowered her fork to her plate, her heart blocking her throat. “What happened to the family?”

“They moved out a couple of days ago.”

“So the house was empty?” Trina asked. “Thank goodness for that.”

“Excuse me,” Lillian murmured as she slipped from the table.

Trina smiled as she passed. “Now you're taking up my habits!”

She ran up the stairs and closed the bathroom door behind her. Wobbly legs supported her as far as the edge of the tub, where she settled on the side and put her face in her hands. Craig and Susan's burned bodies filled her mind, the stench of their burned flesh still real. A sob shoved its way from her tight chest, releasing the emotional flood it had been blocking. When would the pain end? As the sound of fire crackled within her mind, she moaned and rocked back and forth against the pain. Her family. Her life. All gone.

A soft knock sounded at the door followed by Sandra's voice. “Lillian. Are you all right?”

She brushed the tears off her cheeks. “I'm fine. I'll be down in a minute.”

After splashing cold water on her face, she ventured back down the stairs. She eased back into her chair and picked up her fork, but little food actually got to her mouth.

Conversation lagged. Faces held guarded expressions, as though an unwelcome guest sat in their presence. What had they been talking about while she had been gone? The fire? Most likely her, and the embarrassment made her want to retreat to the safety of her room.

“You all right, Lillian?” Bill asked.

“I'm fine.”

“Just thought you looked a bit wane.”

“Dad means tired,” Trina said. “Dad, no one says wane anymore.”

“It's a good word,” Bill said, his lips rigid.

The monster in the room had its claws in more than her. She had never heard Trina correct her father before, at least not in public.

And Bill seemed to be on the verge of exploding.

“All right y'all, time to do dishes.” As Sandra rose from her seat, she winked at Bill, and, as though on cue, everyone stood and carried a handful of dishes to the kitchen.

Soon the last plate was dried and the sink wiped clean.

Sandra draped the dishcloth across the sink. “Trina, let's go see that baby room you've been talking about.”

The evening had started pleasantly, but for the second time Lillian found herself tense. First the fire, now the expectation that she accompany Trina and Sandra to the nursery. Hopefully, her well of tears had gone dry.

Sandra accompanied Trina up the stairs. As Lillian followed, her throat tightened and she fought tears that wanted to pocket in the corners of her eyes. Why had she not invited Sandra into the bathroom and cried on her motherly shoulder? Rigid independence had blocked her ability to accept Sandra's friendship. The aloneness that always pressed against her suddenly pushed until the weight felt as if her feet might sink right through the tread of the stairs.

Laugher broke through her thoughts as Jimmy bounded up the stairs, passing all of them in his rush to be first.

The revelation occurred so suddenly that she stumbled. A huge smile formed on her face, and a laugh erupted from within her.

“You OK back there, Lillian?” Sandra asked.

“Never better.” She had been living a solitary life surrounded by stoic and serious people. She needed Jimmy's goofy jokes and Ted's loving glances at his wife, the unconditional friendship of Trina. The weight holding her down crumbled and the lightness left her feeling as if she could float up the stairs. God had not abandoned her. He had given her just what she needed. A cleansing breath poured from deep within. She sat in God's protective hand.

~*~

After the women headed upstairs, Ted wandered toward the parlor, and Bill went in search of the deck of cards.

Roger found himself alone in the kitchen with Paul.

“I need to talk to you about the other night.” Paul's lips pressed together so hard they almost disappeared.

Blood rushed to Roger's head, suffusing his face in heat. He stiffened his back, ready for the fight. “What about it?”

“When someone is hit by a car, you need to call the police. We have to fill out a report. You know that.”

Roger glared at Paul. So smug and self-assured, thinking he owned the world. The knot of hate that lived in his stomach swirled into his mouth. “No one was hit, so there was nothing to report.” The words hissed from his mouth. “The man stumbled off the curb and Lillian stopped in front of him. I would think the police would have better things to do, like catching the person who burned down my house last night.”

“So it's your house now?” Paul's eyes narrowed. “You make too much of yourself. We play as a team around here.”

“A team? All your team does is set up speed traps.”

Paul's face reddened. “You know very well—”

“What's going on in here?” Bill stood in the doorway. “You boys better stop or take it outside. I don't want the women upset.”

“Sorry, Bill,” Roger looked at the floor. “I forgot myself for a minute.”

“I'm out of here.” Paul walked stiffly from the room.

“Aren't you staying to play cards?” Bill asked.

“Tell Trina thanks for supper,” Paul said over his shoulder as the outside door closed behind him.

“What was that all about?” Bill asked.

He shrugged his shoulders. “Who knows? Paul's always been moody.” It was all he could do to keep the snicker out of his voice.

~*~

Trina placed her cards on the table and yawned.

Roger knew the time to reveal his plan had come. His heart trilled within his chest. After two years, payment would be made. “It's late and I need to get home,” he said. “Besides, no one can win with Lillian playing!”

“Hey, Ted won the first two games,” Lillian quipped, a smile lighting her face. “Do you guys do this every Friday?”

“Most weeks,” Ted said.

Trina grabbed Ted's arm and pulled herself up. “You're welcome to join us. Even after you move.”

Lillian laughed. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“Never!”

The evening had brought out the best in Lillian. She recovered her pleasant mood soon after the card game started, and Jimmy had helped to keep her entertained until Sandra took him home. Lillian, looking like someone without a care in the world or a sin to atone for, stretched her arms above her head. “This has been nice. I can't remember the last time I had so much fun.”

Her façade of innocence sickened Roger, but he could play that game too. While others had focused on the cards, he had stacked one scenario on top of another until he had come up with the best course of action. He only needed a reason to bring it up it, and Lillian had just given him the opening. “The fun doesn't have to end,” he stated, maintaining eye contact. “How about going jogging with me tomorrow morning?”

“You're a runner?”

Ted's gaze was on him.

“I'm not sure I would call myself a runner, but I like to put in a few miles every now and then. I thought you might like to see Williamson Park. It's a great place to get some exercise, if you avoid the tree roots.” Roger gave her his little boy, friendly puppy smile.

“Sure. What time?”

“How about eight? Is that too early?” The earlier the better for his purposes. Most Saturdays, people didn't start showing up at the park until after lunch.

“Eight's fine.”

“Oh, I almost forgot.” He furrowed his brow. “I have to make a quick stop in the office first. Can I meet you there instead?”

“Sure, no problem. The parking lot is off Spring Street, isn't it?”

“That's the place. Or I can come by and pick you up, but meeting you would save some time. We want to get our run in before the crowds start showing up.”

“I'll just meet you there.” Lillian smothered a yawn behind her hand.

“It looks like Trina's not the only one tired.” He turned and waved a hand as he headed toward the door. “Thanks for the supper and the company.”
And enjoy your last night in a bed, Lillian.

The click of the deadbolt sounded behind Roger. Retribution would not happen at the bed and breakfast; he could spare his friends that much.

The evening had ended more perfectly than if he had planned it. Paul running off and Lillian accepting his invitation. A smile creased his face as he bounced toward the car. And it had been a good touch on his part to throw in the “I have to go to work first” line. That would be his alibi.

Tomorrow promised to be both an end and a beginning.

~*~

Lillian gathered the popcorn bowls from the table. Green plastic, cheap, most likely purchased from the thrift store, but they had provided more fun than she had had any time in recent memory. She ran her finger along the bottom of her bowl and placed the greasy tips in her mouth. Salt. That brought to mind a sermon she had heard on friendship being the salt of life.

As she carried the bowls toward the kitchen, she contemplated the possibility of friendship. Friendship was beyond what she hoped for, and she had been content moving to Darlington to live a solitary life. But then something happened. It felt as though she had known Trina for years. And then Ted and Paul and Roger. Dare she call them friends?

“You look deep in thought,” Trina said as she sidled past Lillian in the kitchen doorway. “Anything I can help you with?” She dumped the paper plates into the waste basket.

“Sorry. I guess I was lost in my own world for a minute.”

“I would be in a daze too if I had two eligible bachelors dangling on my every word.” Trina grinned, walked to the table, and indicated the seat next to her.

Should this conversation happen? She knew where sweet Trina's thoughts were headed, but Darlington was to be her retribution, not a place to kindle romance. The scent of popcorn still clung to the air and with it thoughts of the evening: the laughter, the times when she had felt accepted, almost part of the family.

The wooden chair slid over the waxed floor with a soft scrape as she pulled it from the under the table. The overhead light brightened the room.

Comfort. That was the word she had been searching for, the emotion she had been experiencing. When had this house become a safe haven for her? Was it possible that those living in it were part of her safety? She shook her head at the odd thought. Safety from what? She had left the danger in Cleveland.

Rather than being able to see through the kitchen window, a reflection off the glass shone back at her, hiding what lay beyond. Her gut twisted. God had led her to Darlington, but she still
knew
danger waited for her just beyond that black window; something hidden beneath a light-filled image. She shivered and tried to shake off the strange premonition.

Trina bounced in her seat, eyes sparkling. Her eagerness to share girl talk raked against Lillian's somber mood.

“You've only been here a week, and already Roger is swooning over you. I have never seen him act like this with anyone. And Paul.” Trina chuckled, her eyes crinkling around the edges. “He gets chased all the time by the women. You know how it is, man in a uniform. But he's never given any of them a second look until you came along. He's smitten all right.”

Lillian stared at Trina, remembering her accelerated heartbeat when Paul had stopped her coming into Darlington, and the emotion had nothing to do with the ticket. And Roger. Dark, handsome Roger. She couldn't go there.

“You've got a battle going on for your heart.”

“Who has a heart?” Ted asked as he entered the kitchen.

Trina used her hands to shoo her husband away. “Girl talk. Go to bed. I'll be up shortly.”

Ted raised his eyebrow. “I thought you were tired.”

“Go to bed,” Trina said, her voice stern but her eyes laughing.

When Ted's footsteps sounded on the steps, Trina turned back to Lillian. “So which one is it going to be?”

The eagerness on Trina's face made her regret not being able to share the joy. There would be no relationship with either man. Trina's conversation was as if two high school friends were discussing which of the hunks they hoped would ask them to the prom. But this was real life. The prom had ended and her carriage had turned back into a pumpkin. She tried to get up from the table, to end the nonsense of the conversation, but the warmth of the kitchen seeped into her bones, and Trina's voice became a soothing lotion rubbed into her long-neglected skin. “I really don't….”

“Well, each one will try their best to win your heart.” Trina put her elbows on the table and rested her chin in her hands. “So what are your first impressions of Roger?”

“He's nice enough.” The typical tall, dark, and handsome, but with a secret pain kept close to his chest. “We're going jogging in the morning.”

“What about Paul?”

Before she could stop it, a grin spread. “He makes me laugh. But I'm not ready for a serious relationship. It's too soon.”

Trina squeezed her hand. “When you're ready, there are two men waiting.”

Hope filled the hollow in Lillian's heart. “You're so good for me, Trina.”

“You belong here, I know it. God has something in mind.”

As she followed Trina up the stairs, she contemplated whether God could have romance as part of His plan. Just one week ago, she had not even hoped for friendship. God had provided so much more than she had expected. Why not a second chance at love? A shiver of excitement crept over her.

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