Revolutions of the Heart (14 page)

It was Elaine. “Rob’s in jail,” she said immediately. Cory woke completely and imagined the worst: he had lied about the blanks and had shot someone. “What happened?”

“He’s so stupid. Why did I have to love a stupid guy?”

“What happened, Elaine?”

“A few of the protesters, including our favorite hothead, broke through the rope. When the deputies arrested them and dragged them away, they saw Rob’s gun.”

“He told me it just had blanks.”

“It did, but it’s still a concealed weapon. And in Wisconsin, that’s a no-no. My dad is down there arranging to get him out. He’s actually proud of Rob.”

“And you’re not, obviously. Poor Rob—the women in his life have deserted him.”

“A gun, he thought a gun was a good idea.” Cory could hear Elaine pounding on the table. “I do love him, Cory, but I’m so angry.”

“Things will cool down. Things will be okay.”

“As long as he doesn’t have to go to jail for a lifetime.”

“I think marriage to Rob would be easier if he were in jail.”

“There’s something else that makes it a little complicated. I’m pregnant.”

“Elaine, that’s great! No, it’s awful. Rob a dad. Am I awake? Is this a bad dream?”

“Thanks for the support and comfort.”

“Does he know?”

“Yes. I made the mistake of telling him just before he left yesterday. I thought maybe it would cool him off, get him to think things through. It did just the opposite. He was so pumped up when he left for the landing.”

“How are you feeling?”

“I’ve been better. Rob should be a happy guy. He’s going to be a father and now he’s famous. It’s been all over the radio and in the paper.”

“Your pregnancy?”

“Very funny. His arrest. He’ll like the publicity. Did you see the article in the paper?”

“I just got up.”

“It could have been worse, I keep telling myself that. He might have actually shot someone. Wait—I think I hear them pulling into the driveway.”

“Tell Rob I say he’s stupid, I love him, and to call me. And congratulations on the baby.”

Rob didn’t call but nearly everyone else did, wanting to know more about his arrest. Cory explained to each that she knew little and didn’t know when she would hear more. With each call she hesitated before answering, expecting to be confronted by someone with questions about what happened in Unit 26. She knew it was just a matter of time. Mr. Bartleby had been practice-talking his whole life, she decided, in preparation for a story this good.

Mac called. “How are you doing?”

“Waiting for the world to collapse. Heard about Rob?”

“Yeah. If it were anyone but your brother I wish they’d lock him up for a long time. I’m sorry, Cory. I guess I’m just starting to get angry now.”

“How’s your cut?”

“Fine. Roxanne came by earlier and checked it out. I don’t know if I should tell you this, but she had already heard about us and the motel.”

“Damn.”

“I had to make a few corrections to her story. We weren’t naked, were we?”

“Why did you call and tell me this?”

“To cheer you up. I feel better.”

“I don’t. Thanks for the warning. I think I’ll run away before anyone else calls.”

She didn’t have a chance. Moments after she said good-bye to him, the phone rang again. And when she heard Karin purr hello, she knew it was too late. “Hello yourself,” she snapped.

“Guess what I heard?”

“I can’t imagine.”

“I heard that Cory Knutson delivers room service at Bartleby’s Inn!”

“Did you call for a reason, Karin?”

“Nick’s older sister caught us once and it was awful, but that’s nothing like Bartleby walking in.”

“You don’t know the whole story, okay? So just keep your mouth shut about it.”

“Sneaking into a hotel room with stolen keys is pretty low. Doesn’t Mac have a tepee pitched somewhere in the woods you could use?”

Cory hung up. She grabbed her jacket, left the house, and walked down to the lake. A few skin-thin patches of ice floated on the water. She sat on a large, flat rock that had warmed slightly from the sun and leaned back against a boulder. The rock chair was a favorite spot, sheltered from the sun in summer by a canopy of leafy tree branches. Today the branches were stark spindles against a blue sky. She stretched out her legs. As a little girl she’d come to the rock to play and read and sneak forbidden snacks. Now she needed to think and wait and do a little wishing. “Things will be fine,” she said loudly, startling a small bird into flight. “Just fine.” Her wish list was short: that Rob wouldn’t go to jail again, that Mike would come home, that the motel story would die an early death, and that her mother’s soul was somehow resting in peace. “I wish, I wish, I wish,” she chanted softly. “I wish none of this were true.”

Her short night’s rest and the warm sun conspired, and Cory, nestled into the smooth hollows of the gray rock, closed her eyes and slept.

While sucked deep into the nonsensical frenzy of a dream (in which she was being chased down a never-ending water slide by a bare-chested Mr. Bartleby as he waved a bloody pillowcase), she felt a mosquito bite her shoulder and slapped it.

“Ow!”

Cory opened her eyes. Mike was crouched next to her, rubbing his hand. “Hello. I guess that means you’re glad to see me.”

“I thought you were a mosquito.”

“Too early in the season for those.”

“I didn’t expect you home so soon.”

He sat and started patting his pockets in his habitual search for cigarettes. He had quit smoking when Cory’s mother had first come home from the hospital, but his hands often still searched. He finally drew up his knees and hugged them. “I read about Rob in the paper and I wanted to get home. I’ve already stopped at Elaine’s parents’ to see him.”

“Was he still alive when you left the house?”

“I wasn’t rough on him at all. I even apologized for reacting so extremely yesterday, for throwing them out. He has other problems now and doesn’t need to be fighting with his stepfather. We’ve made a tentative peace, Cory.”

“Will they be moving back from the Crenshaws’?”

“I’ve told him they can, but Rob isn’t sure he wants to. We’re invited over for dinner tonight. We’ll eat and talk things through. It’s a start. Now tell me about your night. Did you manage to stay out of trouble?”

Cory closed her eyes and imagined she was in a car traveling in a new place. A rocky coastline, or the mountains. She’d never seen an ocean, never seen mountains.

“Cory?”

She opened her eyes and smiled at her stepfather. His concern eased a fraction. “I have to tell you something, Mike. I have to tell you before you hear it someplace else.”

He shifted. “That sounds ominous.”

“I screwed up a little bit last night and did something I shouldn’t have. Mac and I.”

“Get to it, Cory. Tell me.”

She told him about the mob at the landing and the men who harassed Mac at the cafe, told him about Mac’s cut and the blood. She told him about the strange mix of fear and wonder and anger on Mac’s face when he refused to be taken home or to the doctor. She explained why they went to the motel, what they did there, and how they had talked, then listened to the hateful noise and shouting on the street.

“We fell asleep,” she said finally. “Bartleby barged in an hour later and thought he found us having sex. Totally innocent.”

“You did trespass.”

“I know, Mike, but we couldn’t really go anywhere else. Not the way he was bleeding.”

He patted his pockets absently, then clasped his hands. “You’re lucky he didn’t call the sheriff. Boy, that would have been great—two of my kids in jail on the same night!” He lowered his head and shook it slowly. “Margaret,” he whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m trying, I’m trying my best.”

“There is a little good news. About Elaine. But maybe it’s not so good. Didn’t she tell you?”

“I only saw Rob. What?”

“She’s pregnant.”

The announcement had a calming effect on Mike. Cory watched as he relaxed. He smiled and nodded slightly several times. “Good,” he finally said. “She would have been so happy about that.”

“Yes.”

“Look.” He pointed to a nearby cluster of fresh green that was pushing through the brown mat of winter ground cover. “Crocus shoots.” He hugged her, and Cory closed her eyes to enjoy the strong, steady rock in his arms. “Let’s hope the worst has passed, Cory. A baby’s coming, and things always get better in spring.”

13

“Who needs a fresh one?” Rob shouted through the kitchen window to where Cory and Elaine were sitting on the deck. “I guessed wrong on the coals and we have time for another round.” He appeared at the door, balancing bottles on a small tray. “Where did the others go?”

“Down front,” said Elaine as she reached for a soda. “Dad had to show Mike where the new azalea bed will go in.” Elaine’s parents owned a nursery and garden store. Their front yard, which stretched nearly a quarter mile to the greenhouses along the highway, was an ever-changing showcase for the family business. Cory had always preferred the back yard with its simple cedar deck and small square of ordinary grass.

“I think it’s time for you to stop,” Cory said to her brother. “I’ve never seen you go over two beers.”

“There’s lots you haven’t seen me do, Sis.”

“Like cook for company. This is a first, and a grilled pork roast, even. I’m impressed, Robbie.”

“A pork roast isn’t that difficult,” he said. “You just rub it down with garlic and toss it on the grill.”

“And wait,” said Elaine, “and wait and wait and wait. Meanwhile, I will deliver these cold beers down front.”

Rob scratched at the label on his beer bottle. Cory knew how much energy was being directed into that single action, as if it were a release valve that kept him from exploding. She reached out to rub his arm and he jumped.

“Cool down, Robbie.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s good news about the baby.”

“You think so?”

“Yes I do. Elaine will be a great mom. C’mon, Robbie, a month ago you wanted a baby.”

“A month ago I had a job and money coming in.”

“You’ll be working soon.”

He set the bottle on a table. “Fred Strickler came by this afternoon. He said they’d made a decision that they couldn’t give me the job until my legal troubles had cleared up. He said they can’t hire someone who might be serving time.”

“Too bad, Rob.”

“I gave up a good job to work at the plant. They promised.”

“You hated the road job. And you got yourself in trouble. You didn’t have to go to the landing last night.”

He turned and his eyes burned into her. “They’re giving my job to the next guy on the list, Peter Rosebear’s nephew. He doesn’t even live in Summer. That was my job and they gave it to someone else. Three years I waited for my name to come up. They gave it to a goddamn Indian.” He pounded on the deck rail. “My job, Cory. My job!”

“Stop it, Rob. I don’t want to hear it.”

“I bet you don’t.” He blew across the neck of the beer bottle. “Fred’s cousin came to town for the protest, and according to Fred he was one of the guys with Brad last night when they found you. What a cheap deal, Cory. My sister caught by my friends stealing into a motel room with her goddamn Indian boyfriend.”

“Stop it.”

“Bad enough I lose my job to one of them, but to have you sleeping—”

“Is that what’s killing you? Not remorse for your stupid actions last night, not concern about maybe going to jail with a baby on the way? But it’s the thought of me in bed with Mac!”

Rob rose. Cory stood and faced him. “Are you going to hate me forever just because I did it with an Indian?”

“You fool.”

“I did it, Rob. I did it with an Indian!”

Words lashed as his hand swiped. “You slut!”

The force of the strike came in its surprise. Cory toppled backward. The full weight of her falling body landed on her right arm just as it hit the edge of the cedar rail. The rail bent but held. Her forearm cracked. Cory crumpled and cradled her arm. Blood trickled where his ring had cut across her face.

Rob crouched by her. “Oh God, Cory. Oh, Sis, I’m sorry. I don’t know why—”

“Go away,” she screamed. She lifted her leg to kick him.

That’s how the others found them: Rob kneeling in wide-eyed terror and Cory collapsed and bleeding, one leg thrust out. The dinner party was over.

*

“I hate hospitals,” Mike said as he escorted Cory into the emergency room.

“Don’t tell them what happened. I don’t want anyone knowing anything about Rob hitting me. We’ve already given people enough to talk about.”

Cory went alone to the exam room. She sat with her eyes closed and cradled her arm as the nurse chatted. When the questions began, she answered in muted monosyllables. “I fell,” she mumbled. That was true enough, and all anyone needed to know. If she went any further she’d have to tell the whole story or make it up, and she had already told one big, fat lie tonight, one she had aimed as a direct hit at her brother’s weakest spot.