The Riches of Mercy (40 page)

She got up at 6:15 and wrapped a robe around herself. She could take a shower when the boys were gone.

When the boys were gone. No more cloying attention all day long when she was trying to file briefs or do research. No more begging Mrs. Cranston for help. No more sounds. No more cries. No more lunch around the kitchen island, with Merritt throwing cereal at Beau. No more Hide and Seek Hollingsworth.

Maybe she should homeschool them.

Meredith's voice echoed in her head, telling her they needed a chance. They needed to try. If it was a mistake, she could homeschool them to be perfect, faithful, shut-in lawyers later. But the mistake had to be made.

Natalie slunk downstairs. In the kitchen, she made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Two each, cut in half.

"Too much food," she heard Meredith's voice in her head.

"One to eat and one to trade."

"I don't want them trading."

"Let's just see what happens? If it's a mistake..."

"I should never give you a good argument."

Natalie chuckled and spread peanut butter. The bread and the peanut butter came from WIC, the raspberry and apricot preserves from Jake's father's farm. She was still grinning as she tucked the sandwiches into plastic bags and added an apple, chips, cheese slices, and filled their thermoses with half orange juice, half water.

She made coffee.

At 6:45, the alarm clock upstairs began to blare.

She listened.

The sound went off. But no other sounds were heard. She'd set out their clothes last night, hoping they would serve as a reminder of what today was. No shuffling. No yelling.

She frowned and took the first step. The door flew open at the top of the stairs.

Merritt, dressed, hair uncombed, rushed down the stairs. "Hungry," he said.

"Make yourself some cereal."

Beau was still in his pajamas. He carried his first-day-of-scool jeans and looked tousled and confused.

Natalie called to the kitchen, "Make me and Beau some, too."

"Aw," Merritt said.

Natalie ascended the stairs. "Mornin', Beau."

He nodded.

She herded him back into his room and picked up his shirt. "Drop the pants," she said.

He dropped his bundle and raised his arms. She draped the shirt over his hands first and he giggled as she pulled it down.

"Pants, Beau," she said.

He nodded.

She went to the door.

"Hey, Nat," he said.

She glanced back.

He grinned. "It's the first day of school!"

#

"How was school?" Natalie asked. She'd been pacing in front of their block, but now the bus came and disgorged ten children, including hers, with their fingers and toes intact.

"Fun. Katie was there. And Josh. And Patricia." Beau rolled the pronunciation. "Patreeceea."

Natalie laughed.

Merritt took her hand. "I don't want to go back."

"Why not, Merry?"

"It was boring."

"Merry knew everything. Every time the teacher did something, he knew it," Beau said.

Merritt ducked his head.

"Do you have homework?" Natalie asked.

"You have to read us a poem," Beau said.

Natalie nodded.

"Do I have to go back?" Merritt asked.

"Do you think you'll be able to keep our deal?"

Merritt considered as they walked into the house and into the kitchen, where she'd set out crackers, apples, and peanut butter. She sat down across from him at the table.

"I can," Merritt said.

"Good. I promise when mommy's home we'll talk, okay?" Homeschooling would only be an option with two parents, but she believed in it as much as Meredith did. In theory.

"When's mommy coming home?" Beau asked.

"Soon."

#

That night, she chose from Meredith's side of the poetry shelf, a ratty second-hand book marked from years of school use. Her own book collection, moved down from Charlotte in a U-Haul, augmented Meredith's--nearly tripled it--But she wanted the boys to experience their mother's tastes. She took the book upstairs to where the boys were already in bed. She checked their teeth. Both minty fresh. She sat on Beau's bed.

"This is your mother's book," she said.

Merritt beamed.

"Have you heard of Langston Hughes?"

They shook their heads.

"Well, here's the poem. The first of many, okay?"

She should have done this earlier, when they'd watched cartoons before starting dinner, before baking cookies for their lunch boxes. She should have made copies for them, and wrote down how they felt after she read it, and put it in their book bags to talk about tomorrow.

Homework. She'd learn.

"Ready?"

They nodded.

"It's called 'Daybreak in Alabama'…"

# #

Chapter Forty-Five

The sign was posted prominently at the front gate of the prison, but Natalie parked anyway, willing it not to be true.

"Stay in the car," she told Beau and Merritt.

"But--"

"Stay in the car."

Merritt began to tear up.

Beau scowled as she crossed the parking lot, toward the gate. Ida was at the top of the steps. "Visitation’s cancelled."

"What? Why?"

"No leave today. All I can tell you."

"What happened?"

Ida's expression tightened.

"Ida, please. I drove a long way."

"So did we," said a man leaning against the fence. "I'm not leaving here until I get in."

Ida said to him, "It won't be today. Please, go home."

But Natalie couldn't go home, not yet. Her body ached. The thought of another two hour drive made her sweat. "Can I call her?"

"No."

Natalie glanced back at her car. "The kids..."

"You're not the only family who came a long way."

"Damn straight," the man said.

"It'll be better if you just go."

"Is Merry--" she didn't know how to ask the unthinkable. "Do I have to worry about Merry?"

Ida softened. "You never have to worry about Merry."

Natalie nodded. She gazed at the buildings beyond the gate. She searched for Meredith in the windows and didn't see her.

"What do I tell my children?" she asked.

Ida shrugged. "The truth."

"Why--"

"There's no visitation today, Ms. Ivans."

Natalie strode across the parking lot, despite her knee about to buckle. Beau and Merritt got out of the car.

"Boys, what did I say?"

"Can we see mommy now?"

"No. We're not going to her today."

"Why not?"

Natalie knelt and held them at arm's length. She considered telling them someone had been bad at the prison, and it had been locked down. They understood lockdown. During their first week of school, they practiced. In case of a bomb or a shooter. Would they accept the explanation? But the prison wasn't locked down. There were no alerts, no armed guard posts. Just no visitation.

She considered telling them Meredith was with a patient who needed her. An emergency. They would be jealous, though, that Meredith would choose a stranger over them. Natalie would have to explain sometimes people had to make sacrifices to help other people--it wasn't easy--Merry was a hero.

They wouldn't like it.

"I don't know," she said, and hugged them.

"Are you going to cry, Natalie?" Merritt asked.

"I might. I miss your mother."

"Me too," Merritt said.

Beau was silent. He lifted his chin off Natalie's shoulder and gazed at the prison.

"So, we can't spend our morning here at prison," Natalie said, stressing 'prison' like it was an icky, ironic thing. "Let's do something else in Rocky Mount instead."

"What can we do in Rocky Mount?"

"Well, we can go to McDonalds." She felt guilty when their faces lit up. Teaching them to gorge on bad food when times got tough was not a positive life lesson. But she wanted to defy all the rules of the universe, if they were going to change arbitrarily on her anyway.

"You have to have apple slices," she said.

Merritt looked confused.

"And after that, we'll go to the children's museum, okay?"

"Okay. Can I pet the snakes?" Beau asked.

Merritt shrieked. "I don't want to see any snakes."

"Beau can pet the snakes. And Merritt, you and I will go watch the tide machine, okay?"

Merritt nodded against her arm.

"But first, I'm getting an apple pie," she said.

She herded the boys back into their booster seats and strapped them in, and then got in the driver's seat. The prison loomed in front of her. She blinked away tears.

"Just a little setback. Nothing to worry about. Nothing at all."

#

Jolene frothed at the mouth. Her legs were strapped down to the infirmary bed but her arms were free and she held Meredith's hand in a tight grip.

"You have to give me something. You have to."

"I'm giving you all I can," Meredith said. She tried to speak in a soothing voice, tried to keep a calming touch on Jolene's sweat-soaked forehead. But Jolene was burning up, and Jolene was hurting her. She wanted to run away.

The clock was ticking. Natalie was outside, waiting for her.

"Drugs. Oh my God, how much pain do I have to be in before you give me drugs?"

"The doctor will be here any minute."

"You said that before. He's not here. It's just you and me, Meredith."

And the guard outside. Just the three of them. The rest of the guards were restoring order, double-checking, after Jolene, overly pissy for days, finally punched Burdette.

And had not stopped punching her.

"Why didn't you tell anyone you were sick?" Meredith asked.

"I just had a headache. They won't even give you advil around here."

Meredith stroked Jolene's forehead.

Jolene groaned.

"The doctor's got to come up from the Rocky Mount hospital. But then he'll give you something for the pain, all right?"

"Give me what."

"Whatever you want. Oxycontin. Morphine. Percocet."

Jolene smirked, her teeth clenched. "What do you think I have?"

"You got bit by any animals lately? Dog? Cat? Possum?"

"No. The heck?"

"Bats?"

"Yeah. I found a bat a few days ago. Just tossed it over the fence. It didn't bite me or anything. Oh, God, is this what becoming a vampire feels like?"

Meredith smiled.

Jolene glanced at her, shaking with pain. "Let me tell you, it sucks."

"I believe you."

"I know this ain't Anne Rice. Tell me what I got, Merry."

"I'm not a doctor."

"You know, don't you. You know. Merry, please."

"I don't know. Probably just a bad flu. An infection. Some mold from the shower."

Jolene shuddered and Meredith gripped her hand.

When the doctor came, Meredith would tell him. Then she'd demand the vaccination shots. Then the whole place would go into lockdown. It wouldn't matter for Jolene. The rabies would kill her.

#

"Let me call Natalie," Meredith said.

Ida walked her back to the ward. "Can't."

"Please. She drove up here, didn't she?"

Ida was silent.

"Ida. Please just tell me."

"She came. With your kids. Leave was cancelled."

"Let me call her. Let me explain."

"I can't."

"Ida--"

"Stop asking, Jameison."

Meredith cringed. Whatever she said next would mean a loss of privileges.

Ida opened the gate. "Maybe tomorrow."

Meredith nodded and went through.

"Merry?"

Meredith turned back, peering at Ida through the bars.

"What about Jolene?"

Meredith shook her head.

Ida turned away.

Meredith made her way to the chapel and curled up in a pew, her back against the wall. She wanted to cry. She wanted to heave.

She didn't want to pray, but she did, for Jolene's body and soul. There would be no more chances for Jolene's redemption, no more time for her to get a clue, to change, to find joy or love or children. Meredith pressed her cheek to her knees. She didn't glance up when Siba came in. She closed her eyes against the faint sound of prayers. Mecca was that way. She didn't look.

Then Siba slid into the pew beside her.

Meredith exhaled.

"What's wrong with Jolene?" Siba asked.

"She's sick. Real sick."

"She going to get better?"

"No."

"We going to get sick?"

The fear went through Meredith's heart, paralyzing her. She thought of Natalie. She closed her eyes.

"Merry?"

"No. We're not going to get sick."

"But Jolene."

"Yeah."

"We should include Jolene in our prayers."

"Yeah."

"How long she have?"

"A few days. They're going to move her to Rocky Mount Hospital. Pump her full of painkillers. Watch her go."

"I always thought Jolene was a bitch. But now." Siba's voice trailed off.

"Yeah. She'll die that way."

"Instead of as someone else. So sad."

Meredith nodded. She kept her eyes shut. Otherwise tears would rush out.

"Ladies?"

"It's Ida," Siba said. "And a stranger. Dressed up like you."

Meredith sat up and rubbed her eyes.

A nurse standing next to Ida held up a syringe box. "I'm going to have to give you these, okay? Mandatory."

Siba turned to Meredith.

Meredith nodded.

Siba swallowed. "Where?"

"In your arm. What are your names?"

"That's Merry and Siba. I'll check them off." Ida studied her clipboard.

Siba slid out of the pew and into the next one. She winced as the nurse injected her. Then the nurse moved to Meredith.

Meredith offered her arm.

"You've been exposed? You're Merry?"

Meredith nodded.

"You touched the patient."

Meredith had her hands all over Jolene. There'd been sweat and foam and finger-crushing grips. She remembered the heat under her hand, and Jolene's rapid heartbeat. She nodded.

"Did you have gloves?"

"Didn't have time. Jolene was insistent. I wasn't stationed in the infirmary at the time. I just saw her punch Burdette."