Murder With All The Trimmings Part 17

She'd already called Jane and Jack and waited for them at the hospital. That was a nightmare. Now she had to break the news to her daughter.

"You got what you wanted," Amelia added, twisting the knife. "I hope you're happy." She ran to her room and slammed the door.

And stayed there.

Josie made Amelia's favorite dinner of mac and cheese that night, but her daughter refused to eat it. Amelia's hospital clothes were tossed on the floor. She was wearing jeans and her beloved pink hoodie. She must have dug it out of the back of Josie's closet, but Josie didn't have the heart to say anything. Amelia stayed in bed, fully dressed and curled up in a fetal position, weeping. Her computer was off, and so was the television. She wasn't listening to her iPod.

Josie decided to leave her alone. She felt as if she'd bungled her mission, but there didn't seem to be any way to make it better. Josie left Amelia's door open a crack and checked on her every half hour.

Amelia sobbed herself to sleep about ten thirty that night. Josie tucked a blanket around her daughter and saw the tear tracks on her face. She was so tired, her bones ached, but Josie couldn't sleep. She couldn't cry, either. She moved restlessly from room to room, a lost soul who blamed herself for the disaster that had hurt her daughter.

About midnight, Josie heard something b.u.mping down her mother's stairs. She peered out the front door and saw Jack leaving her mother's home with his suitcase. A cab was waiting out front. Josie guessed Nate's father was not going to sleep in Jane's guest room.

Jane followed Jack downstairs and stood at her door, staring after him. She didn't wave or say good-bye.

"Want to come in for coffee?" Josie asked her mother.

"Coffee?" Jane said. "I want a drink. Do you have any wine?"

"I think I have a bottle of white in the fridge. Come in and get warm," Josie said.

She put on coffee for herself and poured her mother a gla.s.s of cold Chardonnay. "What's with Jack?" Josie asked.

"He won't forgive me because I dragged him out to dinner and his boy died while we were gone." Jane gulped down half the gla.s.s.

"That's not your fault," Josie said.

"That's not what he says. He's moving to a hotel by the airport. He barely spoke to me."

"How's he going to get around?" Josie asked.

"Take a cab. Rent a car. I don't really care." But Josie could tell her mother cared very much. Her hand trembled as she knocked back the rest of the gla.s.s. "How's Amelia?"

"Not so good," Josie said, pouring Jane another half a gla.s.s. "She blames me for her father's death. Says I got what I wanted."

"Ouch," Jane said.

"Yes, it hurts," Josie said. She could barely hold back her tears. "Amelia skipped her favorite dinner tonight. Want some mac and cheese?"

"No, thanks," Jane said, a little too quickly. She took another gulp of wine.

Josie put out a bag of pretzels. She didn't want Mrs. Mueller to see her mother staggering across the porch. The old biddy must have noticed Jack leaving in the cab. The entire neighborhood would know by morning.

"Don't worry, Josie," her mother said, crunching a pretzel. "She'll come around. Kids make dramatic statements, but they don't mean them. At least I hope they don't."

There was a long pause while Josie remembered the angry words she'd hurled at her mother years ago. "Hate" had definitely been one of them.

"Amelia's a good girl," Jane said. "She needs to mourn her father."

"I'm not sending her to school tomorrow," Josie said.

"That's probably wise," Jane said.

It was three a.m. before Jane crossed the porch to her door. Her walk was surprisingly steady. Mrs. Mueller's lights were off.

Josie did not sleep the rest of the night. Nate's return had caused some seismic shift in her little family. She no longer knew her own daughter. She couldn't predict what Amelia would say or do. She'd tried to protect her daughter from Nate's drug-dealing past and instead caused Amelia more pain. It would have been better if she'd faced who and what Nate was.

Well, too late now. I ran away like a coward, Josie reminded herself. Now she spent the dark hours of the new day in an unproductive game of what-if.

What if she'd discovered she was pregnant before Nate left for Canada?

What if Nate hadn't been arrested in Canada for drug dealing?

What if she'd married Nate?

What if we'd lived in a cottage with a picket fence and roses?

She angrily hurled a couch pillow across the living room. I fell in love with a drunk and a drug dealer. I'm not fit to judge bananas at the supermarket.

The sky was lightening to pale gray when Josie put her head down on the pillow for a moment's rest. The phone woke her at 9:03.

"How is Amelia?" Jane asked.

"Huh?" Josie said. "OmiG.o.d. I've been asleep, Mom." She dropped the phone and rushed in to see Amelia. Her daughter was sound asleep, still wearing the pink hoodie. Josie realized she'd better call the school and say that Amelia would be out for a few days due to a death in the family.

The school secretary was crisp with Josie. "I'm sorry for your loss, Ms. Marcus, but we prefer that you notify us by e-mail before eight o'clock in case of an absence."

Josie hung up the phone, wondering if the secretary would have been so snippy if Josie was a major donor taking her child skiing in Vail.

Josie made herself some coffee and heard the water running in Amelia's bathroom. She poured her daughter a gla.s.s of milk and popped two pieces of bread in the toaster. She waited for Amelia to come out to the kitchen. When she didn't appear, Josie put the jar of grape jelly on a tray with the toast and milk and a napkin and carried it to Amelia's room. Her daughter pointedly ignored her, her chin stuck out like a bulldog's. She'd inherited that from her grandmother.

"You can be mad at me all you want, Amelia," Josie said. "But you have to eat sometime."

Amelia treated her mother to more stubborn silence. Josie set the tray on Amelia's desk and left. She felt like a complete failure. She cleaned the kitchen and dusted and vacuumed the living room.

Amelia skipped lunch and dinner. Now Josie was worried.

"Let her alone," her mother counseled, but Josie was afraid her daughter's grief would make her sick.

When Amelia declined breakfast again the next morning, Josie called Jane. "Do you know where Jack is staying?" Josie asked.

"I don't know and I don't care," Jane said.

"Well, I care about my daughter," Josie said.

It took real effort for her to hang up the phone gently. Josie started calling every airport hotel she could find on the Internet. She finally reached Jack at the Marriott.

"I'm sorry I behaved the way I did," Jack said. "It was childish. Your mother is a good woman and I regret hurting her feelings."

"She'll survive," Josie said. "But I'm really worried about your granddaughter. She's refusing to eat. She hasn't had a bite since yesterday. I wonder if you would come over to talk to her."

"Of course. We'll go out to lunch. What does she like to eat?"

"McDonald's is good enough," Josie said.

"Not for my granddaughter," he said.

"How about a big, thick sandwich at the Posh Nosh?" Josie said. "It's nearby in Clayton and not as expensive as the name sounds."

"Good," he said. "I could eat a horse, as you say."

"No horses, but the Posh Nosh does have buffalo pastrami and buffalo corned beef. I think the deli calls it bison."

"What about my granddaughter? Does she eat bison?"

"I think she prefers salami and Swiss on sourdough. But she'll probably have a Canada Dry ginger ale in your honor."

"My son tried to drink Canada dry for years," Jack said.

There was an awkward silence. Josie didn't know what to say.

"Yes, well, I'd better drive to your home and see my granddaughter," Jack said. "Would you give me the directions again?"

Josie did, careful to steer him around the maze of highway construction.

"One more favor," Josie said. "Would you talk her into changing out of that pink hoodie her father gave her? She won't take it off."

"I'll do my best," he said.

Josie hung up, feeling a little better. She was giving up some of her control over her daughter, but she no longer felt she could cope with the problems Nate had caused.

Josie knocked on Amelia's door. "Your grandfather is coming to see you," she said. The girl was still curled up in bed, pale and unmoving, wearing the rumpled hoodie.

Amelia made no response. Josie decided to leave her alone. She reheated a cup of coffee and was gratified to hear sounds of running water coming from Amelia's bathroom.

Jack made it to Josie's home in less than half an hour. Once again, Josie was struck by how much he looked like Nate. It hurt her to see him. She could almost imagine Nate was alive again. She brushed away those thoughts and the tears that went with them, and opened the door.

"Thanks for being here," she said.

"How is my granddaughter?" Jack said. "May I see her?"

"I'm right here," Amelia said. She was still too pale, but washed and dressed, with her dark hair neatly pulled back by a headband. She was still wearing the precious hoodie, which was getting a bit gray around the edges.

"You look nice," her grandfather said. "You've made an effort with your appearance. I'd like to ask one more favor, please?"

"What?" Amelia's voice was suddenly frosty with suspicion.

"That hoodie is lovely, but not as fresh as it should be. Would you change into something a little cleaner? Your mother will wash it while we're gone."

Amelia's jaw started to thrust forward with that bulldog stubbornness. Jack saw it, too.

"I hear the Posh Nosh has good buffalo pastrami," he said. "If we're going to lunch at some place posh, we should dress the part."

"I don't trust her," Amelia said stubbornly.

"I do," Jack said. "Your father trusted your mother. Nate said Josie did the right thing to keep you away from him when he was dealing. No matter what you see on the television, there is nothing romantic about what my son did. He sold drugs that killed people."

"No!" Amelia said. "Daddy wouldn't do anything bad."

"You can still love him, Amelia, even though he had his faults. Now, will you please change so we can go for a bite to eat, just the two of us?"

Amelia stood there, and for a moment Josie was afraid she would refuse. Then she turned around and walked toward her room.

Josie let out the breath she didn't realize she was holding. "I think she's going to be all right," she said.

"I'll do my best to talk to her," Jack said.

Amelia reappeared, wearing a blue-and-white striped shirt. "That's my girl," her grandfather said. "You look posh indeed."

Josie felt a momentary panic when she saw her daughter get in the car with her grandfather. What if Jack drove off and didn't return? What if he took Amelia to Canada?

And not claim his son's body for burial? I don't think so, Josie told herself.

But just in case, she made a note of the rental car's license plate.

Chapter 20.

"You're going to throw Daddy away?" Amelia said.

Josie heard fresh tears in her daughter's voice. Amelia had hardly stopped crying since Nate died five days ago. Amelia's eyelids were rimmed with pink and her nose was red. She didn't want to go to school, and Josie didn't have the heart to insist. Amelia needed to mourn in privacy.

"No, no, sweetheart," Jack said. He leaned forward in his chair."I'm going to scatter your daddy's ashes.There's a big difference. Scattering a man's ashes is respectful."

"But then Daddy won't have a grave." Amelia looked even more upset.

"I can't stick my son in a box in the dark ground," Jack said. "He hated being cooped up like a chicken in-" His words skidded to a stop. He couldn't bring himself to say "prison."

"Amelia, it wouldn't be right," her grandfather continued. "Pilots need freedom. They belong in the sky."

"But how will I remember him?" Amelia asked.

"Look in the mirror and you'll always have your father with you," Josie said. "That's what he told you. You look just like him. Remember?"