Chapter Twenty
Colleen was pleased that Jackson had had a good day with his father. She was stunned by the way Jackson described her mother-in-law, laughing and singing. Vivian rarely smiled. As long as it was a good experience for Jackson, Colleen was happy. What she was concerned about was the nightmare he had had that night. When she heard him screaming, she flew out of bed and dashed into his room. Once she had calmed him down, he said he couldn’t remember anything except that a yellow monster with no teeth kept sticking his face in Jackson’s, and Gram was trying to pull the monster off him.
Colleen had no idea what it could have meant, but she suspected it had something to do with his outing with his father. But Jackson had been in a fine mood when he got home. He admitted that he got a little sad when Gram dropped his dad off at Aunt Elaine and Uncle Greg’s, but he insisted that he had had a great day.
She was also incredibly happy that Ellie had been up early and let Jackson into the yard. Colleen wished she had taken a photo of Jackson sleeping on the swing with Buddy underneath. Clearly, there were no nightmares there.
Colleen fussed around the kitchen, assembling Jackson’s requested tuna fish sandwich. She looked in the pantry for sweet relish. There was none. She wondered if she could call Ellie and ask if she had any. Isn’t that what most neighbors do? Of course, Ellie wasn’t most neighbors, so she dropped the idea. “Honey? I’m sorry, but I don’t have any sweet relish to put in your tuna.”
“That’s OK, Mom. Just put some extra celery.” Jackson seemed refreshed after playing with Buddy and taking a siesta on the bench swing. Colleen chopped up a bit more celery and tossed it in the mayonnaise-and-tuna mixture. She finished making the sandwich and handed it to Jackson on a plate, with a napkin.
“Ms. Bowman is a really nice lady, Mom.” Jackson dived into his lunch like he hadn’t eaten in weeks.
“Easy there. You don’t want to choke.”
Jackson made a smacking sound as he chewed, knowing that his mom would say something. She gave him a look, then smiled. Jackson did the same, then continued to eat like a normal person. “I was pretending to be Buddy. He chomps on his Bully Stick like that.”
“You really like going over there, don’t you?” Colleen took the seat across from him at the kitchen table.
“Yes. Like I said, she’s a very nice lady.” He took another bite. “I wish she would come out and play with us sometime. I bet Buddy would like it, too.”
“Maybe one of these days.” Colleen wished it were true, too. “So what are you going to do this afternoon?”
Jackson shrugged. “Probably ride my bike over to Billy’s, if that’s OK with you.”
Billy Warren lived on the next block. Their streets were parallel dead ends, and the connecting road had light traffic. Jackson knew that once he got to the end of his block, he had to walk his bike over to Billy’s street. It seemed silly, but Colleen was wary about Jackson’s being on a bicycle where there were cars going in both directions. One slip, and he could be in harm’s way. Birchwood Lane only had five houses, so the only cars coming down the street were those owned by the people who lived there, delivery people, or friends and family. Everyone knew there were children in the neighborhood and minded the speed limit. Except for Andy. He drove as slow as molasses, but no one cared. His car was big enough to see from one end of the street to the other, and everyone knew to get out of his way.
Andy’s house was across from Colleen’s. The house next to his, which was catty-corner to hers, had been on the market for two months. There would be an occasional open house, which was the only time Colleen worried about traffic on their street.
She heard a car door open and close, and went to the window to see who it was. It was Marjorie Stiles, the real-estate agent, exchanging the FOR SALE sign with one that said SOLD.
“What’s up, Mom?” Jackson was still working on his lunch.
“Looks like we’re going to be getting new neighbors.”
“Do they have kids?” Jackson asked.
“I don’t know, honey. The agent just put up the ‘sold’ sign.”
“Maybe we should go ask?” Jackson wouldn’t mind another kid on the block. At present, he was the only one.
Colleen thought about it a minute. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to find out who was going to live on her street, so close to her house and son. “OK. Let’s go! Are you finished with your lunch?”
Jackson wiped his mouth and turned his plate over to show her.
“Put it in the sink, and we’ll go over.”
Jackson obeyed and grabbed his baseball jacket. Colleen pulled a wrap around her shoulders. It was spring, but there was still a bit of a chill in the air. She put her cell phone in the back pocket of her jeans. It was always a crapshoot getting cell service. It depended on where you stood, but it was never consistent. Colleen thought she was incredibly lucky it had worked the night of the domestic disturbance; otherwise, she and Jackson would have had to climb out the window.
They crossed the street and greeted Marjorie Stiles. “Hey, Marge! I see you sold the house,” Colleen said.
“Hey, Colleen. Hey, Jackson. Yes. A very nice, youngish family. They have a son who is around twelve and a daughter who’s a little younger than Jackson.”
Jackson was getting excited about the idea of having a boy on the street to play with.
“When is the closing?” Colleen asked.
“Next week,” Margie answered.
“So soon?” Colleen asked.
“Yes, they had the cash. They’d put a deposit on another house, but the deal fell through. And now they have to move out because the person who bought their house was promised a move-in date. Since it was a cash deal, we were able to put a rush on it. They’ll be moving in very soon.”
“Wow. That is fast,” Colleen said.
“Yeah. The Bentleys were anxious to close. It’s been on the market for way too long. I kept telling Mr. Bentley that he was asking too much, so when the cash offer was put on the table, he couldn’t snap up the money quick enough.”
Margie leaned over and whispered in Colleen’s ear. “I’ve heard that the older kid had a run-in with the police, so keep an eye on Jackson.”
“Great,” Colleen said sarcastically. That’s all she needed. More trouble. “Anything serious?” She held her breath.
“Shoplifting, I think.” Margie stood back, looking at her handiwork.
“Do you know what kind of shoplifting?”
“I think he stole a motorcycle.”
“What? That’s not shoplifting.” Colleen was beside herself.
“Because he’s a minor, they went easy on him.”
Colleen shook her head in dismay.
“Don’t worry. His mother told me that he’s been on his best behavior since they put him in juvie for a weekend.”
“Kind of a scared straight thing?” Colleen asked.
“I guess you could call it that.”
Colleen knew all too well about juvenile detention programs, having been in the teaching profession for over a decade. She had to admit that there wasn’t a whole lot to do in Hibbing. “Well, I hope you’re right about his good behavior. I have enough problems right now.”
“Gotcha,” Marge replied. “Take it easy, Colleen. See ya, Jackson.” Marge got in her car and waved as she drove away.
“What did you mean about problems, Mom? You and Dad?”
“I guess you could say that. Come on. Let’s go back into the house.” Colleen was fit to be tied. She really did not need to have to worry about someone being a bad influence on her son.
“Mom? Are you mad?” Jackson asked innocently.
“No, sweetie. I just need to figure out a few things.”
“You keep saying that. How long do you think you’ll be figuring things out before you figure them out?” Jackson was a smart kid, but sometimes the grown-up stuff was more than he could understand.
“I know.” She let out a big sigh. “Are you going over to Billy’s?
“Yep. If it’s still all right.”
“Sure thing. You know the rules.”
“Yes. Walk my bike on Clifton Avenue until I get to Billy’s street.”
“And be home before dark.”
“Right-o.” Jackson walked over to the side of the house, where he kept his bike under the carport. He wheeled it out onto the street and hopped on. “See ya later, alligator!”
“After a while, crocodile.” She waved him off and marched back into the house.
She was unnerved at the idea of a new family with a bad kid moving across the street. Jackson already had enough to deal with, let alone someone who could be a bad influence on him. She really needed someone to talk to.
Colleen picked up her landline and dialed the number that was on the original card Ellie had sent over inviting Jackson to play in the yard.
The phone rang five times before Ellie picked up.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Ellie. It’s Colleen. I am sorry to bother you, but I need someone I can talk to.”
Ellie was surprised to hear what sounded like distress coming from Colleen.
“Sure. What’s up?” Ellie didn’t mind lending an ear.
“I don’t know if you noticed, but the house that’s been up for sale has just been sold. I just saw the real-estate agent today.”
“What happened?” Ellie thought selling a house in the neighborhood couldn’t be such a bad thing.
“They have two kids. A twelve-year-old boy and a seven-year-old daughter.”
“That might be good for Jackson, no?”
“No. The kid was in trouble with the law.”
“Oh, that could be a big problem.” Ellie now understood Colleen’s concern. “What kind of trouble?”
“He stole a motorcycle. Can you believe that? A twelve-year old stealing a bike, as in the motor type.” Colleen was pacing in her kitchen. “And they only charged him with shoplifting! Amazing.”
“I assume that’s because he’s a minor and they didn’t want him to have a serious record.”
“Sounds that way. Ellie, I don’t know if I can handle any more trouble right now.”
“I totally understand.”
“They put him through that scared straight program. You know, when they’re supervised but exposed to all the horrible things that can happen to you in jail.”
“Yes. There was a movie about it a number of years ago. I didn’t know it was something they did here.”
“Our state has some issues with drug abuse. Unfortunately, it seems to start in junior high school. Kids overdosing on opioids.”
“That appears to be a national problem among adults as well.” Ellie sighed.
“Yes, apparently kids steal their parents’ prescriptions, but what’s worse is that someone is making bootlegged pills, so who knows what they’re taking.”
“Colleen, please try to calm down,” Ellie urged. “You don’t know what the circumstances were. Maybe he was just going for a joyride. Kids do that. Not that I know a whole lot about kids, but . . .”
“I guess I’m just frazzled,” Colleen confessed. “All the legal stuff with Mitchel and worrying about Jackson. Now I have a juvenile delinquent moving across the street.”
“I know this has been a very upsetting time for you, but try not to jump to any conclusions.” Ellie could hear the panic in Colleen’s voice.
“You’re right.” Colleen’s anxiety seemed to have eased somewhat. “I guess we’ll find out sooner or later.”
“And you may be pleasantly surprised,” Ellie said, offering more encouragement.
“Thanks, Ellie. You’ve been a real help.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“You listened,” Colleen said. “I don’t have a whole lot of people I can talk to. My mother is on one of her ‘I told you so’ kicks. I can’t speak to Mitchel about any of this, and my mother-in-law, well, who knows what kind of mood she might be in.”
“She’s pretty tough, eh?” Ellie knew little or nothing about Vivian Haywood except that she was a widow and lived on a farm.
“You have no idea. She blames the world for all her suffering.”
“Many people do.” Ellie knew all too well what that was like. Not that she blamed anyone for what had happened to her except herself, but she had dealt with enough people to understand that blaming someone else is often much easier than taking responsibility. It was a national epidemic, along with stupidity and partisanship.
“Although Jackson told me that Vivian was in a great mood yesterday. She was smiling and singing. I don’t think I ever heard that woman sing a note. Never mind smiling.” She gave a little chuckle.
“People can change.” That was something she had hoped would happen with Rick when his father pretty much threw him out on his ass. “But they have to want to change. And even then, wanting doesn’t mean doing. People have to do the work.”
“You are so right, Ellie.”
“Maybe she’s had an epiphany of some sort,” Ellie joked.
“I cannot imagine what that could have been. But Jackson was simply delighted about her new attitude.”
“So he had a good day?” Ellie asked, trying not to pry.
“He did. He told me he got a little weepy when his grandmother dropped Mitchel off at his brother’s, but he was excited to tell me all about the burgers, movie, ice cream, and bowling.”
“Sounds exhausting.” Ellie laughed lightly.
“It must have been. I didn’t have to coax him to go to bed. But he woke up in the middle of the night with a nightmare.”
“Well, that’s not good.”
“That’s probably why he conked out on the swing,” Colleen added. “By the way, your yard is absolutely stunning.”
“Thank you. Hector has done an incredible job.” Ellie wished she could go out and enjoy it, but for now she had to be satisfied with looking at it from the windows.
“Seriously. He’s got a lot of talent,” Colleen said.
“Yes, he’s quite the computer whiz, too. But you probably know that. He’s won a few science awards.”
“Very smart kid. And a particularly good one. His family is lovely, too.”
“They are. His mother sent an invitation for me to join them for dinner, but as you have already guessed, I don’t leave the house.” Ellie knew that might open a can of worms for unwelcome questions, but Colleen didn’t push the issue. “Instead, she sent over a wonderful Cuban dish. It was marvelous, a real treat for someone whose cooking skills are as rudimentary as mine.” Ellie remembered how much she had enjoyed that meal.
“Did you know that Hector’s father is a musician? Not professionally, but his guitar playing would blow you away. He and some of his friends play at local events to help raise money for various groups. It’s always a lot of fun. You should come to one of them.” Colleen stopped dead in her tracks. “Oh, I’m so sorry.” Colleen was embarrassed that she had overstepped.
“It’s OK. Really. You were caught up in the moment,” Ellie reassured her. “Perhaps one day.”
“Well, I’ve already taken up too much of your time. Thank you for talking me down from the ledge.” Colleen was bringing the conversation to a close. She was afraid she might say something out of line again.
“No problem, Colleen. Glad I could help. Call if you need to talk. I’m not going anywhere.” Ellie actually laughed at that last remark.
“Thanks again.” Colleen hung up. She looked for Marge Stiles’s phone number. She wanted to get the name of her new neighbors. Maybe Officer Pedone could give her some information without violating some law. While juvenile records are generally sealed, it was still possible that a story about the incident had appeared in a newspaper or somewhere online.