Chapter 16

“Andrew, it just said ‘I’ll be with you soon.’” Josie held the phone clamped on her shoulder with the side of her head. While she spoke, she tugged off soaked shoes.

“Was your name on it?”

Her arms grew still. “There wasn’t any name.” She sat on the edge of her bed while calmer thoughts came. “Do you think somebody could have left it for Sylvie?”

“Did she ever mention a man besides your father?”

“No. She hasn’t even mentioned him in a while.” Her tenseness left. She smiled at this new idea.

“Maybe there’s some other guy in the picture, and she doesn’t want to tell you yet.”

“Do you think there could be?”

“She is an attractive woman.”

Josie loved the idea. A new man in her mother’s life might be exactly what she needed. “If she is seeing someone, I hope she’ll tell us about it soon.” She told Andrew she’d had a strange morning. She would give him details later but needed to change and get back to work.

His cheer brightened her mood. “I’m glad you called,” he said. “It’s great hearing your voice so early in the day.”

Josie peeled off her clothes, used a blow drier on her hair, and tossed her stockings in a trashcan. Her knees still stung, but she left them alone. She wished she had time to shower again but she would be late enough getting back to the store.

A pinch of sunlight sprinkled through cloud streaks while she drove back. Her same space was open, so she parked in front of a black truck, realizing her former boss hadn’t asked where she currently worked. Maybe he also knew that. She had left the note from the backdoor on the kitchen table, supposing Sylvie would know what it meant and who wrote it.

Grateful to find Eve and Mrs. Banto busy with customers and both of her bosses distracted in their offices, Josie got right to work on Tabatha’s gown. She rushed to overcompensate for the time she’d lost and soon found she was sewing two layers of fabric together.

Making herself slow down, she ripped the few hand stitches that held the skirts together, being careful not to pull the material. Afterward she laid one skirt to the side while she worked on the other one.

“All dry?” Randall Allen startled her, making her almost miss a stitch.

She felt her face redden. “I hope I’ll stay that way.”

“Did my wife give you the number of my friend who wanted to make a donation?”

“Yes, thank you. I’ll pick it up this evening.”

His eyebrows creased. “You need to be careful alone after dark now.”

Through the edge of her eye, Josie spied Otis Babineaux in the main showroom staring at them. When Josie met his gaze, he moved toward the front of the shop. “I will,” she said, quieting her uneasiness. Too much tension today, she decided, refusing to entertain fearful reactions any longer.

Jingling from the front door drew her boss away. “Thank you for coming,” Mr. Allen said in the showroom. “We hope you’ll come back again.”

Eve Walker appeared at the corner of the cubbyhole and, with a finger, called Josie.

Curious, she went to see what her co-worker wanted.

She could see Gloria Banto replacing wedding gowns the recent customer had tried on. Mr. Allen had gone to his office and sat at his desk, working with papers. In the office beside his, Otis Babineaux was doing the same.

“I just learned something about him,” Eve said in a quiet voice, nodding toward Babineaux. “His wife is always soaking up the bottle.”

“The bottle?”

Eve made a motion of downing a drink. “Inhales it, that’s what she does with liquor.” The elder woman’s face tightened with sadness. “My mother was like that.”

Josie glanced at Otis Babineaux, stroking his beard and poring through papers, with newfound respect. He had family problems, just like she did. No wonder he seemed strange and moody.

When the store closed, she made certain to face him squarely. In a loud voice, she said, “I hope you have a nice evening, Mr. Babineaux.”

He lifted his chin and gazed at her from the bottom section of his eyeglasses.

New satisfaction held Josie while she drove home. She had made a first move, a slight cheerful statement to begin to make amends for what she had thought of her boss. She would continue more efforts to make his days brighter, at least while he was at work.

She grinned when she saw her mother’s car in the garage. Surely her mother had seen the note on the table. Would she now mention a man in her life?

And if her mother did settle down with someone, Josie might foresee a brighter future with Andrew for herself.

“Hi,” she told Sylvie, who busily set the table.

“Hi back.” Sylvie glanced at Josie’s smile. “Looks like you’ve had a good day.”

Josie noticed something different. “When did you get those?” She indicated the green circles on her mother’s earlobes.

Sylvie covered her ears. “They weren’t much. I just caught a little sale. And then I had my discount.”

Josie’s breath caught. “A little sale? On emeralds?”

“Oh really, Josie.” Sylvie scurried to the refrigerator. “I don’t know why I have to clear every little purchase with you.”

A trapped feeling overwhelmed Josie. How could she get her lone parent to realize they needed to conserve money? What were they supposed to do when a call came? Say, “Sorry, Doc, we can’t afford a transplant right now. Call us again when the next one’s available. Maybe by then we’ll have saved a little. Mom needed extra jewels.”

The refrigerator door slammed but Sylvie hadn’t taken anything out. She grabbed a crystal bottle of vinegar and slapped it down on the table. “I swear, Josie, you make everything so dramatic.” She planted her fists on the silk fabric coating her hips. “As if one little pair of earrings would break us.”

Josie stared at the woman who seemed to have lost all reasoning some time during the last months. With a sense of mourning, Josie drifted away to the den.

Colin slept. His face rested toward Fred, whose tubes suctioned dark liquid. Without waking, the child emitted small groans. His legs sprawled in separate directions, resembling cooked noodles.

Sylvie had hooked him up this time. That was a good sign.

His right hand came up and touched his opposite arm. Josie was ready to stop him from pushing against the shunt, but as soon as his fingers touched there, Colin’s eyes opened. His hand slipped away. His eyelids widened and his eyes appeared glazed. He saw Josie beside him and, without any expression, again shut his eyes. Breathing hard, he grumbled while he sank deeper into sleep.

Josie checked his pressure. Too high. She adjusted knobs to pump more fluid off faster and then grabbed the phone in her bedroom. She told the receptionist she needed Dr. Hagger.

He was out on an emergency.

“I have one, too. Colin’s gotten worse!”

“Yes, we know. But his name has been put on the list.”

“Can’t we get his name higher on that list?”

Josie knew the answer without hearing the reply, but the lady used words she’d obviously repeated many times.

“Yes, I will try to be patient,” Josie said. She snapped down the receiver, muttered an oath, and wondered what she’d expected. Because the name Colin Aspen had finally been typed on that list, did it mean someone would immediately die to give him new life?

Anger piled on top of her frustration. Why couldn’t she or her mother be a match for him? Why would someone now have to expire for her brother to be able to survive?

And why had Colin’s favorite television station begun airing pictures of people who were waiting for various organs and saying that while waiting, many of them would die?

Crossing the den to get the remote from Colin’s chair and turn off the TV, Josie saw a newscast begin. The meteorologist said a shifting high-pressure system was sending Hurricane Charmaine, whose winds had weakened, down toward Mexico.

Something positive there, she decided She said a prayer for the people who lived in that area and a thank-you prayer for herself and her family. Only two months remained before hurricane season would be over.

Colin’s pressure looked better. He was deep in slumber and didn’t move when Josie checked it again. Going to the kitchen, she expected Sylvie to be fixing his plate.

Their mother leaned against the polished refrigerator, her fingers gingerly tracing her neckline. She stopped when Josie entered. Their gazes locked.

Sylvie’s hand fell away and Josie saw what she’d stroked. A new gold chain holding a new large emerald pendant.

Sylvie shrank back as Josie stormed through the room and out the back door.

She sped to the mall, where she strode into a store she had never frequented. “I want that,” she told a salesclerk wearing an expensive ankle-length dress.

“A nice choice. You can’t go wrong with this fine leather bag.” The woman rang up the sale and when she gave the total Josie stopped from wincing and presented her seldom-used credit card. She accepted the package feeling no pleasure.

People in shorts and some in Sunday clothes wove through the mall’s central corridor. Josie glanced at stores alien to her and headed two doors down to a jewelry shop that gave the most competition to Your Jewelry Place, where Sylvie worked.

“That looks good,” she said when she reached a display case.

A gentleman in a pinstripe suit smiled. “That piece is lovely.” He used a key to retrieve the item she indicated. “Diamonds are always a good choice.”

He lifted the bracelet as though it might break if someone touched it. “Would you like to try it on and see how it looks on you?”

“It’ll be fine. Ring it up.”

Her credit card took care of the purchase, and she signed the receipt without thinking of flinching. Her feet led her to one shop after another that she’d never visited. Without consideration, she made selections in every one.

She brought her purchases to Andrew’s apartment and dumped them out on the sofa. “Look. I shopped.”

He surveyed the items. “So you did like her.” He looked at Josie with sad eyes. “Feel better now?”

She peered at her pile of things. They made her feel worse than before. Josie sat and leaned her head on Andrew’s shoulder. “I’ll bring them all back tomorrow.”

* * *

Sylvie seemed to breathe easier during the next days whenever Josie left any room they might be in at the same time. When Josie cooked, her mother busied herself elsewhere in the house, and when Sylvie fixed a meal, Josie stayed at her sewing machine. Work was piling up with an entire bridal party needing dresses altered, so she brought some of the work home.

Both her bosses told her whatever she could accomplish at the store was enough. No one could ask more of her, Mr. Allen said. No seamstress had gotten work out so fast or with such praise from customers.

But Josie wanted to work. She needed to keep busy. Reflecting while her hands worked needle and thread through the peach nub weave of a bridesmaid dress, she thought Colin had been aloof from her these last days. Maybe she’d done something to upset him.

Dismissing the thought, she knew she hadn’t. He’d seemed to grow closer to Sylvie during their time together on the sofa a few nights earlier. It was one of the few unique moments they’d shared since Josie moved here. Maybe that experience started a special bonding, which was building. Besides that, Sylvie had taken him to a movie. At least that was a start for them.

If only Sylvie gave him that consideration all of the time, Colin would be a happy child. Surely he’d want his mother’s attention much more than his sister’s.

Am I jealous?

No, she determined, feeling the tip of her needle press her finger and moving her hand away before drawing blood. That’s how it should be. Colin surely wanted real parents. So did Josie.

By keeping herself occupied, she was finishing the dresses ahead of schedule. She spoke to Andrew almost every evening, but twice he wasn’t home when she called; Johan offered no explanation. Andrew told Josie he missed her too, but she and her mother needed to work some things out. He said Josie had been extra busy with all the sewing she was taking home, and he’d been helping someone with a major problem with a motor. He didn’t offer a name.

Josie was annoyed and concerned, yet she understood. She hadn’t been good company lately.

She arrived home from work one afternoon with yet another gown to alter and found mail on her desk. A manila envelope drew her attention. Her name and address were printed on it.

Steadying her hands that started to quiver, she opened one end.

A small square of royal blue silk was stapled to an unlined page with words penned in black: I’M READY.

Josie’s throat constricted. Who could be sending this? She recalled the note taped to the backdoor that she’d forgotten to ask Sylvie about after she’d seen Sylvie wearing that new jewelry. That sheet of paper had disappeared, and Josie still didn’t know if it had been put there by a man her mother had started dating. Maybe Sylvie just tossed it as trash.

Josie wanted Andrew with her, but lately he hadn’t seemed there for her. She grabbed the phone to notify the police. Holding it in midair, she considered what she would say. “Two scraps of fabric arrived in envelopes. Do you think someone is out to hurt me?” She lowered the phone.

As much as she tried to ignore what she had received as a teenager’s prank, Josie found herself slipping the scrap and envelope into a drawer instead of the trash can.

She collected donations from people who had called the radio station. They’d heard her commercials about becoming organ donors. Most of them mentioned they’d signed to donate their useful organs when their lives ended. Some also gave money.

Cheyenne Moore looked pleased when he handed Josie the checks. “People are listening,” he said, giving her a wink and a big nod.

“I’m glad. They’ll surely help some people.” She left the radio station praying one of those recipients would be in her family.

Doing something for others made her feel better, Josie saw firsthand. She considered another she might help. During a lunch break, she drove a few blocks from the shop and entered a door marked “AA.” Inside she found the same kind of helpful people she’d seen at Gamblers’ Anonymous meetings. Two of them spoke with her, answering questions and giving her brochures.

Back at Ye Bridal Shoppe she found Eve alone, going into the restroom. Neither of their bosses had returned from lunch.

Josie hurried into Otis Babineaux’s office. She pulled out what she’d brought and left it in a stack on his desk beside a folder labeled Tuxedos. Before she ducked out, Josie glanced around the room she hadn’t entered before, taking note of how every object sat in place. On one wall were five pictures of beach scenes. Unusual, she considered. None of their frames hung askew.

On Babineaux’s wide desk a pen with the end flared lay straight against the shut folder he’d worked on. Two similar pens stood in a leather holder. Adjacent to this sat his calendar depicting more beaches.

He must love the water, Josie decided. She scurried out of his office and almost ran into Eve Walker.

The woman gave her a look with raised questioning eyebrows. When Josie offered no explanation for being in the room, her co-worker glanced in. She peered again at Josie, who gave only a shrug and a smile.

Josie allowed herself to feel good, especially a few minutes later, when Otis Babineaux returned. He strode into the shop with a man about his size also wearing a suit, and without hesitation, guided him to his office. Josie was busying herself near hanging dresses, rearranging some so they wouldn’t be crowded. Through the corner of her eye she watched both men sit.

Babineaux spoke, but his words seemed to abruptly cut off when his gaze found something out of place. He grasped the brochures and slipped them beneath the folder at the same moment his gaze turned to Josie.

She moved away from his line of sight and heard his door shut.

Grinning, she knew as soon as the man left his office, Otis Babineaux would uncover what he’d hidden with his folder. He might surmise but wouldn’t be certain of where they had come from.

But it might do him some good to find the pamphlets with titles like Living with the Alcoholic and Co-dependency. Josie had been given similar material during meetings that helped Andrew, and they had both realized his new chance for a future.

She left the store at five-fifteen hoping she had helped someone, too.

Her feel-good mood remained while she made her way through household duties and paid bills. Afterward she drove to the supermarket. She was strolling through aisles of canned goods when her spirit drained. She was only twenty-three, for God’s sake. Maybe if she trusted Sylvie to take care of more duties, she would begin acting more responsibly and Josie wouldn’t have to. Josie needed to foresee some future. She hoped it included Andrew.

Arriving home, she was thinking of the note that came. I’m ready. What did that mean? With renewed apprehension, she found a cardboard box down where she parked. Leaving her car running, Josie replaced the box on a shelf and pulled in, wondering if Annie’s cat had been up on the shelf.

With arms loaded with groceries, she walked to the patio. The swing was moving.

A pulse strengthened in Josie’s head. No wind blew. Someone had just left this area. And that person had probably been inside the garage.

Whoever sent Josie the note in the mail might be the same person who’d left that note taped to the back door.

Josie peered across the rear lawn.

Night cloaked the area in darkness. She could see nothing stirring. She studied the row of pampas grasses, expecting someone to jump out from them.

She steadied her bags and turned to go inside.

Maurice stepped up.

A cry left Josie’s lips.

“Watching,” he whispered.

Apples shook from Josie’s bag. She smelled his musty suit and backed away.

“Watching,” he repeated, rushing forward. His arm brushed roughly against Josie’s as he scooted beside her. He ran into the dark lawn, shouldered through bushes, and vanished.

She worked to quiet her heartbeat, watching the blade-like long leaves of pampas grasses. Would he come rushing back through them?

What was the man capable of doing? Why did he tell her what he did?

Josie’s legs tensed. A knock sounded and she jumped, looking up at the door.

Colin’s grinning face pressed against a glass pane. He tapped on it again and waved.

Josie smiled weakly, fighting to regain her composure.

Colin. That’s who’d been watching.

* * *

Evening had fully descended by the time the man standing in the dark studied Josie through her mini-blinds. Inside her bedroom, she slipped out of her dress. She shook her arm loose from one strap and then the other. Her black slip fell past her hips. Reaching behind for her bra strap, she stopped, her face turning toward the window.

Surely she couldn’t see out into the black moonless night.

She backed away and yanked her purse up from her dresser. Digging through it, she tiptoed toward the window aiming a can of something. As though she could spray through the glass.

The man ducked away from his hiding place. He flattened himself against the brick wall.

Through the spot where she now pulled down the slats, Josie would see movement. It would come only from branches of bushes since a strong easterly wind was blowing. Even the swing on her patio might be in motion.

Her slats dropped. The blinds shut tight and she spoke to someone.

Her mother must have entered or come near the bedroom.

“I still think he’s weird,” Josie said, speaking louder than if someone had been right beside her.

“He just misses his grandmother,” her mother called back. Maybe they were on opposite sides of Josie’s door.

“I guess he had nothing to do,” the mother said, her shadow moving to just inside the window, where she sat.

Josie asked about the smell of seafood, and the man slid away, enjoying the thrill that tingled in his loins from knowing seconds ago she had feared him.

Anticipation stirred, giving him tremors.

He wanted her now!

He stopped. Turning back, he saw more movement in her bedroom.

I want to be with you, his thoughts said to her.

He stepped again to her window.

Inside her room, they both laughed. He didn’t want her laughter. The terror that appeared in her eyes was what he yearned for.

Yes, he could give her that look. He’d let her experience foreboding, knowing she was most comfortable wearing worry.

He raised his gloved hand and grabbed her window.

No, the voice inside told him. Not yet. Not with others near.

If he went to her now, he would need to dispose of her family. No major problem, but the killing of her mother and young brother would distract him. He yearned to give Josie his full attention.

“Very shortly, Josie,” he whispered, backing from her window. “Very soon you and I will be alone.”

His hand stroked the fabric. Before long he would know total ecstasy.

And she would experience absolute terror.