The O'Connells Box Set

Chapter 22

Reine ate the rest of the half sandwich, tasting the off-ness of the deli meat, but at least she wouldn’t be hungry. She downed a glass of water before shoving on her shoes, seeing the hole in the toe and picturing her first check, which she expected next Thursday. She’d pick up groceries first, just the items she knew would be on sale, and maybe a new pair of shoes.

When she heard a knock on the door, she stared at it and instantly went to her feet. The alarm that shot through her was an unwelcome friend that had been there too long. There was just something about visitors, first Manny and then the O’Connells. She feared the next would be a cop there to arrest her and drag her back to jail. Maybe Marcus himself. Something whispered in her ear that reality was just around the corner.

She had to swallow the panic that was choking her and had her struggling to pull in a breath. Her legs shook as she stood, but she made herself take a step to the door, her heart hammering again, her hand fisted and damp as she rested it on the doorknob and squeezed. She pressed her forehead to the door and shut her eyes for a second, pleading for nothing bad to be there.

Then she pulled it open and blinked as she took in Suzanne O’Connell, a smile on her face and a paper bag of groceries in her arms.

Like, what the hell was this?

“Good morning,” Suzanne said. “I hope you slept okay. Listen, I felt so bad over what happened last night. It could have been handled better than it was. Now, I’m probably completely overstepping. Apparently it’s one of my many flaws, as has been pointed out by my brothers and my husband. But I took a chance you would still be here, and I brought you groceries. Can I come in?”

Reine wasn’t sure what expression was on her face as she gripped the door. The sandwich was sitting like lead in her stomach. Suzanne was still standing there, not pushing her way in—yet. She was bringing her groceries?

“I don’t understand,” she said, looking past her.

Maybe Suzanne understood, as she shook her head and said, “It’s just me. Marcus isn’t here, or the rest of my family. In fact, they don’t know I’m here. Well, just Harold, my husband, because he’s looking after the baby before he has to go to work.” She was rambling in this over-the-top happy way.

Reine stepped back and motioned inside. “Why not?”

Apparently, that was all Suzanne needed, as she strode in with a bright smile and set the paper bag on the chipped and marked-up kitchen counter. Reine looked out, seeing a light blue Kia parked behind the pickup and three other cars beside the mess of garbage cans.

She closed the door and watched as Suzanne, a stranger, put eggs, milk, and cheese into her fridge. Reine walked over, seeing dish soap, a new sponge, bread, butter, peanut butter, and chicken, as well, along with two of cans of what she thought was soup. She just stared and couldn’t make sense of what this was.

“I don’t understand why you’re doing this,” was all she could get out as she watched this woman invade her space and fill her fridge. Her mouth watered as she took in the sandwich meat, lettuce—and was that really a small jar of mayonnaise?

Suzanne was tall, with long hair hiked back in a ponytail, in blue jeans and a bulky T-shirt. She closed up Reine’s tiny fridge, which was now full. “You had no food, Reine. I saw that last night when we were here. And I didn’t know what to do, seeing how upset you were after what happened to you.” She turned and gestured to her face as if she needed a reminder of the smackdown she’d taken.

Her hand went up and touched the tender side of her face as she took in Suzanne, who had the same eye color as her brother. The resemblance was there. She still didn’t know what this was.

“I took a minute last night, trying to figure out what I’d do if I were in your spot,” Suzanne said.

Reine just stared at this woman, Marcus’s sister, who was folding up the paper bag as if she needed something to do, looking over to her. All Reine could see now was the box of granola bars and cookies on the counter. Reine realized Suzanne had stopped talking and was now watching her with her lips pressed tight and an odd, sad smile. Reine couldn’t get her tongue to move.

“It may not be much,” Suzanne said, “but I figured, seeing that you had some food in your cupboards, your fridge was a start. You’re just out of jail, just working?”

Reine knew it was a question, and she forced herself to nod, not missing the way Suzanne’s gaze lingered on the side of her face and her jaw, where the swelling had left a nice green and blue hue.

Suzanne reached into her pocket and pulled out a tube of what looked like concealer, which she held out to her.

“What is this?” Reine said.

“Your face, the bruising. Anyone looking at it will know you’ve been hit. This will hide some of the bruising, at least, so you don’t have people asking questions you can’t answer.”

She stared at the small tube of concealer and then the door. “I have to go to work. Thanks for this and the food… I just don’t understand why you’re doing this, why you’re being so nice.”

Maybe this was Suzanne’s way of getting Reine to walk away from her daughter. Her distrust burned.

Suzanne lifted both her hands in surrender and shook her head. “I have no ulterior motive, I assure you. You’re Eva’s mother, and I know what happened to you, what you went through. You have to know we never believed you got a fair shake, none of us. What happened to your husband? He was a firefighter?”

Reine wondered when the floor would collapse beneath her, leaving her shellshocked and down again. She didn’t welcome anyone bringing up her dead husband, Vern.

“Well, I used to be a firefighter here, once upon a time,” Suzanne said, “until I was forced out, which is another story. But I know what happened to your husband wasn’t right or fair, and it has happened to too many firefighters in this country. Medical insurers look for any way to pull funding and any loophole to get out of paying, citing clauses about pre-existing conditions. Suddenly, that first responder’s family has nothing, loses everything because medical bills are not covered. You were screwed, Reine, you and Eva and your husband, and I’m sorry for that.

“When I left last night, I racked my brain trying to figure out what I could do to help you, and one of the things you learn first in an emergency is triage. So here is triage, food so you can eat. I want to take that one worry off your plate. It’s a start, Reine. I’m not the enemy. It’s just that if I were in your position, I would want someone to give a damn and give me a helping hand. I can see you think there’s something more, but I assure you there isn’t. It’s just food. It doesn’t come with strings.”

She wasn’t sure she believed her, even though she wanted to. That was a trap she wouldn’t let herself fall into.

“Well, thank you…” she said before glancing at the small old digital clock. The time was eight sixteen, and panic shot through her as she thought of how long it would take her to get to work. This time, if she was late, her job would be gone. “Oh, shoot, I’ve got to go. I’m late, and I can’t be late…”

“I’ll drive you. Go put that on your face,” Suzanne said with a sympathy she didn’t understand.

Reine hesitated only a second before hurrying to her bathroom with the tube of concealer and flicking on her light, hearing rustling from her kitchen. She took in the swelling she couldn’t hide, and she squeezed the cover-up on her fingers and gently smoothed it over the bruising, careful with the tender spot, which still hurt.

What did Suzanne O’Connell really want? There had to be something.

She took in her face, seeing it had helped some. At least the blue and green bruise wouldn’t be the first thing people saw. She rinsed her hands and took in her faded blue and white T-shirt, her old grey hoodie, and the same blue jeans she’d worn the day before. She knew there was nothing she could do about her clothes.

She dried her hands on the thin old towel, flicked off the light, and strode out, seeing Suzanne at the door, pulling it open and nodding to her.

“Can barely see it from here,” she said. “Let’s go.”

She followed Suzanne out the door and pulled it closed before shoving her only key in the lock and turning it. She tucked it into her pocket and took one step, and Suzanne handed her a granola bar.

“Here,” she said. “Not sure if you’ve eaten yet, but at least you’ve got it.”

She took in the green wrapper and tucked it into her pocket as well as she hurried to Suzanne’s car, where she pulled open the passenger door and slid onto the cloth seat. She pulled the door closed and reached for the seatbelt as Suzanne put the car in reverse and backed out.

“I’m sorry if I seem a little defensive,” Reine said. “It’s right at the end of this block. Take it all the way down to Graham Street…”

“Better Way Homecare?”

Reine found herself staring at the woman, suddenly feeling the rug being yanked out from under her again. How the hell did she know that?

Suzanne must have known she was right when Reine didn’t answer, as she drove fast down the street and glanced once her way. “Marcus told us last night. He found out where you lived and worked. That’s just something about our family. We tend to share everything. Don’t freak out about it.”

She said nothing at first, wondering why it seemed she had a target on her. “Well, I guess that shouldn’t surprise me. So should I expect a visit at work from the sheriff? Maybe my boss will get a visit, too, and next I’ll be out of a job. Or is this where I hear the warning that if I want to keep my job, have a roof over my head, and stay out of jail, I need to walk away from my daughter? Because if that’s the case, you can pull over right now and let me out, and I’ll say thank you for the food, but stay the hell away from me.”

Suzanne wasn’t smiling. She just shook her head.

Reine’s go-to was anger. She couldn’t shake the fury that seemed to be her constant companion and had her wanting to yell and scream and rage at the world.

“You have it all wrong, Reine,” Suzanne said. “That’s not what this is about. And Marcus wouldn’t do that. I can see you already have your mind made up, but my brother isn’t the bad guy here. None of us are. He told us he didn’t handle it well when you showed up yesterday at the door, when you said you wanted Eva back. It scared my brother and Charlotte. You have to know we love that little girl. She’s part of our family, Reine. Even though I want a peaceful resolution here, my showing up this morning with groceries and driving you to work is just that. Don’t make me the bad guy, too, because I’m not. In fact, Marcus doesn’t know I’m here. You have to know how upset Eva was last night when you didn’t show up. She told all of us, and I’ve never seen her so excited, so scared, so nervous. Then there was the way she cried when you didn’t show.”

Hearing Suzanne talk about her daughter and how upset she had been only added to the giant hole in her heart, which she didn’t think would ever heal. Suzanne turned left and gave the car gas, driving toward the front of the concrete strip mall. She took in the sign for Better Way Homecare and could see Ivy just getting out of her car.

“So she thinks I deserted her again,” Reine said. “I bet Marcus loved that.”

The ache that seemed to be her familiar companion had her wincing and her eyes burning. This wasn’t the time to fall apart. Everything she did was for her daughter, breathing, living. Suzanne pulled into the lot and parked in front of the glass industrial door just as Ivy pulled it open and glanced back to her in the car. She took in the clock in the car, seeing she was early by ten minutes. At least she hadn’t screwed this up. She felt a hand reach over and touch her arm.

“Reine, please, whatever you think of my brother, he’s not a monster,” Suzanne said. “He told her it wasn’t your fault, that some grownup stuff happened, but he promised her he would check on you, make sure you were okay, and that she would see you. Marcus is not going to let Eva think the worst of you, as if she could. Don’t jump to automatically accusing Marcus of driving a wedge between you. He feels bad over what your parole officer did to you. We all do. But he’s reasonable. Please, Reine, all I ask is that you find a way to be reasonable, too.”

Reine reached for the door, feeling Suzanne’s hand still on her arm. She let her gaze slip to it until Suzanne pulled her hand away, and Reine gave the door a hard yank open and stepped out before looking back to Marcus’s sister, still unable to figure out what this was.

“Thanks for the ride,” she said.

Suzanne only nodded.

Reine closed the door just as Ivy stepped back out from the office in pink scrubs with the Better Way logo on front, carrying a tote, her gaze lingering on Reine’s worn jeans.

“Pete wasn’t here when I finished yesterday, so I can’t do anything about what I’m wearing,” Reine said.

Ivy propped open the glass industrial door with her foot and nodded to Suzanne’s car, which was just backing out. “See you got a ride, a nice car. Who is that?”

The last thing she wanted to do was share anything personal with Ivy, especially the O’Connell name. Paranoid or not, she knew it would find its way back to her parole officer.

“A friend, is all,” she said “Is Pete in? I’ll ask him now about the uniform.” She went to step inside.

Ivy wasn’t smiling, not moving from where she stood in the open door. “Yeah, he’s in his office, waiting for you. Not sure what you did, Reine, but I can’t remember Pete ever being so angry. He’s in a mood this morning.” Then she let go of the door and walked to her car.

Reine took in the closing door and froze, terrified of what was waiting for her on the other side. She listened to the slam of the car door behind her, feeling the constant cycle of terror, and for the first time in her life, she wondered if running was now her only choice.