Lost Innocents (9 page)

“He’d like that one, too,” Ellen said.

The girl went down the row, selecting a half dozen outfits, all of which Ellen agreed to purchase. Pleased but a little surprised by the malleability of her customer, the salesgirl brought them back to the counter to tote up the prices.

“His mother’s going to be thrilled with all these,” the salesgirl said.

Ellen looked at the girl warily. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I mean you’ve got a whole wardrobe here, practically. And all very nice outfits. If there’s anything she already has, or wants to exchange, just tell her to bring it in. We will cheerfully exchange it.”

“That’s nice. I’ll…tell her,” said Ellen.

“What’s his name?” the salesgirl asked.

Ellen squared her shoulders. “Ken,” she said. “His name is Ken.”

“That’s a nice name,” the girl said placidly, laying the clothes on the counter. She removed the tags from each outfit with a tiny nail scissors. “Which card will you be using?”

“Cash,” Ellen said hurriedly, digging through her purse for her wallet. She took out the newspaper and laid it on the counter, the headline and pictures facing up. At last she found her wallet, while the girl carefully folded her purchases and placed them in a pale blue shopping bag festooned with curling white ribbons.

The salesgirl glanced down at the paper. “Terrible, isn’t it?” she said, shaking her head. “About that missing baby….”

Ellen looked up at her, startled. “What?” she asked. “Oh yes,” and she handed the girl a wad of bills, knocking the paper to the floor in her nervous haste. She bent over to pick it up.

“Who would do such a thing?” the girl said, shaking her head as she took the bills over to the register. “It’s unbelievable. Those parents must be beside themselves. I don’t know what this world is coming to.” She spoke in the world-weary tones of the elderly. “I don’t understand it,” she went on absently as she entered the prices from the tags in her hand into the register.

The girl finished her transaction and turned to give Ellen the receipt. The customer and the package were gone. The salesgirl frowned and shook her head. She knew what would happen. Sometime next week the mother would come in, looking to exchange four of the outfits without the receipt. “Why are people so careless?” she asked aloud to the empty store. Shaking her head, she picked up her feather duster from behind the counter and started to flick it over the display of photo frames. As she dusted, she suddenly noticed the expensive-looking, cognac-colored wallet lying on the counter. The doorbell jingled and the salesgirl looked up, expecting to see the woman, who had surely realized her mistake and returned. A pretty young blond woman came into the store, pushing a stroller, and began to browse as the salesgirl picked up the wallet and looked inside.

M
addy walked down the hospital corridor, looking at the numbers above the rooms. She had dropped Bonnie and Sean off at the hospital this morning and had now come back, as promised, to pick them up. Maddy stifled a yawn. It had been a long night, with Sean fussing and Maddy hardly able to sleep for worrying about the insurance situation. She felt completely exhausted by the events of the last few days, she wished she could just go away somewhere and hide from the world. Unfortunately, she did not see any hope for escape on the see on horizon.

At room 304 she stopped, craning her neck to look inside. There were no visitors in the room. The man in the first bed was sitting up, reading a newspaper. He was balding and pudgy and looked to be about forty. His roommate was lying in the other bed, his head turned toward the window. All she could see of him was longish black hair and a tattoo on his upper arm. She turned to the reading the paper.

“Mr. Lewis?” she asked.

The man inclined his head towards the other bed, with a slightly bemused expression his face, then went back to his reading.

Surprised, Maddy tiptoed over to the other bed. “Mr. Lewis?”

When he turned his face to her, Maddy could scarcely conceal her surprise. Bonnie’s husband was not at all what she had expected. He had a broad, high-cheekboned face that would have been handsome had it not been pitted with acne scars. He had a thick, black mustache, peppered, like his hair, with gray, and the bandages across his forehead completed the look of a pirate. A silver crucifix hung from a chain around his wide neck and rested on the flimsy cotton of his hospital gown. His eyes were unfocused, heavy lidded from painkillers. He shifted around in the bed, and Maddy could not fail to notice the well-defined, almost cartoonishly large muscles of his upper body.

“Are you Mr. Lewis?” Maddy asked. She heard, with a shade of embarrassment, the incredulity in her own voice.

“That’s me,” he said, attempting a smile that revealed small, crooked teeth.

Maddy could not keep herself from staring at him. She would never have imagined that plain, prim Bonnie had a husband who looked like a Hell’s Angel. She realized he was waiting for her reply. “Urn…My name is Maddy Blake. Your wife and son…are staying with me.”

“Oh, yeah,” he said. “Hi there.”

“I’m terribly sorry about all this,” she said helplessly.

“That was real decent of you to take in my family,” he said.

“Well, it seemed the least I could do.” She thought of the insurance problem and added quickly, “I was glad to do it. Really.”

He shifted his weight in the bed and winced.

“How are you feeling?” Maddy asked anxiously.

The man laid a hand gingerly on his abdomen. “I’m hurtin’ a bit, I have to say. Doc says I need to take it easy. But my spirit is strong.”

Maddy nodded uncertainly. “Well, I’m sure with that good outlook you’ll make a quick recovery.”

“I hope so,” he said with a sigh. “Did Bonnie tell you about…us…our situation?”

“She said you’d just arrived here to see about a new job.”

A vague look of sadness crossed his face. He nodded, looking away. “That’s right,” he said.

“I feel just terrible about this,” said Maddy. “Will they hold the job for you? I mean, I’d be happy to call your prospective employer and explain what happened. Are you going to be able to work? Did the doctor say?”

Terry shrugged, then winced again. “He said no liftin’. That’s gonna be tough, ’cause I’m a laborin’ man.”

A wave of guilt passed over Maddy at the thought of the Lewises’ predicament. A man in between jobs, a new baby. It seemed so overwhelming. “I’m so sorry,” she said.

“Don’t be sorry for me,” he said. “I’m a lucky man. The good Lord looks out for me. The rest of it’ll work itself out somehow.”

Maddy forced herself to smile. “Do you happen to know where I can find Bonnie and Sean?”

Terry’s glazed eyes achieved a sparkle. “I think she was takin’ him out to feed him. Whadda ya think of my boy?” he asked proudly.

Maddy was able to smile back without reservation. “He’s a. fine boy.”

Terry smiled at a picture of Sean, just newborn, his tiny eyes not even open. The photo was propped against the water carafe on the tray table across his bed. “I never tire of lookin’ at that picture. Proudest day of my life—the day my son was born.” He looked up at Maddy. “You have any children?”

“We have a daughter—Amy,” Maddy said, a little surprised that Bonnie hadn’t mentioned her. “She’s three. She’s at preschool right now.”

“God’s greatest gift, ain’t they? No matter what happens to you, you just keep them always in your heart…” He reached out and stroked the baby’s face in the picture with a stubby forefinger.

“I couldn’t agree more,” said Maddy. This macho man, so unabashedly in love with his child, made her feel wistful. Doug never talked that way about Amy. Maybe if Amy had been a boy, she thought. She knew that some men felt a special bond with their sons….

“I hope we’ll have a little girl one of these days, too,” Terry commented. “A little princess I can carry around on my shoulders. If the Lords wills it….”

His words pierced her rationalization. “Well,” said Maddy, squaring her shoulders, “I’m going to go hunt up Bonnie and Sean and take them home.”

“Could you hand me my Bible before you go?” he asked, pointing in the direction of his bedside table. “I can’t really reach it.”

“Sure,” she said.

She scanned the surface of the table, then opened the drawer and saw the book sitting there. She took it out and handed it to him. The skin of his fingers felt rough and cracked.

“Oh, here they are now,” said Terry with satisfaction.

Maddy looked up and saw that Bonnie had appeared at the foot of the bed, holding Sean against her shoulder.

“Madonna and child…” He sighed.

Bonnie flushed furiously, avoiding Maddy’s curious gaze, and came to his side to kiss him.

Maddy drove home with Bonnie sitting silently beside her, staring out the window at the gloomy October day. In the backseat, Amy sat next to Sean, pretending to read to him from a picture book she had brought home from preschool, while Sean squirmed in her old infant car seat and made little noises of protest.

Every so often Maddy stole a glance at her passenger. Bonnie was wearing a long gray-pleated skirt and a shapeless purple turtleneck that looked as if it had been washed a hundred times. She had on running shoes and sweat socks, and her curly, dull hair looked as if it could never be tamed into any kind of style. Although her hands lay in her lap, they were not at rest. She folded and unfolded her thin fingers in a constant, restless motion. Her gray eyes darted from side to side as if she were perpetually assessing her surroundings. Maddy thought about Bonnie’s placid, tattooed, Bible-reading husband and wondered how in the world these two had ever gotten together.

“Your husband seems to be doing pretty well,” Maddy offered.

Bonnie started, as if awakened from a disturbing dream. Then her face settled into a worried frown. “Better, yes,” she said.

“Did the doctor say how long he had to stay in the hospital?”

“Probably another day or two,” said Bonnie. “Do you want us to leave?”

“No,” said Maddy, a little put off by the abruptness in her tone. “Stay as long as you need to.”

“We’ll be going soon,” Bonnie said firmly. “We’re anxious to get started on our new plans.”

“I’m sure you are,” said Maddy. “But this will give you a little chance to rest up. You must be tired,” she added. “Sean had a pretty tough night.”

“What do you mean?” Bonnie asked.

Maddy heard the defensiveness in her tone and tried to backpedal. “Well, the poor baby had a hard day—the accident, the hospital, a strange house. It didn’t sound like you two got much sleep.”

“He’s fine. We’re both fine,” said Bonnie.

Maddy sighed. She wasn’t being critical, but Bonnie seemed to take offense anyway. “That was good news about the van,” she said, trying another subject. They had stopped at the garage and learned that the only damage was that the oil pan had been ripped off. The mechanic promised it would be replaced, probably by the end of the day.

Bonnie nodded and stared out the windshield. “Yes,” she said. “All things considered.”

“Your husband will be relieved to hear it, I’m sure. He seemed very nice,” said Maddy. “I enjoyed talking to him.”

Bonnie looked at her through narrowed eyes. “Talking about what?”

Maddy shrugged, aware of the suspicion in the other woman’s voice. “He mainly talked about Sean. He’s a very doting dad.”

Bonnie nodded, and the harsh lines of her face seemed to soften. “I know,” she said. “Having a son was his fondest dream.”

“Mommy,” Amy wailed from the backseat, “Sean is pulling my hair.”

“He’s just playing with you, honey. He wants to know what your hair feels like.”

Bonnie swiveled around and reached over the back of the seat. She saw Sean holding a tiny fistful of Amy’s hair in his sticky hand. She reached over and pried open his fist, and Amy jerked her hair away. Then Bonnie smacked the baby twice on his tiny hand and wagged a finger at him. “Bad boy,” she said. “Bad, bad boy.”

Amy looked at her wide-eyed as Sean started to wail.

Bonnie settled back down in her seat and gave a sharp little nod of her head. “I’m a firm believer in discipline,” she said proudly. “You’ve got to teach them the right way to act.”

Maddy did her best to conceal her dismay. She wanted to protest that a baby Sean’s age didn’t know good behavior from bad. She forced herself not to criticize. Everyone had their own way of handling their children. Still, she wondered how Bonnie could stand to listen to the baby’s sobs. It probably was the way she herself was raised, Maddy reflected. Amy was crooning, “It’s all right, Sean,” trying to soothe him and obviously feeling guilty for having gotten him into trouble.

“Almost home,” Maddy said with a forced cheerfulness. As they rounded the corner of their street, Maddy saw the flashing red lights atop a black-and-white police car and heard the squawk of the police radio. Bonnie sat up and looked anxiously out the window.

“What the heck is that?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” said Maddy, instantly fearful. “They’re at our house.”

“What are they doing there?” Bonnie cried.

“It’s probably something about the accident,” Maddy said with a confidence she did not feel. She recognized Charles Henson’s gray Mercedes in the driveway and felt her stomach turn over with anxiety.

“Policeman,” Amy exclaimed as she craned her neck to peer out the window.

M
addy pulled up into the driveway and jumped out of the car. A patrolman was standing by one of the two squad cars.

“What’s going on here?” she asked.

The patrolman shook his head, as if he were unwilling to answer.

Maddy returned to the car and opened the back door, unbuckled Amy’s seat belt, and lifted her out.

“What do they want?” Bonnie demanded, her eyes wide.

Maddy shook her head. “I don’t know. I’m going to find go out.”

She carried Amy toward the front door. Amy huddled against her mother, intimidated by the strange sights and sounds of the police. The weight of the child against her helped to keep Maddy from trembling.

She opened the front door and walked in. Doug was sitting on a chair in the hallway, his head in his hands. She saw Charles Henson in living room, talking to three men. One of them was a detective in uniform, one an officer she recognized in a rumpled suit, and the third was Chief Cameron.