CHAPTER FOUR
Mia
Levi and I have an appointment with my OB/GYN doctor today. We received the news of the testin’ that my blood levels were abnormal and that I’m at risk that our baby may have Down syndrome. Levi and I dismissed the option of terminatin’ the pregnancy.
When we told his parents, they took the news just as I thought they would. They were understandin’ and compassionate. They understand that Levi and I will be wonderful parents to a child with or without disabilities. Levi and I had three miscarriages before this pregnancy and we really want a child. Just because a child has disabilities doesn’t mean we’ll love them any less.
My parents are both deceased and I have no other family members who live nearby. I was an only child and my parents died in an automobile accident shortly after Levi and I got married. I have a few aunts and uncles who live in Texas, but we aren’t close.
We wait in the small waitin’ area of the doctor’s office for the nurse to call our name. I reach into my bag and pull out two identical books. I hand one to Levi and I keep the other one. Everything You Need to Know About Raising a Child with Down Syndrome. I doubt that the book has everything we need to know, but I do think it’ll be helpful.
Levi takes the book and looks over at the book I’m holding. “I thought we could read it together.”
“Good idea.”
The nurse calls me back. She gets my weight and put us in another room where the doctor is already sittin’ and waitin’ for us. This isn’t the normal protocol for this doctor’s office. They usually put us in another room to wait again. “Please have a seat,” he instructs and we do. Once seated he says, “During your last visit, we didn’t have much time to talk. I was hoping to remedy that. I know your decision was to continue with the pregnancy and I just wanted to see if your decision still remained.” I hold up the book Everything You Need to Know About Raising a Child with Down Syndrome. “Very well. Do you have any questions or something you want to know?” he asks.
We tell him our concerns and we also tell him our mind is made up. We won’t be abortin’ this pregnancy. If God wants to take this baby, it’s His will. We won’t willingly abort it because there’s a chance something is wrong. He explains to us the different severity levels of the syndrome and briefly explains what we should expect. They’ll know from the appearance of the baby at birth if it has the syndrome, but they’ll still do testin’ to confirm it. He also tells us his daughter was born with Down syndrome and that her case was severe. He sadly tells us she passed away before her first birthday. Of course, that was years ago and then he and his wife never suspected their child was at risk. He smiles and says, “It wouldn’t have mattered, my wife and I would have still had her.” He says, “It’s better to have loved her for only a short time than not at all.” He also adds that it didn’t stop them from having other children. He nods to the picture on the wall of him, his wife, and their four sons. The sons all look fine with no indication that any of them has Down syndrome. The doctor does say that one problem is who will take care of the child after the parents die, if the child outlives the parents.
Before we leave, Levi and I feel better about this pregnancy than we have since we found out the news. The doctor tells us that my body could still terminate the pregnancy, meaning that I could still have a miscarriage. I know if that happens, it’s God’s way of correcting something that isn’t right. We’ll just pray that doesn’t happen.
Savannah Mae
I drop Sawyer Jackson off at my parents’ house and I head to work for the dinner shift. I work with Mia tonight and I’m excited to see her. We both arrive at the same time and we take our assigned tables and get to work. Dinner is busier than breakfast and lunch, and the tips are considerably higher. We get a rush, and then it dies down before we get another rush. It’s cold and there’s talk that a storm’s comin’ in tonight. Mia and I keep the coffee fresh and alert each other when we sell out of a special.
We both keep up and work well together. Her purse falls over from under the counter and when I pick it up, a book falls from it. Everything You Need to Know About Raising a Child With Down Syndrome. I read the title and freeze. My heart immediately hurts and I get a feelin’ of deep sadness for her and for Levi.
“You taking a break down there?” Mia asks.
I stand up still holdin’ the book. “This fell out of your purse,” I say as I hand her the book.
Her smile fades and she takes the book from me. “I meant to leave that in the car.” She shoves the book deep into her purse and zips it up before replacin’ it back under the counter.
“You need someone to talk to?”
Mia and I have been friends for many years. I understand if she has something personal to deal with, but I want her to know I am here for her. When I found out Ethan was cheatin’ on me, the last thing I wanted to do was go tellin’ everybody my business. Not that this is anything like a cheatin’ husband, but I still want her to know I’m her friend.
“Do you mind if we talk after closin’ time? I don’t really want customers to overhear us.”
“I’m here whenever you need me.” I try to give her my best smile.
“Thank you, Savannah Mae.”
When the last customer leaves and it’s closin’ time, we lock up and do our sidework. We sit down at the booth and begin to roll the silverware into the paper napkins. “You know that test you do in your first trimester to see if you may be at risk of havin’ a baby with Down syndrome?”
“The blood test?”
“That’s the one.”
“I refused to take that test when I was pregnant for Sawyer Jackson.”
“I wish I had. My test came back abnormal.” I can see the tears in her eyes.
“Indicatin’ you’re at risk?”
She nods. “It’s still difficult to talk about.”
My mind drifts back to the church when Pearl was there with her daughter and granddaughter. The granddaughter was functional with her Down syndrome. I know there are different degrees of Down syndrome. Mild to severe. Those who are mild do well, and the most severe cases aren’t so lucky. “When do you get further testin’ done?”
“Soon, probably with my next appointment. I think the doctor is waitin’ to see if my body terminates this pregnancy. Whatever the other tests reveal won’t change anything. Levi and I are excited about the baby and nothin’ will change that. This is our fourth pregnancy; we had three miscarriages previously. I have to believe that everything will be okay, and if it’s not, we’ll do the best we can.”
We continue to roll the silverware as we remain in deep thought. “I’m glad you told me. Does Abel Lee know?”
“He knows. We told him, Bud, and Nelly right after Christmas.”
That was a couple weeks ago. They’ve known for a while and she never came to me. “I wish I knew what to say or do. I know very little about that.”
“I talked to Pearl’s daughter. She was a wealth of information, and their daughter, Jewel, gives us hope for a brighter tomorrow.”
“Let’s go girls, the storm’s a comin’,” Bill the cook yells from the kitchen as he shuts off the kitchen lights.
Mia and I gather the wrapped silverware and place it in the tub. We turn off the lights and leave. We all say our goodbyes and Bill waits for Mia and me to leave before he pulls out behind us.
The snow is comin’ down pretty heavy, so I decide to go to my parents’ house and stay there with Sawyer Jackson. If we get the blizzard people say is comin’ and we lose power, I want to be with them and Samantha Marie. Samantha Marie still lives at home while she attends college.
I park on the street and use my key to let myself into the house. Mom, Samantha Marie, and Daddy are in the kitchen, watchin’ the snow fall from the window.
“There she is,” Daddy says. “Comin’ down pretty good; we were gettin’ worried about you.”
“Work was busy, then the streets started gettin’ slick. How wa
s Sawyer Jackson?”
“Good, he’s in bed with his new toys. He sure does like them.”
I smile and then I remember that I forgot my cell phone at the house. It’s brand-new so I’m not used to carryin’ it and so I walked out of the house without it. If Abel Lee calls, he’ll wonder where I am. If he sees the storm on the television, he’ll probably worry.
“Savannah Mae, you feelin’ okay?” Mom asks.
“I’m all right. I just remembered I left something at home. I was plannin’ on stayin’ here durin’ the storm, but I wonder if I shouldn’t just go home.”
“There ain’t one thing that’s that important for you to be drivin’ around in weather like this. If you still need it tomorrow, I’ll go over and get it for you if it’s safe to drive,” Daddy says and it’s the end of the conversation.
“You’re right.” And he is. I look out the window and the snow is comin’ down in big snowflakes. It’s beautiful to watch from inside the house, but I pray for the safety of those who are drivin’ in it. I hope Mia and the cook, Bill, got home all right. Mia lives close to work, but Bill, he lives in Deavertown. That’s a windin’ road he’ll need to travel on. I’ll pray for him. “I’m headed to bed, good night.”
“Good night, Savannah Mae,” they all say in unison.
Abel Lee
My condo sold and I have an auction company coming in to sell off my furniture. I boxed up my personal items and boxing mementos and had them shipped to Momma and Pops’ house. I’m trying to finish up here so I can return to Rose Farm.
I’ve been attempting to call Savannah Mae, but there’s no answer. Ohio and the East Coast were hit by a terrible snowstorm and it’s being broadcast all over the television. “The Storm of the Decade,” they’re calling it. It’s been over a week since I sent her the cell phone. I called her the first night of the storm and again the next day, but I haven’t been able to reach her or anyone else since then. I wish my family would have been tech savvy. Momma and Pops don’t even have a microwave in their house. It’s possible Mia, Levi, and Savannah Mae don’t even have an email address. If they do, I don’t know about it.
With the murder of Megan Rose still unsolved, and with the anonymous letter I received, I can’t help but worry. I’d like to think everyone is snowed in and without phone service, but the idea of something of the likes of what happened to Megan Rose happening to Savannah Mae creeps into my head.
The storm hit Ohio and is slowly making its way to the Northeast. It’s coming my way. I tried to get a flight out of New York, but all flights into Columbus, Ohio have been canceled. I want to get home and check on my parents, my brother and Mia, and Savannah Mae and Jackson Sawyer. I’m worried, and I don’t like the idea of not knowing what’s going on with any of them.
The news has reported blizzard conditions with sub-zero temperatures. Several deaths have been reported in other counties from the storm. My mind replays the situation I left the farm in. Was there enough food in the house for Momma and Pops? Did I chop enough firewood? With that amount of snow, and with the deeply sloped driveway, they’ll be stranded. I wish I had someone to contact. I could call 911 for a well check, but I know that law enforcement will be busy with more important things. But what’s more important than the well-being of my family? Nothing.
I call 911 and wait for some news. They said they’ll get out as soon as they can to check on Momma and Pops. I wait, I pace, and I stare out the large floor-to-ceiling glass window as the storm is making its way into the city. The snow is falling and is quickly accumulating. With the snowstorm settling in over the city, the people of New York aren’t even fazed. I watch them down below going about their life like any other day. It’ll take more than a snowstorm to stop New Yorkers.
I get a letter with no return address. I sign for it and soon recognize the handwriting. It’s from the same person who wrote me while I was in Rose Farm during the holidays. I debate on opening it or just tossing it in the trash. I decide to open it.
Abel Kennedy,
Consider this a warning.
Not a Fan
Just like the last letter, there’s nothing else written on the note, and on the envelope is nothing but my name and address. I refold the letter and place it back in the envelope. I tap it on the table and try to think about every fight I’ve ever had and won. There are too many to recall all of them in any detail. Nothing and no one stands out in my head.
My phone rings and I rush to answer it. It’s the Sheriff’s department telling me they were unable to make it up the hill to make the well check on my parents. Even on foot, the climb was impossible. I know they tried, but I still don’t feel any better. I can’t fly home, and I certainly can’t drive home in these conditions. I’m stuck until God knows when.
I decide to make a run to the store to get a few must-have items. Coffee, beer, and more coffee and beer… maybe some bread and lunchmeat, but definitely coffee and beer. Standing outside is a woman panhandling. I reach into my wallet to give her some money when I hear a baby cry.
She bounces up and down and the crying stops. I hand her the $20.00 bill and ask, “You got a baby?”
“He’s hungry. I need money to feed him.”
“Are you hungry, too?”
“Yes, sir. I haven’t eaten today.”
I look around and see a small diner a few buildings away. “I’ll be right back with some more money for you.”
“Thank you, sir.”
I walk into the convenience store and buy a couple baby bottles, a can of powdered formula, diapers, and baby wipes, before leaving. I thank God when I see she is still standing outside of the store. “Let’s go eat,” I say.
“No sir. I don’t feel comfortable leaving with you.” She bounces up and down and pats her belly through the thick coat she’s wearing.
I look at her and I understand and appreciate her concern for her and the baby’s safety. I’m a big guy and when women see me walking toward them on the street, they sometimes cross the street or duck into a store until I pass. On many occasions, I’ve slowed down while walking so the woman walking ahead of me doesn’t think I’m trying to catch up with her. I’ve also crossed the street so that a woman going the same way I am doesn’t think that I’m following her.
“I bought some things for your baby. The diner is right up the road. It looks busy enough and I promise not to hurt you. I just wanna talk and buy you something hot to eat.”
“You won’t hurt my baby or me?”
“I give you my word. I just want to buy you something to eat.” I hand her the bag of baby items and give her some more money. “I’m hungry,” I say. “If you want to join me for a sandwich, I’ll be right there in the little restaurant.” I don’t give her time to answer before I turn to leave.
I walk into the well-lit diner and ask for a booth. I order a coffee and stall on ordering my dinner. I hear the bell over the door and I hope she’s decided to join me.
“I need to change the baby. Would you mind watching this for me?” she asks, handing me the sack of things I just bought for the baby.
I smile. “No, I don’t mind at all. Do you want me to order you something to drink?”
“Can I have some hot tea?”
“You can have whatever you want.” I watch as she removes her baby from a baby pouch beneath her winter coat. The baby and she are clean and wearing clean clothing. I’m not sure what I expected, but this wasn’t it. She and her baby are not stereotypes.
She later returns from the bathroom with the baby. I offered to hold him while she fixes his bottle, but she refused my help. I notice she’s very protective of her son, something many homeless drug addicts aren’t. Something doesn’t add up. Maybe she isn’t a homeless drug addict. She feeds him formula and he eats eagerly. We both order salads, cheeseburgers, and French fries for our dinner.
I try to get her to talk to me about her circumstances and she refuses. I talk about myself, Momma, and Pops.
I figure she will get bored and tell me something just to shut me up. I tell her about Savannah Mae and Sawyer Jackson, and the small rural area we live. Rose Farm is enough to bore anyone.
She says, “You don’t talk with a country accent.”
I explain that I left home years ago. I tell her I didn’t want to stay on a farm in the country. “I never liked country life until I went back home. Then I saw what I’ve been missing. Momma makes the best pie of anyone in Southeast Ohio. She even won the “Perry County Best Pie Contest” three years in a row,” I lie, proudly. She never entered that contest, but if she did, she would win it every year, hands down, as long as the contest is based on taste, not on looks.
“Now you sound all kinds of country,” she says, laughing. I noticed her perfectly white, straight teeth.
“You can take the man out of the country, but you can’t take the country out of the man.”
“It sounds like you’re forever country.”
“I guess I am.” I watch her eat and I also watch her baby sleep. “What brings you to the streets of New York?” I say, bluntly.
“Finding my way. I wanted better for myself and look where it got me.”
“You live on the streets?”
“Not yet. I have a small efficiency apartment down the road. I met the man of my wet dreams and he left me as soon as he found out I was pregnant.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” She takes the last bite of her sandwich. “I should have known he was worthless. I don’t know anyone here and I refuse to leave my son with people I don’t know to watch him while I work or find work.” She thinks for a minute and says, “Makes it a little — a lot — hard to work.”
“Why don’t you go back home?”
She looks at her sleeping baby lying beside her on the bench. “Because I’m too proud to admit I’m a failure. “Because I’m too proud to ask for help from people I know. Because I don’t want to hear Dad say, ‘I told you so.’”
We talk some more and we both order chocolate cake for dessert. “If you had unlimited money, what would you do?”
Her eyes get big. “I would get me a small house in my hometown of Leo, Indiana. I would go back to cosmetology school, I can do some hair like no other. You can’t tell now, but my hair used to have highlights and was cut into a cute bob. I used to do my own hair.” She sighs. “I really messed up, didn’t I?”
“I don’t think it’s so bad that you can’t fix it.”
“Really?”
I think for a minute about how I want to approach this. “I’m leaving New York for good in a few days, let me help you.”
“Is this like Pretty Woman where you put me up in a condo?” she says, laughing. Her laugh has no humor. I watch her take a sip of her now warm tea.
“No, not like Pretty Woman. It’ll be a small house in your hometown and you have to promise to go to cosmetology school and cut my hair for free whenever you see me.”
She laughs loudly and I just watch her. When I don’t laugh, she says, “You’re serious?”
“Yes, I want to do this.”
“You must be a drug dealer to have that kind of money. A small house in Indiana will cost you $60,000, maybe more.” She puts her coat on and reaches for her baby.
“No wait, I’m not a drug dealer. I made some money as a boxer and I banked most of it. Please, let me help you and your son.” She reminds me of Savannah Mae with her long blond hair, but I don’t tell her that.
I remove my checkbook from the inside of my coat pocket. “What’s your name?”
“It’s Anna Harris,” she whispers.
I write her a check and place it on the table upside down so she can’t see the amount. I settle up our dinner check and say, “Anna Harris, when you become a cosmetologist, call me. I’ll be expecting a haircut, and I may even want some highlights, too.” I smile. I push the check towards her and add, “Thank you for having dinner with me. I hope to see you, and your son again, soon.” I stand to leave and she doesn’t say a word.
As I walk to buy my coffee and beer, I think about the word “cosmetology,” which is based on the word “cosmos.” All of us know that the cosmos arose out of chaos; many people, including me, believe that God made order out of that chaos. I guess that a cosmetologist also makes order out of chaos. Maybe my check will help make order out of the chaos of her life.
Savannah Mae
It’s been ten days since I’ve been home. The storm has passed and people are finally gettin’ dug out from beneath the blizzard. We lost power at Mom and Daddy’s and I have never been so grateful for the stockpile of food and necessities that Mom insisted on havin’ for such times as these. Sawyer Jackson and I wouldn’t have been able to survive the storm on our own. We lack food and firewood. I make a mental note to get a storm kit made up for us. Water, batteries, candles, and a radio, to name a few items.
Every day that passed I worried about everyone. Mia and Levi, Bud and Nelly, and the people from the church. I wanted to call Abel Lee but wasn’t able to, since I forgot the cell phone at the house. With no electricity, everyone’s cell phone died and they weren’t able to recharge them. Same thing with laptops, for those who have them.
Today is the first day that the temperatures are above zero. Daddy says, “We’re havin’ a heatwave.” I laugh. It’s still bitter cold and it’s hardly a heatwave. I look out the window and I have to squint my eyes from the bright snow and sunshine. Many neighbors are out shovelin’ their cars out from under several feet of snow. It looks like a winter wonderland. You can’t tell where the road ends and the sidewalk begins because it’s just a sheet of snow and ice. Maybe drivers don’t think it’s a winter wonderland.
I check with Samantha Marie to see if she’ll watch Sawyer Jackson for me. If it were warmer, I think Sawyer Jackson would be able to walk home with me. I need to go home and get us some clean clothes and my cell phone. I went a year without a cell phone, but suddenly, I have the need for one. I want to check on the safety of my friends.
I dress warmly and prepare myself for the onslaught of bitterly cold air as soon as I open the door. Daddy is outside, talkin’ to a deputy sheriff. I pray it’s not about Nelly and Bud. They live on top of an impossible hill to go up in bad weather.
I close my eyes and try to breathe through the cold. It burns my face so I wrap my scarf tighter around my mouth and nose. I walk up to Daddy and the deputy, and Daddy says, “I hate to hear that.”
“What’s goin’ on?” I ask.
“Do you remember Larry from the community supper?” Daddy asks.
“Yeah, of course. He always makes Sawyer Jackson something out of balloons.”
“Deputy Miller was just tellin’ me that Larry was found dead yesterday.”
I fall against the snow-covered car. “What happened?” I think for a minute and get another chill that runs through my body. “Omigod, it isn’t related to Megan Rose’s murder, is it?” What if we have a serial killer in town.
“They’re not sure. His neighbor said he went over and tried to get Larry to stay with them durin’ the storm, but he refused to go. He said the house was cold and there was very little food in the house when they found him.”
“When will they know the cause of his death?” I ask.
“In a few days, a month, tops. I was there and there weren’t any signs of foul play,” Deputy Miller says.
I shiver and this time it has nothin’ to do with the cold. “Daddy, why would Larry stay there without heat or food?”
“Some old timers do that. They don’t want to feel like they are a burden to others. It’s the same thing with some homeless people.”
“I’m headin’ up to do a well check on Bud and Nelly,” Deputy Miller says. “Their son called several days ago from New York concerned about them.”
“Abel Lee must have been goin’ crazy, hearin’ about the blizzard but not knowin’ what’s goin’ on here.” I look
from Daddy to Deputy Miller.
“Will you let us know if they’re okay? Their driveway makes it impossible to get up there in these conditions,” Daddy says. “You must be planning to walk up the hill.”
“Sure will, and sure do. Better get goin’ if I want to be back by dark.”
It’s early in the day and Deputy Miller made a joke, but no one laughs.
“Be careful, it looks pretty treacherous, even for someone who is walking,” Daddy says as he begins to brush off the car with a straw broom.
Instead of walkin’ home, I walk back into the house. My stomach hurts at the thought that Larry, a man I know, has died. There was help available, and he refused to take it. Why? You read about the elderly dying durin’ winter months because their heat gets shut off. Never did I imagine that it could happen to someone I know.
Later that day we learn that Nelly and Bud are fine and that they also have a stockpile of food and wood. Deputy Miller said Nelly and Bud were in good spirits. It makes me feel better to learn they are both safe.
Over the next few days, the electricity comes on and the roads begin to clear. The storm has passed and will soon be nothin’ more than a memory. A bad memory. Daddy drives the 4X4 truck into town and gets some necessities and a newspaper. The Zanesville Times Recorder has a front-page article about Larry: “Local Man Found Dead in Deadly Storm.” I read it and cry. It talks about the lack of food and heat in his house. He has no family. I can’t help but wonder what will happen to his body. What will they do with him when no one claims him? What does it cost to bury someone? Funerals are expensive. Abel Lee would have the answers; he would know about these things and what we should do. We could take up a collection, but people in these parts don’t have money like that. They’re lucky enough to have money for their own needs.
“Daddy, would you take Sawyer Jackson and me home?”
“As soon as you’re ready, we can leave.”
I gather the few items we have there and head home. Daddy comes into the house and starts a fire in the fireplace while I clean out the refrigerator. The little bit of food we had spoiled while we were gone.
Daddy leaves and goes to the store for me to get some much-needed items. Milk, bread, butter, and some other things. Sawyer Jackson takes a bath, and I check my cell phone. I cringe when I listen to the voicemails and read the texts from Abel Lee. I knew he would be worried, but I had no idea he would be this worried. I try to call him and it goes right to voicemail. I leave a message to let him know we’re fine. I also leave a text message to let him know the sheriff’s department has checked on his parents and they are also fine.
I look through the stack of mail that has accumulated over the past week. Bills, junk mail, and a postcard from Florida from a good friend of mine, Brea. The postcard is a divided picture. On one side is a girl on a sunny beach and Brea wrote, “This is me.” And on the other side of the card is a wintry blizzard and Brea wrote, “This is you.” I laugh out loud before turning it over to read it.
Hey, Mae,
The blizzard has been all over the Weather Channel. Hope you and Sawyer Jackson are safe. I couldn’t resist sending you this postcard. Let me know when you’re ready for a visit. I have a spare room reserved just for you.
Love you bunches,
Brea
I went to school with Brea and she is the only person to ever call me by my middle name. I miss her terribly. Oh, how I wish I could visit her in Florida. Sunny beaches and warm weather would be perfect right about now.
I open another letter with no return address. Looks like a card, probably a birthday party invitation.
Savannah,
He’ll hurt you, too.
Confused, I read the card again. The hair on my arms stand and I get goosebumps. Not the good kind I get when Abel Lee is near me. I flip the card over and nothing else is written. This feels like a warning, but about what? From whom? It’s the same writing that was on the last note I got like this.
Heather Sue will stop at nothin’. She stole my husband and she can’t stand the thought that I’m able to move on with my life. I toss the note in the trash and forget all about it. It’s gotta be from Heather Sue, who else could it be from?
The house was cold and took awhile to warm up. When dinner is in the oven and Sawyer Jackson and I both had our baths, we sit down and play Go Fish. It’s a simple game and one of his favorites.
I hear a vehicle comin’ down the road, crunchin’ through the frozen snow still coverin’ the roads. Finally, the small community is comin’ back to life. I raise up slightly from the floor and see Johnny’s mom drivin’ slowly past the house.
After dinner and a bedtime story, “Snoopy the Sheep” by Helga Moser, I put Sawyer Jackson to bed. While sittin’ on the couch, I check my cell phone for a message from Abel Lee; sadly there isn’t anything from him. I wonder if he’s mad, or maybe he’s out of service, too. Now it’s my turn to worry. I don’t have cable or a satellite, so I have no idea if he was also affected by the storm. The snow stopped, but it’s still blizzard conditions. It’s too bad and still too cold to leave the house. There’s no way for me to find out about Abel Lee.
Abel Lee
The sheriff’s department called me and told me they were able to check on my parents and they were both fine. What an enormous relief. I wanted to ask about Savannah Mae and Sawyer Jackson, but I didn’t. I know the sheriff’s department is busy without running around doing well checks for everyone.
I load up some of my personal items and drive to Ohio. I think about the letter I got in the mail. Who would know my whereabouts in Rose Farm and in New York? Who would have a vendetta against me? A fighter? An ex-girlfriend? Savannah Mae’s ex? Megan Rose’s killer? I honestly have no idea. And what kind of threat are they making? It would be foolhardy to think I can be easily beaten in a fight.
I can’t get home fast enough. I never thought I would ever say those words. It’s bitter cold, and although I’ve been watching the news, I still wasn’t prepared for it.
My mind races with thoughts of Levi, Mia, and the baby, Momma and Pops, and Savannah Mae and Sawyer Jackson. It also races with thoughts of the people from the church. I wonder if the entire Rose Farm community is struggling to keep warm and have food.
I wonder what the best way would be to help everyone. Wouldn’t some kind of a job to employ people be a better way to assist them? What kind of a business would be beneficial for that area? I have money, but not many people like handouts. I’m sure some people would love nothing more than a free ride, but I also know it’s a sure way to offend many men and women. I think back on the time I left Savannah Mae a $100.00 tip. I thought she was going to rip my head off. I don’t want to suffer that kind of wrath again. Think, Abel, think.
Before I get into town, I stop by the grocery store and make a small purchase. The shelves are almost bare, and I learn that delivery trucks are having a hard time making their deliveries. I also leave extra money to cover arrears for the customers with the owners. I’m not surprised to learn the account I set up earlier is in the negative. At the checkout, I pick up a copy of the Zanesville Times Recorder newspaper. I skim the article and learn that starvation may have had something to do with Larry’s death. Pain seizes my heart and I know I have to do something.
As soon as I pull into town, Levi and Mia’s house is my first stop. I’m relieved to see they are both safe, snowed in, but still safe. I see a book on the coffee table: Everything You Need to Know About Raising a Child with Down Syndrome. I don’t ask about it and I don’t mention it. They don’t need to be reminded. If something new happens, I’m sure they’ll tell me.
“How’s Junior?” I ask.
“She’s wonderful,” Levi says as he pats Mia’s small baby bump.
“It’s a girl?” I ask excitedly.
“We don’t know for sure,” Mia says, “But she sure is growing.”
I visit briefly and Levi helps me carry in some groceries bef
ore I leave.
“Did you hear about Larry?” I ask Levi.
“I did. Can you believe it?”
“Is it true that he possibly starved to death?” I ask as I get the last of the groceries for them from the backseat of the truck.
“I think so, yes. Well, that and a combination of freezin’ to death, but I haven’t heard firsthand the details of his death, just what the paper is reportin’.”
“That’s so hard to believe. Is there any news on Megan Rose’s killer?”
“No, nothin’. The killer’s still at large.” Levi and I stop talking as soon as we walk into his house. There’s no need to upset Mia with this kind of talk. Once everything is put away, I say my goodbyes and leave.
I need to see Momma and Pops, but I stop by Savannah Mae’s first. I’m grateful when I see the lights on in her house. I wasn’t sure if she would even be home with the storm. I decide to get some groceries out of the truck before I knock on her door.
The door opens before I have a chance to knock. “Abel Lee, you can’t answer your phone?” she greets me. Savannah Mae can be quite sassy, and I secretly admit, I think I like it. She isn’t like the girl’s I’ve dated in the past.
I try to hold back a chuckle. I’ve been so worried about her, but as soon as she opens her sassy mouth, I realize I had nothing to worry about. “I’m sorry. Did I miss a phone call or two from you?” I walk through the door and I walk past her en route to the kitchen.
She follows behind me. “Yes, you did. I’ve been worried about you.”
I can only laugh. “I turned off my cell phone while driving. The road conditions weren’t the greatest to drive in. Do you really want to talk about missed calls and text messages?”
She giggles, “No, I guess not.”
I set the groceries on the counter and look at her. “I’m glad to see you’re all right.” I walk past her and head to Sawyer Jackson’s bedroom. I poke my head in and I’m happy to see he’s warm and sound asleep. Walking back to the kitchen, Savannah Mae is watching me. “I’ve been calling you for a week,” I say when I get closer to her. I stand in front of her looking into her blue eyes. She is just as beautiful as I remember. I touch her soft cheek and lean down to kiss her before she can say anything. She stands on her tiptoes and welcomes my kiss. “I missed you,” I mumble between kisses.
She moans and after the kiss she says, “I missed you, too.”
“You both are safe.” I kiss her, again.
She says between kisses, “We are.”
“I’m glad I was worried for nothing.” I kiss her again and touch her soft cheek with the pad of my thumb.
I begin to remove the groceries from the brown paper bag and she says, “I went to work one night and left the phone at home.”
“That was the night of the storm?” I ask.
“It was. The snow was comin’ down pretty hard, so Sawyer Jackson and I stayed at my parents’ house. We actually just got home today.” She opens the refrigerator and puts the cold food away. “Wait? Why am I puttin’ this food away?”
I laugh as I open the cabinets and place some canned vegetables and soup on the middle shelf. “Because I bought you and Sawyer Jackson some food.”
“Daddy just bought us some today.”
“That’s okay, I’m sure it won’t go to waste.”
That’s all that she said about the food I bought. I was expecting more sass from her, but I’m glad it didn’t come. I have a need to take care of her and her son, and I’m not sure why. She tells me about the blizzard, losing power, being snowed in for over a week, and hearing about Larry’s death. Then I realize why my buying her food isn’t an issue. She shows me the newspaper article about Larry’s death and I sit down to read it while she makes us some tea. I haven’t had time to do more than scan the newspaper I bought at Campbell’s.
She asks me, “Why wouldn’t he have accepted the help that was offered to him?”
“I don’t have that answer, Savannah Mae. I wish I did. The only thing we can do is give him the memorial that he deserves.” I take a drink of my herbal tea. “We’ll talk with others to see if they know what his wishes were. Maybe his neighbors or friends would know what he wanted.” She sits beside me and I can tell this worries her. “This is just a preliminary article; as law enforcement officials get more details, the newspaper will update the story. We’ll know more in the next few days.”
We talk for a few minutes and I finish my tea before I ask, “Can I leave my truck parked here? I need to run up and check on Momma and Pops.”
“Sure. Other than the deputy, I don’t think anyone’s been up there,” she says.
“I doubt it. I appreciate them making the climb up the hill to check on them. I know it wasn’t easy.
She laughs, “Daddy said the deputy looked like a polar bear comin’ off the hill.”
“I’m sure he was covered in snow. It looks like you got a few feet of snow.”
”We did. It snowed for a week straight. You got warmer clothes with you?” she asks.
“No, I wish I did.’
“Hold on. I think I have some coveralls that’ll fit you.”
I change into the coveralls she offers me. I don’t ask, but I’m pretty sure they belong to her ex-husband, Ethan. “Are you going to be up later?” I ask as I slip my feet into my boots.
“You comin’ back?”
“I was thinking I would if you’re still going to be up.”
“If you’re comin’ back, I’ll still be up.”
I kiss her goodbye and make the climb up the steep driveway to see my parents. Before I see the light on in the barn, I see smoke roaring out of the chimney. It’s bitter cold and I know they are going through an excessive amount of firewood trying to keep the house warm. Even with a coal furnace, it’ll take extra heat to warm this old house. The house is dark with just a faint flicker of light coming from the kitchen and living room.
Making the climb up the snowy driveway was more difficult than I expected. Carrying four plastic sacks of groceries didn’t help. Momma and Pops don’t know I’m coming and I don’t want to startle them. I fear what I’ll walk into. My worst fear is that they’ll be huddled together trying to stay warm, or they’ll be hungry, or both. The article about Larry’s death has brought a real problem to light for all of us.
When I get to the front porch, I’m surprised when I hear laughter coming from the kitchen. I knock on the door before walking into the house. Momma and Pops are sitting at the kitchen table with a candle lit in the center. The room is warm, and they look happy. Nothing like the image I had in my head. It’s 9:00 p.m. and I thought maybe they would be in bed for the night. “Am I interrupting?” I ask jokingly, but it really isn’t a joke. I’m amazed and thrilled at how well my parents get along, and how well they both look.
“Well, there he is,” Momma says, standing up from the table. Pops also stands up.
I put the groceries and milk on the table and bend over to hug Momma. Lights come on in the kitchen, lighting up the entire room. Why were they sitting in the dark? Do I dare ask?
“I was so worried about you,” Momma says.
“I’m fine, no need to worry about me. How are you both doing? From the looks of it, you’re both doing great.” I hug Pops next and Momma sits back down at the table blowing out the candle.
“We’re good. Nelly made some peach cobbler, do you want some?” I look at the table and I see two plates with crumbs on them and two coffee mugs. I laugh on the inside. There’s a blizzard and Momma makes peach cobbler. I know the heat from the oven will help warm the house, so I imagine that while they had electricity, Momma did a lot of baking and cooking.
“I do. I brought you some groceries. I thought you might be running low.” Picking up the sacks of groceries, I set them down on the kitchen counter. Momma, Pops, and I put everything away before Momma scoops me out a hefty portion of peach cobbler. To my surprise, it’s still warm.
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We sit down and I tell them I stopped in and saw Mia and Levi on my way into town. They are relieved to hear they are both all right. Momma explains that the electric just came back on last night. They also ask about Savannah Mae and Sawyer Jackson. Pops opens up the newspaper I bought and he looks shocked when he reads the headlines. He reads the article about Larry aloud to Momma and me. I wish I had mentioned Larry to them before Pops opened the newspaper. It may have softened the blow of his death, but then on second thought, I don’t think anything would have softened the blow. It’s shocking and devastating, no matter how you hear about it.
We talk about Larry, the snowstorm, and the stockpile of food and wood my parents have in the basement, and in the barn.
“What kinds of food are you storing in the basement?” I ask.
“What kind of food you lookin’ for? We have a freezer full of meat from the animals we slaughter. The garden was pretty good to us this year, don’t cha think, Nelly?”
“Oh yes, mighty good. Don’t forget about the peach tree and the walnut tree.”
I should have known that they would have plenty of food. After all, they live on a farm. That’s their job — raising food. I’ve been away a long time to forget that. I find it amusing that I didn’t consider that my parents would have been prepared for such a situation. They aren’t new to this, and this isn’t their first winter on the farm. Seeing how well they get along and how well prepared they are, I have to wonder if they don’t prefer being snowed in together.
Savannah Mae
I don’t have the words to describe how excited I was to see Abel Lee standin’ at my front door. I didn’t want him to know, so I gave him a sassy attitude about not answerin’ his cell phone. I’m afraid if he knew the feelin’s I had about him, that might scare him off.
I check on Sawyer Jackson and leave his bedroom door open so more heat can flow into his room. These old houses get cold quickly. I lie on the couch and cover myself up with one of my grannie’s homemade quilts. I’m reading Beyond Secrets by DB Jones when the knock at the door scares me. I jerk so much that I drop the book and kick my legs up off the couch from terror. I hear laughter and I know Abel Lee was watching me through the window in the door.
I stand and straighten my clothes before answerin’ the door.
“Did I scare you?” he greets me walking into the house after he stomps the snow off of his boots.
“No, not at all,” I lie.
He stops and looks at me. “Are you sure? Because it looked like you were scared the way you jumped off of the couch in a hurry.” He smiles and I can see the single dimple that I’ve missed so much. “I wasn’t spying, but I could see you through the sheer curtains hanging over the window in the door.”
“I’m sure.” I watch as he walks over and picks up the book I dropped out of fear. I close the door and lock it. These days, I always lock the door. I make a mental note to replace the sheer curtain with something thicker and heavier. I never once thought about killers or peepin’ Toms until very recently. I might have thought of Peepin’ Abels, but I don’t think he’s a peeper.
“I think you dropped this,” he teases as he hands me the book.
“Thank you,” I take the book and set it on the coffee table. I look at him and then his mouth. Oh, that mouth. I quickly look away. He removes his boots, hat, gloves, winter coat, and the overalls I gave him to wear. I almost wish he wouldn’t stop there.
“How are your parents doin’?” I sit on the couch and pat the seat next to me to indicate that he should sit down.
“They’re doing better than expected. In fact, I almost felt like I was intruding on them.” He walks over and takes a seat next to me.
“Intrudin’ on what?” I ask, coverin’ myself with the quilt. Abel Lee looks at the small flame burnin’ in the fireplace before he stands to add another log.
“Like I was intruding on… I don’t know, on their alone time or something.” He watches me and comes back and sits down beside me.
“Alone time?” I ask. “They’ve been stranded up there for almost two weeks. Are you sure?”
He laughs and says, “Yeah. They were sitting at the table in the dark having peach cobbler and coffee, laughing like they were on a date. The peach cobbler was still warm.”
Smiling, I say, “I think it’s good they get along so well.” When we get quiet, I ask, “Are you hungry?”
“No, I’m okay. I think maybe it’s too late for me to be here. Maybe I should leave.”
“Do you want to watch a movie with me? I can make us some popcorn if you’d like.”
“You don’t want to be alone? It’s getting kind of late.”
“Not really.” I look at him and then I see the book on the coffee table. “I was readin’ that book earlier and it was kind of scary.”
He smiles and leans up and turns the book over. “No popcorn but a movie sounds good.”
I jump up, euphoric that he’s stayin’ awhile longer. “What do you want to watch?” I hold up several DVDs for him to choose from.
He laughs. “I don’t want to watch Pretty Woman.” I take Pretty Woman away and lay it on the floor.
I say, “I don’t want to watch Tombstone.” I remove it and lay it on the floor on top of Pretty Woman. “Your turn.”
He smiles, “I really don’t want to watch Toy Story.”
“Are you sure? You bought this for Sawyer Jackson and it’s now our favorite movie.”
“I’m sure that you’ll get tired of seeing it before Sawyer Jackson does so there’s no need for you to watch it now. Put it on the floor with the other do-not-watch films.”
“Okay, your loss,” I tease as I place Toy Story on the floor. “Two movies left,” I say, waving the DVD’s in front of me. “Which one will it be?” One movie is behind the other and he can see only the top movie.
We both laugh. He begins to speak, and I interrupt, “Nope, it’s my turn to pick.”
“Fair enough, as long as you don’t choose Pitch Perfect to watch,” he says, pointing to the DVD that he can see.
“I do not want to watch Pitch Perfect,” I laugh loudly and place Pitch Perfect on the floor with the other movies. I wave the final movie — Pitch Perfect 2 — in the air and sing, “We’re watching this one; we’re watching this one.”
I put the movie in and Abel Lee and I lie on the couch, watchin’ the show. I laugh and he kisses the top of my head. After awhile he becomes silent, and I don’t think he’s watchin’ the movie at all. By the time the movie is almost over, I believe Abel Lee may have fallen asleep. I slowly get up from the couch, and he doesn’t move. Lookin’ around the room, I decide to cover him up and let him sleep here. I gently kiss him goodnight before turnin’ the television off, and goin’ to bed.