Sophie's Last Stand

Darlene, all sweetness and light, made a big fuss, handing us coffee, spooning three teaspoons of sugar into Ma’s cup and stirring it for her, then clucking like a satisfied hen over her brood of chaotic family members. It was disgusting. I sat there for thirty minutes and answered questions, at least half of them about how a daughter could disrespect her family by not coming to them personally and presenting the information firsthand, preferably as the events were actually occurring.

The phone rang three times while I was under interrogation, and each time when I picked it up and said “Hello?” the person on the other end hung up.

“Probably someone else’s old number,” I explained, but of course, I didn’t believe that for a second. If Nick could find me in New Bern, he could get my unlisted, private number, too.

Darlene had to throw gasoline on the fire. “Tell them about the cute cop,” she said. Of course, Darlene had already given them her version, probably leaving it that we were “fated” to become man and wife.

I looked at Ma. “The detective in charge is very efficient,” I said.

“Stunade!” Ma barked. “Darlene says you know him.”

Darlene was going to die. I was going to enjoy killing her. It would be a long, slow death, accompanied by many pleas for mercy on her part.

“No, Darlene imagines that I know him,” I said. “I have only seen him one other time, from a distance, and that was a thirty-second encounter.” I was shooting daggers at Darlene with my eyes, daring her to dispute this.

“What? You would lie to your mother?” Whap! The hand was upside my head.

“Ma, don’t do that! I’m telling you the God’s honest truth.”

The sound of the back porch door opening saved me from further mayhem. Joe stepped into the kitchen, looked at us all sitting there, and said, “I brought coffee cake.”

“What?” Ma said, “Did you buy that? How much did you pay for it? I got that at home. I make that better. Why you buy that?”

Joe was unflappable. “Ma, Angela made it.”

Ma’s expression said it all. Despite her name, Angela was not Italian. Ma shrugged, resigned to eating inferior food, and gestured to the center of the table. Then she slapped my hand when I reached for it. “What is wrong with you? Get the plates!”

My entire morning continued this way. I excused myself, took a shower and returned, but they were still at it. The conversation now turned to what they should do to protect me, and this without me even mentioning Nick. I drank another cup of strong coffee, rolled my eyes at Joe and went to check the mailbox.

The note was folded up and stuffed into a plain white envelope, typed on computer paper, and generic in all respects except for what was written on it. “She didn’t cooperate, but you will, won’t you? You have what we want. We’ll be in touch.”

Joe came up behind me, took the note from my hand and read. “It’s probably just some local crackpot looking to scare you,” he said. “I’ll call Gray.”

“No. I’ll call him later, when they’re gone. That’s all I need, Ma whacking Gray upside the head because he didn’t prevent this, or Darlene batting her eyes at him and asking stupid questions.”

“I’ll handle it,” Joe said.

“No, Joe, let me do this.”

Joey looked into my face, into my eyes, and then pulled me to him, holding me tight against his shoulder. “You know, Soph, I’ve known you all your life. You won’t call him.” He reached up and stroked my hair. “You won’t call on account of you’re embarrassed. You don’t want to be any trouble. Worst of all, you don’t want to make this real.”

I pushed back and looked up at him. “Joe, Nick’s out. He got early release.”

Joe sucked his breath in through his teeth. In the background I could hear Darlene chattering on about nothing with Ma and Pa. “I thought they were supposed to let you know?” Joe said. “I thought you got a say in that?”

“I didn’t leave a forwarding address when I left,” I said. “I didn’t think.”

Joe tried to smile. “Well, good then. He can’t find you.”

But I was already shaking my head. “He already has, Joe. The police found his Mercedes around the corner yesterday. They were checking plates, thinking they might find out about the girl in the backyard.”

“I’ll kill the son of a bitch,” Joe said, his voice pitched low so Ma and Pa wouldn’t hear him.

“No, Joe. Look, Nick is a twisted little man who thinks he can frighten me. He’s mad because he ruined his life and he wants to make that my fault. He’ll get over it.” I looked at Joe like I believed my own propaganda. “After all, what’s a sawed-off little accountant going to do to me? I’ll cut his balls off and hand them back to him before he knows what hit him.”

Joe was shaking his head again. “Look, I don’t doubt your intentions, but I don’t think we should underestimate Nick, either. He blew up your car. Hell, he probably killed that woman and put her in your backyard to scare you. He’s a nutcase, Sophie, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t dangerous. I’m calling Gray.”

He brushed past me, stepping out onto the front porch and flipping open his cell phone.

“And I moved here to take control of my life,” I muttered.

“You cannot twist fate to suit your needs,” Darlene said. I jumped, wondering how long she’d been listening to Joe and me.

“Put a sock in it, Darlene,” I said, and pushed past her back into the house.

Ma was talking to Pa in Italian, so fast and low that I had trouble following anything she said, but she made it easy on me by switching to English as I entered the room.

“You are coming home with us,” she said. Her arms were folded across her chubby middle and her expression said that the matter was not open for discussion.

“Ma, I am fine. I’m not leaving. The insurance company is sending out someone today and I need to be here. Joe’ll take me to get a rental car later and I’ll be good to go.”

“You are living in the presence of death,” Ma said.

“No, they carted the body off yesterday. Death has departed.” I gave the look right back to her, strong, like I wasn’t moving an inch.

“I’ll check in on her,” Pa said, but only because he hadn’t heard about Nick yet. They’d be on me once that piece of news leaked out.

“Joe’s gonna check on me, too, Ma.” I wasn’t going to lie and tell them the car thing was due to spontaneous combustion, but I wasn’t going to tell the entire story, either. This might be called a sin of omission, but better that than moving in with my parents.

Joe walked in, saying, “That’s true, I’ll be right here. Besides, I’m only five minutes away if I do go home. Don’t worry.” He put his hand on Ma’s shoulder. “Ain’t nothin’ gonna happen to Sophie. Capishe?”

He was looking over the top of Ma’s head at me, then toward the front door, nodding his head imperceptibly in that direction.

“Ma, you guys should go back home and Darlene should go on to work. Sophie’s a big girl. She’s fine. I’m looking out for her. Ma, why don’t you make the braciola, eh? I’m coming for dinner. I’ll bring Angela and the kids. Sophie, you’re coming, too, right?”

I took the hint. “Yeah, yeah. Ma, there’s no decent food here. Look, all I have is a microwave. The stove isn’t even hooked up yet. What kind of life is that?”

Ma sniffed. “That is why a good daughter stays in her parents’ home.”

“Ma, I did that already. Then I got married. I moved out on my own ten years ago. It’s too late for moving home again.”

The hand, quicker than the eye, whacked me hard. “Stunade! It is never too late to respect your mother,” she said.

“Dinner, Ma. I’ll be there for dinner.”

“Good morning!”

We all turned. Gray Evans stood in the doorway. He was giving Ma the smile, the one that had melted my heart just yesterday, the smile I was trying to avoid thinking about.