“Of course I will, honey. You know I will.”
“You’re so good to me, Carl. You always have been.”
“Aw, honey, I love you. You know I do.”
“I know, Carl. I want you to come to me. Please. Now.”
“But-” He pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it. Was this a dream or a hallucination? “But what about Frank?”
“Frank is gone, Carl. Gone forever. He’s out of my life.”
“Are-are you sure, honey?”
“I’m sure. That was such a mistake. I don’t know what came over me. But I know this: I want to start doing things right. Starting today. Starting with you.”
“I do too, baby. I do too.”
“And-oh, there’s so much more I want to tell you. To show you. I’ll-well, I’ll let it be my Christmas surprise.”
“I love surprises, baby. Especially from you.”
“Please come to me, Carl. Come now.”
Carl’s hand began trembling. “I–I’ll be right over, sweetheart. Where are you?”
“I’m at home. Don’t ring the bell; I don’t want Tommy to know that we’re together again yet. Let it be his Christmas surprise. He’ll be so happy.”
“Whatever you want, Bonnie.”
“Just come to the house and wait outside. When I see you, I’ll come out to meet you.”
“I’ll be there, Bonnie. I’m leaving right now.”
“Please do, Carl. I can’t wait to be with you. I can’t wait to hold you in my arms, to feel you pressing up against me-”
“I’m coming, Bonnie. I’m coming right now.”
“And Carl?”
He jerked his head back to the receiver. “Yes, baby?”
“I love you, Carl. I–I always did, you know.”
The line disconnected. Carl suddenly realized his face was bathed in tears. He was blubbering like a baby. Everyone in the bar was staring at him-and he didn’t care. He just didn’t care.
It would take him ten minutes to get back to the alley where he’d ditched the pickup. Maybe less if he ran. After that, it wouldn’t take him fifteen minutes to get to Bonnie’s house.
To their house.
He tossed the contents of his wallet down on the counter, wiped his eyes, and raced out the door. The bracing wind gripped him, shook him, roused him, cleared his head.
This was really happening, he told himself. Really, really happening. He was coming home.
He was part of a family again. On Christmas Eve.
Bonnie stretched across the sofa and punched the button disconnecting the speakerphone. “How did I do?”
Frank sat at the end of the sofa, her feet in his lap. “You were brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.” He bent down and kissed her big toe. “Do you think he’ll come?”
She laughed. “I know he’ll come.” She readjusted the pillow under her head. “Idiot.”
“Good. And all will go as planned?”
“Are you kidding? The stage is set. After that scene you provoked this morning, after the fool tried to kidnap Tommy-hell, by now the police must assume he tried to poison the kid. They’re scouring the city for him, and I’ve got a restraining order in my pocket-which the chump is about to violate. Everything is set up perfectly.”
“I’m so glad.” Frank wriggled the top of her foot into his mouth and nibbled on the tips of her toes.
“Will you be ready?” Bonnie asked pointedly.
“Oh, yes. Oh, yes.” He lowered her feet gently to the sofa, then reached across the end table to his black tote bag. Carefully he removed the sturdy wooden box inside, opened it, and took out the shiny silver pistol resting inside.
He checked to make sure it was loaded. “Very ready.”
Bonnie stretched out, her face settling into a happy smile. “That’s good,” she said, curling up like a kitten on the overstuffed cushions. “After all, I did promise the man a Christmas surprise.” She began to laugh. “And boy, is he ever going to get one.”
13
Carl was practically driving on autopilot as he made his way to Bonnie’s house. The sky could’ve fallen down around him; he would never have noticed. All he could hear, all he could think about were those last tender words, the words that kept ringing in his ears and wouldn’t stop: “I love you, Carl. I always did.”
He had known she loved him, he thought as he zipped by the state capitol on Lincoln Boulevard. He’d known it. Deep down, she couldn’t have meant all those horrible accusations. It was just a brain fever or something, just an aberration. Now they would get back to how things were supposed to be.
He swerved around the corner of Fifteenth Street, almost lifting the pickup onto two wheels. He wasn’t driving well, he knew that. He’d had too much to drink. Couldn’t see straight and wasn’t thinking clearly, either. But what could he do?
He had to get there. He had to get there. He had to get there.
The words rushed back to him, blocking out all distractions, all reason, all rational thought.
“I love you, Carl. I always did.”
Megan had just about decided to call it a day. She unhooked Jasper’s leash and prepared to haul him home for whatever Christmas they could look forward to when the phone rang.
“He’s coming!” the voice on the phone said before Megan had a chance to say hello.
“Bonnie? Is this you?”
“He’s coming! He’s on his way!”
“Carl? Carl is coming?” She wrapped the leash back around her lamp. “Does he know about the restraining order?”
“He doesn’t care. He says he’s coming to take Tommy away. And he says he’ll kill anyone who gets in his way.”
“Call the police, Bonnie.”
“They won’t come-”
“Bonnie, you listen to me!” Megan put on her most authoritative voice. “Hang up the phone and call the police. They will come. You don’t have time to mess around. Call now!”
“All right.”
“I’ll come, too. But you have to call the police. Tommy’s life is in danger. And so is yours!”
Frank brushed his hand around Bonnie’s face, stroking her ears, caressing her chin. “Have I mentioned lately that you’re magnificent?”
“Not as often as you should.” She pushed herself up off the pillows. “I am rather good, though, aren’t I? That little tremor I get in my voice? That broken, halting quality.”
“Positively brilliant. So what are we going to do now?”
Bonnie slipped her hands playfully under his shirt. She stroked his chest. “Like the woman said. I’m going to call the police.”
Carl knew he was taking the curve off Fifteenth Street too fast, but he couldn’t help himself-he wanted to be there so badly! The tires screeched; he left a lot of rubber on the pavement. He swerved to one side and careened into the curb. He whipped the steering wheel around, trying to jackknife the truck back onto the street, but he was too slow. His truck plowed into the corner stop sign before he had even seen it.
He hit the brake and the pickup ground to a halt. Holy mother of-
He checked himself, making sure he was still intact, making sure he hadn’t done any additional damage to himself. Everything seemed to still be attached. Still here. Still alive-
The pickup, however, was trashed. Smoke was rising out of the hood.
Never mind. He didn’t have time for that. He didn’t have time for anything except Bonnie. Bonnie and Tommy. Bonnie and Tommy and Carl, together again.
He popped open the glove box and removed the small service revolver he still had after all these years. Surely he wouldn’t need it, not after everything Bonnie had said. But he wasn’t taking any chances. Not anymore.
He slid out of the pickup cab, landed on his feet. His neck ached. But it didn’t matter. Just didn’t matter.
He could walk from here. Or run. It was barely half a block. He jogged down the side of the street, leaving the wreck behind, ignoring the pain in his neck, his back, his arm. He had to get to her. Had to get there now.
As he approached, a neighbor stepped out of the house next door. Was it the same man he had flattened this morning? Carl wondered. He couldn’t remember. A neighbor was a neighbor, right?