Tangled Up in You

Meg took such a long time to answer, Maddie thought she might refuse. “I guess that would be okay. As long as I get to stop if I feel uncomfortable.”

“That’s perfectly fine.” Maddie rose from the chair and walked to her desk. She popped a new cassette into the tiny recorder, grabbed a folder and pen, then returned to the living room. “You don’t have to say anything you don’t feel like saying,” she said, although it was her job to get Meg to spill it all. Maddie held the recorder in front of her mouth, gave Meg’s name and the date, then set it on the edge of the coffee table.

Meg looked at the tape recorder and asked, “Where do I begin?”

“If you feel comfortable, why don’t you talk about what you recall of your parents?” Maddie sat back in her chair and rested her hands lightly on her lap. Patient and nonthreatening. “You know, the good times.” And after Meg talked about those, they would get to the bad.

“I’m sure you heard that my parents fought.”

“Yes.”

“They didn’t fight all the time, it was just that when they did…” She paused and looked down at her skirt. “My grandmother used to say that they were passionate. That they fought and loved with more passion than other people.”

“Do you believe that?”

A wrinkle furrowed her brow and she clasped her hands in her lap. “I just know that my dad was…bigger than life. He was always happy. Always singing little songs. Everyone loved him because he just had a way about him.” She looked up and her green eyes met Maddie’s. “My mother stayed at home with Mick and me.”

“Was your mother happy?”

“She…she was sad sometimes, but that doesn’t mean she was a bad mother,” Meg said and proceeded to talk about wonderful picnics and birth day parties. Big family gatherings and Rose reading bedtime stories that made the family sound like one big Hallmark card of happiness.

Bullshit. After about thirty minutes of listening to Meg cherry-pick her stories, Maddie asked, “What happened when your mother was sad?”

Meg sat back and folded her arms across her chest. “Well, it’s no secret that things got broken. I’m sure Sheriff Potter told you about the time my mother set my father’s clothes on fire.”

Actually, the sheriff hadn’t mentioned it. “Mmm.”

“She had the fire under control. There was no need for the neighbors to call the fire department.”

“Perhaps they were concerned because this area is a forest and it doesn’t take much to start it on fire.”

Meg shrugged. “It was May. So it wasn’t likely. The fire season isn’t until later.”

Which didn’t mean the fire wouldn’t have caused serious damage, but Maddie figured it was pointless and counterproductive to argue, and time to move things along. “What do you recall of the night your parents died?”

Meg looked across the room at the empty television screen. “I remember that it had been hot that day and Mom took Mick and me to the public beach to swim. My dad usually went with us, but he didn’t that day.”

“Do you know why?”

“No. I suspect he was with the waitress.”

Maddie didn’t bother reminding her that the waitress had a name. “After you went to the public beach what happened?”

“We went home and had dinner. Dad wasn’t home, but that wasn’t unusual. I’m sure he was at work. I remember we had ‘whatever night,’ meaning we could have whatever we wanted for dinner. Mick had hot dogs and I had pizza. Later we ate ice cream and watched Donny & Marie. I remember what we watched because Mick was really mad that he had to watch Donny and Marie Osmond. But later he got to watch The Incredible Hulk, so he cheered up. My mom put us to bed, but sometime around midnight, I woke up because I heard her crying. I got out of bed and went into her room, and she was sitting on the side of her bed and she had all her clothes on.”

“Why was she crying?” Maddie leaned forward.

Meg turned to Maddie and said, “Because my father was having another affair.”

“Did she tell you that?”

“Of course not, but I was ten years old. I knew about the affairs.” Meg’s gaze narrowed. “Daddy wouldn’t have left us for her. I know he wouldn’t have really done that.”

“Alice thought he was going to.”

“They all thought that.” Meg laughed without humor. “Ask them. Ask Anna Van Damme, Joan Campbell, Katherine Howard, and Jewel Finley. They all thought he was going to leave my mother for them, but he never did. He never left her and he wouldn’t have left her for the waitress either.”

“Alice Jones.” Maddie had almost felt sorry for Meg, rattling off the names of her father’s lovers.

“Yes.”

“Jewel Finley? Wasn’t she friends with your mother?”

“Yeah,” Meg scoffed. “Some friend.”

“Did something happen that day out of the ordinary?”

“I don’t think so.”

Maddie put her forearms on her knees, leaned forward, and looked into Meg’s eyes. “Usually when you see an otherwise sane woman kill her husband and then herself, there is something that has added stress to the relationship. Usually it’s the belief that the person feeling the most stress feels powerless, like she’s losing everything and therefore she has nothing else to lose. If it wasn’t your father’s infidelity, then it had to be something else.”

“Maybe she just planned to frighten them with the gun. Maybe she wanted to scare them and things got carried away.”

That was usually the excuse, but rarely the case. “Is that what you believe?”

“Yes. Maybe she found them naked together.”

“They were both clothed. Alice was behind the bar and your father was in front of it. They were at least ten feet apart.”

“Oh.” She bit her thumbnail. “I still think she went there to scare Dad and things got out of control.”

“You think that, but you don’t know.”

Meg dropped her hand and stood. “My mother loved my father. I just don’t think she went there with the intention of killing anyone.” She put her purse over her shoulder. “I’ve got to get home.”

Maddie stood. “Well, thanks for your help,” she said and walked Meg to the door. “I appreciate it.”

“If I can clear anything up, give me a call.”

“I will.” After Meg left, Maddie moved into the living room and turned off the tape. She felt sorry for Meg. She truly did. Meg was a victim of the past just like she was, but Meg was older than both Mick and Maddie and recalled more of that horrible night. Meg also recalled more than she was willing to talk about too. More than she wanted Maddie to know, but that was okay—for now. Maddie had written the first chapter of the book but had stopped to work on the timeline. When she got the sequence of—

“Meow.”

Maddie leaned her head back. “For the love of God.” She moved to the door and look down at the kitten on the other side. “Go away.”

“Meow.”