Arissa polished off her glass of wine. “Bingo it is.
* * *
“Thanks, Ma,” Hank muttered when his mom pushed the plate across the island toward him. A ham sandwich with American cheese sat next to a pile of chips but he had no appetite whatsoever. Not to hurt his mom’s feelings, Hank picked up the sandwich and took a bite. The familiar taste awakened his taste buds, remembering sitting in the lunchroom at Summerville elementary school.
Catherine wiped the counter down, her eyes trained on her son. “You look tired, Honey,” she said softly.
Hank ignored his mom’s comment and pushed the plate aside. Catherine stopped her swirls of the rag on the counter and asked worriedly, “Is the sandwich okay?”
“It’s great, Ma.” He took a gulp of the sweet tea and asked, “Why didn’t you ever let me go on any school trips?”
The blood drained from her face for a second before she moved to the other counter. “Oh, Honey, you wouldn’t have enjoyed them anyway.”
“How do you know?” Hank questioned.
“Honey,” Catherine tossed the rag in the sink and leaned against the counter. “Sitting on a bus for hours with sweaty kids or ice cream sundaes at Dehlia’s for breakfast.” She put a hand on her hip. “What sounds better to you?”
Hank slid off the stool, standing firm he said, “Sitting on a bus for hours with sweaty kids my own age.”
Catherine took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. “What’s with the third degree, Hank Henry?” But before Hank had a chance to reply, Catherine accused, “It’s that woman, isn’t it?”
But this time it wasn’t the woman in his life. It was a woman that walked the streets of Summerville for years that had him questioning his mom. “Why didn’t we ever go on vacation?” He shot at her.
“We didn’t have the money,” she answered quickly and turned toward the sink, flipping on the water and rinsing the rag. “Really, Hank, we have to rehash the past?” She kept her eyes on the water pouring from the faucet. “Every time a woman enters your life we have problems. No one can just let it alone—”
Hank cut his mom off. “Let what alone, Ma?”
His mom abruptly turned, water from her hands flying along the counter. “Our happiness, Hank.” Catherine stared at her son. Her Hank, who she cherished, lived for…her eyes burned with unshed tears.
Hank crossed the kitchen to her. “Ma,” he said softly and took her into his arms. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” he whispered.
Catherine wrapped her arms around her son’s waist, held him tightly and said, “I just wanted to protect you, Hank, to always make sure you were cared for, loved. That’s all I ever wanted and—”
“Ma,” he called gently. “Okay. Okay.” Hank pulled back from his mom and kissed her forehead. “I get it.”
A half an hour later when Hank folded into his truck, he tossed the brown paper bag with his sandwich in it onto the passenger seat. And as he drove back to the station, he wondered when had it all started to turn to shit. Finally he had everything he could ask for, caring, loving parents and the love of a great woman he could see a future with. No, not just see it, but also wanted. It felt all too familiar, like he rode this ride before. The only thing about this time, the pain he felt was tenfold, which was why Hank hadn’t confronted Arissa that morning about what Hya had shared with him. He had just gotten her, the thought of losing her… he couldn’t let his mind wander there, he just couldn’t.
Catherine watched out the window until she couldn’t see her son’s SUV anymore. With calculated steps, she went to the cordless phone sitting on the docking station. Picking it up, she dialed the phone number.
“Hi.”
“He’s asking questions about his childhood,” Catherine informed her husband.
Henry laid the cards down on the table and told the men he needed a minute. Stepping outside of Moe’s, he glanced to see if anyone was within earshot. When all was clear he whispered, “We knew this day would come, Cath.”
Catherine took an unsteady breath, holding back the tears she asked, “Should we tell him, Henry?”
“For Christ sakes, Catherine, he’s the law,” he grated out quietly. “We can’t.” Henry looked up and down Main Street before he told his wife. “Just do what you know you need to.”
“Okay, Darling,” Catherine said softly and wiped the tear from her cheek that had escaped her eye. She hung the phone up wishing her husband good luck in his poker game and got to work on making their lives quiet again.
* * *
Arissa followed the others into the church, and found open seats at the crowded tables. She was voluntarily sabotaging her relationship with Hank, was hunting down his ex with the intent of possibly getting them back together. She should have her head examined. A part of her wanted to do what Maureen had suggested and leave the past in the past, but she knew, for her, Phoebe would always be there, a ghost in the room. And maybe that had been Catherine’s plan all along, to make Arissa second guess what she had with Hank. Bringing Phoebe back, might backfire, but at least Hank would be making the choice and not his fucking underhanded mother. And if he did choose Phoebe, Arissa would be heading back to Charleston because watching the man she loved living the life she wanted with another, she couldn’t do that.
She found herself next to Mrs. Penny Wallaby. Lost her husband over a decade ago, spent her time in her gardens. From how loud she spoke, Arissa was guessing the woman was hard of hearing. Her eyes were cloudy with cataracts and her glasses were so thick she could probably see distant constellations with no trouble. She turned those coke bottles on Arissa,
