Sherry would make sure she shoved the envelope under the Sharp's door.
Chloe wrote out her grocery list, threw her hair in a ponytail, called Becky, and then headed out the door. She couldn't wait to cook this dinner. If she was given the chance to talk with Conner, she'd be sure to leave Matthew out of the conversation as much as possible. They both had to believe she wasn't plotting to get Matthew to come back. Her words weren't going to have much clout, so she'd have to show them both. Beyond cooking the dinner, Chloe had no idea how she'd pull that off. One day at a time.
When she reached the big intersection, the light was green. Chloe was hoping it'd be red so she could stop and visualize Matthew being there. The driver in the large, speeding Blazer had the red light but didn't even bother to break, let alone stop.
The old blue Impala rolled twice before slamming into a telephone pole and coming to rest on its mangled side.
Chapter 9
Becky drove across the railroad tracks with a bouquet of assorted flowers, a bottle of red wine, and a box of cannoli. When Chloe told her about cooking the lasagna, she felt the need to help. Her friend would be scattered with nerves and would surely forget the small stuff. This was such an important evening for her best friend; a chance to be with someone she loved. She thought Chloe loved Edmund, but after witnessing her love for Matthew, Becky knew he was the one. She'd do anything to help give Chloe the life she more than deserved, more than paid for. Had she known how miserable Chloe was all these years, she would have yanked her from that house long ago. How it must have crushed Chloe to spend every moment of every day pretending she had loving parents, a great boyfriend, a happy life. Every time she thought about the whole picture, water filled her eyes.
Construction. Great. Becky sighed heavily and looked for a way to get around the traffic backup. Afraid to leave the main road and drive on unfamiliar, and probably dangerous, side streets, she decided to wait it out. The thoughts of leaving this road and getting lost were terrifying her. She saw some cars turning around which would definitely give her a chance to do the same; she just had to move up some. Twenty minutes passed and finally Becky could see an officer directing traffic. The closer she got, the more police cars, ambulances, and fire trucks came into view. No construction workers. Oh God, an accident. A bad one. Becky said a silent prayer as she waited her turn to be directed by the officer. Hopefully she wouldn't see any of the victims.
One of the vehicles came into view. Becky stared at the totaled SUV, which had a white tarp lying over the driver's side of the smashed front end. Someone died. Her whole body began to tremble at the thought of it all. She hoped it wasn't someone young, or a mother, or … .The officer began blowing his whistle louder, his arm moving more urgently in the 'turn around' motion. Becky's hands gripped the steering wheel, her mouth opened … .The officer began yelling louder. "Ma'am, turn around please!" Her fingers wrapped around the door handle, sweat was making them slip off. "Stay in your car and turn around. Now!" She flung open the door, knocking the officer back some.
"Nooooooo!!! No, no, no, no, NOOOOO!!!" Becky took off running and continued to run in midair as the officer wrapped his arms tightly around her, lifting her off the ground to hold her back. "Ma'am, they're getting ready to cut the victim out of the car. We don't know what kind of condition they're in. Do you know the driver?"
"Chloe! Chloe Burlington! Oh, God!!!"
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
Lois Shepherd fixed herself a warm cup of milk and sat down with the evening paper. Normally at this hour she'd be cleaning up the kitchen while talking to Chloe after their dinner. She missed that girl. Lois quietly laughed to herself at how they both managed to escape the estate. Even though she told Earl Burlington about the neglect his daughter was enduring, she doubted anything had changed. You either love someone enough to act decently on your own or you don't. The fact that she had to make the call in the first place was heartbreaking. Chloe was like a daughter to her, and she wished what any normal mother would wish for their child; happiness, love, and the freedom to be what she aspired to be. She checked the paper every day for updates about the Burlington's. It was the only way she'd ever find out if they cared enough to come home to their daughter.
The society page was filled with celebrities. What some people wear … Lois laughed loudly at the old actresses who still dressed like they were eighteen. Who could walk in those shoes?! She turned the page and looked at celebrity homes, some in foreclosure or for sale. Rich couples involved in divorce disputes were always splattered on the pages. The photographs of their children were the worst offense. Putting the face of a child out there for every sick pedophile … .God, they got a picture of Chloe! Lois immediately felt her blood boil. Leave that child alone! She looked at the article for a reporter's name, someone to yell at over this. Bastards!
… Slowly, the paper dropped from her hands. With shaking legs, Lois held onto the armrests of the recliner while trying to stand. Bile rose to her mouth, adding a gurgling sound to her scream. The house suddenly seemed larger as she tried to make herself walk down the hall to the kitchen; it was taking forever. After dropping the phone three times while trying to dial, she could barely process the voice on the other end. "Hello, this is Chloe. Leave me a message and I'll call you back shortly."
"You call me right back, Chloe! You call me!!!"
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
Matthew walked in the door at seven in the evening feeling agitated and exhausted. There was an envelope sitting on the counter with his name on it. Ripping it open, he immediately recognized the new truck key. He shoved it in his pocket so he would remember to give it right back to Chloe. She's got a lot of nerve … Thinking about the truck fiasco really ticked him off, but it was the constant harping to forgive and forget that really sent him over the top. "You should talk to her … Give her a chance … She's only trying to help … She loves you...Matthew didn't have to be reminded of what he constantly struggled over. His pride was too big to admit he could use the financial help she tried to give. Men are supposed to take care of women, not the other way around. The anger he felt was eating him alive. The lies are what did it. If you love someone, you don't lie to them, especially about who the hell you are! He reached in the fridge and grabbed a beer before acknowledging his father. He loved the man more than anything, but also knew 'The Chloe' conversation was going to come soon. He better be ready for the repeated 'talk to her' argument, and a beer or two would help with that.
"Hey, Dad, how're you feeling? Are you hungry?"
Conner watched his son take the beer and sit on the sofa while he turned on the news. His clenched jaws were easy to see. Conner responded but doubted Matthew even heard him. He was watching his boy's life slowly fall apart and felt incredibly helpless.
"Yeah, I could eat a bite," he repeated. "There're some hotdogs in the fridge." Conner thought it best to keep the conversation light, no matter how bad he wanted to talk about what was eating at his son.
"Sounds good to me." Matthew got up and headed to the kitchen. He reached under the stove and pulled out a small pot to boil the hotdogs in, then searched around for something to go with it. Green beans. That'll work. "Green beans okay with you?" Matthew waited for a response before opening the can. No response came from the living room. "Dad, you want green beans?" Sometimes his father had trouble hearing. "Dad!" Matthew sat the can down and walked into the living room. He saw the shocked look on his father's face and his trembling finger pointing to the television screen.
Matthew stared at the screen. "No, there's got to be fifty Burlington's around … No, her hair's a little longer than that … It's not her … Chloe is a pretty common name. She was probably named after another Chloe Burlington. Do you want green beans?"
"Son-"
"Those'll go good with the hotdogs."
"Matthew-"
"You want iced tea or lemonade?"
"Come over to me, Matthew."
"I can run up to the store and buy a bag of chips. Those'll be good too."
Conner watched the tears begin to slide off his son's face and drip down the front of his shirt.
"Heck, I don't have to cook. I can run and pick up some burgers. You wanna watch a game show? Here, let's watch a game show while we eat."
Conner put the locks on the wheelchair and slowly stood as tall as he could. He opened his arms wide while his lower lip quivered. "Come to me, son."
… The strong roofer let out a low, guttural sound while taking five large, fast steps towards the loving open arms before him. Matthew's knees gave out and he slumped to the ground in front of his father's feet.
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
The officer sat Becky back on the ground but kept his arms wrapped around her so she wouldn't run. When the firemen began to cut away the metal, he pulled her into his chest and held the back of her head.
"What's your name, miss?"
"Becky. That's my best friend in there. Is she-"
"Don't look in that direction. I promise to let you know everything that's happening, okay?"