Читать книгу Merciful Law - Darby Sr. Rae - Страница 13

The boys came up with a list of pictures they wanted me to take of them with their father. There were only a few rooms in the house bright enough to shoot without a flash, but I had to be careful not to get caught. We called it our secret mission. It was a riot to see them drag Emmet randomly all over the property. I was sneaking around the bushes shooting pictures. Certainly I would end up with chiggers or poison ivy before the secret mission was over.

The boys were dying to see all the pictures, but Emmet didn’t leave the house at all that day, so it would have to wait until Wednesday when Emmet would be at the office. I just couldn’t risk getting caught and spoiling the surprise.

Wednesday, I picked up the boys from school so they could come to the scrapbooking store and choose the photo album or scrapbook they wanted for Emmet’s Father’s Day surprise. Emmet thought we were going to the pet store to look at snakes and lizards; something Susan would never take them to do. We would stop at the pet store too, but only after we had finished our first errand.

Agreeing on a scrapbook was a much easier task than I had anticipated. The store only had two with reptiles on it, and one was too “babyish” for them because the reptiles were cartoons…not like the real reptiles they had, they said. This gave us plenty of time at the pet store, although the boys were anxious to get back to the house so they could see all the pictures I took of them with their father on Sunday.

Back at the house, the coast was clear. Emmet was still at work. That didn’t prevent us from adding a bit of drama entering the house with the scrapbook as if it was the Holy Grail. The boys and I crept along the side of the house as though our lives depended on not getting caught. Luckily, our entrance to the house wasn’t too physically taxing. My body still hurt from my “assessment” with Harold on Saturday. In thirty minutes he exhausted every muscle in my body—each one continued to protest when I used it.

Even laughing hurt, which was difficult to refrain from while watching the seriousness on Josh and Eli’s faces. One by one we advanced our position toward the back door. Josh went inside first. After a few moments he came back, looked at Eli soberly, and waved him into the house. Another couple of moments passed and Eli repeated Josh’s actions mirroring his every move and facial expressions to wave me in.

I carefully hid the scrapbook in my room, joining the boys in Josh’s room to review the pictures from my camera’s memory card. Josh’s huge computer monitor made it easy to scroll through all the pictures. Each boy chose twenty shots to put in the book and I emailed them to Wal-Mart for developing. Josh and Eli gave me some of their priceless artwork to incorporate in the book as well.

I removed the memory card from the computer and was running through the timeline in my head—pick up the pictures tomorrow— assemble the scrapbook by Friday—finishing touches with the boys on Saturday. I smiled in satisfaction a nanosecond before the crash. Lego pieces and parts were all over the place and Josh was screaming at Eli.

“I told you never to touch my Legos! Never, never, never. And Dad told you too. You stupid retard!”

“Josh!” I said. “That’s no way to talk to Eli. I’m sure it was just an accident. I’ll help you put your Lego cars back together.”

“You can’t. You don’t know how! Only Dad knows how and he’s not here!”

“Your Lego cars are stupid. They’re stupid, and you’re stupid,” Eli said lisping with each word.

“Get out of my room! Annie, make him get out. Why don’t you go to your own room and break some of your stuff ! Get out of my roooooooom!”

As much as I tried to calm Josh down, it didn’t help. He wouldn’t be happy until Eli was out of his room and his father came home to rebuild his Lego fleet. Almost on cue, Emmet came in the door. “What’s all the yelling?” He said, entering the room.

The boys went back and forth explaining their side of the story complete with who started it and who called who a bad name. Emmet was so calm with both of them, I wasn’t sure how he could keep a straight face. I wished all my life’s problems were as easy as putting Lego cars back together.

“Annie, will you take Eli downstairs and have him help you with dinner while Josh and I reassemble some of these cars?”

“Of course,” I said. Poor Eli. I could tell he felt badly about wrecking his brother’s things. However, one helpful attribute of a six-year old is they are easily distracted. We made a game out of setting the table and took turns describing the ultimate ice cream sundae. Eli had an incredible imagination and as he gave his final description of the ultimate-ultimate ice cream sundae, his blue eyes widened as he pictured it.

Dinner was almost ready when Josh entered the kitchen.

“I’m sorry for calling you a stupid retard, Eli,” Josh said.

“Sorry I broke your stuff,” Eli answered. Emmet nodded at both his boys and that was it; crisis over. I didn’t remember it being like that with my sisters and me. Maybe there was a different dynamic with boys, I thought. Or maybe it was because their father was over six feet tall and outweighed each of them four or five times.

Emmet talked to the boys about their day. He was always good at asking them what went on at school and what they learned. They were clearly the focus of his attention every night at dinner. Still, he usually drew me into the conversation at some point; that night—nothing. He was miffed I couldn’t handle the boys fighting.

After dinner Emmet took the boys upstairs without helping clean up. He was definitely not in a good mood. He had the boys in bed at 8:30 sharp. I was in the library looking over the checklist for Saturday’s cocktail party when he came in and closed the door. I was right. He looked angry. In fact, he looked furious. I knew I had a lot to learn about kids, but if he was going to come unglued whenever I made a mistake…this would be a painful learning process for both of us.

“Why?” He asked.

“Emmet, they started fighting and you heard the worst part. I know I didn’t react quickly enough, but—”

“Shut up; just shut up. That’s not what I am talking about and you know it!”

I looked at him completely confused…what had I done to enrage him? I hadn’t missed any deadlines, all the details were in order for his dinner party Saturday, and dinner was actually good for a change.

“You’ve lost me,” I said. “Whatever it is, just tell me, I’ll fix it.”

“Really, how will you fix THIS?” He screamed with a deadly look in his eyes as he slammed my camera’s memory card down on the table. “Tell me, how? How are you going to fix it? You’re nothing but a money-hungry opportunistic thief. No better than the other pieces of trash I’ve thrown out of my house. You think you can invade my privacy like this…take pictures of my boys and me? Sell them to some rag-bag, gossip-ridden newspaper without me finding out it was you? What was your plan, Annie? Sell the pictures and then leave in the middle of the night before I could have you arrested?”

“Wait, Emmet, you’ve misunderstood. I never intended to sell any

pictures. I would never do such a thing.”

“Shut up! Do you take me for an absolute fool? Do you believe you are the first parasite that has leached on to my family? Do you? Do you?”

“No, that’s not it at all—”

“I should call the police right now and have you arrested. Who’s your client, Annie? Who are you selling them to?”

“Nobody. I don’t have a client…I just…”

“Liar…I could have you arrested just for intent; have you locked up like a common criminal. Not a smart criminal.” He said shaking the memory card at me. “Leaving the evidence in Josh’s room. You must have panicked when I sent you downstairs tonight wondering if I would find the proof of your greediness.”

“Emmet, you never gave me the privacy agreement to sign…but I will. You have to know I would never—”

“Here’s what I know. I know I can’t trust you. I know you are a parasite. I know you will sign the privacy agreement tomorrow morning. I know I have your computer, your cell phone, and your keys. I know if I find out you have sent these pictures to anyone, you will go to jail. I know Romulus is already out, so don’t try to leave or he’ll rip you apart. Don’t bother trying to fix this, Annie; you’re fired. Betrayal can’t be fixed. I hope it was worth it.”

Emmet picked up the memory card and stormed out of the room. I was initially shell shocked but anger was bubbling up as I thought of all the ugly things he called me… opportunistic thief…piece of trash… parasite…common criminal? I didn’t want to spoil the surprise the boys had planned for Sunday, but I felt like storming into his room and beating him about the head and shoulders with the album.