Day 27

Home stretch, home stretch, just a few more days now!!
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I could see why Cynthia Rose was attracted to him, Brad Smith was a very handsome man, he looked like he’d just stepped off the cover of a men’s magazine like GQ. Blonde hair, cerulean blue eyes, that perpetual tan of the boys of summer. His jawline was regal and his face in perfect proportions. He was slim and muscular, I would bet beneath those expensive designer threads he wore he had a rippled six pack.

But to me all I saw was a snake slithering in the grass of Eden. He came off with an oily charm and when I looked at him I heard warning bells.

He said all the right things but I saw the way he looked around, like our nice home wasn’t good enough for him, his smug pride when he looked at Jude’s plump face, Jake’s average face and Daddy’s wrinkles and thought secretly that he was the handsomest guy in the joint.

But he made me the most uncomfortable with Cynthia Rose. When they sat together at dinner I picked up a note of menace in his few softly spoken words to her. Cynthia Rose looked directly down at the table top and blushed red. I was amazed because I’d thought with the life style Cynthia had lived in the past that she was beyond all embarrassment. I was wrong.

During dessert he tried to ingratiate himself with me by engaging me in conversation about the state’s new sweepingly ambitious mental health programs and how that was going to translate to less crimes and decreased poverty in the state of Mississippi. But I saw through his obvious facade. Cynthia cut me a look as if to say, “I’m sorry.”

Looking back at that dinner party makes me weep because if I had even an inkling of what was coming soon I would have never let Cynthia leave and I would have perhaps called the cops to removed Brad Smith. But you just never know when things are unfolding where they will lead. That was the last night I ever saw my sister.

Momma and Daddy went home the day after that dinner party, we saw them off to the airport and several days later my sister Hope Maria showed up, as naive and sheltered as I’d been, straight off the bus from Pennsylvania. We bought her a car and paid her the salary we would have given to a stranger and I was glad to have her in our home, reconnecting with another member of my family. I enjoyed her presence and her crazy sense of humor.

It was kind of a funny thought leaving my children in Hope’s care considering I had cared for her during her young years, changed her diaper many times and given her a bottle. Now she was returning the favor in my life through my children.

And we settled into life. Hope enrolled in seminary for night time classes, I went back to work thirty hours per week and Jude continued on at his position with NASA. We settled into a routine, the only thing changing was how much the babies grew.

It seemed every day they changed a little bit and I felt torn between Rachel, Seth and Jacob versus my job. Raising the triplets meant that I didn’t get much rest at home after work. The washer seemed to be constantly in use and many times both Jude and I had to get up together to get the diapering and feeding done in the middle of the night. Sometimes even with my sister Hope there to help out I felt like a zombie.

Because I was walking around in this state like a zombie I didn’t even realize at first that it had been a few weeks since I’d last talked to Cynthia Rose. One afternoon a client cancelled at the last second and I had a few free moments so I decided to give her a call.

When the phone was picked up after many rings it didn’t even sound like my sister on the other end. It sounded like the booze rattled too many cigarettes and late nights night owl croaking out a greeting immediately upon rising in mid afternoon. We talked for awhile and Cynthia told me that because Brad was even more short handed at the bars she was pulling more shifts.

Over the coming weeks whenever I spoke with Cynthia Rose she sounded even worse, sickly even. I kept asking her if things were alright between Brad and her but I always got the answer that he was wonderful and that they would be marrying after all this trouble with the clubs settled down.

Of course I never believed her and I let her know each time if she ever needed to get away she was welcome at my home. She could call me any time day or night.

When the call finally came I wasn’t really expecting it. I’d fallen asleep in the rocking chair in the babies room after having breast fed all three babies. Jude had stumbled into the nursery, sleep addled and hardly able to walk or talk. He mumbled out that Cynthia was on the phone for me and it was urgent.

I was instantly awake and I ran downstairs to talk to Cynthia without stealing any more of Jude’s precious sleep. But Cynthia was crying so hard I could barely make out what she was saying, something about how Brad had beaten her black and blue because she’d dared to refuse his request to go on the road. Brad had purchased interests in clubs nationwide, from Seattle to Key West and he expected her to dance in all of them. His scheme was to rotate his dancers around so that the clientele didn’t get bored with the same old dancers.

She’d gasped out, “There’s just so much you don’t know, Emily and I’m afraid to tell you.”

“Do you want me to come get you?” I asked anxiously, “Whatever it is, Cynthia, it’s easier to face if there are two of us. I would never presume to judge you on anything that you’ve done in the past. I’m your sister and I love you.”

“No, no,” she whispered, “I’ve already called a cab, I’ll come to you. Just make sure that the security personnel at the gate know not to let Brad in regardless of what he says. I’ll be there in about an hour because I need to pack first.”

“Leave your things and get out of there. Things are replaceable but you are not.” I urged frantically.

“I want to take my jewelry and some things I’ve had for years. Don’t worry, Brad left for his club across town to watch the late shift manager and he’ll probably be gone till dawn. I have plenty of time to get out of here” Cynthia said, sounding calmer already.

After I hung up the phone I’d made a pot of coffee and sat in front of the french doors watching the waves roll in and out, thinking about Cynthia and how much she’d changed through the years.

She never came. Close to dawn I got a phone call from her brightly saying that everything was good and I shouldn’t worry. Brad and her would be setting a date next week and she’d call me and let me know. That was the last phone call from my sister.

Several weeks past, no word. I was feeling scared for Cynthia Rose but heard nothing. She didn’t call and life went on in it’s endless cycle of diapering, feeding, sleeping and work. I worried but not unduly, this is always how it went with Cynthia and I, when things were going well, or at least average, she didn’t call much. But when things were not so great I heard from her a lot. I figured her silence meant she’d worked out whatever the problem had been with Brad. While I wanted her to dump Brad I knew that there was nothing I could say or do to make that happen. Cynthia would have to take the first essential step of breaking away.

When six weeks had passed without hearing from Cynthia I tried given her a call, first to her cell phone, which just rang and rang without either clicking over to voice mail or being answered. Very odd, I thought. When I rang her home phone it immediately clicked over to voice mail but the voice wasn’t someone I recognized saying that this number wasn’t available so please leave a message. Usually you got a recording of a bubbly Cynthia Rose telling callers that she and Brad were all tied up and to leave that message.

Not too weird and alarming but still, I knew at that moment something was very off without knowing why.

When another week passed and now Cynthia’s cell phone gave the message that the number was out of service combined with that strange voice on her home phone I started to worry. I took off work early one afternoon and drove into Biloxi to the apartment she shared with Brad Smith atop the Bayswater Biltmore.

I did not find what I’d been expecting at all. And it made me even more uneasy than before.

I remember how my ride up the elevator to the penthouse apartment Cynthia Rose lived in seemed to take an eternity instead of a moment or so. I had no eyes for the view from the rooftop lobby window across the wind swept beach. I was solely focused on assuring myself that my sister was alright.