BACK HOME AGAIN
Three Years Later
As soon as the alarm clock began its never ending screeching, Aila reached over and turned it off. She could tell by the way she felt that her day would be a bad one. Feeling as if she had a massive hangover, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat up. Five seconds later, she buried her face in her hands. Dear Lord, why couldn't she get going? It wasn't like she didn't have a billion things to do before she came home tonight. Perhaps the sitter could help tame her small, but wild son for a few hours. There was to be a big meeting with the city council tonight, and of course it had to be held in her home. She had tried everything in her mortal power to beg off, but nothing she said worked. To top it all off, it was her day to baby-sit the county jail. It didn't help that today was visitation and her weak ass deputy thought he was too good to supervise the comings and goings of teary-eyed Mommas, slut-clothed girlfriends, and whiny children. They relate so much better to you, Sheriff, the deputy often said. They don't like me. He could say whatever he wanted, but the fact remained that he simply didn't want to bother with it. It was more fun running his cruiser up and down the graveled county roads searching for marijuana or meth to seize while his cruiser ate up taxpayer dollars. I'm not bitter, damn it. I'm just having a bad day, she thought as she finally raised her head. Oh great, it's dreary. Everything was falling perfectly in line to piss her off.
It had been a little over three years since Aila had said an unceremonious goodbye to Frank Donovan and Chicago, Illinois. Quite a lot had changed for her. Although the story of her new job had been a horrendous lie to the man she loved, a good friend of hers on the city council had cajoled her into running for sheriff. Up until then, she had basically done nothing but pined and mooched off her parents. Yes. It was time to get off her duff and get going again. She hadn't lived in Pineville, Kansas for a good ten years, but everyone still knew her. Her father was a mainstay in town. He was one of only three business owners and his grocery store was about the only place some of the old-timers could shop. Ironically enough, she ran against her old high school boyfriend. He had been sheriff a good ten years himself. When she laid eyes on his bald skull and paunchy stomach, she had to ask herself what the hell she saw in him back then. Of course, he couldn't compare to Frank. Not then. Not now. Not ever. She ran against him and won by a mere five votes. It wasn't a miracle landslide win, but good enough. Pineville was a sleepy little mid-western town and didn't hold a candle to Chicago. Aila longed to go back, to go back to him. Yet, it was just as well that she didn't. Men like Frank Donovan didn't stay single long. Come on, Aila. That's your past. He's part of your history now. You might as well face it before you drive yourself batty.
Shrugging away the overwhelming urge to whine and pitch a fit like a wayward child, Aila stood up and grabbed her robe. Before beginning her daily rituals, she stepped up to her vanity bureau. If she didn't get moving, she would be late. Before she stripped and jumped into the shower, she crept silently down the narrow hallway to her son's room. Ethan was still asleep in his first big boy bed. God, how it had hurt her heart to discard his crib. Her baby boy was growing up so fast. He was basically a good kid and would stay asleep until she finished her shower if she left him alone. That was the thing, though. She didn't like leaving him alone. If she wasn't ruffling his hair, she was kissing his cheek, or running her hand over his perfect little face. She was surprised she hadn't spoiled the hell out of him. But then again, he was calm and controlled like his father. Fighting the urge to run her fingers through his silky hair, she went back toward her bedroom to start readying for her endless day. She had all night to fawn and coo over her kid.
Aila was completely dressed and putting the finishing touches to her hair when she noticed she had company. Ethan had finally grown tired of sleeping and decided to make his presence known. He stood quietly in the doorway, one small fist rubbing the sleep out of his eye, the other clutching his favorite stuffed animal, a monkey he called "Bo." He was only three going on four, but looked like the world's smallest adult just getting out of bed. For the most part, he looked like her, but he was going to be tall and lanky like his dad. He watched patiently as she whipped her long hair into a braid that she tucked under and pinned down. Once that task was complete, she turned her attention toward him and swept him up in her arms. Ethan squealed in delight and dropped Bo so he could throw his little arms around her neck. He gave her an enormous hug. She couldn't quite return it as enthusiastically, because she would probably break his neck and she didn't want to do that.
Aila gave Ethan a noisy kiss on his cheek. "Well, good morning to you, my little man. What'cha want for breakfast kiddo?"
He grew pensive for half a second as if mulling over the mysteries of the pyramids. "Ethan want Kappie."
'Kappie' was Ethan's name for his favorite cereal with the cartoon guy in the nautical hat. She could never remember the name of that stuff. "Uh, now, your grandma and Lila may give that to you, boyo, but Momma is a different story. Pick something else."
He huffed. "Okay," he said dejectedly.
Aila wanted to laugh out loud. They had this discussion every day. Every day Ethan asked for his cereal, every day she denied him. She would then feed him something good for him and give him juice. When his sitter, Lila, arrived, she would give him his beloved Kappie. She had given up throwing out the cereal, because every time she did, somebody always bought him more. Without continuing the cereal argument, Aila carried Ethan into the kitchen and sat him down in his booster. He had grown much too big for a highchair. It was another thing that broke her heart. Although her mother would argue with her, she was certain that Ethan would be an only child. She hadn't had an inkling of an interest in any man. For one thing, she knew all of them, knew more than she cared to admit. For another, she was still hung up on that damn Frank Donovan. It didn't matter that their relationship was three years dead. She had truly loved him, but had to leave for her own reasons. Again, she told herself that he was probably taken. Perhaps Logan's marriage ended and she went back to Frank. They already had a kid to tie them together; it would only take a few nudges in the right direction to bring about reconciliation. After all, she would jump at the chance to see him again. God. Stop it. Feed your kid. Eat your own breakfast and get over it.
By the time Aila finished her second cup of coffee, Lila was blowing through the front door as if she were a mid-western version of the Santa Ana. It was Aila's cue to get her ass up and grab the keys to the souped up Bronco the city had procured for exclusive 'sheriffing' use. In other words, it was time to go to work. No matter how much she was putting it off, she could ignore it no longer. Lila's presence told her so. She gave her son another kiss and hugged him. He barely noticed her departure. He was too involved in making a gigantic mess of his breakfast. She slipped out the door into a dreary, dreary day. Before long, she was almost positive it would start raining. Aila was somewhat superstitious like her Scottish grandmother. She sensed the cloudy day as a bad sign of sorts. She shrugged it off, laughing a little. It had been years since she jumped at shadows. Now wasn't a time to start doing it.
Hesitating only a moment, she hopped into the Bronco, strapped herself in, and put the key in the ignition. When the engine roared to life, her radio roared right along with it. This morning, there wasn't much going on. Her deputy was busy jawing with dispatch about something uninteresting. Selfish bastard. He had a thing for the pretty dispatcher and he chatted her up at least eleven out of his twelve hours on shift. Well, she wouldn't say anything to him just yet. She would wait to pay him back after visitation day. How would he like to pull a double this weekend? She could take her kid to the park and spend the day playing with him. That's exactly what she would do. Annoyed now, she snapped off the radio. It was bad form to say the least, but she was tired of listening to Barney Fife trying to make his sweet Juanita.
She pulled the Bronco into her assigned slot and frowned when rain began to fall. Terrific. Not only did she have to deal with visitation, but it was raining, too. That meant the lobby would be filled to capacity with dozens of people. When she saw her deputy, she was going to wring his turkey waddling neck. She used her passkey and slipped into the office. Beck's voice was carrying to the break room in the back. An image of Barney Fife singing "Juanita" came into her mind again and she nearly fell over from hysterics. She had to stop. Aila noticed that Beck had brewed a pot of coffee. Of course, her mug was in her office and she would have to pass her deputy to get it. Oh well, it would end Beck's love call.
Quietly, Aila slipped into the main room. Beck had his skinny body leaned over the receiving desk. The dispatcher had suddenly gotten quiet. She had seen Aila entering. Oh God. He even looks like Barney Fife. Lord help me. "Beck, what the hell are you doing?"
The deputy spun around with swiftly reddening ears. "Ah, uh, hi there, Sheriff. How's your morning?"
She smiled. "Obviously not as good as yours. Get your skinny ass home, Beck. The shift's changed. Take Mildeen with you. Buy her a cup of coffee."
"Oh, sure," he said, embarrassed. "By the way, Sheriff, my cruiser's knockin' something fierce. I think it's time to send it to the masher."
Aila sighed heavily. Beck had been driving a cruiser probably a good thirty years old. Pineville didn't have a whole lot of funds to begin with, and her department had even less than that. However, she figured there would be enough to buy a used cruiser. "I think you're right, Beck. I've got the council tonight at my place. I'll talk to the treasurer and see what we can do. I know you need the car. I'll fight the best I can. Now get your skinny ass gone before I make you do the visitation."
She stood back and watched silently as Beck and Mildeen left the office. Aila came back from around the receiving area and let herself out into the main lobby. Her relief junior deputy was due to be at work within the hour. By then, the people would begin drifting in to see the prisoners. Until then, she decided to go to her office for a few moments of down time. She was irritated about having to ask for a new cruiser. The city council should just give permission for it and have done with it. But they didn't work that way. The town treasurer, Sybil, was actually one of her closest friends. She had a beauty shop down the street from the office and the meetings usually ran around her busy schedule. Much like her father, Sybil's shop was the only one of its kind in town. She was quite the popular lady.
Pineville kept two sets of books. One of them was always at the mayor's office or with Sybil. She didn't like letting them out of her sight. The other, a small budget book, was always with Aila. She kept close watch on the department's funds. It was an administrative role, but part of her job. She had never been a number cruncher, but again, she refused to depend on another person for her funds. She dug her key ring out of her blouse pocket, selected the proper key, and inserted it into the lock of her private filing cabinet. She dug around the clutter in the top drawer, overlooking the small petty cash bag, stray bullets without guns, the city checkbook. She spied the ledger she tracked meticulously and snagged it. She impatiently tossed it upon her desk before closing the drawer and locking the cabinet. And only doing it because she was alone, she sat back in her chair, propping her feet upon her desk. She flipped open the ledger and began the task of checking out the funds. Ah yes. More than enough for a used car.
* * *
Aila dragged her tired body into her house. She had about twenty minutes to get ready for the council meeting. She hoped Ethan was knocked out and would stay that way for the next hour or so. Before she could say a word, Lila told her that Ethan was napping. Aila nodded and smiled. Thank God. She started toward her bedroom, but couldn't resist making a pit stop by Ethan's room. However, he wasn't sleeping as she expected. To her heart's dismay, he had found the framed picture of his father and he was gazing at it curiously. She had shown him the picture and told him about his father, but it hadn't stopped his own curiosity. She often found him with the picture and it literally broke her heart. She had hid it numerous times, but Ethan somehow always managed to find it. He was quite the investigator.
She stepped into his room and sat down on the floor beside him. "What'cha doing, kid?"
He grinned up at her. "Lookin' at Daddy," he answered simply. "Is okay?"
Aila swallowed a lump. She hated cheating the boy out of his father, but her hands were tied. "Yeah, baby, it's okay."
"Can Ethan keep?"
She nodded. "Of course you can." She wanted nothing more than to take the picture and hide it again. But what good would it do? He'd only find it. "Can you be a good boy for me tonight? Will you mind Lila?"
He nodded enthusiastically. "Sure!" The exuberance went out of his face for a moment. "Momma sad?"
"Am I sad," Aila repeated. "No, baby, I'm not sad. Keep the picture." She kissed the top of his head. "Momma loves Ethan."
By the time Aila was showered and changed, she could hear the loud voice of Sybil in the kitchen. She had obviously told Lila a joke and they were laughing loud enough to wake the dead. She loved both women, but sometimes, they were a pain the ass. Before she entered the kitchen, she stopped by her wet bar and poured herself a good stiff drink. She watched the other women for a while before she made her presence known. Lila saw her first and excused herself. Council meetings were boring and she had no interest. Besides, Aila had a computer in her home office and Lila had herself an on-line boyfriend.
"You don't look so hot, Aila," Sybil said as she swiped at a stray curl of hair.
She shrugged. "I don't feel so hot, either. Shitty day at work. Beck conned me into doing visitation again and then Ethan…" She stopped talking. She didn't want to go into it.
"What about him? What did he do this time? I swear that kid is wilder than you ever were."
Aila shook her head. "He didn't do anything, not exactly. He was just…"
"Just what," she asked nosily. "Did he find his daddy's picture again?"
Aila took a sip of her drink and allowed the liquid fire to sooth her. "Yeah." She sighed heavily and moved toward the sofa. She leaned against the arm of it and brought her drink up her lips again. "But then I don't exactly hide it that well, either. He knows about his father. I've told him everything he can understand at his age. Somehow, I know there is so much missing for him, and it's wrong. I wish I could change it."
"Oh, darlin,' I didn't mean to get you all upset," Sybil said.
"It's not your fault," Aila insisted. "I know it's only going to get worse the older he gets, but I suppose I'll deal with that when the time comes. Right now, he's a sweet little boy who loves his Momma and his stuffed monkey. I don't want to take that away from him. You want something to drink, Syb?"
"Naw," she said. "I get all emotional when I drink. You don't want to see that."
Aila laughed. "That might be entertaining, though." She glanced at the wall clock and noticed that it was going on six. The rest of the crew was late, of course. This meeting would be a long one. "Syb, before the gang gets here, I'm going to make a request right now. Beck's old cruiser has just about had it. He needs another. I was skimming over my books and saw that we have more than enough to get a used cruiser. Will you jump in on my side before Wes, Hargrove, and the mayor begin bellyaching? They already think our budget is inflated as it is."
"Uh, sure," she said. "I can check the balances and make sure everything is in line. Did you bring your ledger with you?"
"No, I left it with Matt at the office. If anyone's numbers are bad, it'll be mine," she said with a rueful laugh. "I'm not a mathematics whiz."
Sybil leaned down and grabbed a briefcase that she had tucked neatly between her feet. She popped it open and dug around inside it until she found the official books. Aila watched curiously as her friend went over the figures. "Aila, I hate to say it since you got your heart set on it, but I don't see enough to buy a car, or even enough for a down payment," she said.
"You've got to be kidding, right," Aila said, astonished. "I just looked at my figures. We haven't had many expenditures."
Sybil slid her finger along her entries. "Well, I see a new tracking system bought for your Bronco two months ago. That was a pretty penny." She licked her finger and continued. "Also, I see that you bought five or six new uniforms for the crew." Another thoughtful lick of the finger. "And…there were some cleaning supplies bought for the jail."
"I'm aware of all those expenditures, but I didn't realize they were that costly."
Sybil nodded. "Yep. A shock, isn't it? Maybe you can con the mayor into releasing some money from one of his stuffed projects? He's got a ton of money set aside for the parks system. And you know as well as I that he isn't going to do anything with that money but sit on it."
Aila shook her head. "It just doesn't make sense. I'll speak to Mayor Allred and see what we can do." She looked up when she noticed a set of headlights swiftly approaching. She would recognize the car anywhere. "Speak of the devil and he appears."
* * *
Much later, Aila finally had her house to herself. Lila was gone and Ethan tucked snuggly in bed. She retired to her bedroom where she dug out a notebook and pen. Sitting quietly, thoughtfully, she chewed on the pen cap before she began scratching out a few words here and there. She looked down at the paper and realized that what she was doing was idiocy. How could she write him after so long a time? What could she say? What would he want from her now? Sighing, she tossed the notebook aside. Dog ass tired now, she stripped down to nothing and fell face first onto her bed.
Sybil's words tonight disturbed her more than the half-assed attempt at writing a letter. How in the hell could her budget be sucked dry? It wasn't remotely close to the end of the fiscal year. Hell, she was one of the most frugal sheriffs Linker County had ever seen. Nothing made sense. She trusted Sybil, but tomorrow morning, she would visit City Hall and take a look at the books to see where she had gone wrong.
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To be continued…