Sweet Sinful Nights

“Because of why you’re here?” she asked gently, as if she were talking to a child who’d been caught skipping school.

Her mom shook her head, whipping it back and forth so rapidly she was a cartoon character in fast forward. “No. Not that. Not that at all. It’s because of the—” She stopped talking and jammed her fist in her mouth, biting hard on her knuckles.

Shannon cringed and reached for her mom’s hand, trying to remove it. It wouldn’t budge. She tried again. Her mom bit deeper. “Mom, stop that,” she said in a harsh whisper. “Your CO will come back and you’ll have to go. You’re making a scene.”

Her mom crunched, digging her teeth into the flesh of her hand.

“You’re going to draw blood. Stop!”

The door swung open.

“Enough, Prince,” the corrections officer barked.

Dora dropped her fist from her mouth, her shoulders sagging, her body going limp. The big woman held up her hand and raised her index finger. “One more shot, Prince. One more shot.”

“Okay,” her mom muttered.

Shannon dared to look. Her mom’s hand had deep grooves from her own teeth. Red and raw, on the cusp of bleeding. “What was that all about?” she asked, bewildered.

“Nothing,” her mom mumbled. “Just nothing.”

Shannon nodded, trying to digest everything that had gone wrong so far. Baloney obsession and gnawing her own fist in the first three minutes. Steeling herself for another painful visit, she fixed on her best happy face, and asked, “Are you still watching General Hospital?”

Dora’s eyes lit up. They sparkled with a mad kind of glee as she began rattling off couples, and plot lines, and twists and turns. Shannon let her talk, and let her share every spoiler, because that soothed the savage beast inside her mother.

After fifteen minutes of mindless chatter about TV and the meatloaf served last night, her mom asked about Shannon’s work, and Shannon told her the latest about her shows. Then, after they’d settled into a peaceful rhythm, Shannon broached the topic of the phone call. “You said earlier you wanted to talk about something that would change everything,” she said, then swallowed. Her throat was dry. Her mouth was sawdust. She had to do this though. She had to know. “Is the case being reopened?”

Her mom sat up straight, like a puppeteer had just pulled up her marionette strings. “Is it?”

Shannon sighed. “Mom, I don’t know. I thought that’s why you wanted to talk. You told Ryan on the phone, and you told me earlier today you had news that would change everything.” She placed her hands on the table, knowing her mom would take them, knowing the woman who gave her life would want to hold them. Her mom shot out her hands instantly, gripping Shannon’s. Inside, she cringed, not wanting that kind of connection to the woman. But she let her mom do it anyway. Because it was the compassionate thing to do. That was where she could be different from the woman in orange. “Tell me. Did someone find new evidence? I heard the DA was talking to Stefano. Is there something going on? Tell me, Mommy,” she said, hating to use that term, but it was the way to get her mom talking.

“I don’t know anything about Jerry,” she said, using the shooter’s first name.

“What did you see your lawyer about then?” Shannon squeezed her bony fingers, urging her to speak.

Her mom’s chest rose and fell. She breathed heavily. Then, faster. A lone, silent tear streaked from her eye. “It’s about Luke.”

Shannon flinched. She hadn’t heard that name in years. Hadn’t thought it much either. There had been no reason to. Luke Carlton was long gone. The local piano teacher her mother had had a brief affair with when Shannon was thirteen was ancient history. The police had questioned him, but it was perfunctory. He was never a suspect. He’d had no connection at all to the crime.

“What about Luke?” she asked carefully. She wasn’t wild about the man, not by any stretch, but there was a big difference between being a cheater and being a killer. There was no evidence to show her mother’s lover was involved in any way, except loving the wrong person at the wrong time. “The police cleared him, Mom. In just two days he was cleared of any knowledge.”

“I know. He didn’t do it. He’s not that kind of man. He’s a gentleman and a saint. He’s not the one who shot your daddy in the driveway. And it wasn’t me either. It was a robbery gone wrong,” she said, sticking chapter and verse to her age-old defense, as if the open wallet and stolen bills missing from it proved her innocence.

Shannon sighed deeply, her heart cratering as her mom toed her own party line. “Then why are you bringing up Luke?”

Her mom peered to the door, making sure it was shut, then back at Shannon. She lowered her voice to a feather of a whisper. “He said he’d wait for me. He promised he’d wait for me.”

“You’re in for life. He’s going to be waiting a long time.”