Ransom

By then, Waters had bought the machine guns, through a friend of Jim Free's. The man they bought them from had shipped them from L.A. by Greyhound, in golf bags. They arrived undisturbed, and it was obvious that no one had checked them. Peter had been shaking from head to foot when he went to get them. And after he picked the guns up, he left them in the trunk of his car. He didn't want to risk keeping them in his hotel room. Technically, he was obliged to submit to a search of his premises, without warrant or notice, if his parole agent ever decided to show up, which so far he hadn't. He wasn't worried about Peter, especially now that he was employed. But there was no point taking chances. Up till then, everything had gone smoothly.

Peter waited for Fernanda and Ashley outside the ballet school that night, and saw Ashley come out beaming, carrying the bouquet of pink roses. Fernanda looked incredibly proud of her, and after the performance, they met up with Will and Sam for a celebratory meal at Mel's Diner on Lombard. And once they were sitting down, Peter slipped quietly into a corner booth, and ordered a cup of coffee. He was so close, he could almost touch them. And when she walked by him, he could smell Fernanda's perfume. She had worn a khaki skirt that night, a white cashmere V-neck sweater, and high heels for the first time since he'd seen her. Her hair was down, she had lipstick on, and she looked happy and pretty. Ashley had makeup on, and was still wearing her leotard from the performance. And Will was in his lacrosse uniform, while Sam told them all about the game. Will's team had won, and earlier that day, his baseball team had won the playoff. They had multiple victories to celebrate that night, and Peter felt sad and lonely as he watched them. He knew what was coming. And his heart ached for Fernanda. He felt almost like a ghost watching them. One who knew the future, and the heartbreaks that would come, and could do nothing to stop them. In order to save his own children, his voice and his conscience had been silenced.

They hung out at the house for the rest of June. Friends came and went. Fernanda did errands with Sam, and went shopping with Ashley for a few things for Tahoe. She even went shopping herself one day, just for the fun of it, but all she came home with was a single pair of sandals. She had promised Jack Waterman in January that she would buy nothing, or close to it. He had invited her and the children to spend a day in Napa with him on the Memorial Day weekend, but they couldn't go, since Will had a lacrosse game, and his mother wanted to drive him. She didn't like him driving to Marin on holiday weekends. Jack had given them a rain check for the Fourth of July weekend, when Will would be away at camp, and Ashley would be in Tahoe. Fernanda had promised that she and Sam would come, and Jack was taking them to a friend's Fourth of July picnic. She and Sam were looking forward to it. As Jack was, more than she imagined. Their friendship always seemed innocent to her, and always had been. But things were different now, in his mind, if not hers. As far as Jack was concerned, she was single. Ashley had teased her about it when her mother told her about the picnic. She said Jack had a crush on Fernanda.

“Don't be silly, Ash. He's an old friend. You're disgusting.” Ashley had said in no uncertain terms that Jack Waterman had the hots for her.

“Does he, Mom?” Sam had looked up from a stack of pancakes with interest.

“No, he doesn't. He was a friend of Daddy's.” As though that made all the difference. But Daddy was gone now.

“So? What difference does that make?” Ashley commented, as she took a bite of Sam's pancakes, and he swatted her with his napkin.

“Are you going to marry him, Mom?” Sam looked at her sadly. He liked having her to himself. He was still sleeping in her bed most of the time. He missed his dad, but he had grown even closer to his mother, and he wasn't anxious to share her.

“Of course not,” Fernanda said, looking flustered. “I'm not going to marry anyone. I still love Daddy.”

“Good,” Sam said, looking satisfied, as he stuffed a forkful of pancakes into his mouth, and dripped syrup down his T-shirt.

On the last week in June Fernanda hardly left the house. She was too busy packing. She had Will's lacrosse gear to organize and pack, and everything Ashley was taking to Tahoe. It was endless. It seemed like every time she packed something, one of them took it out of the bag again, and wore it. By the end of the week, everything was dirty, and she had to start over. Ashley had tried on everything she owned, and borrowed half of her mother's clothes. And Sam suddenly announced that he didn't want to go to day camp.

“Come on, Sam, you'll love it,” she encouraged him as she did a load of laundry, just as Ashley breezed through the laundry room wearing her mother's high heels, and one of her sweaters.