The Minnesota Candidate (10 page)

“I’m sorry about that,” said Tom. “She’s
obviously in a lot of pain and probably doesn’t realize how that
came out. I’m sure she didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Don’t go making excuses for her, Fat Tommy,”
said Sam. “Your ma could shave with that tongue of hers. You should
have stood up to her. She knew exactly what she was sayin’.”

Tom raised a finger at Sam, but he only shook
his head. Sam had been right. His mom did have a sharp tongue and
she never missed a chance to cut with it. He scooped mashed
potatoes onto her plate and ladled some gravy over them.

“Sam, I really wish you would stop calling him
Fat Tommy,” said Shari. “I know it’s a family nickname, but I don’t
like it. Could you do that for me?”

“Sweetie,” said Sam, patting Shari on the
shoulder, “all I can say is that for you, I’ll do my best. Old
habits die hard.”

“Thank you,” said Shari, offering Sam a glass of
red wine.

“You’re welcome,” he said, turning to Tom. “And
I suppose that goes both ways about old habits. I know your ma
wants you to be happy. Just give her some time. She’ll come
around.”

Tom smiled and nodded, doubting everything Sam
had just said. “I know she will,” he said, forcing a smile onto his
face. He then picked up his mother’s plate and silverware and
walked out of the kitchen.

Shari and Sam politely argued over which one of
them should dish up, first. Shari stood her ground and won the
argument. She hovered next to Sam as he fixed his plate. “So,” she
whispered, “you didn’t seem to buy her story.”

Sam seemed to consider his answer. “Did you buy
it?” he asked.

“I might have, but now I’m not so sure.”

“My cousin, God bless her, but she’s a snoopy
woman.”

“Oh really, and you think she was snooping
around here?”

“I never said that. All I’m sayin’ is that she
got pretty banged up falling down those three steps. Know what I
mean?”

“How long are we going to do this dance,
Sam?”

Sam turned to face Shari. “I’m done dancin’.
Look, I love Tommy and I think you’re the best thing that’s ever
happened to him. Yeah, I found the lever by the bookcase. And if I
found it, you can bet your britches that Doris found it. I mean, it
ain’t hidden very good. I’m sorry, I wasn’t being snoopy. I never
stepped a foot down there. In fact, I even showed it to Tommy. I
told him that he should never go down there, not unless you was
right there with him. Go ahead and ask him.”

Shari sipped her wine and nodded her head. “I
didn’t know it was so noticeable,” she said. “Don’t worry, I
believe you. And you think Doris fell down into the tunnel?”

“Just look at her. What do you think?”

Shari covered her mouth and giggled. “Serves her
right, I can’t say that I feel sorry for her.”

“Aren’t you worried that she was over in the
other house?”

“Not at all, I had the other end of the tunnel
boarded up after my parents died. Besides, I’ve got a pretty good
alarm system in that house. I’m not worried about her getting
inside. That place is locked up tighter than a bank.”

Sam nodded and pulled the toothpick from his
mouth. “If you don’t mind me asking, but what the hell are you
hidin’ over there? Don’t you think you should show the place to
your husband? Tommy is a good kid. You can trust him with your
life.”

Shari sighed. “I know that. This isn’t about
trust, Sam. I keep everyone locked out because the memories are too
painful for me. I don’t go in there, won’t go in there, and don’t
want anyone else going in there. Do you understand? I suppose that
sounds crazy to you.”

“Well, you did marry an Italian.”

“What?”

“Never mind, sweetie, just a punchline to an old
joke. Look, I understand and if Tommy understands, then this is all
water under the bridge. I didn’t know you felt that way. I know I
sure miss my folks. I guess we all have our own way of keepin’
their memory alive.”

“I guess we do.”

Sam waited until Shari was done dishing up and
he followed her out to the dining room. They sat at the table as
Tom spoon-fed his mother, occasionally dabbing her chin with a
paper napkin.

“Tell me about your day,” said Doris, between
bites. “And how did you end up with that no-good on your
doorstep?”

“I can hear you,” said Sam.

Doris rolled her eyes as Tom shoveled in another
spoonful. “That’s just ma being funny,” he said. “I was down at
Shari’s office and we took a walk in the park. We ran into Sam at a
coffee shop. Sam’s working now. He got a job with a construction
company. Isn’t that nice, ma?”

“Do they know about his criminal record?”

“Yes,” said Sam, “they know all about me. I got
ears, Doris.”

“And they still hired you? Boy, they must be
desperate for help. That must not be a very good company. No
offence, Sam, but I wouldn’t hire you.”

“And I wouldn’t hire you,” said Sam. “That makes
us even.”

“Tom,” said Shari, “would you mind turning on
CNN? I feel like I haven’t caught the news in weeks.”

“That’s because you’ve been too busy shacking up
with my son,” grunted Doris. “Do you think I don’t remember what it
was like to be a newlywed?”

Now it was Tom’s turn to groan. He stood up and
found the remote control. A moment later, he found CNN on the
satellite and he turned up the sound until it felt as if the
reporters were shouting at them. He then resumed feeding his
mother.

As usual, the news was all bad. The Russians
were up to no good in Eastern Europe and the Chinese were busy
flexing their military muscles across Asia. Another jetliner had
mysteriously disappeared, while wildfires swept across California.
Inflation, once thought to be in check, was hitting consumers hard.
And the Minnesota Twins, Tom’s favorite baseball team, was tied for
last place in the American League with the Kansas City Royals. Some
things never changed, thought Tom.

Doris finished everything on her plate and asked
Tom if she could have seconds. Shari offered to take over his
duties so he could eat, but Doris nixed that idea without even
opening her mouth. There was no mistaking the look, a look that
would have sent small children running to the hills.

Eventually, Tom was able to eat his dinner. He
sat at the table with Shari and Sam, and the three of them talked
quietly about the day’s top news stories. Every now and again,
Doris would turn in their direction and give them a look of
disapproval.

“Where do you think those airplanes are?” asked
Sam.

“I don’t know,” said Tom, “but it sure is
creepy.”

“Somebody knows,” said Shari. “I’m not buying it
that they just vanished without a trace.”

“Aliens!” shouted Doris.

Tom closed his eyes and chewed his food,
wondering if he could make it until Friday. If everything went
according to schedule, they were supposed to spring their surprise
upon his mother at 7:00 that evening. Tom found that he was
counting the minutes.

“Could be,” said Shari, “that’s not as crazy as
it sounds.”

Doris hauled herself to her feet and
mechanically, like a broken robot, she began to shuffle over to the
dining room. “Did you just call me crazy?” she bellowed. “I’ll tell
you what’s crazy. Crazy is living in this little shack with that
great big mansion sitting empty, right next door! Crazy is working
at some stupid job when you’ve got more money than Jay P.
Rockefeller. That’s crazy. Oh, don’t get me going about crazy.”

“Ma, will you just stop it?”

“No, Tom, let her speak her mind,” said Shari,
holding up her finger. “I want to hear it.”

“Oh boy,” muttered Sam, “here we go.”

Dressed like an aging Raggedy Ann, Doris
staggered until she stood next to the table. “You want to hear it?
Well that’s just fine with me. Why the hell is he here?” she asked,
pointing to Sam. “You both must be crazy. They don’t call him
Shifty for nothin’, ya know. Can’t you see that he’s just casing
your house out?”

“I’ve heard enough,” said Sam. “I’m not going to
take this.”

“Oh, shut up and quit acting like you’re some
white knight shining in armor or something. You’re a three time
loser, Sam. You’ve done nothing but cast a bad shadow over this
family. Everyone thinks we’re in the damn mafia because of you. Do
you want to know what the neighborhood kids used to call me?
Machine-gun Doris. Yeah, that’s right, and do you think I liked it?
That’s on your head, Sam. You brought shame down upon this
family.”

Sam jabbed his toothpick in Doris’ direction.
“Who are you to talk? Yeah, I made some mistakes and I paid for all
of them. But you’re dead wrong when it comes to the man I am today.
I might not be no knight in shining armor, which, by the way, is
how the expression is supposed to go. But I’ll tell you one thing,
Doris, I gave my life over to Jesus Christ and I’m a changed man.
You can say whatever you like about my past. I know I was a loser,
but I’m not that same guy. I have a good job and a future to look
forward to. What do you got, huh? I’ll tell you what you’ve got:
you got nuttin’. You’re a sick old broad who gets her jollies by
making everyone around you miserable. Can’t you ever be nice?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” shrieked Doris.
“I’ve always been nice to you and this is how you repay me? You sit
there and lie to everyone about giving your life to the Lord, but
we all know it’s a lie. You’re nothing but a common thief!”

“Please stop,” groaned Tom.

“Yes,” said Shari, “now it’s my turn. Sam is a
guest in our house, Doris, and I won’t allow you to speak of him
that way. I don’t care if you think I’m crazy. As a matter of fact,
I don’t care at all what you think of me. Let’s get back to your
injuries, shall we? You said that you fell down the steps? I’m not
buying it. Why don’t you tell us the truth, Doris? We all know
where you really fell.”

The color drained from Doris’ face as she put
her hands on her hips. “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking
about.”

Shari sipped her wine. “You fell down in the
tunnel, isn’t that right?”

“Ma, is that really what happened?”

“What tunnel? I told you that I fell down the
stairs. Quit putting words into my mouth!”

Shari crossed her arms. “Stop lying about it. Do
we have to go down there and see for ourselves? Judging by the way
you look, I’m pretty sure we’ll find fresh blood down there. Tom,
Sam told me that you know all about the tunnel. Would you be kind
enough to walk down there with me?”

“Stop it!” shouted Doris. “Okay, I was down
there. You don’t have to make a federal case out of it. What did
you expect me to do all day, play tiddlywinks? I found your stupid
tunnel when I was dusting. Naturally, I was curious and wanted to
see where it went. If you ask me, you should be more worried about
Sam knowing about it. He’s the family felon.”

“I ain’t even gonna dignify that with a
response,” said Sam, rising up from his chair. “Tom, Shari, I’m
going to head down to my room. I’m sorry if I raised my voice. Good
night.”

“And I’m sorry, too,” said Doris. “I shouldn’t
have said all of those mean things. Give me a break, I did bang my
head.”

Sam looked at Doris as if she had just vomited
on him. He then picked up his dishes and walked into the
kitchen.

“I am sorry, Shari,” whispered Doris. “I just
can’t say anything right. All my words get mixed up and once again,
old Doris sticks her foot into her mouth. Tommy, please say that
you forgive me? I love you, I really do. I love you, both.”

Shari gave Doris a polite smile and nodded her
head. She then gathered up her dishes and brought them into the
kitchen. With the CNN anchor screaming at them from the television,
Tom and Doris stared at each other. “Ma,” said Tom, “you really
need to work on biting your tongue. You hurt people.”

“I know, I know, and I am working on it, Tommy,”
said Doris, the first tears beginning to trickle down her cheeks.
“I’m so sorry. Do you forgive me?”

“Of course, Ma, but I’m your son. I have to
forgive you. I want you to make things right with Shari and Sam.
Not tonight, but soon.”

Doris put a hand to her forehead and sobbed. “I
have a terrible headache, honey. I think I’m going to go to
bed.”

Tom stood up and gave his mother a hug. “Get
some rest. Tomorrow is another day.”

“I’ll try and remember that. Good night, Tommy.
Mommy loves you.”

“And your Tommy loves you,” replied Tom,
something they had been saying to each other at bedtime for as long
as Tom could remember. Except this time, Tom had felt nothing for
his mother as he said it. This made him feel bad. Watching his mom
shuffle away, obviously in great pain, only made him feel worse.
Tom walked into the living room and shut off the television. There
had been enough shouting for one night.

Chapter 8

The following morning, Tom was up and out of bed
at the crack of dawn. He took a quick shower and dressed in the
inky morning light. As he pulled on his socks, he noticed something
peculiar about Shari as she slept. He moved closer to the bed to
get another look, and as he did so, his heart skipped a beat. Tom
took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He then put his hand on
her shoulder and gave it a shake. “Hey,” he whispered, “wake up,
baby.”

“I’m not leaving the house,” growled Shari.
“Someone has to stay here and babysit your mother.”

“Come on, don’t be like that.”

“I’m not leaving and that’s final. What time is
it?”

“It’s just after five.”

“Are you serious? Why did you wake me up so
early? You know I’ll never get back to sleep.”

“Today is a special day. There is something I
want you to see. Will you at least have a cup of coffee with
me?”

Shari threw the covers back and sat up. She was
still angry about the previous evening and had never been much of a
morning person. She glared at Tom, and his stupid grin only fanned
the flames of her anger. “Whatever you do, do not wake up your
mother. I do not want to see her.”