Reminders of Him A Novel

PRAISEFORCOLLEENHOOVER
“Whatagloriousandtouchingread,aforeverkeeper.Thekindofbookthatgetshandeddown.”
—USATodayonItEndswithUs
“Confess,byColleenHoover,isabeautifulanddevastatingstorythatwillmakeyoufeelsomuch.”
—Guardian
“ItEndswithUstackles[a]difficultsubject…withromantictendernessandemotionalheft.Therelationshipsareportrayedwithcompassionandhonesty,andtheauthor’snoteattheendthatexplainsHoover’spersonalconnectiontothesubjectmatterisamust-read.Packedwithrivetingdramaandpainfultruths,thisbookpowerfullyillustratesthedevastationofabuse—andthestrengthofthesurvivors.”
—Kirkus,starredreview
“HooverjoinstheranksofsuchluminariesasJenniferWeinerandJojoMoyes,withadashofGillianFlynn.Suretopleaseaplethoraofreaders.”
—LibraryJournal,starredreview,forNovember9
“Hooverbuildsaterrificnew-adultworldherewithtwopeoplegrowingintheircareersanddiscoveringmaturelove.”
—Booklist,starredreview,forUglyLove
“Betrayals,secrets,andshiftingfamilyloyaltieskeepthepagesturninginthisexcellentcontemporaryfromHoover…ThisisHooveratherverybest.”
—PublishersWeekly,starredreview,forRegrettingYouOTHERTITLESBYCOLLEENHOOVER
Layla
HeartBones
RegrettingYou
Verity
AllYourPerfects
WithoutMerit
TooLate
ItEndswithUs
November9
Confess
UglyLove
Hopeless
LosingHope
FindingCinderella:ANovella
MAYBESOMEDAYSERIES
MaybeSomeday
MaybeNot:ANovella
MaybeNow
SLAMMEDSERIES
Slammed
PointofRetreat
ThisGirlThisisaworkoffiction.Names,characters,organizations,places,events,andincidentsareeitherproductsoftheauthor’simaginationorareusedfictitiously.
Textcopyright?2022byColleenHoover
Allrightsreserved.
Nopartofthisbookmaybereproduced,orstoredinaretrievalsystem,ortransmittedinanyformorbyanymeans,electronic,mechanical,photocopying,recording,orotherwise,withoutexpresswrittenpermissionofthepublisher.
PublishedbyMontlake,Seattle
www.apub.com
Amazon,theAmazonlogo,andMontlakearetrademarksofAmazon.com,Inc.,oritsaffiliates.
ISBN-13:9781542025607
ISBN-10:1542025605
CoverdesignbyCarolineTeagleJohnsonThisbookisforTasara.CONTENTS
CHAPTERONEKENNA
CHAPTERTWOLEDGER
CHAPTERTHREEKENNA
CHAPTERFOURLEDGER
CHAPTERFIVEKENNA
CHAPTERSIXLEDGER
CHAPTERSEVENKENNA
CHAPTEREIGHTLEDGER
CHAPTERNINEKENNA
CHAPTERTENLEDGER
CHAPTERELEVENKENNA
CHAPTERTWELVELEDGER
CHAPTERTHIRTEENKENNA
CHAPTERFOURTEENLEDGER
CHAPTERFIFTEENKENNA
CHAPTERSIXTEENLEDGER
CHAPTERSEVENTEENKENNA
CHAPTEREIGHTEENLEDGER
CHAPTERNINETEENKENNA
CHAPTERTWENTYLEDGER
CHAPTERTWENTY-ONEKENNA
CHAPTERTWENTY-TWOLEDGER
CHAPTERTWENTY-THREEKENNA
CHAPTERTWENTY-FOURLEDGER
CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVEKENNA
CHAPTERTWENTY-SIXLEDGER
CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVENKENNA
CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHTLEDGER
CHAPTERTWENTY-NINEKENNA
CHAPTERTHIRTYLEDGER
CHAPTERTHIRTY-ONEKENNA
CHAPTERTHIRTY-TWOLEDGER
CHAPTERTHIRTY-THREEKENNA
CHAPTERTHIRTY-FOURKENNA
CHAPTERTHIRTY-FIVELEDGER
CHAPTERTHIRTY-SIXKENNA
CHAPTERTHIRTY-SEVENLEDGER
CHAPTERTHIRTY-EIGHTKENNA
CHAPTERTHIRTY-NINELEDGER
CHAPTERFORTYKENNA
CHAPTERFORTY-ONELEDGER
CHAPTERFORTY-TWOKENNA
EPILOGUE
KENNAROWAN’SPLAYLIST
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUTTHEAUTHORCHAPTERONE
KENNA
There’sasmallwoodencrossstakedintothegroundonthesideoftheroadwiththedateofhisdeathwrittenonit.
Scottywouldhateit.Ibethismotherputitthere.
“Canyoupullover?”
Thedriverslowsdownandbringsthecabtoastop.Igetoutandwalkbacktowherethecrossis.Ishakeitsidetosideuntilthedirtloosensaroundit,andthenIpullitoutoftheground.
Didhedieinthisveryspot?Ordidhedieintheroad?
Ididn’tpayattentiontothedetailsduringthepretrial.WhenIheardhehadcrawledseveralyardsawayfromthecar,IstartedhummingsoIwouldn’thearanythingelsetheprosecutorsaid.Then,toavoidhavingtositthroughdetailsifthecasewenttotrial,Ipleadedguilty.
Becausetechnically,Iwas.
Imaynothavekilledhimwithmyactions,butIdefinitelykilledhimwithmyinaction.
Ithoughtyouweredead,Scotty.Butdeadpeoplecan’tcrawl.
Iwalkbacktothecabwiththecrossinhand.Isetitonthebackseatnexttomeandwaitforthedrivertopullbackontotheroad,buthedoesn’t.Iglanceathimintherearviewmirror,andhe’sstaringatmewitharaisedbrow.
“Stealingroadsidememorialshastobesomekindofbadkarma.Yousureyouwanttotakethat?”
Ilookawayfromhimandlie.“Yes.I’mtheonewhoputitthere.”Icanstillfeelhimstaringatmeashepullsbackontotheroad.
Mynewapartmentisonlytwomilesfromhere,butit’sintheoppositedirectionfromwhereIusedtolive.Idon’thaveacar,soIdecidedtofindaplaceclosertodowntownthistimesoIcanwalktowork.IfIcanevenfindajob.It’llbedifficultwithmyhistoryandlackofexperience.And,accordingtothecabdriver,thebadkarmaI’mprobablycarryingaroundrightnow.
StealingScotty’smemorialmightbebadkarma,butonecouldarguethatleavingamemorialupforaguywhoverballyexpressedhishatredforroadsidememorialscouldbebadkarmaaswell.That’swhyIhadthedrivertakethedetourdownthisbackroad.IknewGraceprobablyleftsomethingatthelocationofthewreck,andIfeltIowedittoScottytoremoveit.
“Cashorcard?”thedriverasks.
Ilookatthemeterandpullcashandatipoutofmypurseandhandittohimafterheparks.ThenIgrabmysuitcaseandthewoodencrossIjuststoleandmakemywayoutofthecabanduptothebuilding.
Mynewapartmentisn’tpartofahugecomplex.It’sjustasingle-standingunitflankedbyanabandonedcarlotononesideandaconveniencestoreontheother.Plywoodcoversadownstairswindow.Beercansinvariousstagesofdecaylittertheproperty.Ikickoneasidesothatitdoesn’tgetstuckinthewheelsofmysuitcase.
Theplacelooksevenworsethanitdidonline,butIexpectedasmuch.Thelandlorddidn’tevenaskformynamewhenIcalledtoseeiftheyhadanyvacancies.Shesaid,“Wealwayshavevacancies.Bringcash;I’minapartmentone.”Thenshehungup.
Iknockonapartmentone.There’sacatinthewindowstaringatme.It’ssomotionlessIstarttowonderifit’sastatue,butthenitblinksandslinksaway.
Thedooropens,andanolder,tinywomanstaresupatmewithadisgruntledlookabouther.Shehascurlersinherhairandlipsticksmearedtohernose.“Idon’tneedanythingyou’reselling.”
Istareatthelipstick,notinghowit’sbleedingintothewrinkleshugginghermouth.“Icalledlastweekaboutanapartment.Yousaidyou’dhaveoneavailable.”
Recognitionflashesonthewoman’sprune-likeface.Shemakesahmphsoundwhilelookingmeupanddown.“Didn’texpectyoutolooklikethis.”
Idon’tknowwhattomakeofhercomment.IlookdownatmyjeansandT-shirtwhileshewalksawayfromthedoorforafewseconds.Shecomesbackwithazipperpouch.“Fivefiftyamonth.Firstandlastmonth’srentisduetoday.”
Icountoutthemoneyandhandittoher.“There’snolease?”
Shelaughs,stuffingthecashintoherpouch.“You’reinapartmentsix.”Shepointsafingerup.“That’srightaboveme,sokeepitdown,Igotobedearly.”
“Whatutilitiesareincluded?”
“Waterandtrash,butyoucoverelectric.It’sonnow—youhavethreedaystogetitswitchedintoyourname.Depositistwofiftytothelightcompany.”
Fuck.Threedaystocomeupwith$250?I’mstartingtoquestionmydecisiontocomebacksosoon,butwhenIwasreleasedfromtransitionalhousing,Ihadtwochoices:spendallmymoneytryingtosurviveinthattown,ordrivethethreehundredmilesandspendallmymoneyinthisone.
I’dratherbeinthetownthatholdsallthepeopleonceconnectedtoScotty.
Thewomantakesastepbackintoherapartment.“WelcometoParadiseApartments.I’llbringyouakittenonceyougetsettled.”
Iimmediatelyputmyhandonherdoortopreventherfromclosingit.“Wait.What?Akitten?”
“Yeah,akitten.Likeacat,butsmaller.”
Istepawayfromherdoorlikeit’llsomehowprotectmefromwhatshejustsaid.“No,thankyou.Idon’twantakitten.”
“Ihavetoomany.”
“Idon’twantakitten,”Irepeat.
“Whowouldn’twantakitten?”
“Me.”
Shehuffs,likemyresponseiscompletelyunreasonable.“I’llmakeyouadeal,”shesays.“I’llleavetheelectriconfortwoweeksifyoutakeakitten.”Whatinthehellkindofplaceisthis?“Fine,”shesays,respondingtomysilenceasifit’sanegotiationtactic.“Themonth.I’llleavetheelectriconforthewholemonthifyoujusttakeonekitten.”Shewalksintoherapartmentbutleavesthedooropen.
Idon’twantakittenatall,ever,butnothavingtospend$250onanelectricitydepositthismonthwouldbeworthseveralkittens.
Shereappearswithasmallblack-and-orangekitten.Sheplacesitinmyhands.“Thereyago.MynameisRuthifyouneedanything,buttrynottoneedanything.”Shegoestocloseherdooragain.
“Wait.CanyoutellmewhereIcanfindapayphone?”
Shechuckles.“Yeah,backin2005.”Sheclosesherdoorcompletely.
Thekittenmeows,butit’snotasweetmeow.Itsoundsmorelikeacryforhelp.“Youandmeboth,”Imutter.
Imakemywaytowardthestairswithmysuitcaseandmy…kitten.MaybeIshouldhaveheldoutafewmoremonthsbeforecomingbackhere.Iworkedtosaveupjustover$2,000,butmostofthatwasspentonmovinghere.Ishouldhavesavedupmore.WhatifIdon’tfindajobrightaway?AndnowI’mtaskedwiththeresponsibilityofkeepingakittenalive.
Mylifejustbecametentimesmoredifficultthanitwasyesterday.
Imakeituptotheapartmentwiththekittenclingingtomyshirt.Iinsertthekeyinthelockandhavetousebothhandstopullonthedoorandgetthekeytoturn.WhenIpushopenthedoortomynewapartment,Iholdmybreath,afraidofwhatit’sgoingtosmelllike.
Ifliponthelightswitchandlookaround,releasingmybreathslowly.There’snotmuchofasmell.That’sbothgoodandbad.
There’sacouchinthelivingroom,butthat’sliterallyallthereis.Asmalllivingroom,anevensmallerkitchen,nodiningroom.Nobedroom.It’sanefficiencyapartmentwithaclosetandabathroomsosmallthetoilettouchesthetub.
Theplaceisadump.Afive-hundred-square-footabsoluteshithole,butit’sastepupforme.I’vegonefromsharingaone-hundred-square-footcellwitharoommate,tolivingintransitionalhousingwithsixroommates,toafive-hundred-square-footapartmentIcancallmyown.
I’mtwenty-sixyearsold,andthisisthefirsttimeI’veeverofficiallylivedsomewherealone.It’sbothterrifyingandliberating.
Idon’tknowifIcanaffordthisplaceafterthemonthisup,butI’mgoingtotry.EvenifthatmeansapplyingtoeverybusinessIwalkpast.
HavingmyownapartmentcanonlyservetohelpasIpleadmycasetotheLandrys.It’llshowI’mindependentnow.Evenifthatindependencewillbeastruggle
Thekittenwantsdown,soIputheronthefloorinthelivingroom.Shewalksaround,cryingoutforwhoeversheleftdownstairs.IfeelapanginmychestasIwatchhersearchingcornersforawayout.Awaybackhome.Awaybacktohermotherandsiblings.
Shelookslikeabumblebee,orsomethingoutofHalloween,withherblackandorangesplotches.
“Whatarewegoingtonameyou?”
Iknowshe’llmorethanlikelybenamelessforafewdayswhileIthinkaboutit.Itaketheresponsibilityofnamingthingsveryseriously.ThelasttimeIwasresponsiblefornamingsomeone,ItookitmoreseriouslythanI’veevertakenanything.ThatcouldhavebeenbecausethewholetimeIsatinmycellduringmypregnancy,alltherewastodowasthinkaboutbabynames.
IchosethenameDiembecauseIknewassoonasIwasreleased,Iwasgoingtomakemywaybackhereanddoeverythinginmypowertofindher.
HereIam.
CarpeDiem.CHAPTERTWO
LEDGER
I’mpullingmytruckintothealleybehindthebarwhenInoticethenailpolishstillonthefingernailsofmyrighthand.Shit.IforgotIplayeddress-upwithafour-year-oldlastnight.
Atleastthepurplematchesmyworkshirt.
RomanistossingbagsoftrashintothedumpsterwhenIexitthetruck.Heseesthegiftsackinmyhandandknowsit’sforhim,sohereachesforit.“Letmeguess.Coffeemug?”Hepeeksinside.
It’sacoffeemug.Italwaysis.
Hedoesn’tsaythankyou.Heneverdoes.
Wedon’tacknowledgethesobrietythesemugssymbolize,butIbuyhimoneeveryFriday.Thisistheninety-sixthmugI’veboughthim.
Ishouldprobablystopbecausehisapartmentisfullofcoffeemugs,butI’mtoofarintogiveupnow.He’salmostatonehundredweekssober,andI’vebeenholdingontothatone-hundredth-milestonemugforawhilenow.It’saDenverBroncosmug.Hisleastfavoriteteam.
Romangesturestowardthebackdoorofthebar.“There’sacoupleinsideharassingothercustomers.Youmightwanttokeepaneyeonthem.”
That’sodd.Wedon’tnormallyhavetodealwithunrulypeoplethisearlyintheevening.Itisn’tevensixo’clockyet.“Wherearetheysitting?”
“Nexttothejukebox.”Hiseyesfalltomyhand.“Nicenails,man.”
“Right?”Iholdupmyhandandwigglemyfingers.“Shedidprettygoodforafour-year-old.”
IopenthebackdoorofthebarandammetwiththegratingsoundofmyfavoritesongbeingslaughteredbyUglyKidJoethroughtheloudspeakers.
Surelynot.
Iwalkthroughthekitchenandintothebarandimmediatelyspotthem.They’rehunchedoverthejukebox.Iquietlymakemywayovertothemandseeshe’spunchinginthesamefournumbersagainandagain.Ilookovertheirshouldersatthescreenwhiletheygigglelikemischievouschildren.“Cat’sintheCradle”issettoplaythirty-sixtimesinarow.
Iclearmythroat.“Youthinkthisisfunny?Forcingmetolistentothesamesongforthenextsixhours?”
Myfatherspinsaroundwhenhehearsmyvoice.“Ledger!”Hepullsmeinforahug.Hesmellslikebeerandmotoroil.Andlimes,maybe?Aretheydrunk?
Mymotherbacksawayfromthejukebox.“Weweretryingtofixit.Wedidn’tdothis.”
“Sure,youdidn’t.”Ipullherinforahug.
Theyneverannouncewhenthey’regoingtoshowup.TheyjustappearandstayadayortwoorthreeandthenheadoutintheirRVagain.
Theirshowingupdrunkisnew,though.Iglanceovermyshoulder,andRomanisbehindthebarnow.Ipointtomyparents.“Didyoudothistothem,ordidtheyshowupthisway?”
Romanshrugs.“Alittleofboth.”
“It’souranniversary,”mymothersays.“We’recelebrating.”
“Ihopeyouguysdidn’tdrivehere.”
“Wedidn’t,”myfathersays.“OurcariswiththeRVintheshopgettingroutinemaintenance,sowetookaLyft.”Hepatsmycheek.“Wantedtoseeyou,butwe’vebeenheretwohourswaitingforyoutoshowup,andnowwe’releavingbecausewe’rehungry.”
“Thisiswhyyoushouldwarnmebeforeyoudropintotown.Ihavealife.”
“Didyourememberouranniversary?”myfatherasks.
“Slippedmymind.Sorry.”
“Toldyou,”hesaystomymother.“Payup,Robin.”
Mymotherreachesintoherpocketandhandshimaten-dollarbill.
Theybetonalmosteverything.Mylovelife.WhichholidaysI’llremember.EveryfootballgameI’veeverplayed.ButI’malmostpositivethey’vejustbeenpassingthesameten-dollarbillbackandforthforseveralyears.
Myfatherholdsuphisemptyglassandshakesit.“Getusarefill,bartender.”
Itakehisglass.“Howaboutanicewater?”Ileavethematthejukeboxandmakemywaybehindthebar.
I’mpouringtwoglassesofwaterwhenagirlwalksintothebarlookingsomewhatlost.Sheglancesaroundtheroomlikeshe’sneverbeenherebefore,andthenwhenshenoticesanemptycornerattheoppositeendofthebar,shemakesabeelineforit.
Istareathertheentiretimeshe’swalkingthroughthebar.IstareathersohardIaccidentallyoverfilltheglassesandwatergoeseverywhere.Igrabatowelandwipeupmymess.WhenIlookatmymother,she’slookingatthegirl.Thenatme.Thenatthegirl.
Shit.ThelastthingIneedisforhertotrytosetmeupwithacustomer.Shetriestoplaymatchmakerplentywhenshe’ssober,soIcan’timaginehowbadthetendencymightbeafterafewdrinks.Ineedtogetthemoutofhere.
Itakethewaterstothemandthenhandmymothermycreditcard.“YouguysshouldgodowntoJake’sSteakhouseandhavedinneronme.Walktheresoyoucansoberupontheway.”
“Youaresonice.”Sheclutchesatherchestdramaticallyandlooksatmyfather.“Benji,wedidsowellwithhim.Let’sgocelebrateourparentingwithhiscreditcard.”
“Wediddowellwithhim,”myfathersaysinagreement.“Weshouldhavemorekids.”
“Menopause,honey.RememberwhenIhatedyouforanentireyear?”Mymothergrabsherpurse,andtheytaketheglassesofwaterwiththemastheygo.
“Weshouldgetribeyesincehe’spaying,”myfathermuttersastheywalkaway.
Ireleaseasighofreliefandthenmakemywaybacktothebar.Thegirlistuckedquietlyintothecorner,writinginanotebook.Romanisn’tbehindthebarrightnow,soI’massumingnoonehastakenherorderyet.
Igladlyvolunteerastribute.
“WhatcanIgetyou?”Iaskher.
“WaterandaDietCoke,please.”Shedoesn’tlookupatme,soIbackawaytofulfillherorder.She’sstillwritinginhernotebookwhenIreturnwithherdrinks.Itrytogetaglimpseofwhatshe’swriting,butshecloseshernotebookandliftshereyes.“Thank…”ShepausesinthemiddleofwhatIthinkisherattemptatsayingthankyou.Shemuttersthewordyouandsticksthestrawinhermouth.
Sheseemsflustered.
Iwanttoaskherquestions,likewhathernameisandwhereshe’sfrom,butI’velearnedovertheyearsofowningthisplacethataskingquestionsoflonelypeopleinabarcanquicklyturnintoconversationsIhavetomaulmywayoutof.
Butmostofthepeoplewhocomeinheredon’tcapturemyattentionlikeshehas.Igesturetowardhertwodrinksandsay,“Areyouwaitingforsomeoneelse?”
Shepullsbothdrinkscloser.“Nope.Justthirsty.”Shebreakseyecontactwithmeandleansbackinherchair,pullinghernotebookwithherandgivingitallherattention.
Icantakeahint.Iwalktotheotherendofthebartogiveherprivacy.
Romanreturnsfromthekitchenandnudgeshisheadinherdirection.“Who’sshe?”
“Idon’tknow,butsheisn’twearingaweddingring,soshe’snotyourtype.”
“Veryfunny.”CHAPTERTHREE
KENNA
DearScotty,
Theyturnedtheoldbookstoreintoabar.Canyoubelievethatshit?
IwonderwhattheydidwiththesofaweusedtositoneverySunday.
Iswear,it’slikethiswholetownisonehugeMonopolyboard,andafteryoudied,someonecamealongandpickeduptheboardandscrambledallthepiecesaround.
Nothingisthesame.Everythingseemsunfamiliar.I’vebeenwalkingarounddowntowntakingitallinforthelastcoupleofhours.IwasonmywaytothegrocerystorewhenIgotsidetrackedbythebenchweusedtoeaticecreamon.Isatdownandpeoplewatchedforawhile.
Everyoneseemssocarefreeinthistown.Thepeopleherejustwanderaroundliketheirworldsareright-side-up—liketheyaren’tabouttofalloffthepavementandlandinthesky.Theyjustmovefromonemomenttothenext,notevenawareofthemotherswalkingaroundwithouttheirdaughters.
Iprobablyshouldn’tbeinabar,especiallymyfirstnightback.NotthatIhaveanissuewithalcohol.Thatonehorriblenightwasanexception.ButthelastthingIneedyourparentstofindoutisthatIstoppedbyabarbeforeIstoppedbytheirhouse.
ButIthoughtthisplacewasstillthebookstore,andbookstoresusuallyhavecoffee.IwassodisappointedwhenIwalkedinsidebecauseit’sbeenalongdayoftravelinghereonabusandthenthecab.Iwashopingformorecaffeinethanadietsodacanprovide.
Maybethebarhascoffee.Ihaven’taskedyet.
Iprobablyshouldn’ttellyouthis,andIpromiseit’llmakesensebeforeIfinishthisletter,butIkissedaprisonguardonce.
WegotcaughtandhegottransferredtoadifferentunitandIfeltguiltythatourkissgothimintrouble.ButhetalkedtomelikeIwasapersonandnotanumber,andeventhoughIwasn’tattractedtohim,Iknewhewasattractedtome,sowhenheleanedintokissme,Ikissedhimback.Itwasmywayofsayingthankyou,andIthinkheknewthat,andhewasokaywithit.IthadbeentwoyearssinceIhadbeentouchedbyyou,sowhenhepressedmeagainstthewallandgrippedmywaist,IthoughtI’dfeelmore.
IwassadthatIdidn’t.
I’mtellingyouthisbecausehetastedlikecoffee,butabetterkindofcoffeethantheprisoncoffeetheyservedtotheprisoners.Hetastedlikeexpensiveeight-dollarcoffeefromStarbucks,withcaramelandwhippedcreamandacherry.It’swhyIkeptkissinghim.NotbecauseIenjoyedthekiss,orhim,orhishandonmywaist,butbecauseImissedexpensiveflavoredcoffee.
Andyou.Imissexpensivecoffeeandyou.
Love,
Kenna
“Youwantarefill?”thebartenderasks.Hehastattoosthatslideallthewayintohisshirtsleeves.Hisshirtisdeeppurple,acoloryoudon’tseeinprisonveryoften.
IneverthoughtaboutthatuntilIwasthere,butprisonisreallydrabandcolorless,andafterawhile,youstarttoforgetwhatthetreeslooklikeinthefall.
“Doyouhavecoffee?”Iask.
“Sure.Creamandsugar?”
“Doyouhavecaramel?Andwhippedcream?”
Hetossesaragontohisshoulder.“Youbet.Soy,skim,almond,orwholemilk?”
“Whole.”
Thebartenderlaughs.“Iwaskidding.Thisisabar;Ihaveafour-hour-oldpotofcoffeeandyourchoiceofcreamorsugarorbothornone.”
Thecolorofhisshirtandthewayitcomplementshisskintonearenolongerimpressive.Asshole.“Justgivemewhatever,”Imutter.
Thebartenderbacksawaytoretrievemybasicprisoncoffee.Iwatchasheliftsthepotoutoftheholderandbringsitclosetohisnosetosniffit.Hemakesaface,thendumpsitoutinthesink.Heflicksthewateronwhilerefillingaguy’sbeerwhilestartinganewpotofcoffeewhileclosingoutsomeoneelse’stabwhilesmilingjustenoughbutnottoomuch.
I’veneverseensomeonemovesofluidly,likehehassevenarmsandthreebrainsandthey’reallgoingatonce.It’smesmerizingwatchingsomeonewho’sgoodatwhattheydo.
Idon’tknowwhatI’mgoodat.Idon’tknowthatthereisanythinginthisworldIcouldmakelookeffortless.
TherearethingsIwanttobegoodat.Iwanttobeagoodmother.Tomyfuturekids,butmostlytothedaughterIalreadybroughtintothisworld.IwanttohaveayardthatIcanplantstuffin.Stuffthatwillflourishandnotdie.IwanttolearnhowtotalktopeoplewithoutwishingIcouldretracteverywordIsaid.Iwanttobegoodatfeelingthingswhenaguytouchesmywaist.Iwanttobegoodatlife.Iwanttomakeitlookeffortless,butupuntilthispoint,I’vemadeeveryaspectoflifeappearentirelytoodifficulttonavigate.
Thebartenderglidesbacktomewhenthecoffeeisready.Ashe’sfillingthemug,IlookathimandactuallyabsorbwhatI’mseeingthistime.He’sgoodlookinginawaythatagirlwhoistryingtogetcustodyofherdaughtershouldwanttostayawayfrom.He’sgoteyesthathaveseenathingortwo,andhandsthathaveprobablyhitamanortwo.
Hishairisfluidlikehismovements.Long,darkstrandsthathanginhiseyesandmoveinwhateverdirectionhemoves.Hedoesn’ttouchhishair;hehasn’tsinceI’vebeensittinghere.Hejustletsitgetinhisway,butthenhe’llflickhisheadeverynowandthen,theslightestlittlemovement,andhishairgoeswhereheneedsitto.It’sthickhair,agreeablehair,want-my-hands-in-his-hairhair.
Mymugisfullofcoffeenow,butheliftsafingerandsays,“Onesec.”Heswivelsandopensaminifridgeandthenpullsoutwholemilk.Hepourssomeintothemug.Heputsthemilkback,opensanotherfridge—surprise,whippedcream.Hereachesbehindhim,andwhenhishandreappears,he’sholdingasinglecherrythatheplacescarefullyontopofmydrink.Heslidesitclosertomeandspreadsouthisarmslikehejustcreatedmagic.
“Nocaramel,”hesays.“BestIcoulddofornot-a-coffee-shop.”
Heprobablythinkshejustmadeabougiedrinkforaspoiledgirlwho’susedtohavingeight-dollarcoffeeeveryday.Hehasnoideahowlongit’sbeensinceI’vehadadecentcupofcoffee.EveninthemonthsIspentintransitionalhousing,theyservedprisoncoffeetotheprisongirlswithprisonpasts.
Icouldcry.
Idocry.
Assoonashegiveshisattentiontosomeoneattheotherendofthebar,Itakeadrinkofmycoffeeandclosemyeyesandcrybecauselifecanbesofuckingcruelandhard,andI’vewantedtoquitlivingitsomanytimes,butthenmomentsliketheseremindmethathappinessisn’tsomepermanentthingwe’realltryingtoachieveinlife,it’smerelyathingthatshowsupeverynowandthen,sometimesintinydosesthatarejustsubstantialenoughtokeepusgoing.CHAPTERFOUR
LEDGER
Iknowwhattodowhenachildcries,butIdon’tknowwhattodowhenagrownwomancries.IstayasfarawayfromherasIcanwhileshedrinkshercoffee.
Ihaven’tlearnedmuchabouthersinceshewalkedinhereanhourago,butonethingIknowforcertainisshedidn’tcomeheretomeetanyone.Shecamehereforsolitude.Threepeoplehavetriedtoapproachherinthelasthour,andsheheldupahandandshotthemdownwithoutmakingeyecontactwithanyofthem.
Shedrankhercoffeeinsilence.It’sbarelysevenintheevening,soshemightjustbeworkingherwayuptothehardstuff.Ikindofhopenot.I’mintriguedbytheideathatshecametoabartoorderthingswerarelyservewhileturningdownmensheneverevenmadeeyecontactwith.
RomanandIaretheonlyonesworkinguntilMaryAnneandRazigethere.Theplaceisgettingbusier,soIcan’tgivehertheattentionIwanttogiveher,whichisallmyattention.Imakeitapointtospreadmyselfoutjustenoughsothatitdoesn’tseemlikeI’minherspacetoomuch.
Assoonasshefinishesthecoffee,Iwanttoaskherwhatshe’shavingnext,butinsteadImakehersitwithheremptymugforagoodtenminutes.ImightmakeitfifteenbeforeIworkmywaybacktoher.
Inthemeantime,Ijuststealglancesather.Herfaceisaworkofart.IwishtherewasapictureofithangingonawallinamuseumsomewheresoIcouldstandinfrontofitandstareatitforaslongasIwanted.Instead,I’mjustgettinginpeekshereandthere,admiringhowallthesamepiecesofafacethatmakeupalltheotherfacesintheworldjustseemtocoordinatebetteronher.
Peoplerarelycometoabaratthestartofaweekendeveninginsucharawstate,butsheisn’tdressedup.She’swearingafadedMountainDewT-shirtandjeans,butthegreenintheshirtmatchesthegreeninhereyeswithsuchperfectionit’sasifsheputallhereffortintofindingtheperfectcolorofT-shirt,whenI’mprettysureshegavethatshirtnothoughtatall.Herhairisrusset.Allonesturdycolor.Allonelength,rightbelowherchin.Sheslidesherhandsthroughiteverynowandthen,andeverytimeshedoes,itlookslikeshe’sabouttofoldinonherself.Itmakesmewanttowalkaroundthebarandliftherupandgiveherahug.
What’sherstory?
Idon’twanttoknow.
Idon’tneedtoknow.
Idon’tdategirlsImeetinthisbar.TwiceI’vebrokenthatrule,andtwiceit’sbittenmeintheass.
Besides,there’ssomethingterrifyingaboutthisone.Ican’tquiteputmyfingeronit,butwhenItalktoher,Ifeellikemyvoiceistrappedinmychest.AndnotinawaythatI’mleftbreathlessbyher,butinamoresubstantialway,asthoughmybrainiswarningmenottointeractwithher.
Redflag!Danger!Abort!
Butwhy?
WemakeeyecontactwhenIreachforhermug.Shehasn’tlookedatanyoneelsetonight.Onlyme.Ishouldfeelflattered,butIfeelscared.
Iplayedprofessionalfootballandownabar,yetI’mscaredofalittleeyecontactwithaprettygirl.ThatshouldbemyTinderbio.PlayedfortheBroncos.Ownsabar.Scaredofeyecontact.
“Whatnext?”Iaskher.
“Wine.White.”
It’sahardbalanceowningabarandbeingsober.Iwanteveryoneelsetobesober,butIalsoneedcustomers.Ipourhertheglassofwineandsetitinfrontofher.
Iremainnearher,pretendingtousearagtodryglassesthathavebeendrysinceyesterday.Inoticetheslowrollofherthroatasshestaresdownattheglassofwine,almostasifshe’sunsure.Thatsplitsecondofhesitation,ormaybeit’sregret,isenoughtomakemethinkshemightstrugglewithalcohol.Icanalwaystellwhenpeoplearetossingawaytheirsobrietybyhowtheylookattheirglass.
Drinkingisonlystressfultoalcoholics.
Shedoesn’tdrinkthewine,though.Shequietlysipsonthesodauntilit’sempty.Ireachfortheemptyglassatthesametimeshedoes.
Whenourfingerstouch,Ifeelsomethingelsetrappedinmychestotherthanmyvoice.Maybeit’safewextraheartbeats.Maybeit’saneruptingvolcano.
Herfingersrecoilfrommineandsheputsherhandsinherlap.Ipulltheemptyglassofsodaawayfromher,aswellasthefullglassofwine,andshedoesn’tevenlookuptoaskmewhy.Shesighs,likemaybeshe’srelievedItookthewineaway.Whydidsheevenorderit?
Irefillhersoda,andwhensheisn’tlooking,Ipourthewineinthesinkandwashtheglass.
Shesipsfromthesodaforawhile,buttheeyecontactstops.MaybeIupsether
Romannoticesmestaringather.Heleansanelbowontothecounterandsays,“Divorceordeath?”
Romanalwayslikestoguessthereasonspeoplecomeinaloneandseemoutofplace.Thegirldoesn’tseemlikeshe’sherebecauseofadivorce.Womenusuallycelebratethosebycomingtobarswithgroupsoffriends,wearingsashesthatsayEx-Wife
Thisgirldoesseemsad,butnotsadinawaythatwouldindicateshe’sgrieving.
“I’mgonnasaydivorce,”Romansays.
Idon’trespondtohim.Idon’tfeelrightguessinghertragedy,becauseI’mhopingitisn’tdivorceordeathorevenabadday.Iwantgoodthingsforherbecauseitseemslikeshehasn’thadagoodthinginalong,longtime.
IstopstaringatherwhileItendtoothercustomers.Idoittogiveherprivacy,butsheusesitasanopportunitytoleavecashonthebarandsneakout.
Istareforseveralsecondsatheremptybarstoolandtheten-dollartipsheleft.She’sgoneandIdon’tknowhernameandIdon’tknowherstoryandIdon’tknowthatI’lleverseeheragain,sohereIam,rushingaroundthebar,throughthebar,towardthefrontdoorshejustslippedoutof.
TheskyisonfirewhenIwalkoutside.Ishieldmyeyes,forgettinghowassaultingthelightalwaysiswhenIstepoutofthebarbeforedark.
SheturnsaroundrightwhenIspother.She’sabouttenfeetfromme.Shedoesn’thavetoshieldhereyesbecausethesunisbehindher,outliningherheadlikeit’stoppedwithahalo.
“Ileftmoneyonthebar,”shesays.
“Iknow.”
Westareateachotherforaquietmoment.Idon’tknowwhattosay.Ijuststandherelikeafool.
“What,then?”
“Nothing,”Isay.ButIimmediatelywishIwouldhavesaid,“Everything.”
Shestaresatme,andIneverdothis,Ishouldn’tdothis,butIknowifIletherwalkaway,Iwon’tbeabletostopthinkingaboutthesadgirlwholeftmeaten-dollartipwhenIgetthefeelingshecan’taffordtoleavemeatipatall.
“Youshouldcomebacktonightateleven.”Idon’tgiveherachancetotellmenoorexplainwhyshecan’t.Igobackinsidethebar,hopingmyrequestmakeshercuriousenoughtoshowbackuptonight.CHAPTERFIVE
KENNA
I’msittingonaninflatablemattresswithmyunnamedkitten,contemplatingallthereasonsIshouldn’tgobacktothatbar.
Ididn’tcomebacktothistowntomeetguys.Evenguysasgoodlookingasthatbartender.I’mhereformydaughterandthat’sit.
Tomorrowisimportant.TomorrowIneedtofeelHerculean,butthebartenderunintentionallymademefeelweakbypullingawaymyglassofwine.Idon’tknowwhathesawonmyfacethatmadehimwanttotakethewineawayfromme.Iwasn’tgoingtodrinkit.IonlyordereditsoIcouldfeelasenseofcontrolinnotdrinkingit.IwantedtolookatitandsmellitandthenwalkawayfromitfeelingstrongerthanwhenIsatdown.
NowIjustfeelunsettledbecausehesawhowIwaslookingatthewineearlier,andthewayhepulleditawaymakesmethinkheassumesIhaveanactiveissuewithalcohol.
Idon’t.Ihaven’thadalcoholinyearsbecauseonenightofalcoholmixedwithatragedyruinedthelastfiveyearsofmylife,andthelastfiveyearsofmylifehaveledmebacktothistown,andthistownmakesmenervous,andtheonlythingthatcalmsmynervesisdoingthingsthatmakemefeellikeI’mstillincontrolofmylifeandmydecisions.
That’swhyIwantedtoturndownthewine,dammit.
NowI’mnotgoingtosleepwelltonight.Ihavenoreasontofeelaccomplishedbecausehemademefeelthecompleteopposite.IfIwanttosleepwelltonight,I’mgoingtoneedtoturndownsomethingelseIwant.
Orsomeone
Ihaven’twantedanyoneinalong,longtime.NotsinceIfirstmetScotty.Butthebartenderwaskindofhot,andhehadagreatsmile,andhemakesgreatcoffee,andhealreadyinvitedmetocomeback,soit’llbesimpletoshowupandturnhimdown.
ThenI’llsleepwellandbepreparedtowakeupandfacethemostimportantdayofmylife.
IwishIcouldtakemynewkittenwithme.IfeellikeIneedasidekick,butshe’sasleeponthenewpillowIboughtatthestoreearlier.
Ididn’tbuymuch.Theinflatablemattress,acoupleofpillowsandsheets,somecrackersandcheese,andsomecatfoodandlitter.IdecidedI’monlygoingtolivetwodaysatatimeinthistown.UntilIknowwhattomorrowwillbring,there’snosenseinmywastinganyofthemoneyI’vebeenworkingsixmonthstosaveup.I’malreadyrunninglow,whichiswhyIchoosenottocallacab.
Ileavetheapartmenttowalkbacktothebar,butIdon’tcarrymypurseormynotebookwithmethistime.Ijustneedmydriver’slicenseandmyapartmentkey.It’saboutamile-and-a-halfwalkfrommyapartmenttothebar,butit’sniceoutandtheroadiswelllit.
I’malittleconcernedthatsomeonemightrecognizemeatthebar,orevenonmywalkthere,butIlookcompletelydifferentthanIdidfiveyearsago.Iusedtocaremoreaboutself-maintenance,butfiveyearsinprisonhasmademelessconcernedabouthairdyeandextensionsandfalselashesandartificialnails.
Ididn’tliveinthistownlongenoughtomakemanyfriendsoutsideofScotty,soIdoubtmanypeopleevenknowwhoIam.I’msureplentyofthemknowofme,butit’shardtoberecognizedwhenyouaren’tevenmissed.
PatrickandGracemightrecognizemeiftheysawme,butIonlymetthemoncebeforegoingtoprison.
Prison.I’llnevergetusedtosayingthatword.It’ssuchahardwordtosayoutloud.Whenyoulaythelettersoutonpaperindividually,theydon’tseemthatharsh.Butwhenyousaythewordoutloud,“Prison,”it’sjustsodamnsevere.
WhenIthinkaboutwhereI’vebeenforthelastfiveyears,Iliketorefertoitinmyheadasthefacility.OrI’llthinkofmytimethereasWhenIwasaway,andleaveitatthat.Tosay“WhenIwasinprison”isnotsomethingI’llevergetusedto.
I’llhavetosayitthisweekwhenIlookforajob.They’llask,“Haveyoueverbeenconvictedofacrime?”I’llhavetosay,“Yes,Ispentfiveyearsinprisonforinvoluntarymanslaughter.”
Andthey’lleitherhiremeortheywon’t.Theyprobablywon’t.
There’sadoublestandardforwomen,evenbehindbars.Whenwomensaythey’vebeentoprison,peoplethinktrash,whore,addict,thief.Butwhenmensaythey’vebeentoprison,peopleaddbadgesofhonortothenegativethoughts,liketrash,butbadass,addict,buttough,thief,butimpressive
There’sstillastigmawiththemen,butthewomennevergetoutwithstigmasandbadgesofhonor.
Accordingtotheclockonthecourthouse,Imakeitbackdowntownateleventhirty.Hopefullyhe’sstillhereeventhoughI’mhalfanhourlate.
Ididn’tpayattentiontothenameofthebarearlier,probablybecauseitwasdaylightoutandIwasshockeditwasnolongerabookstore,butthere’sasmallneonsignabovethedoorthatreadsWARD’s
Ihesitatebeforegoingbackinside.Myreturnpresenceismoreorlesssendingthisguyamessage.AmessageI’mnotsureIwanthimtoreceive.Butthealternativeismygoingbacktothatapartmentandbeingalonewithmythoughts.
I’vespentenoughtimealonewithmythoughtsoverthepastfiveyears.I’mcravingpeopleandnoiseandallthethingsIhaven’thad,andmyapartmentremindsmealittleofprison.There’salotoflonelinessandsilencethere.
Iopenthedoorofthebar.It’slouderandsmokierandsomehowdarkerthanitwasearlier.Therearenoemptyseats,soIweavethroughpeople,findtherestroom,waitinthehall,waitoutside,weavesomemore.Finally,aboothopensup.Icrosstheroomandsitinitalone.
Iwatchthebartenderflowbehindthebar.Ilikehowunbotheredheseems.Twoguysgetintoanargument,buthedoesn’tcare—hejustpointstothedoorandtheyleave.Hedoesthatalot.Pointsatthings,andpeoplejustdothethingshepointsoutforthemtodo.
Hepointsattwocustomerswhilemakingeyecontactwiththeotherbartender.Thatbartenderwalksuptothemandclosesouttheirtabs.
Hepointstoanemptyshelf,andoneofthewaitressesnods,andthenafewminuteslatershehastheshelfrestocked.
Hepointsatthefloor,andtheotherbartenderdisappearsthroughthedoubledoorsandreappearswithamoptocleanupaspill.
Hepointstoahookonthewall,andanotherwaitress,apregnantone,mouths,“Thankyou,”andshehangsupherapronandgoeshome.
Hepoints,andpeopledo,andthenit’slastcall,andthenit’stimetoclose.Peopletrickleout.Noonetricklesin.
Hehasn’tlookedatme.Notevenonce.
Isecond-guessbeinghere.Heseemsbusy,andmaybeIreadhimwrongearlier.Ijustassumedwhenhetoldmetocomebackthathesaiditforareason,butmaybehetellsallhiscustomersthat.
Istandup,thinkingmaybeIneedtotrickleout,too,butwhenheseesmestand,hepoints.Hemakesasimplemotionwithhisfinger,indicatingformetositbackdown,soIdo.
I’mrelievedtoknowmyintuitionwasright,buttheemptierthebargets,themorenervousIgrow.HeassumesI’magrown-asswoman,butIbarelyfeellikeanadult.I’matwenty-six-year-oldteenager,inexperienced,startingfromscratch.
I’mnotsureI’mherefortherightreasons.IthoughtIcouldjustwalkin,flirtwithhim,andthenwalkaway,buthe’smoretemptingthananybougiecoffee.Icameheretoturnhimdown,butIhadnoideathathewouldbepointingallnight,orthathewouldpointatme.Ihadnoideapointingwassexy.
IwonderifIwouldhavefounditsexyfiveyearsago,orifI’mpatheticallyeasytopleasenow.
Bymidnight,we’retheonlytwopeopleleft.Theotheremployeeshavegone,thedoorisnowlocked,andhe’scarryingacaseofemptyglassestotheback.
Ipullmylegupandwrapmyarmsaroundit.I’mnervous.Ididn’tcomebacktothistowntomeetaguy.I’minthistownwithamuchbiggerpurpose.Onehelookslikehecouldderailwiththepointofafinger.
I’monlyhuman,though.Humansneedcompanions,andeventhoughIdidn’treturntothistowntomeetpeople,thisguyishardtoignore.
Hewalksthroughthedoubledoorswithadifferentshirton.He’snolongerwearingthepurplecollaredshirtwiththerolled-upsleevesthatalltheotheremployeeswerewearing.HeputonawhiteT-shirt.Sosimple,butsocomplicated.
Hesmileswhenhereachesme,andIfeelthatsmileslipovermewiththewarmthofaweightedblanket.“Youcameback.”
Itrytoactunaffected.“Youaskedmeto.”
“Youwantsomethingtodrink?”
“I’mokay.”
Hetoucheshishairnow,pushingitback,staringdownatme.There’sawarinhiseyes,andIambynomeansSwitzerland,buthecomestomeanyway.Sitsnexttome.Rightnexttome.Myheartbeatsfaster,evenfasterthanwhenScottycametomyregisterforafourthtimeallthoseyearsago.
“What’syourname?”heasks.
Idon’twanthimtoknowmyname.HelookslikehecouldbetheageScottywouldbenowifScottywerealive,whichmeanshemightrecognizemyname,orme,orrememberwhathappened.Idon’twantanyonetoknowme,orremember,orwarntheLandrysthatI’mintown.
Itisn’tasmalltown,butitisn’thugeeither.Mypresencewon’tgounnoticedforlong.Ijustneedittogounnoticedforlongenough,soIlie,sortof,andgivehimmymiddlename.“Nicole.”
Idon’taskhimwhathisnameisbecauseIdon’tcare.I’llneveruseit.I’llnevercomebackhereaftertonight.
Ipullatastrandofmyhair,nervousatbeingsoclosetosomeoneaftersolong.IfeellikeI’veforgottenwhattodo,soIjustblurtoutwhatIcameheretosay.“Iwasn’tgoingtodrinkit.”
Hetiltshishead,confusedbymyconfession,soIclarify.
“Thewine.SometimesI…”Ishakemyhead.“It’sdumb,butIdothisthingwhereIorderalcoholspecificallytowalkawayfromit.Idon’thaveadrinkingproblem.It’smorelikeanissuewithcontrol,Ithink.Makesmefeellessweak.”
Hiseyesscanmyfacewiththeslightesthintofasmile.“Irespectthat,”hesays.“Irarelydrinkforsimilarreasons.I’marounddrunkpeopleeverynight,andthemoreI’maroundthem,thelessIwanttobeamongthem.”
“Abartenderwhodoesn’tdrink?That’srare.Right?I’dthinkbartenderswouldhaveoneofthehighestratesofalcoholism.Easyaccess.”
“That’sactuallytheconstructionindustry.Whichprobablyisn’tgoodformyodds.I’vebeenbuildingahouseforseveralyearsnow.”
“You’rereallysettingyourselfupforfailure.”
Hesmiles.“Looksthatway.”Herelaxesintotheboothalittlemore.“Whatdoyoudo,Nicole?”
ThisisthemomentIshouldwalkaway.BeforeIsaytoomuch,beforeheasksmorequestions.ButIlikehisvoiceandhispresence,andIfeellikestayingherewouldbedistracting,andIreallyneedadistractionrightnow.
Ijustdon’twanttotalk.Talkingwillonlygetmeintroubleinthistown.
“DoyoureallywanttoknowwhatIdoforaliving?”I’msurehe’dratherhavehishandupmyshirtthanhearwhateveritisagirlwouldsayinthismoment.AndsinceIdon’twanttoadmitthatIdonothingforalivingbecauseI’vebeenlockedupforfiveyears,Islideontohislap.
Itsurpriseshim,almostasifhereallydidexpectustosithereandchatforthenexthour.
Hisexpressionchangesfrommildshocktoacceptance.Hishandsfalltomyhips,andhegripsthem.Ishiverfromthecontact.
HeadjustsmesothatI’msittingalittlefartherup,andIcanfeelhimthroughhisjeans,andI’msuddenlynotasconfidentthatIcanwalkawayasIwasfivesecondsago.IthoughtIcouldkisshimandthentellhimgoodnightandsaunterhomewithpride.Ijustwantedtofeelalittlebitpowerfulbeforetomorrow,butnowhe’sdragginghisfingersacrosstheskinonmywaist,andit’smakingmeweakerandweaker,andsofuckingthoughtless.Notthoughtlessasinuncaring,butthoughtlessasinemptyinsidemyhead,andfeelingeverythinginmychest,likeaballoffireisbuildinginsideofme.
Hisrighthandslidesupmyback,andIgaspbecauseIfeelhistouchsurgethroughmelikeacurrent.Thisguyistouchingmyfacenow,runninghisfingersdownmycheekbone,andthenhisfingertipsacrossmylips.He’sstaringatmelikehe’stryingtofigureoutwhereheknowsmefrom.
Maybethat’sjustmyparanoiaatwork.
“Whoareyou?”hewhispers.
Ialreadytoldhim,butIrepeatmymiddlenameanyway.“Nicole.”
Hesmilesbutthenlosesthesmileandsays,“Iknowyourname.Butwhere’dyoucomefrom?Whyhavewenevermetbeforetonight?”
Idon’twanthisquestions.Ihavenohonestanswers.Imovealittleclosertohismouth.“Whoareyou?”
“Ledger,”hesays,rightbeforeheripsopenmypast,pullsoutwhat’sleftofmyheart,dropsitonthefloor,andthenkissesme.
Peoplesayyoufallinlove,butfallissuchasadwordwhenyouthinkaboutit.Fallsarenevergood.Youfallontheground,youfallbehind,youfalltoyourdeath.
Whoeverwasthefirstpersontosaytheyfellinlovemusthavealreadyfallenoutofit.Otherwise,they’dhavecalleditsomethingmuchbetter.
Scottytoldmehelovedmehalfwayintoourrelationship.ItwasthenightIwassupposedtomeethisbestfriendforthefirsttime.Ihadalreadymethisparents,andhewasexcitedforthat,butnotnearlyasexcitedashewastointroducemetotheguyheconsideredabrother.
Thatmeetingneverhappened.Ican’trememberwhy;it’sbeenalongtime.Buthisfriendhadtocancel,andScottywassad,soIbakedhimcookiesandwesmokedajointandthenIgavehimhead.Bestgirlfriendever.
UntilIkilledhim.
Butthiswasthreemonthsbeforehewoulddie,andonthatparticularnight,eventhoughhewassad,hewasverymuchalive.Hehadabeatingheartandarapidpulseandaheavingchestandtearsinhiseyeswhenhesaid,“Ifuckingloveyou,Kenna.IloveyoumorethanI’veeverlovedanyone.Imissyouallthetime,evenwhenwe’retogether.”
Thatstuckwithme.“Imissyouallthetime,evenwhenwe’retogether.”
AndIthoughtthatwastheonlythingthatstuckwithmethatnight,butIwaswrong.Somethingelsestuckwithme.Aname.Ledger.
Thebestfriendwhonevershowed.ThebestfriendInevergottomeet.
Thebestfriendwhojustputhistongueinmymouthandhishandupmyshirtandhisnameinmychest.CHAPTERSIX
LEDGER
Idon’tunderstandattraction.
Whatisitthatdrawspeopletoeachother?HowcandozensofwomenwalkthroughthedoorstothisbareveryweekandIdon’tfeeltheurgetogiveanyofthemasecondglance?Butthenthisgirlwaltzesin,andIcan’ttakemyfuckingeyesoffher.
NowIcan’ttakemymouthoffher.
Idon’tknowwhyI’mbreakingmyself-imposedrule:“nopursuingcustomers.”Butthere’ssomethingaboutherthatindicatesI’llonlyhaveonechance.Igetthefeelingshe’seitherpassingthroughtownordoesn’tplanoncomingbackinhere.Tonightseemslikeanexceptiontowhateverhernormalroutinemaybe,andIfeellikeskippinganopportunitytobewithherwillbethatoneregretinlifeI’llstillthinkbackonwhenI’manoldman.
Sheseemslikeaquietperson,butnottheshykindofquiet.She’squietinafierceway—astormthatsneaksuponyou,andyoudon’tknowit’sthereuntilyoufeelthethunderrattleyourbones.
She’squiet,butshe’ssaidjustenoughtomakemewanttherestofherwords.Shetasteslikeapples,eventhoughshehadcoffeeearlier,andapplesaremyfavoritefruit.They’reprobablymyfavoritefoodperiod,now.
Wekissforseveralseconds,andeventhoughshemadethefirstmove,shestillseemedsurprisedwhenIpulledhertomymouth.
Maybesheexpectedmetowaitalittlelongerbeforetastingher,ormaybeshewasn’texpectingittofeellikethis—Ihopeitfeelslikethisforher—butwhatevercausedthattinygasprightbeforemymouthmethers,itwasn’tbecauseshedidn’twantthekiss.
Shepullsaway,brieflyindecisive,butthensheseemstomakeuphermindbecausesheleansinandkissesmeagainwithevenmoreconviction.
Thatconvictiondisappears,though.Toofast.Shepullsawayforasecondtime,andthistimehereyesarefullofregret.Sheshakesherheadquicklyandplacesherpalmsonmychest.Icoverherhandswithminerightwhenshesays,“I’msorry.”
Sheslidesoffme,theinsideofherthighrubbingacrossmyzipper,makingmeevenharder,asshescootsoutofthebooth.Ireachforherhand,butherfingerstrickleoutofmineasshebacksawayfromthetable.“Ishouldn’thavecomeback.”
Sheturnsawayfrommeandheadstowardthedoor.
Ideflate.
Ididn’tcommitherfacetomemory,andIdon’tlikethethoughtofherleavingwithoutme,beingabletoremembertheexactshapeofthemouththatwasjustonmine.
Ipushoutoftheboothandfollowher.
Shecan’tgetthedooropen.Shejigglesthehandleandtriestopushitlikeshecan’tgetawayfrommefastenough.Iwanttobeghertostay,butIalsowanttohelphergetawayfromme,soIpulldownonthetoplockwhilereachinginfrontofherwithmyfoottopushuponthefloorlock.Thedooropensandshespillsoutside.
Sheinhalesabiggulpofairandthenspinsandfacesme.Iscanhermouth,wishingIhadaphotographicmemory.
Hereyesarenolongerthesamecolorashershirt.They’realightergreennowbecauseshe’stearingup.OnceagainIfindmyselfnotknowingwhattodo.I’veneverseenagirlsoallovertheplaceinsuchashortamountoftime,andnoneofitfeelsforcedordramatic.Witheverymoveshemakesandeveryfeelingshehas,it’sasifshewantstoreelthembackinandtuckthemaway.
Sheseemsembarrassed.
She’sgaspingforbreath,tryingtowipeawaythefewtearsthatarebeginningtoform,andsinceIhavenoideawhatthefucktosay,Ijusthugher.
WhatelsecanIdo?
Ipullhertome,andforasecond,shestiffens,butthat’salmostimmediatelyfollowedupbyasighassherelaxes.
We’retheonlypeoplearound.It’saftermidnight,everyoneishomesleeping,watchingamovie,makinglove.ButI’mhereonMainStreet,huggingareallysadgirl,wonderingwhyshe’ssad,wishingIdidn’tthinkshewassobeautiful.
Herfaceispressedagainstmychest,andherarmsaretightaroundmywaist.Herforeheadcomesrightuptomymouth,butshe’stuckedundermychin.
Irubherarms.
Mytruckisrightaroundthecorner.Ialwaysparkinthealley,butsheseemsupsetandIdon’twanttoencouragehertofollowmetoanalleywhenshe’scrying.Ileanagainstanawningpostandpullherwithme.
Twominutespass,maybethree.Shedoesn’tletgo.Shemoldsagainstme,soakingupthecomfortmyarmsandchestandhandsaregivingher.I’mrubbingherback,upanddown,myvoicestilltrappedinmythroat.
Somethingiswrongwithher,somethingI’mnotsureIevenwanttoknowatthispoint,butit’ssomethingIcan’tjustleaveheronthesidewalkanddriveawayfrom.
Idon’tthinkshe’scryinganymorewhenshesays,“Ineedtogohome.”
“I’llgiveyouaride.”
Sheshakesherheadandpullsawayfromme.Ikeepmyhandsonherarms,andInoticewhenshefoldsherarmsoverherchestthatshetouchesmyrighthandwithtwoofherfingers.It’sjustaquickswipe,butit’sdeliberate,likeshewantstogetonelasttinyfeelofmebeforesheleaves.
“Idon’tlivefar.I’llwalk.”
She’scrazyifshethinksshe’swalkinghome.“It’stoolatetobewalkingbyyourself.”Ipointtowardthealley.“Mytruckistenfeetaway.”Forobviousreasons,thatgesturemakesherhesitate,butthensheacceptsthehandI’mreachingouttoher,andshefollowsmearoundthecorner.
Whenmytruckcomesintoview,shestopswalking.Iturnaround,andshe’sstaringatmytruckwithconcerninhereyes.
“IcancallyouanUberifyou’dpreferthat.ButIswear,I’mjustofferingyouaridehome.Noexpectations.”
Shelooksdownatherfeet,butcontinueswalkingtowardmytruck.Iopenmypassengerdoorforher,andwhensheclimbsinside,shedoesn’tfaceforward.She’sstillfacingme,andherlegsarepreventingmefromclosingthedoor.She’slookingatmelikeshe’storn.Hereyebrowsaredrawnapart.I’mnotsureI’veeverseenanyonelooksoeffortlesslysad.
“Areyouokay?”
Sheleansherheadagainsttheseatandstaresatme.“Iwillbe,”shesaysquietly.“Tomorrowisabigdayforme.I’mjustnervous.”
“What’stomorrow?”Iaskher.
“Abigdayforme.”
Sheobviouslydoesn’tplanonelaborating,soInod,respectingherprivacy.
Herfocusmovestomyarm.Shetouchesthehemofmysleeve,soIputmyhandonherkneebecauseIwantitsomewhereonher,andherkneeseemslikethesafestplaceuntilsheletsmeknowwhereelseshemightwantmyhand.
Idon’tknowwhatherintentionsare.Mostpeopleshowuptobarsandmaketheirintentionsclear.Youcantellwhocomesinforahookupandwhocomesintogetshitfaced.
Ican’ttellwiththisgirl.Itseemslikesheaccidentallyopenedthedoorandendedupinmybarandhasnoideawhatshewantsfromtonight.
Maybeshejustwantstoskiptonightandgetstraighttowhateverbigthingshe’sgotgoingontomorrow.
I’mwaitingforasignalfromheronwhatshewantsmetodonext,becauseIthoughtIwastakingherhome,butshehasn’tfacedforward.It’slikeshewantsmetokissheragain.ButIdon’twanttomakehercryagain.ButIwanttokissheragain.
Itouchherface,andsheleansintomyhand.I’mstillnotpositiveshe’scomfortable,soIhesitateuntilshescootsclosertome.Ipositionmyselfbetweenherlegs,andthenshetightensherthighsaroundmyhips.
Icantakeahint.
Iswipemytongueacrossherlips,andshepullsmeinuntilhersweetbreathisinmymouth.Shetasteslikeapplesstill,buthermouthissaltierandhertongueismoredecisive.Sheleansintomykiss,andIleanintothetruck,intoher,andsheslowlyfallsbackacrosstheseat,pullingmewithher.Ihoveroverher,standingbetweenherlegs,pressingmyselfagainsther.
ThewayshesucksinsmallgaspsofairwhileIkissherisdrivingmeinsane.
SheguidesmyhanduphershirtandIgrabherbreastandshewrapsherlegsaroundmeandthenmyjeansareagainsthersandwe’rerockingbackandforthlikewe’reinfuckinghighschoolandthisisouronlyplacetogo.
Iwanttopullherbackintothebarandtearoffherclothes,butthisisenough.Morethanthiswouldbewaytoomuch.Forher.Ormaybetoomuchforme.Idon’tknow,Ijustknowhermouthandthistruckareenough.
Afteraminuteofmakingoutinthedark,Ipullawayfromhermouthjustenoughtoseethathereyesareclosedandherlipsareparted.Ikeepmysteadyrhythmagainsther,andsheliftsherhips,andIswearthefrictionbetweenourclothesisenoughtostartanactualfire.It’ssohotbetweenherthighs,andIdon’tthinkIcanfinishlikethis.I’mnotsureshecaneither.We’rejustgoingtodriveourselvescrazyifwedon’tfindawaytogetevencloser,orstopaltogether.
Iwouldinvitehertomyhouse,butmyparentsareintown,andI’mnotbringinganyonenearthosetwo.
“Nicole,”Iwhisper.Ifeeluncomfortableevensuggestingthis,butIcan’tkeepmakingoutwithherinanalleylikesheisn’tworthabed.“Wecouldgobackinside.”
Sheshakesherheadandsays,“No.Ilikeyourtruck,”rightbeforepullingmymouthbacktohers.
Ifshelikesmytruck,Ilovemytruck.Mytruckismysecond-favoritethingintheworldrightnow.
Hermouthismyfirst.
Shemovesmyhandtothebuttononherjeans,soIobligeandunbuttonthemwhilemytongueisdraggingacrosshers.Islipmyhandintothefrontofherjeansuntilmyfingersslideoverherpanties.Shemoans,andit’ssoloudagainstthesilentsoundtrackofthissleepytown.
Imoveherpantiesasidewithmyfingers,andI’mmetwithsmoothskinandheatandawhimper.WhenIinhale,Icanheartheshakinessofmyownbreaths.
Iburymymouthagainstherneckjustasheadlightsturnontothestreetnexttous.
“Shit.”Mytruckisparkedinthealley,butwearen’thiddenfromtheviewofthestreet.Wesuddenlyfindourselvesscramblingaswe’resnappedbacktoreality.Ipullmyhandoutofherjeans,andshebuttonsthem.Ihelpherup,andthenshefacesforwardwhilestraighteningoutherhair
Icloseherdoorandwalkaroundthetruckasthecarapproachesandcomestoaslowroll,thenastop,rightinfrontofthealley.IglanceupatthecarandseeGradyinhiscruiser.He’srollingdownthewindow,soIwalkawayfrommytruckanduptohiscar.
“Busynight?”heasksasheleanstowardthepassengerseatsothathecanseemefromthedriver’ssideofthecar.
IlookbehindmeatNicoleinthetruckandthenbackathim.“Yep.Justclosed.Youonuntilmorning?”
Heturnsdownhisradio.“Whitneytookanewshiftatthehospital,soI’mbackonnightsfornow.Ilikeit.It’squiet.”
Itaphishoodandthentakeastepback.“Goodtohear.Igottago.Seeyoutomorrowonthefield?”
Gradycantellsomethingisup.I’musuallynotthisquicktobrushhimoff.Heleansforward,lookingaroundme,attemptingtoseewhoeverisinmytruck.Ileantotherightandblockhisview.“Haveagoodnight,Grady.”Ipointdowntheroad,lettinghimknowhe’swelcometocontinuehispatrol.
Hegrins.“Yep.Youtoo.”
I’mnottryingtohideher.Ijustknowhiswifeisagossip,andIdon’treallywanttobethetalkoftheT-ballfieldtomorrow.
Iclimbintomytruck,andshe’sgotherfeetuponthedash.She’slookingoutherwindow,avoidingeyecontactwithme.Idon’twanthertofeelawkward.That’sthelastthingIwant.Ireachoverandtuckastrandofhairbehindherear.“Youokay?”
Shenods,butthenodisstiff,andsoisshe,andsoishersmile.“IlivenexttoCefco.”
Thatgasstationisalmosttwomilesaway.Shetoldmeearliershelivedcloseby,buttwomilesatmidnightisn’tclose.“CefcooffBellview?”
Sheshrugs.“Ithinkso.Ican’trememberallthestreetnames.Ijustmovedheretoday.”
Thatexplainswhysheisn’tfamiliartome.Iwanttosaysomethinglike,“Where’dyoucomefrom?Whatbringsyoutotown?”ButIsaynothing,becausesheseemstowantmetosaynothing.
Twomilesonlytakestwominuteswhenthere’snotraffic,andtwominutesisn’tallthatlong,butitsuredoesfeellikeaneternitywhenyou’respendingitinatruckwithagirlyoualmostfucked.Anditwouldn’thavebeenagoodfuck.Itmostcertainlywouldhavebeenaquick,sloppy,selfish,couldn’t-have-been-good-for-herfuck.
Iwanttoapologize,butI’mnotsurewhatI’dbeapologizingfor,andIdon’twanthertothinkIregretit.TheonlythingIregretisthatI’mtakingherhomeandnottomyhouse.
“Ilivethere,”shesays,pointingatParadiseApartments.
Idon’tcometothispartoftownveryoften.It’sintheoppositedirectionofmyhouse,soIrarelydrivedownthisroad.Ihonestlythoughttheycondemnedthisplace.
Ipullintotheparkinglot,andIintendtokilltheengineandopenherdoorforher,butshe’salreadyoutofthetruckbeforeIevengetitturnedoff.
“Thanksfortheride,”shesays.“And…forthecoffee.”Sheclosesthedoorandspinsaroundlikethat’showwe’resupposedtopart.
Iopenmydoor.“Hey.Wait.”
ShepausesbutwaitstoturnarounduntilI’vereachedher.She’shuggingherself,chewingonherlip,scratchingnervouslyatherarm.Shelooksupatme.“Youdon’thavetosayanything.”
“Whatdoyoumean?”
“Imean…Iknowwhatthatwas.”Shewavesahandatmytruck.“Youdon’thavetoaskformynumber,Idon’tevenhaveone.”
Howdoessheknowwhatthatwas?Idon’tknowwhatthatwas.Mymindisstilltryingtoprocessit.MaybeIshouldaskher.“Whatwasthat?Whatdoesitmean?Canithappenagain?”
I’minunchartedterritory.I’vehadone-nightstandsbefore,butthingswerediscussedandagreedtopriortothesex.Andit’salwayshappenedinabed,orsomethingclosetoit.
Butwithher,themake-outjusthappened,andthenitwasinterrupted,anditwasinanalleyofallplaces.Ifeellikeanasshole.
Ihavenoideawhattosay.Idon’tknowwheretoputmyhandsbecauseIfeellikeIshouldbehugginghergoodbye,butitseemslikeshedoesn’twantmenearhernow.Islipmyhandsintothepocketsofmyjeans.“Iwanttoseeyouagain.”It’snotalie.
Hereyesflickerfromminetoherapartmentbuilding.“I’mnot…”Shesighs,andthenshejustsays,“No,thankyou.”
Shesaysitsopolitely,Ican’tevenbeupset.
IstandinfrontofherapartmentbuildingandwatchherwalkawayuntilshegoesupthestairsandintoanapartmentandIcan’tseeheranymore.Andeventhen,IstayinthesamespotbecauseIthinkI’mshockedor,attheleast,jarred
Idon’tknowheratall,butIfindhermoreintriguingthananyoneelseI’vemetinalongtime.Iwanttoaskhermorequestions.SheneverevenansweredtheonequestionIaskedaboutherlife.Whothehellisshe?
WhydoIfeeltheneedtofindoutmoreabouther?CHAPTERSEVEN
KENNA
DearScotty,
Whentheysayit’sasmallworld,theyaren’tkidding.Tiny.Miniscule.Overcrowded.
I’monlytellingyouthisbecauseIknowyoucan’tactuallyreadtheseletters,butIsawLedger’strucktonightandIthoughtIwasgoingtocry.
Actually,IwasalreadycryingbecausehesaidhisnameandIrealizedwhohewasandIwaskissinghimandIfeltsoguilty,soIembarrassinglyranoutsideandalmosthadapanicattack.
Butyeah.Thatdamntruck.Ican’tbelievehestillhasit.Istillrememberthenightyoupulledupinittotakemeonourfirstdate.IlaughedbecauseitwassuchabrightorangethatIcouldn’tunderstandwhatkindofpersonwouldwillinglychoosethatcolor.
OverthreehundredlettersI’vewrittentoyouandIonlyrealizedtonightwhileskimmingthelettersthatnotoneofthemdetailsthefirstmomentwemet.Iwroteaboutouractualfirstdate,butnevermentionedthefirsttimewelaideyesoneachother.
IwasworkingasacashieratDollarDays.ItwasthefirstjobIappliedforwhenImovedawayfromDenver.Iknewnoone,butIdidn’tmindit.Iwasinanewstateandanewtownandnooneheldanypreconceivednotionsofme.Nooneknewmymother.
Whenyoucamethroughmyline,Ididn’tnoticeyourightaway.Irarelylookedatthecustomers,especiallyiftheywereguysmyage.Guysmyagehadonlydisappointedmeuptothatpoint.IthoughtmaybeIwassupposedtobeattractedtooldermen,ormaybeevenwomen,becausenoguyIhadevermetwhowasmyagemademefeelgoodaboutmyself.Betweenthecatcallsandthesexualexpectations,Ihadlostcompletefaithinthemalepopulationofmygeneration.
Wewereasmallstore,andeverythinginthestorewasjustadollar,sopeopleusuallycamethroughwithcartsfullofstuff.Youcamethroughmylinewithonedinnerplate.Iwonderedwhatkindofpersononlyboughtonedinnerplate.Surelymostpeopleexpecttohavefriendsoccasionally,oratleastthehopeforfriends.Butbuyingoneplatefeltlikeyouexpectedtoalwayseatalone.
Iranguptheplateandwrappeditbeforeplacingitinasackandhandingittoyou.
Itwasn’tuntilthesecondtimeyoucamethroughmylineafewminuteslaterthatIfinallylookedatyourface.Youwerebuyingaseconddinnerplate.Itmademefeelbetterforyou.Irangupthesecondplate,youhandedmeyourdollarandsomechange,Ihandedyouthesack,andthat’swhenyousmiled.
Youhadmeinthatmoment,althoughyouprobablydidn’trealizeit.Yoursmilewaslikewarmthslidingoverme.Itwasdangerousanditwascomfortable,andIdidn’tknowwhattodoaboutthosewarringfeelings,soIlookedawayfromyou.
Twominuteslater,youwerestandinginlineagainwithathirdplate.
Irangyouup.Youpaid.Iwrappedyourplateandhandedyouyoursack,butthistimeIspoke.“Comebacksoon,”Isaid.
Yougrinnedandsaid,“Ifyouinsist.”
Youcircledtheregisterandwentbacktotheaislethatcontainedtheplates.Ididn’thaveanyothercustomers,soIwatchedtheaisleuntilyoureappearedwithafourthplateandbroughtittotheregister.
Iranguptheplateandsaid,“Youknow,youcanbuymorethanonethingatatime.”
“Iknow,”yousaid.“ButIonlyneedoneplate.”
“Thenwhyisthisthefourthoneyou’vebought?”
“BecauseI’mtryingtoworkupthenervetoaskyouout.”
Ihadhopedthatwaswhy.Ihandedyouyoursack,wantingyourfingerstotouchmine.Theydid.ItfeltexactlyasIimagined,likeourhandsweremagnetic.Ittookalotofeffortjusttopullmyhandback.
Itriedtoactnonchalantaboutyourflirtation,becausethat’sjustwhatI’dalwaysdonewithmen,soIsaid,“It’sagainststorepolicyforemployeestodatecustomers.”
Therewasn’tanyfirmnessortruthtomyvoiceatall,butIthinkyoulikedthegamewewereplaying,soyousaid,“Okay.Givemeaminutetorectifythat.”Youwalkedtotheonlyothercashierinthestore.Youwereonlyafewfeetaway,soIheardyousay,“Ineedtoreturntheseplates,please.”
Theothercashierhadbeenonthephonewithacustomerduringyourfourtripstotheregister,soI’mnotsuresheknewyouwerebeingfacetious.Sheglancedatmefromherregisterandmadeaface.IshruggedlikeIdidn’tknowwhatwasupwiththeguywhohadfourdifferentreceiptsforfourplates,andthenIturnedawayfromhertowaitonanothercustomer.
Youcamethroughmylineafewminuteslaterandslappedareturnreceiptonthecounter.“I’mnolongeracustomer.Whatnow?”
Ipickedupthereceipt,pretendingtoreaditcarefully.Ihandeditbacktoyouandsaid,“Igetoffworkatseven.”
Youfoldedthereceiptanddidn’tlookatmewhenyousaid,“Seeyouinthreehours.”
Ishouldhavetoldyousix,becauseIendedupgettingoffworkearly.Ispenttheextrahourinthestorenextdoorbuyinganewoutfit.Youstillhadn’tshownupattwentyminutespastseven,soIhadgivenupandwaswalkingtomycarwhenyouspedintotheparkinglotandpulledupnexttome.Yourolleddownyourwindowandsaid,“SorryI’mlate.”
Iwasperpetuallylate,soIwasinnoplacetojudgeyouonyourtardiness,butIsuredidjudgeyoubasedonyourtruck.Ithoughtmaybeyouwereinsaneoroverconfident.ItwasanolderFordF-250.Bigdoublecab,theugliestcoloroforangeI’deverseen.“Ilikeyourtruck.”Iwasn’tsureifIwastellingthetruthorifIwaslying.Itwassuchanuglytruckitmademehateit.Butbecauseitwassougly,itmademelovethatyouwerepickingmeupinit.
“It’snotmine.It’smybestfriend’struck.Mycarisintheshop.”
Iwasrelieveditwasn’tyours,butalsoalittledisappointedbecauseIfoundthecolorsoamusing.Youmotionedformetogetinthetruck.Youlookedproudandsmelledlikeacandycane.
“Isthatwhyyou’relate?Yourcarbrokedown?”
Youshookyourheadandsaid,“No.Ihadtobreakupwithmygirlfriend.”
Myheadswunginyourdirection.“Youhaveagirlfriend?”
“Notanymore.”Youshotmeacoylook.
“Butyouhadonewhenyouaskedmeoutearlier?”
“Yes,butbythetimeIpurchasedmythirddinnerplate,IknewIwasgoingtobreakupwithher.Itwasoverdue,”yousaid.“We’vebothbeenwantingoutofitforawhile.Wewerejusttoocomfortabletocallitoff.”Youflippedonyourblinkerandpulledintoagasstationanduptoagaspump.“Mymotherwillbesad.Mymotherreallylikesher.”
“Mothersdon’tusuallylikeme,”Iadmitted.Ormaybeitwasmoreofawarning.
Yousmiled.“Icanseethat.Mothersprefertoimaginetheirsonswithwholesome-lookinggirls.You’retoosexytomakeamotherfeelcomfortable.”
Iwasn’tonetogetoffendedbyaguycallingmesexy.Iworkedhardthatdaytolooksexy.Ispentalotofmoneyonthebraandlow-cutshirtIhadpurchasedthirtyminutesearlierwiththegoalofmakingmybreastslookstorebought.
Iappreciatedthecompliment,evenifyouwerebeingalittletacky.
Asyougotouttofillyourfriend’struckupwithgas,Ithoughtaboutthewholesome-lookinggirlwhoseheartyoujustbrokesimplybecauseIagreedtogoonadatewithyou,andIfeltabitlikeasnakeinthatmoment.
ButeventhoughIfeltlikeasnake,Ididn’tplanonslitheringaway.Ilikedyourenergysomuch,Iplannedtocoilmyselfaroundyouandneverletgo.
WhenLedgersaidhisnameagainstmylipsearliertonight,Ialmostsaid,“Scotty’sLedger?”Butthequestionwouldhavebeenpointless,becauseIknewinthatinstantthathewasyourLedger.HowmanyLedgerscantherebe?I’venevermetonebefore.
Iwasoverwhelmedwithquestions,butLedgerkissedmeanditrippedmeinhalf,becauseIwantedtokisshimback,butevenmorethanthatIwantedtoaskhimquestionsaboutyou.Iwantedtosay,“WhatwasScottylikeasachild?Whatdidyouloveabouthim?Didheevertalkaboutme?Doyoustilltalktohisparents?Haveyoumetmydaughter?Canyouhelpmeputallthepiecesofmybrokenlifebacktogether?”
ButIcouldn’tspeakbecauseyourbestfriendhadhissearinghottongueinmymouthanditfeltlikehewasbrandingmewiththewordCHEATER.
Idon’tknowwhyitfeltlikeIwascheatingonyou.You’vebeendeadfiveyears,andIkissedtheprisonguard,soit’snotlikeyouwereevenmylastkiss.Butmykisswiththeprisonguarddidn’tmakemefeellikeIwascheatingonyou.Thatcouldbebecausetheprisonguardwasn’tyourbestfriend.
OrmaybeIfeltlikeacheaterbecauseIactuallyfeltLedger’skiss.Ittrickledallovermethewayyourkissesusedtodo,butthentherewasthataddedelementoffeelinglikeacheater,oraliar,ortrash,becauseLedgerdidn’tknowmeatall.ToLedger,hewasbeingkissedbythetransientgirlhecouldn’tstopstaringatallnight.
Tome,Iwasbeingkissedbythehotbartenderwhosebestfrienddiedbecauseofme.
Everythingexploded.IfeltlikeIwasshattering.IwasallowingLedgertotouchme,knowingfullwellhe’dprobablyratherstabmeifheknewwhoIwas.Pullingawayfromhiskissfeltalittleliketryingtoputoutaforestfirewithanuclearbomb.
Iwantedtoapologize,Iwantedtoescape.
Ifeltlikecollapsing,thinkingabouthowLedgerprobablyknewyoubetterthanIdid.IhatedthattheoneguyIranintointhistownistheoneguyIshouldbeavoiding.
Ledgerdidn’tturnawaywhenIcried,though.Hedidwhatyouwouldhavedone.HeputhisarmsaroundmeandletmebehoweverIneededtobe,anditfeltnicebecauseIhadn’tbeenheldlikethatsinceyou.
Iclosedmyeyesandpretendedyourbestfriendwasmyally.Thathewasonmyside.IpretendedhewasholdingmedespitewhatI’ddonetoyou,andhewantedtohelpmeheal.
IalsoletithappenbecauseifLedgerisbackinthistown,andhe’sstilldrivingthetruckImetyouinallthoseyearsago,thenthatmeanshe’safanofroutine.Andthere’sahugepossibilitythatourdaughterispartofLedger’sroutine.
IsitpossibleI’monlyonepersonawayfromDiem?
IfyoucouldseethepagesI’mwritingthisletteron,you’dseethetearstains.CryingseemstobetheonlythingleftinlifethatI’mgoodat.Cryingandmakingbaddecisions.
And,ofcourse,I’mgoodatwritingyoubadpoetry.I’llleaveyouwithoneIwroteonthebusridebacktothistown.
IhaveadaughterIhaveneverheld.
ShehasascentIhaveneversmelled.
ShehasanameIhaveneveryelled.
Shehasamotherwhohasalreadyfailed.
Love,
KennaCHAPTEREIGHT
LEDGER
Ididn’tparkinthegaragewhenIgothomelastnight.DiemlikestowakeupandlookoutherwindowinthemorningstomakesureI’mhome,andwhenIleavemytruckinthegarage,GracesaysitmakesDiemsad.
I’velivedacrossthestreetfromthemsinceDiemwaseightmonthsold,butifIdon’tcounttheyearsImovedoutofthishouseandlivedinDenver,I’vetechnicallybeeninthishousemyentirelife.
Myparentshaven’tlivedhereinseveralyears,eventhoughthey’rebothpassedoutintheguestroomrightnow.
TheyboughttheRVwhenmyfatherretired,andtheytravelthecountrynow.IboughtthehousefromthemwhenImovedback,andtheyloadedupandleft.Ifigureditwouldlastayearatthemost,butit’sbeenoverfouryearsnow,andtheyaren’tshowinganysignsofslowingdown.
Ijustwishthey’dwarnmebeforetheyshowup.MaybeIshoulddownloadaGPSapptotheirphonessoI’llhavesomekindofwarninginthefuture.NotthatIdon’tliketheirvisits.Itwouldjustbenicetobeabletoprepareforthem.
ThisiswhyI’mbuildingaprivacygateatmynewhouse.
Eventually.
It’sslowgoingbecauseRomanandIaredoingalotoftheworkourselves.EverySundayfromsunupuntilsundown,IdriveuptoCheshireRidgewithRomanandweworkonit.Icontractoutforthemoredifficultstuff,butwe’vecompletedagoodchunkofthebuildourselves.AftertwoyearsofSundays,thehouseisfinallystartingtocometogether.I’mmaybesixmonthsfrommovingin.
“Whereareyougoing?”
IspinaroundwhenIreachthegaragedoor.Myfatherisstandingoutsidetheguestbedroom.He’sinhisunderwear.
“DiemhasT-ball.Youguyswanttocome?”
“Nope.Toohungoverforkidstoday,andwereallyneedtogetbackontheroad.”
“You’realreadyleaving?”
“We’llbebackinafewweeks.”Myfathergivesmeahug.“Yourmotherisstillasleep,butI’lltellheryousaidbye.”
“Maybegivemeaheads-upbeforethenextvisitandI’lltakeoffwork.”
Myfathershakeshishead.“Nah,welikeseeingthesurpriseonyourfacewhenweshowupunannounced.”Heheadsintothebathroomandclosesthedoor.
IwalkthroughthegarageandtowardPatrickandGrace’shouseacrossthestreet.
I’mhopingDiemisn’tinatalkativemoodbecausemyconcentrationisgoingtobeshittoday.AllIcanthinkaboutisthegirlfromlastnightandhowmuchIwanttoseeheragain.IwonderifitwouldbeweirdifIleftanoteonherdoor?
IknockonPatrickandGrace’sfrontdoorandthenwalkin.We’reallbackandforthateachother’shousessomuch,atonepointwegottiredofsaying,“It’sopen.”It’salwaysopen.
GraceisinthekitchenwithDiem.Diemissittinginthecenterofthetablewithherlegscrossedandabowlofeggsonherlap.Sheneversitsinchairs.She’salwaysontopofthings,likethebackofthecouch,thekitchenbar,thekitchentable.She’saclimber.
“You’restillinyourpajamas,D.”Itakethebowlofeggsfromherandpointdownthehallway.“Getdressed,wegottago.”SherunstoherroomtoputonherT-balluniform.
“Ithoughtthegamewasatten,”Gracesays.“Iwouldhavehadherready.”
“Itis,butI’vegotGatoradeduty,soIhavetorunbythestore,andthenIhavetoswingbyandpickupRoman.”Ileanagainstthecounterandgrabatangerine.IpeelitopenwhileGracestartsthedishwasher.
Sheblowsapieceofhairoutofherface.“Shewantsaswingset,”shesays.“Oneofthoseridiculouslybigonesliketheoneyouusedtohaveinyourbackyard.HerfriendNylafromschoolgotone,andyouknowwecan’tsayno.It’llbeherfifthbirthday.”
“Istillhaveit.”
“Youdo?Where?”
“It’sintheshedinpieces,butIcanhelpPatrickputitbacktogether.Shouldn’tbetoohard.”
“Youthinkit’sstillingoodshape?”
“WaswhenItookitapart.”IfailtotellherScottyisthereasonItookitapart.IgotangryeverytimeIlookedatitafterhedied.
Iputanotherpieceoftangerineinmymouthandreroutemythoughts.“Ican’tbelieveshe’llbefive.”
Gracesighs.“Iknow.Unreal.Unfair.”
PatrickpopsintothekitchenandtouslesmyhairlikeI’mnotalmostthirtyandthreeinchestallerthanhim.“Hey,kid.”Hereachesaroundmeandgrabsoneofthetangerines.“DidGracetellyouwecan’tmakethegametoday?”
“Ihaven’tyet,”Gracesays.Sherollshereyes,herannoyedgazelandingonme.“Mysisterisinthehospital.Electivesurgery,she’sfine,butwehavetodrivetoherhouseandfeedhercats.”
“What’sshegettingdonethistime?”
Gracewavesahandatherface.“Somethingwithhereyes.Whoknows?She’sfiveyearsolderthanme,butlookstenyearsyounger.”
PatrickcoversGrace’smouth.“Stop.You’reperfect.”Gracelaughsandshoveshishandaway.
I’veneverseenthemfight.NotevenwhenScottywasakid.Myparentsbickeralot,andit’smostlyinfun,butI’veneverevenseenGraceandPatrickbickerinthetwentyyearsI’veknownthem.
Iwantthat.Someday.Idon’thavetimeforityet,though.IworktoomuchandfeellikeI’mslowlyrunningmyselfintotheground.IneedtomakeachangeifIeverwanttokeepagirllongenoughtohavewhatPatrickandGracehave.
“Ledger!”Diemyellsfromherbedroom.“Helpme!”Iwalkdownthehallwaytogoseewhatsheneeds.She’sonherkneesinhercloset,diggingaround.“Ican’tfindmyotherboot—Ineedmyboot.”
She’sholdingoneredcowboybootandrummagingaroundfortheother.“Whydoyouneedboots?Youneedyourcleats.”
“Idon’twanttowearmycleatstoday.Iwanttowearmyboots.”
Hercleatsarenexttoherbed,soIgrabthem.“Youcan’twearbootstoplaybaseball.Here,hoponthebedsoIcanhelpyouputonyourcleats.”
Shestandsupandflingsthesecondredbootontoherbed.“Foundit!”Shegigglesandclimbsontoherbedandstartsputtingonherboots.
“Diem.It’sbaseball.Peopledon’twearbootstoplaybaseball.”
“Iam,I’mwearingbootstoday.”
“No,youcan’t—”Ishutup.Idon’thavetimetoarguewithher,andIknowonceshegetstothefieldandseesalltheotherkidswiththeircleats,she’llletmetakeoffherboots.IhelpherputonthebootsandtakethecleatswithuswhenIcarryheroutoftheroom.
GracemeetsusatthedoorandhandsDiemajuicepouch.“Havefuntoday.”ShekissesDiemonthecheek,andthenGrace’seyesgotoDiem’sboots.
“Don’task,”IsayasIopentheirfrontdoor.
“Bye,Nana!”Diemsays.
Patrickisinthekitchen,andwhenDiemfailstotellhimgoodbye,hestompsdramaticallytowardus.“WhataboutNoNo?”
PatrickwantedtogobyPapawhenDiemstartedtalking,butforwhateverreason,shecalledGraceNanaandPatrickNoNo,anditwassofunnyGraceandIenforceditenoughthatitfinallystuck.
“Bye,NoNo,”Diemsays,giggling.
“Wemaynotgetbackbeforeyou,”Gracesays.“Youmindkeepingherifwearen’t?”
Idon’tknowwhyGracealwaysasksme.I’veneversaidno.I’llneversayno.“Takeyourtime.I’lltakehersomewhereforlunch.”IputDiemdownwhenwegetoutside.
“McDonald’s!”shesays.
“Idon’twantMcDonald’s,”Isayaswecrossthestreettowardmytruck.
“McDonald’sdrive-through!”
Iopenthebackdoortomytruckandhelpherintoherboosterseat.“HowaboutMexicanfood?”
“Nope.McDonald’s.”
“Chinese?Wehaven’thadChinesefoodinalongtime.”
“McDonald’s.”
“I’lltellyouwhat.Ifyouwearyourcleatswhenwegettothegame,wecaneatMcDonald’s.”Igetherseatbeltbuckled.
Sheshakesherhead.“No,Iwanttowearmyboots.Idon’twantlunchanyway—I’mfull.”
“You’llbehungrybylunchtime.”
“Iwon’t,Iateadragon.I’mgonnabefullforever.”
SometimesIworryabouthowmanystoriesshetells,butshe’ssoconvincingI’mmoreimpressedthanconcerned.Idon’tknowatwhatageachildshouldknowthedifferencebetweenalieandusingtheirimagination,butI’llleavethatuptoGraceandPatrick.Idon’twanttostiflemyfavoritepartofher.
Ipullontothestreet.“Youateadragon?Awholedragon?”
“Yeah,buthewasababydragon,that’showhefitinmystomach.”
“Where’dyoufindababydragon?”
“Walmart.”
“TheysellbabydragonsatWalmart?”
SheproceedstotellmeallabouthowbabydragonsaresoldatWalmart,butyouhavetohaveaspecialcoupon,andonlykidscaneatthem.BythetimeImakeittoRoman’s,she’sexplaininghowthey’recooked.
“Withsaltandshampoo,”shesays.
“Youaren’tsupposedtoeatshampoo.”
“Youdon’teatit—youuseittocookthedragon.”
“Oh.Sillyme.”
Romangetsinthetruck,andhelooksaboutasexcitedassomeonegoingtoafuneral.HehatesT-balldays.He’sneverbeenakidperson.Theonlyreasonhehelpsmecoachisthatnoneoftheotherparentswoulddoit.Andsinceheworksforme,Iaddedittohisschedule.
He’stheonlypersonIknowwhogetspaidtocoachT-ball,buthedoesn’tseemtofeelguiltyaboutit.
“Hi,Roman,”Diemsaysfromthebackseatinasingsongvoice.
“I’veonlyhadonecupofcoffee;don’ttalktome.”Romanistwenty-seven,butheandDiemhavemetsomewhereinthemiddlewiththeirlove-haterelationship,becausetheybothacttwelve.
Diemstartstappingthebackofhisheadrest.“Wakeup,wakeup,wakeup.”
Romanrollshisheaduntilhe’slookingatme.“Allthisshityoudotohelplittlekidsinyoursparetimeisn’tgoingtogainyouanypointsinanafterlifebecausereligionisasocialconstructcreatedbysocietieswhowantedtoregulatetheirpeople,whichmakesheavenaconcept.Wecouldbesleepingrightnow.”
“Wow.I’dhatetoseeyoubeforecoffee.”Ibackoutofhisdriveway.“Ifheavenisconceptual,whatishell?”
“TheT-ballfield.”CHAPTERNINE
KENNA
I’vebeentosixdifferentplacestryingtofindajob,anditisn’teventeninthemorningyet.They’veallgonethesame.Theygivemeanapplication.Askmeaboutmyexperience.IhavetotellthemIhavenone.Ihavetotellthemwhy.
Thentheyapologize,butnotbeforelookingmeupanddown.Iknowwhatthey’rethinking.It’sthesamethingmylandlord,Ruth,saidwhenshesawmeforthefirsttime.“Didn’texpectyoutolooklikethis.”
Peoplethinkwomenwhogotoprisonhaveacertainlook.Thatwe’reacertainway.Butwe’remothers,wives,daughters,humans
Andallwewantistojustcatchonefuckingbreak.
Justone.
TheseventhplaceItryisagrocerystore.It’salittlefartherfrommyapartmentthanI’dlike,almosttwoandahalfmiles,butI’veexhaustedeverythingelsebetweenthisstoreandmyapartment.
I’msweatingwhenIenterthestore,soIfreshenupinthebathroom.I’mwashingmyhandsinthesinkwhenashortwomanwithsilkyblackhairentersthebathroom.Shedoesn’tgointoastall.Shejustleansagainstthewallandcloseshereyes.Shehasanamebadgeon:AMY
Whensheopenshereyes,shenoticesI’mstaringathershoes.She’swearingapairofmoccasinswithwhiteandredbeadsintheshapeofacircleontopofthem.
“Youlike?”sheasks,liftingherfootandtiltingitfromonesidetotheother.
“Yeah.They’rebeautiful.”
“Mygrandmothermakesthem.We’resupposedtowearsneakershere,butthegeneralmanagerhasneversaidanythingaboutmyshoes.Ithinkhe’sscaredofme.”
Ilookdownatmymuddysneakers.Irecoilatthesightofthem.Ididn’trealizeIwaswalkingaroundwithsuchdirtyshoes.
Ican’tapplyforajoblikethis.Itakeoneofthemoffandstartwashingitinthesink.
“I’mhiding,”thewomansays.“Idon’tnormallyhangoutinbathrooms,butthere’sanoldladyinthestorewhoalwayscomplainsabouteverything,andI’mhonestlyjustnotinthemoodforherbullshittoday.Ihaveatwo-year-oldandshedidn’tsleepallnightandIreallywantedtocallinsicktoday,butI’mtheshiftmanager,andshiftmanagersdon’tcallinsick.Weshowup.”
“Andhideinbathrooms.”
Shegrins.“Exactly.”
Iswitchshoesandstartwashingtheotherone.IhavealumpinmythroatwhenIsay,“Areyouguyshiring?I’mlookingforajob.”
“Yeah,butit’sprobablynotanythingyou’reinterestedin.”
Shemustnotseethedesperationonmyface.“Whatareyouhiringfor?”
“Grocerybagger.It’snotfulltime,butweusuallyleavethosespotsopenforteenagerswithspecialneeds.”
“Oh.Well,Idon’twanttotakeajobawayfromanyone.”
“No,it’snotthat,”shesays.“Wejustdon’thavemanyapplicantsbecauseofthelowhours,butwereallyareinneedofpart-timehelp.It’sabouttwentyhoursaweek.”
Thatwon’tevenpayrent,butifIworkedhardenough,Icouldpossiblyworkmywayintoadifferentposition.“Icandoituntilsomeonewithspecialneedsapplies.Icouldreallyusethemoney.”
Amylooksmeupanddown.“Whyareyousodesperate?Thepayisshit.”
Iputmyshoebackon.“I,um…”Itiemyshoe,stallingtheinevitableadmission.“Ijustgotoutofprison.”Isayitfastandconfidently,likeitdoesn’tbothermeasmuchasitdoes.“ButI’mnot…Icandothis.Iwon’tletyoudownandIwon’tbeanytrouble.”
Amylaughs.It’saloudlaugh,butwhenIdon’tlaughwithher,shefoldsherarmsoverherchestandtiltsherhead.“Oh,shit.You’reserious?”
Inod.“Yeah.Butifit’sagainstpolicy,Itotallygetit.It’snotabigdeal.”
Shewavesaflippanthand.“Eh,wedon’treallyhaveapolicy.Wearen’tachain—wecanhirewhoeverwewant.Tobehonest,I’mobsessedwithOrangeIstheNewBlack,soifyou’llpromisetoletmeknowwhichpartsoftheshowarebullshit,I’llgiveyouanapplication.”
Icouldcry.Instead,Ifakeasmile.“I’veheardsomanyjokesaboutthatshow.IguessIneedtowatchit.”
Amyrollsherhead.“Yes.Yes,yes.Bestshow,bestcast;comewithme.”
Ifollowhertothecustomerservicedeskatthefrontofthestore.Shedigsaroundinadrawerandfindsanapplication,thenhandsittomealongwithapen.“Ifyoufillitoutwhileyou’rehere,IcangetyouinforMondayorientation.”
Itaketheapplicationfromher,andIwanttothankher,Iwanttohugher,Iwanttotellhershe’schangingmylife.ButIjustsmileandquietlytakemyapplicationtoabenchbythefrontdoor.
Ifilloutmyfullnamebutputquotationmarksaroundmymiddlename,sothey’llknowtocallmeNicole.Ican’tbewearinganametagthatsaysKENNAinthistown.Someonewillrecognizeit.Thenthey’llgossip.
IgethalfwaythroughthefirstpagewhenI’minterrupted.
“Hey.”
MyfingersclenchthepentightlywhenIhearhisvoice.Islowlyliftmyhead,andLedgerisstandinginfrontofmewithagrocerycartfullofaboutadozenpacksofGatorade.
Ifliptheapplicationover,hopinghedidn’talreadyseemynameacrossthetopofit.Iswallowandattempttoappeartobeinamorestablemoodthanallthemoodshewitnessedfrommeyesterday.
IgesturetowardtheGatorade.“Specialatthebartonight?”
Asubtlereliefseemstowashoverhim,likehewasexpectingmetotellhimtofuckoff.HetapsoneofthepacksofGatorade.“T-ballcoach.”
Ilookawayfromhim,becauseforsomereasonthatanswermakesmeuneasy.Hedoesn’tlooklikeaT-ballcoach.Thoseluckymothers.
Oh,no.He’saT-ballcoach.Doeshehaveakid?Akidandawife?
DidIalmostsleepwithamarriedT-ballcoach?
Itapthepenonthebackoftheclipboard.“Areyou,um…youaren’tmarried,areyou?”
Hisgrintellsmeno.Hedoesn’tevenneedtosayit,butheshakeshisheadandsays,“Single,”thenmotionstowardtheclipboardonmylap.“Youapplyingforajob?”
“Yep.”Iglancetowardthecustomerservicedesk,andAmyiseyeingme.Ineedthisjobsobad,butI’mafraidthismightmakeitlooklikeI’mgoingtobedistractedbysexybartenderswhileI’montheclock.Ilookawayfromher,wonderingifLedger’sstandingheretalkingtomeishurtingmychances.Ifliptheclipboardbackover,buttiltitsothatheisn’tabletoseemyname.Istartwritinginmyaddress,hopinghewalksaway.
Hedoesn’t.Hepusheshiscarttothesidesoaguycangetaroundhim,andthenheleanshisrightshoulderagainstthewallandsays,“IwashopingI’drunintoyouagain.”
I’mnotgoingtodothisrightnow.
I’mnotgoingtoleadhimonwhenhehasnoideawhoIam.
I’malsonotgoingtoriskthisjobbyfraternizingwithcustomers.“Canyougo?”Iwhisperit,butloudenoughforhimtohearit.
Hemakesaface.“DidIdosomethingwrong?”
“No,Ijustreallyneedtofinishthis.”
Hisjawtightens,andhepushesoffthewall.“It’sjustthatyouactlikeyou’remad,andIfeelkindofbadaboutlastnight…”
“I’mfine.”Ilookbackatthecustomerservicedesk,andAmyisstillstaring.IfaceLedgerandpleadwithhim.“Ireallyneedthisjob.Andrightnow,mypotentialnewbosskeepslookingoverhere,andnooffense,butyou’recoveredintattoosandlookliketrouble,andIneedhertothinkI’mnotgoingtogiveheranyissuesatall.Idon’tcarewhathappenedlastnight.Itwasmutual.Itwasfine.”
Henodsslowlyandthengripsthehandleofhisshoppingcart.“Itwasfine,”herepeats,seeminglyoffended.
Foramoment,Ifeelbad,butI’mnotgoingtolietohim.Heputhishanddownmyjeans,andifwehadn’tbeeninterrupted,weprobablywouldhaveendedupfucking.Inhistruck.Howspectacularcouldithavebeen?
Buthe’sright—itwasmorethanfine.Ican’tevenlookathimwithoutstaringathismouth.He’sagoodkisser,andit’stoyingwithmyheadrightnowbecauseIhavesomanymoreimportantthingsgoingoninmylifethanhismouth.
Hestandssilentforacoupleofsecondsandthenreachesintoasackinhiscart.Hepullsoutabrownbottle.“Iboughtcaramel.Incaseyoucomeback.”Hetossesthebottleintothecart.“Anyway.Goodluck.”Helooksuneasywhenheturnsandwalksoutthedoor.
Itrytocontinuefillingouttheform,butI’mshakingnow.IfeellikeI’vegotabombstrappedtomeanditticksdowninhispresence,gettingcloserandclosertoexplodingmysecretsalloverhim.
Ifinishfillingouttheapplication,butmyhandwritingissloppybecauseofmytremblinghands.WhenIreturntocustomerserviceandhandittoAmy,shesays,“Heyourboyfriend?”
Iplaydumb.“Who?”
“LedgerWard.”
Ward?ThebariscalledWard’s.Heownsthebar?
Ishakemyhead,answeringAmy’squestion.“No,Ihardlyknowhim.”
“Shame.He’sahotcommodityaroundheresinceheandLeahbrokeup.”
ShesaysthatlikeI’msupposedtoknowwhoLeahis.Iguessinatownthissize,mostpeopleknowmostpeople.IglancebackatthedoorLedgerdisappearedthrough.“I’mnotinthemarketforahotcommodity.Justalukewarmjob.”
Amylaughsandthenbrowsesmyapplicationforamoment.“Didyougrowuphere?”
“No,I’mfromDenver.Icamehereforcollege.”That’salie—Ineverwenttocollege—butit’sacollegetown,andmyintentionsweretoeventuallygo.Thatjustneverhappened.
“Oh,yeah?What’syourdegreein?”
“Didn’tfinish.That’swhyI’mback,”Ilie.“Registeringfornextsemester.”
“Thisjobisperfectforthat;wecanworkaroundyourclasses.BehereMondayateightfororientation.Doyouhaveadriver’slicense?”
Inod.“Yeah,I’llbringit.”IleaveoutthefactthatIjustgotmydriver’slicenselastmonth,aftermonthsofworkingtogetitreinstated.“Thankyou.”Itrytosaythatwithaslittleeagernessinmyvoiceaspossible,butsofarthingsareworkingout.Ihaveanapartmentandnowajob.
NowIjustneedtofindmydaughter.
Iturntowalkaway,butAmysays,“Wait.Doyouwanttoknowhowmuchyou’remaking?”
“Oh.Yeah,ofcourse.”
“Minimumwage.Ridiculous,Iknow.Idon’townthisplace,orI’draiseit.”Sheleansforwardandlowershervoice.“Youknow,youcanprobablygetajobattheLowe’swarehouse.Theypaytwicethatstartingout.”
“Itriedonlinelastweek.Theywon’thiremewithmyrecord.”
“Oh.Bummer.Well.SeeyouMonday,then.”
BeforeIgo,ItapmyfistonthecounterandaskaquestionIprobablyshouldn’task.“Onemorething.YouknowtheguyIwastalkingto?Ledger?”
Sheraisesanamusedbrow.“Whatabouthim?”
“Doeshehavekids?”
“Justanieceorsomething.Shecomesinherewithhimsometimes.Cutegirl,butI’mprettysurehe’ssingleandchildless.”
Aniece?
Orcoulditbehisdeceasedbestfriend’sdaughter?
Doesheshopherewithmydaughter?
Isomehowforceasmilethroughtheonslaughtofemotionssuddenlyspiralingthroughme.Ithankheragain,butthenIleaveinahurry,hopingbysomemiracleLedger’struckisstilloutsideandthatmydaughterisinthetruckwithhim.
Ilookaroundtheparkinglot,buthe’salreadygone.Mystomachsinks,butIcanstillfeeltheadrenalinedisguisedashoperunningthroughmybody.BecausenowIknowhecoachesT-ball,andDiemmorethanlikelyplaysonhisteam,becausewhyelsewouldhecoachifhedoesn’thavechildrenofhisown?
IdebategoingstraighttotheT-ballfield,butIneedtodothisright.IwanttospeakwithPatrickandGracefirst.CHAPTERTEN
LEDGER
I’minthedugoutpullingtheequipmentoutofthebagwhenGradyslipshisfingersthroughthechain-linkfence,grippingit.“So?Whowasshe?”
Ipretendnottoknowwhathe’stalkingabout.“Whowaswho?”
“Thegirlyouhadinyourtrucklastnight.”
Grady’seyesarebloodshot.Itlookslikethenightshiftchangeistakingatollonhim.“Acustomer.Iwasjustgivingheraridehome.”
Grady’swife,Whitney,isstandingnexttohimnow.Atleasttherestofthemombrigadeisn’twithher,becauseIcantellimmediatelybythewayshe’slookingatmethateveryoneontheT-ballfieldisalreadytalking.Icanonlybeconfrontedbyonecoupleatatime.“Gradysaidyouhadagirlinyourtrucklastnight.”
IshootGradyalook,andheholdshishandsuphelplessly,likehiswifeyankedtheinformationoutofhim.
“Itwasnoone,”Irepeat.“Justgivingacustomeraridehome.”IwonderhowmanytimesI’mgoingtohavetorepeatthistoday.
“Whowasshe?”Whitneyasks.
“Nooneyouknow.”
“Weknoweveryonearoundhere,”Gradysays.
“She’snotfromhere,”Isay.Imightbelying;Imightbetellingthetruth.Iwouldn’tknowsinceIknowverylittleabouther.Otherthanwhatshetasteslike.
“Destinhasbeenworkingonhisswing,”Gradysays,changingthesubjecttohisson.“Wait’llyouseewhathecando.”
Gradywantstobetheenvyofalltheotherfathers.Idon’tgetit.T-ballissupposedtobefun,butpeoplelikehimputsomuchcompetitivenessintoitandruinthesport.
Twoweeksago,Gradyalmostgotintoafightwiththeumpire.HeprobablywouldhavehithimifRomanhadn’tpushedhimoffthefield.
NotsuregettingthatheatedoveraT-ballgameisagoodlookforanyone.Buthetakeshisson’ssportsveryseriously.
Me…notsomuch.SometimesIwonderifit’sbecauseDiemisn’tmydaughter.Ifshewere,wouldIgetangryoverasportthatdoesn’tevenkeepscore?Idon’tknowthatIcouldloveabiologicalchildmorethanIloveDiem,soIdoubtI’dbeanydifferentwhenitcomestotheirsports.SomeoftheparentsassumethatsinceIplayedprofessionalfootballI’dbemorecompetitive.I’vedealtwithcompetitivecoachesmywholelife,though.IagreedtocoachthisteamspecificallytopreventsomecompetitiveassholefromcominginandsettingabadexampleforDiem.
Thekidsaresupposedtobewarmingup,butDiemisstandingbehindhomeplateshovingT-ballsintothepocketsofherbaseballpants.She’sgottwoineachpocket,andnowshe’stryingtoshoveathirdin.Herpantsarestartingtosagfromtheweight.
Iwalkovertoherandkneel.“D,youcan’ttakealltheT-balls.”
“They’redragoneggs,”shesays.“I’mgoingtoplanttheminmyyardandgrowbabydragons.”
ItosstheballsoneatatimetoRoman.“That’snothowdragonsgrow.Themommadragonhastositontheeggs.Youdon’tburythemintheyard.”
Diembendsforwardtopickupapebble,andInoticeshehastwoballsstuffeddownthebackofhershirt.Iuntuckhershirt,andtheballsfalltoherfeet.IkickthemtoRoman.
“DidIgrowinanegg?”sheasks.
“No,D.You’reahuman.Humansdon’tgrowineggs—wegrowin…”IstoptalkingbecauseIwasabouttosay,“Wegrowinourmother’sbellies,”butI’malwayscarefultoavoidanytalkofmothersorfathersaroundDiem.Idon’twanthertostartaskingmequestionsIcan’tanswer.
“Whatdowegrowin?”sheasks.“Trees?”
Shit.
IputmyhandonDiem’sshoulderandcompletelyignoreherquestionbecauseIhavenoideawhatGraceorPatrickhastoldherabouthowbabiesaremade.Thisisn’tmywheelhouse.Iwasn’tpreparedforthisconversation.
Iyellforallthekidstogotothedugout,andluckilyDiemisdistractedbyoneofherfriendsandwalksawayfromme.
Iblowoutabreath,relievedtheconversationendedwhereitdid.
IdroppedRomanoffatthebartosparehimatriptoMcDonald’s.
Andyes,we’reatMcDonald’seventhoughDiemdidn’twearhercleatsatallduringthegame,becauseshegetsherwaywithmemoreoftenthanshedoesn’t.
Chooseyourbattles,theysay.Butwhathappenswhenyouneverchooseany?
“Idon’twanttoplayT-ballanymore,”Diemsaysoutoftheblue.She’sdippingherfrenchfryintohoneywhenshemakesthatdecision.Thehoneydribblesdownherhand.
Itrytogethertoeatherfrieswithketchupbecauseit’saloteasiertoclean,butshewouldn’tbeDiemifshedidn’tdoeverythingthehardestwaypossible.
“Youdon’tlikeT-ballanymore?”
Sheshakesherheadandlicksherwrist.
“That’sfine.Butweonlyhaveafewmoregames,andyoumadeacommitment.”
“What’sacommitment?”
“It’swhenyouagreetodosomething.Youagreedtobeapartoftheteam.Ifyouquitinthemiddleoftheseason,yourfriendswillbesad.Youthinkyoucanmakeitthroughtherestoftheseason?”
“IfwecanhaveMcDonald’safterallthegames.”
Inarrowmyeyesinherdirection.“WhydoIfeellikeI’mgettingswindled?”
“Whatdoesswindledmean?”sheasks.
“Itmeansyou’retryingtotrickmeintogettingyouMcDonald’s.”
Diemgrinsandeatsherlastfry.Iputallourtrashonthetray.Igrabherhandtoleadheroutofthestoreandrememberthehoney.Herhandsareasstickyasaflytrap.Ikeepwetwipesinmytruckforthisveryreason.
Acoupleofminuteslater,she’sbuckledupinherboosterseatandI’mscrubbingherhandsandarmswiththewetwipewhenshesays,“Whenismymomgettingabiggercar?”
“Shedrivesaminivan.Howbigofacardoessheneed?”
“NotNana,”Diemsays.“Mymom.SkylarsaidmymomnevercomestomyT-ballgames,andItoldhershewillwhenshegetsabiggercar.”
Istopwipingherhands.Sheneverbringsuphermother.Thisistwiceinonedaywe’vebrushedtheconversation.
Iguessshe’sgettingtothatage,butIhavenoideawhatGraceorPatrickhastoldheraboutKenna,andIhaveabsolutelynoideawhyshe’saskingabouthermother’scar.
“Whotoldyouyourmomneededabiggercar?”
“Nana.Shesaidmymom’scarisn’tbigenoughandthat’swhyIlivewithherandNoNo.”
That’sconfusing.Ishakemyheadandthrowthewipesinasack.“Idon’tknow.Askyournana.”IcloseherdoorandtextGraceasI’mcirclingaroundtothedriver’ssideofmytruck.
WhydoesDiemthinkhermotherisn’tinherlifebecausesheneedsabiggercar?
We’reafewmilesawayfromMcDonald’swhenGracecalls.Imakesurenottoansweritonspeaker.“Hey.DiemandIareonourwayback.”It’smywayoflettingGraceknowIcan’tsaymuchonmyend.
Gracesucksinabreathlikeshe’sgettingreadyforalongexplanationtomytext.“Okay,solastweek,Diemaskedmewhyshedoesn’tlivewithhermother.Ididn’tknowwhattosay,soItoldhersheliveswithmebecausehermother’scarisn’tbigenoughtofitallofus.ItwasthefirstlieIcouldcomeupwith.Ipanicked,Ledger.”
“I’dsayso.”
“Weplanontellingher,buthowdoyoutellachildhermotherwenttoprison?Shedoesn’tevenknowwhatprisonis.”
“I’mnotjudging,”Isay.“Ijustwanttomakesurewe’reonthesamepage.Weshouldprobablycomeupwithamoreaccurateversionofthetruth,though.”
“Iknow.She’sjustsoyoung.”
“She’sstartingtogetcurious.”
“Iknow.Just…ifsheasksagain,tellherI’llexplainittoher.”
“Idid.Prepareforquestions.”
“Great,”shesayswithasigh.“Howdidthegamego?”
“Good.Sheworetheredboots.AndgotMcDonald’s.”
Gracelaughs.“You’reasucker.”
“Yeah.Tellmesomethingnew.Seeyousoon.”Iendthecallandglanceintothebackseat.Diem’sfaceisfullofconcentration.
“Whatareyouthinking,D?”
“Iwanttobeinamovie,”Diemsays.
“Ohyeah?Youwanttobeanactress?”
“No,Iwanttobeinamovie.”
“Iknow.That’scalledbeinganactress.”
“Then,yeah,that’swhatIwanttobe.Anactress.Iwanttobeincartoons.”
Idon’ttellhercartoonsarejustvoicesanddrawings.“Ithinkyou’dbeagreatcartoonactress.”
“Iwillbe.I’mgonnabeahorseoradragonoramermaid.”
“Oraunicorn,”Isuggest.
Shegrinsandlooksoutherwindow.
Iloveherimagination,butshedefinitelydidn’tgetitfromScotty.Hismindwasmoreconcretethanasidewalk.CHAPTERELEVEN
KENNA
I’veneverseenapictureofDiem.Idon’tknowifshelookslikemeorScotty.Arehereyesblueorbrown?Ishersmilehonestlikeherfather’s?Doesshelaughlikeme?
Isshehappy?
That’smyonlyhopeforher.Iwanthertobehappy.
IhavecompletefaithinGraceandPatrick.IknowtheylovedScotty,andit’sobvioustheyloveDiem.Theylovedherbeforeshewasevenborn.
TheystartedfightingforcustodythedaytheyweretoldIwaspregnant.Thebabydidn’tevenhavefullydevelopedlungs,buttheywerealreadyfightingforitsfirstbreath.
IlostthecustodybattlebeforeDiemwasevenborn.Therearen’tmanyrightsamotherhaswhenshe’ssentencedtoseveralyearsinprison.
Thejudgesaid,becauseofthenatureofoursituationandtheduressI’dcausedtoScotty’sfamily,hecouldnot,ingoodconscience,honormyrequestforvisitationrights.NorwouldheforceScotty’sparentstomaintaintherelationshipbetweenmydaughterandmewhileIwasinprison.
IwastoldIcouldpetitionthecourtforrightsuponmyrelease,butsincemyrightswereterminated,there’sprobablyverylittleIcando.BetweenDiem’sbirthandmyreleasealmostfiveyearslater,therehasbeenlittleanyonecould,orwould,doforme.
AllIhaveisthisintangiblehopeItrytoclingtowithchildlikehands.
IwasprayingScotty’sparentsjustneededtime.Iassumed,ignorantly,thattheywouldeventuallyseeaneedformetobeinDiem’slife.
Therewasn’tmuchIcoulddofrommyisolatedpositionintheworld,butnowthatI’mout,I’vethoughtlongandhardabouthowIshouldgoaboutthis.Ihavenoideawhattoexpect.Idon’tevenknowwhatkindofpeopletheyare.IonlymetthemoncewhenScottyandIweredating,andthatdidn’tgooververywell.I’vetriedtofindthemonline,buttheirprofilesareextremelyprivate.Therewasn’tasinglepictureofDiemonlinethatIcouldlocate.IevenlookedupallofScotty’sfriendswhosenamesIcouldremember,butIcouldn’trememberverymany,andalltheirprofileswereprivate.
IknewverylittleaboutScotty’slifebeforehemetme,andIwasn’twithhimlongenoughtotrulygettoknowhisfriendsorhisfamily.Sixmonthsoutofthetwenty-twoyearshelived.
Whyiseveryonefromhislifesolockeddown?Isitbecauseofme?Aretheyafraidofthisverythinghappening?Meshowingup?Mehopingtobeapartofmydaughter’slife?
Iknowtheyhateme,andtheyhaveeveryrighttohateme,butpartofmehasbeenlivingwiththemforthepastfouryearsinDiem.Myhopeisthatthey’vefoundasliverofforgivenessformethroughmydaughter.
Timehealsallwounds,right?
ExceptIdidn’tleavethemwithasimplewound.Ileftthemwithacasualty.Onesoheartbreakingthere’sapossibilityitwillneverbeforgiven.It’shardnottoclingtohope,though,whenallI’vebeenabletodoorlookforwardtoisthismoment.
It’seithergoingtocompletemeordestroyme.Thereisnoin-between.
FourmoreminutesbeforeIfindout.
I’mmorenervousinthismomentthanIwasinthecourtroomfiveyearsago.Igriptherubberstarfishtightlyinmyhand.It’stheonlytoytheyhadforsaleatthegasstationnextdoortomyapartment.IcouldhavehadthecabdrivertakemetoTargetorWalmart,butthey’rebothintheoppositedirectionofwhereI’mhopingDiemstilllives,andIcan’taffordthatmuchcabfare.
AfterIgothiredatthegrocerystoretoday,Iwalkedhomeandtookanap.Ididn’twanttoshowupwhileDiemwasn’tatGraceandPatrick’s,andifAmyisrightandLedgerdoesn’thavekids,it’sareasonableassumptionthatthelittlegirlhecoachesinT-ballismydaughter.AndjudgingbytheamountofGatoradehebought,hewaspreparingforalongdaywithalotofteams,which,usingdeductivereasoning,wouldmeanitwouldbehoursbeforeDiemwasbackhome.
IwaitedaslongasIcould.Iknowthebaropensatfive,whichmeansLedgerwilllikelybetakingDiemhomebeforethen,andIreallydon’twantLedgertobetherewhenIarrive,soItimedmycabridetogetmethereatfivefifteen.
Ididn’twanttoarrivelaterthanthatbecauseIdon’twanttoshowupwhenthey’rehavingdinner,oraftershe’sgonetobed.Iwanttodoeverythingright.Idon’twanttodoanythingthatwillmakePatrickorGracefeelmorethreatenedbymypresencethantheyprobablyalreadywillbe.
Idon’twantthemtoaskmetoleavebeforeIcanevenpleadmycase.
Inaperfectworld,they’llopentheirfrontdoorformeandallowmetoreunitewiththedaughterI’veneverheld.
Inaperfectworld…theirsonwouldstillbealive.
IwonderwhatI’llseeintheireyeswhentheyfindmeattheirfrontdoor.Willitbeshock?Hatred?
HowmuchdoesGracedespiseme?
ItrytoputmyselfinGrace’sshoessometimes.
Itrytoimaginethehatredsheholdsforme—whatitmustfeellikefromherperspective.SometimesIlieinbedandclosemyeyesandtrytojustifyallthereasonsthiswomaniskeepingmefromknowingmydaughtersothatIdon’thateherback.
Ithink,Kenna—imagineyou’reGrace.
Imagineyouhaveason.
Abeautifulyoungmanthatyoulovemorethanlife,morethananyafterlife.Andhe’shandsome,andhe’saccomplished.Butmostimportantly,he’skind.Everyonetellsyouthis.Otherparentswishtheirchildrencouldbemorelikeyourson.Yousmilebecauseyou’reproudofhim.
You’resoproudofhim,evenwhenhebringshomehisnewgirlfriend,theoneyouheardmoaningtooloudinthemiddleofthenight.Thegirlfriendyousawlookingaroundtheroomwhileeveryoneelsewasprayingoverdinner.Thegirlfriendyoucaughtsmokingatelevenatnightonyourbackpatio,butyoudidn’tsayanything;youjusthopedyourperfectsonwouldoutgrowhersoon.
Imagineyougetaphonecallfromyourson’sroommate,askingifyouknowwhereheis.Hewassupposedtoshowupforworkearlythatday,butforwhateverreasonhedidn’tshow.
Imagineyourworry,becauseyoursonshows.Healwaysshows.
Imaginehedoesn’tanswerhiscellphonewhenyoucalltoseewhyhedidn’tshow.
Imagineyoustarttopanicasthehoursstretchon.Normally,youcanfeelhim,butyoucan’tfeelhimtoday;youfeelfulloffearandemptyofpride.
Imagineyoustarttomakephonecalls.Youcallhiscollege,youcallhisemployer,you’devencallthegirlfriendyoudon’tmuchcarefor,ifonlyyouknewhernumber.
Imagineyouhearacardoorslam,andyoubreatheasighofrelief,onlytofalltothefloorwhenyouseethepoliceatyourdoor.
Imaginehearingthingslike“I’msorry,”and“accident,”and“carwreck,”and“didn’tmakeit.”
Imagineyourselfnotdyinginthatmoment.
Imaginebeingforcedtogoon,tolivethroughthatawfulnight,towakeupthenextday,tobeaskedtoidentifyhisbody.
Hislifelessbody.
Abodyyoucreated,breathedlifeinto,grewinsideofyou,taughttowalkandtalkandrunandbekindtoothers.
Imaginetouchinghiscold,coldface,yourtearsfallingontotheplasticbaghe’stuckedinto,yourscreamstuckinyourthroat,silentlikethescreamsyou’vehadinnightmares.
Andyetyoustilllive.Somehow.
Somehowyougoonwithoutthelifeyoumade.Yougrieve.You’retooweaktoevenplanhisfuneral.Youkeepwonderingwhyyourperfectson,yourkindson,wouldbesoreckless.
Youaresodevastated,butyourheartkeepsbeating,overandover,remindingyouofalltheheartbeatsyoursonwillneverfeel.
Imagineitgetsevenworse.
Imaginethat.
Imaginewhenyouthinkyou’reatrockbottom,you’reintroducedtoawholenewcliffyougettofalloffwhenyou’retoldyoursonwasn’tevendrivingthecarthatwasgoingwaytoofastonthegravel.
Imaginebeingtoldthewreckwasherfault.Thegirlwhosmokedthecigaretteanddidn’tclosehereyesduringdinnerprayerandmoanedtooloudinyourquiethouse.
Imaginebeingtoldshewascarelessandsounkindwiththelifeyougrew.
Imaginebeingtoldshelefthimthere.“Fled,”theysaid.
Imaginebeingtoldtheyfoundherthenextday,inherbed,hungover,coveredinmudandgravelandyourkindson’sblood.
Imaginebeingtoldyourperfectsonhadaperfectpulseandmighthavelivedaperfectlifeifonlyhecouldhavehadthatwreckwithaperfectgirl.
Imaginefindingoutitdidn’thavetobethisway.
Hewasn’tevendead.Sixhourstheyestimatedhehadlived.Severalfeethehadcrawled,searchingforyou.Needingyourhelp.Bleeding.Dying.
Forhours.
Imaginefindingoutthatthegirlwhomoanedtooloudandsmokedthecigaretteonyourpatioateleveno’clockatnightcouldhavesavedhim.
Onephonecallshedidn’tmake.
Threenumberssheneverdialed.
Fiveyearssheservedforhislife,likeyoudidn’traisehimforeighteen,watchhimflourishonhisownforfour,andmaybecouldhavegottenfiftymoreyearswithhimhadshenotcutthemshort.
Imaginehavingtogoonafterthat.
Nowimaginethatgirl…theoneyouhopedyoursonwouldgrowoutof…imagineafterallthepainshe’scausedyou,shedecidestoshowbackupinyourlife.
Imagineshehasthenervetoknockonyourdoor.
Imagineshesmilesinyourface.
Asksaboutherdaughter.
Expectstobeapartofthetinylittlebeautifullifeyoursonmiraculouslyleftbehind.
Justimagineit.Imaginehavingtolookintotheeyesofthegirlwholeftyoursontocrawlseveralfeetduringhisdeathwhileshetookanapinherbed.
Imaginewhatyouwouldsaytoherafterallthistime.
Imagineallthewaysyoucouldhurtherback.
It’seasytoseewhyGracehatesme.
ThecloserIgettotheirhouse,themoreI’mstartingtohatemetoo.
I’mnotevensurewhyI’mherewithoutbeingmoreprepared.Thisisn’tgoingtobeeasy,andeventhoughI’vebeenpreparingmyselfforthismomenteverydayforfiveyears,I’veneveractuallyrehearsedit.
ThecabdriverturnsthecarontoScotty’soldstreet.IfeellikeI’msinkingintothebackseatwithaheavinessunlikeanythingI’veeverexperiencedbefore.
WhenIseetheirhouse,myfearbecomesaudible.Imakeanoiseinthebackofmythroatthatsurprisesme,butit’stakingalltheeffortinsidemetokeepmytearsatbay.
Diemcouldbeinsidethathouserightnow.
I’mabouttocrossayardthatDiemhasplayedin.
I’mabouttoknockonadoorthatDiemhasopened.
“Twelvedollarseven,”thedriversays.
Ifishfifteendollarsoutofmypocketandtellhimtokeepthechange.IfeellikeIfloatoutofthecar.It’ssuchaweirdfeeling;IglanceintothebackseattomakesureI’mnotstillsittingthere.
Icontemplateaskingthedrivertowait,butthatwouldbeprematurelyadmittingdefeat.I’llfigureouthowtogethomelater.Rightnow,Iclingtotheimpossibledreamthatit’llbehoursbeforeI’maskedtoleave.
ThedriverpullsawayassoonasIclosethedoor,andI’mleftstandingontheoppositesideofthestreetfromtheirhouse.Thesunisstillhangingbrightinthewesternsky.
IwishI’dhavewaiteduntildark.Ifeellikeanopentarget.Vulnerabletowhateverisabouttocomeatme.
Iwanttohide.
Ineedmoretime.
Ihaven’tevenpracticedwhatI’mgoingtosayyet.I’vethoughtaboutitconstantly,butI’veneverpracticedoutloud.
Mybreathsbecomeharderandhardertocontrol.Iputmyhandsonthebackofmyheadandbreatheinandout,inandout.
Theirlivingroomcurtainsaren’topen,soIdon’tfeellikemypresenceisknownyet.Isitdownonthecurbandtakeamomenttogathermyselfbeforewalkingoverthere.IfeellikemythoughtsarescatteredatmyfeetandIneedtopickthemuponeatatimeandplacetheminorder.
Apologize.
Expressmygratitude.
Begfortheirmercy.
Ishouldhavedressedbetter.I’minjeansandthesameMountainDewT-shirtIhadonyesterday.ItwasthecleanestoutfitIhad,butnowthatI’mlookingdownatmyself,Iwanttocry.Idon’twanttomeetmydaughterforthefirsttimewhilewearingaMountainDewT-shirt.HowarePatrickandGraceexpectedtotakemeseriouslywhenI’mnotevendressedseriously?
Ishouldn’thaverushedoverhere.Ishouldhavegiventhismorethought.I’mstartingtopanic.
IwishIhadafriend.
“Nicole?”
Iturntowardthesoundofhisvoice.IcranemyneckuntilmyeyesmeetLedger’s.Undernormalcircumstances,seeinghimherewouldshockme,butI’malreadyatmaxcapacityforthingstofeel,somythoughtprocessismorealongthelinesofanapathetic“Great.Ofcourse.”
There’sasharpintensityinthewayhe’slookingatmethatsendsachillupmyarms.“Whatareyoudoinghere?”heasks.
Fuck.Fuck.Fuck.“Nothing.”Fuck.Myeyesflickeracrossthestreet.ThenIlookbehindLedger,atwhatI’massumingishishouse.IrememberScottysayingLedgergrewupacrossthestreetfromhim.Whataretheoddsthathewouldstilllivehere?
Ihavenoideawhattodo.Istandup.Myfeetfeellikeweights.IlookatLedger,buthe’snolongerlookingatme.He’slookingacrossthestreetatScotty’soldhouse.
Herunsahandacrosshisjaw,andthere’safreshdisturbinglookonhisface.Hesays,“Whywereyoustaringatthathouse?”He’slookingattheground,thenacrossthestreet,thentowardthesun,butthenhiseyeslandonmeafterI’vefailedtoanswerhisquestion,andhe’sacompletelydifferentpersonthanthemanIsawatthegrocerystoretoday.
He’snolongerthefluidguywhomovesaroundthebarlikehe’sonRollerblades.
“Yournameisn’tNicole.”Hesaysitlikeit’sadepressingrealization.
Iwince.
He’sputitalltogether.
Nowhelookslikehewantstoripitallapart.
Hepointsathishouse.“Go.”Thewordissharpanddemanding.Itakeastepintothestreet,awayfromhim.Ifeelmyselfbegintotremble,justashestepsintothestreetandclosesthegapbetweenus.Hiseyesareonthehouseacrossthestreetagainashereacheshisarmaroundme,pressingafirmhandintomylowerback.Hebeginspushingmealongwithhimashepointstowardthehouseoppositewheremydaughterlives.“Getinsidebeforetheyseeyou.”
Iexpectedhe’deventuallyputthepiecestogether.Ijustwishhewouldhavemadetheconnectionlastnight.Notrightnow,whenI’monlyfifteenfeetawayfromher.
Ilookathishouse,thenlookatPatrickandGrace’shouse.Ihavenomethodofescapinghim.ThelastthingIwanttodorightnowiscauseascene.Mygoalwastoarrivepeacefullyandmakethisgoassmoothlyaspossible.Ledgerseemstowanttheopposite.
“Pleaseleavemealone,”Isaythroughclenchedteeth.“Thisisnoneofyourbusiness.”
“Thefuckitisn’t,”hehisses.
“Ledger,please.”Myvoiceshakesfrombothfearandtears.I’mscaredofhim,scaredofthismoment,scaredoftheideathatthisisgoingtobesomuchmoredifficultthanIfeared.Whyelsewouldhebepushingmeawayfromtheirproperty?
IlookbackatPatrickandGrace’shouse,butmyfeetkeepmovingtowardLedger’shouse.Iwouldputupafight,butatthispoint,I’mnolongersureI’mreadytofacetheLandrys.IthoughtIwasreadywhenIgotintothecabearlier,butnowthatI’mhereandLedgerismad,I’mabsolutelynotreadytofacethem.It’sobviousfromthelastfewminutesthatmyarrivalmighthavebeensomewhatanticipatedandisnotatallwelcomed.
TheywerelikelynotifiedwhenIwasreleasedintotransitionalhousing.Theyhadtobeexpectingthistohappeneventually.
Myfeetarenolongerweights.IfeellikeI’mfloatingagain,highintheairlikeaballoon,andI’mfollowingLedgerasifhe’spullingmealongbyastring.
Ifeelembarrassedtobehere.EmbarrassedenoughtofollowbehindLedgerlikeIhavenovoiceorthoughtsofmyown.Icertainlydon’thaveanyconfidenceinthissecond.Andmyshirtistoostupidforamomentofthismagnitude.I’mstupidforthinkingthiswasthewaytogoaboutit.
Ledgercloseshisdooroncewe’reinsidehislivingroom.Helooksdisgusted.Idon’tknowifit’satthesightofme,orifhe’sthinkingaboutlastnight.He’spacingthelivingroom,onepalmpressedagainsthisforehead.
“Isthatwhyyoushowedupatmybar?Youweretryingtotrickmeintoleadingyoutoher?”
“No.”Myvoiceispathetic.
Heslideshishandsdownhisfaceinfrustration.Hepausesandthenjustmutters,“Goddammit.”
Heissomadatme.WhydoIalwaysmaketheworstdecisions?
“You’vebeenintownforoneday.”Heswipeskeysoffatable.“Youreallythoughtthiswasagoodidea?Showingupthissoon?”
Thissoon?She’sfouryearsold.
Iclenchanarmovermychurningstomach.Idon’tknowwhattodo.WhatdoIdo?WhatcanIdo?Therehastobesomething.Somekindofcompromise.Theycan’tjustcollectivelydecidewhat’sbestforDiemwithoutconsultingme.
Canthey?
Theycan.
I’mtheunreasonableoneinthisscenario.I’vejustbeentooscaredtoadmitit.Iwanttoaskhimifthere’sanythingIcandotogetthemtohearmeout,butthewayhe’sglaringatmemakesmefeelcompletelyinthewrong.IbegintowonderifI’meveninapositiontoaskquestions.
Hisfocusfallstotherubberstarfishinmyhand.Hewalksovertomeandholdsouthishand.Iplacethestarfishinhispalm.Idon’tknowwhyIhanditover.MaybeifheseesIshowedupwithatoy,he’llknowI’mherewithgoodintentions.
“Really?Ateethingring?”Hetossesitonhiscouchlikeit’sthestupidestthinghe’severseen.“She’sfour.”Hewalkstowardhiskitchen.“I’mtakingyouhome.WaituntilIpullmytruckintothegarage.Idon’twantthemtoseeyou.”
InolongerfeellikeI’mfloating.Ifeelheavyandfrozen,likemyfeetaretrappedintheconcreteslabofhishouse.
IglanceoutthelivingroomwindowtowardPatrickandGrace’shouse.
I’msoclose.Allthatseparatesusisastreet.Anemptystreetwithnotraffic.
It’scleartomewhat’sgoingtohappennext.PatrickandGracewantnothingtodowithme,tothepointLedgerknewtointerceptmyarrival.Thismeanstherewon’tbeanynegotiating.TheforgivenessIwashopinghadfounditswaytothemnevermadeithere.
Theystillhateme.
Apparently,sodoeseveryoneelseintheirlives.
TheonlywayI’mgoingtobeabletoseemydaughterisif,bysomemiracle,Icantakeitthroughthecourtsystem,andthat’sgoingtotakemoneyIdon’tyethaveandyearsIcan’tbearthethoughtofpassingby.I’vealreadymissedsomuch.
IfIwanttoseeDiematall,ever,thisismyonlychance.IfIwanttheopportunitytobegScotty’sparentsforforgiveness,it’snowornever.
Nowornever.
Ledgerprobablywon’tnoticeI’mnotfollowinghimtohisgarageforanothertenseconds,atleast.Imightmakeitbeforehecatchesuptome.
IslipoutsideandrunasfastasIcanacrossthestreet.
I’mintheiryard.
MyfeetaresprintingacrossgrassDiemhasplayedon.
I’mbeatingontheirfrontdoor.
I’mringingtheirdoorbell.
I’mtryingtolookthroughthewindowtogetaglimpseofher.
“Please,”Iwhisper,knockingharder.MywhisperturnsintopanicasIhearLedgerapproachingmefrombehind.“I’msorry!”Iyell,beatingonthedoor.Myvoiceisafearfulpleanow.“I’msorry,I’msorry,pleaseletmeseeher!”
I’mbeingpulled,andthencarried,backtothehouseacrossthestreet.Eventhroughmystruggletogetoutofhisarms,I’mstaringatthatfrontdoorasitgetssmallerandsmaller,hopingforevenahalf-secondglimpseofmylittlegirl.
Idon’tseeanymovementatallintheirhousebeforeI’mnolongeroutside.I’mbackinsideLedger’shouse,beingdroppedontohiscouch.
He’sholdinghisphone,pacinghislivingroomashedialsaphonenumber.It’sonlythreedigits.He’scallingthepolice.
Ipanic.“No.”Plead.“No,no,no.”Ilungeacrosshislivingroominanattempttograbathisphone,buthejustputsahandonmyshoulderandsteersmebacktothecouch.
Isitdownandburymyelbowsintomyknees,bringingmyfingerstoashakypointagainstmymouth.“Pleasedon’tcallthepolice.Please.”Isitstill,wantingtoappearunthreatening,hopinghejustlooksmeintheeyelongenoughtofeelmypain.
Hiseyesmeetminejustastearsbegintofalldownmycheeks.Hepausesbeforecompletingthecall.Hestaresmedown…studyingme.Searchingmyfaceforapromise.
“Iwon’tcomeback.”Ifhecallsthepolice,thiswillnotlookgoodforme.Ican’thaveanythingaddedtomyrecord,eventhoughI’vebrokennolawsthatIknowof.Butjustbeinghereunwantedisenoughofamarkagainstme.
Hetakesastepcloser.“Youcannotcomebackhere.Sweartomewe’llneverseeyouagain,orI’llcallthepolicerightnow.”
Ican’t.Ican’tpromisehimthat.Whatelseisthereinmylifeotherthanmydaughter?She’sallIhave.She’swhyI’mstillalive.
Thiscan’tbehappening.
“Please,”Icry,notknowingwhatI’mevenbeggingfor.Ijustwantsomeonetolistentome.Tohearmeout.TounderstandhowmuchI’msuffering.IwanthimtobethemanImetinthebarlastnight.Iwanthimtopullmetohischest,tomakemefeellikeIhaveanally.Iwanthimtotellmeit’sgoingtobeokay,eventhoughIknowwitheverythinginmethatitwillnever,everbeokay.
Thenextseveralminutesareadefeatedblur.I’mamessofemotions.
IgetintoLedger’struck,andhedrivesmeawayfromtheneighborhoodmydaughterhasbeenraisedinherwholelife.I’mfinallyinthesametownasherafteralltheseyears,butI’veneverfeltfartherawayfromherthanIdointhismoment.
IpressmyforeheadtothepassengerwindowandIclosemyeyes,wishingIcouldstartoverfromthebeginning.
Theverybeginning.
Oratleastfast-forwardtotheend.CHAPTERTWELVE
LEDGER
It’stypicalforpeopletobepraisedindeath.Heraldedtothepointofheroismsometimes.ButnothinganyonesaidaboutScottywasembellishedforthesakeofrememberinghimfondly.Hewaseverythingeveryonesaidabouthim.Nice,funny,athletic,honest,charismatic,agoodson.Agreatfriend.
NotadaygoesbythatIdon’twishIcouldhavetradedplaceswithhim,inlifeandindeath.I’dgiveupthelifeI’vebeenlivinginaninstantifitmeanthecouldhavejustonedaywithDiem.
Idon’tknowthatI’dbethisangry—thisprotectiveoverDiem—ifKennahadjustsimplycausedtheaccident.Butshedidsomuchmorethanthat.Shewasdrivingwhensheshouldn’thavebeen,shewasspeeding,shewasdrinking,sheflippedthecar.
Andthensheleft.SheleftScottytheretodie,andshewalkedhomeandcrawledintobedbecauseshethoughtshecouldgetawaywithit.He’sdeadbecauseshewasscaredshe’dgetintrouble.
Andnowshewantsforgiveness?
Ican’tthinkaboutthedetailsofScotty’sdeathrightnow.Notwithhersittingnexttomeinthistruck,becauseI’dratherbedeadthanallowherthesatisfactionofknowingDiem.Ifitmeansdrivingusbothoffabridge,Imightjustbevengefulenoughtodothatrightnow.
Thefactthatshethoughtitwouldbeokaytoshowupisbafflingtome.I’mpissedshe’shere,butIthinkmyangerisamplifiedbytheknowledgethatsheknewwhoIwaslastnight.Whenwekissed,whenIheldher.
Ishouldn’thaveignoredmygut.Therewassomethingoffabouther.Shedoesn’tlookliketheKennaIsawinthearticlesfiveyearsago.Scotty’sKennahadlongblondehair.ButIneverreallylookedatherfacebackthen.Inevermetherinperson,butIfeellikeevenjustseeingamugshotofthegirlwhokilledmybestfriendshouldhavestuckinmyheadmore.
Ifeelstupid.I’mangry,I’mhurt,Ifeeltakenadvantageof.Eventodayinthestore,sheknewwhoIwas,yetgavemenohintastowhoshewas.
Icrackmywindowtogetsomefreshair,hopingit’llcalmmedown.MyknucklesarewhiteasIgripthesteeringwheel.
She’sstaringoutthewindow,unresponsive.Shemaybecrying.Idon’tknow.
Idon’tfuckingcare.
Idon’t.
Sheisn’tthegirlImetlastnight.Thatgirldoesn’texist.Shewaspretendingwithme,andIfellrightintohertrap.
Patrickexpressedconcernseveralmonthsagowhenwefoundoutshewasreleased.Hethoughtthismighthappen—thatshemightshowupwantingtomeetDiem.IevenputinaRingcameraonmyhousethatpointsattheirfrontyard.It’showIknewsomeonewassittingonthecurb.
ItoldPatrickhewassillytoworry.“Shewouldn’tshowup.Notafterwhatshedid.”
Igripthesteeringwheeleventighter.KennamighthavebroughtDiemintotheworld,butthat’swhereherclaimtoDiemends.
Whenherapartmentscomeintoview,Ipullthetruckintoaspotandputitinpark.Idon’tkilltheengine,butKennadoesn’tmakeamovetoexitmytruck.Ifiguredshe’djumpoutbeforeIevencametoacompletestoplikeshedidlastnight,butitlookslikethere’ssomethingshewantstosay.Ormaybeshejustdreadsgoingintothatapartmentasmuchassheprobablydreadsstayinginthistruck.
She’sstaringatherhandsfoldedtogetherinherlap.Shebringsherhandtotheseatbeltandreleasesit,butwhenshe’sfreefromit,sheremainsinthesameposition.
Diemlookslikeher.IalwaysassumedshedidsinceIdidn’tseemuchofScottyinDiem’sfeatures,butuntiltonightIhadnoideajusthowmuchsheresembleshermother.Theyhavethesamereddishshadeofbrownhair,straightandflat,notawaveoracurlinsight.ShehasKenna’seyes.
Maybethat’swhyIsawredflagslastnight.MysubconsciousrecognizedherbeforeIcould.
WhenKenna’seyesslideovertomine,Ifeelatugofdisappointmentinsideofme.Diemlookssomuchlikeherwhenshe’ssad.It’slikeI’mlookingintothefutureatwhoDiemisgoingtosomedaybe.
Idon’tlikethattheonepersonIdislikethemostinthisworldremindsmeofthepersonIlovethemost.
Kennawipeshereyes,butIdon’tleanoverandopenthegloveboxtoretrieveanapkin.ShecanusetheMountainDewshirtshe’sbeenwearingfortwodays.
“Ididn’tknowyoubeforeIshowedupatyourbarlastnight,”shesayswithatremblingvoice.“Iswear.”Herheadfallsbackagainsttheheadrest,andshestaresstraightahead.Herchestriseswithadeepinhale.Sheexhalesattheexactmomentmyfingermeetstheunlockbutton.Mycueforhertoexit.
“Idon’tcareaboutlastnight.IcareaboutDiem.That’sit.”
Iwatchatearasitskatesdownherjaw.IhatethatIknowwhatthosetearstastelike.Ihatethatpartofmewantstoreachoverandwipeitaway.
IwonderifshecriedasshewaswalkingawayfromScottythatnight?
Shemoveswithagracefulsadness,leaningforward,pressingherfaceintoherhands.Hermovementfillsmytruckwiththescentofhershampoo.Itsmellslikefruit.Apples.Irestmyelbowonmydoorframeandleanawayfromher,coveringmymouthandmynosewithmyhand.Ilookoutmywindow,notwantingtoknowanythingelseabouther.Idon’twanttoknowwhatshesmellslike,whatshesoundslike,whathertearslooklike,whatherpainmakesmefeellike.
“Theydon’twantyouinherlife,Kenna.”
Acrymixeswithagaspthatsoundslikeit’sfilledwithyearsofheartachewhenshesays,“She’smydaughter.”Hervoicedecidestoreconnectwithherspiritinthismoment.It’snolongerawispofairescapinghermouth.It’sfullofpanicanddesperation.
Igripmysteeringwheel,tappingitwithmythumbwhileIthinkofhowtosaywhatIneedforhertounderstand.
“Diemistheirdaughter.Yourrightswereterminated.Getoutofmytruck,andthendousallafavorandgobacktoDenver.”
Idon’tknowifthesobthatescapesherisevenreal.Shewipeshercheeksandthenopensthedoorandstepsoutofmytruck.Shefacesmebeforeclosingthedoor,andshelookssomuchlikeDiem;evenhereyeshavegrownashadelighterlikeDiem’sdowhenshecries.
Ifeelthatlookdeepwithinme,butIknowit’sonlybecauseofhowcloselysheresemblesDiem.I’mhurtingforDiem.Notforthiswoman.
Kennalookstornbetweenwalkingaway,respondingtome,orscreaming.Shehugsherselfandlooksatmewithtwohuge,devastatedeyes.Shetiltsherfaceuptowardtheskyforasecond,inhalingashakybreath.“Fuckyou,Ledger.”Thestingofagonyinhervoicemakesmeflinchinternally,butIremainasstoicaspossibleontheoutside.
Herwordsweren’tevenayell.Theywerejustaquietandpiercingstatement.
Sheslamsmytruckdoor,andthenslapsmywindowwithbothofherpalms.“Fuckyou!”
Idon’twaitforhertosayitathirdtime.Ithrowthetruckinreverseandpullbackontothestreet.Mystomachisinaknotthatfeelstetheredtoherfist.ThefartherIgetfromher,themoreIfeelitunravel.
Idon’tknowwhatIexpected.I’vehadthisvisionofherinmyheadalltheseyears.Agirlwithnoremorseforwhatshe’sdone.Amotherwithnoattachmenttothechildshebroughtintotheworld.
Fiveyearsofpreconceivedyetsolidnotionsaren’teasytoletgoof.Kennahasbeenonewayandonewayonlyinmymind.Unremorseful.Uninvolved.Uncaring.Unworthy.
Ican’treconciletheemotionalturmoilsheseemstosufferfromnotbeingpartofDiem’slifewiththelackofregardsheheldforScotty’slife.
IdriveawaywhilethinkingofamillionthingsIshouldhavesaid.AmillionquestionsIstilldon’thaveanswersto.
“Whydidn’tyoucallforhelp?”
“Whydidyouleavehimthere?”
“Whydoyouthinkyoudeservetocauseanotherupheavalinthelivesyou’vealreadydestroyed?”
“WhydoIstillwanttohugyou?”CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
KENNA
IfeellikeI’mlivingmyworst-casescenario.NotonlydidInotgettomeetmydaughtertoday,buttheonlypersonwhomighthavebeenabletoleadmetoherisnowenemynumberone.
Ihatehim.IhatethatIlethimtouchmelastnight.IhatethatinthebrieftimeIspentwithhimyesterday,Igavehimalltheammunitiontolabelmealiar,awhore,analcoholic.Asifmurdererwasn’tenough.
He’sgoingtogostraighttoGraceandPatrickandreinforcetheirhatredforme.He’sgoingtohelpthembuildanevensturdier,taller,thickerwallbetweenmeandmydaughter.
Ihavenooneonmyside.Notasingleperson.
“Hi.”
Ipausehalfwayupthestairwell.There’sateenagegirlsittingatthetopofthestairs.ShehasDownsyndrome,andshe’ssmilingatmeadorably,likethisisn’ttheworstdayofmylife.She’swearingthesametypeofworkshirtthatAmyhadonatthegrocerystore.Shemustworkthere.Amysaidtheygivegrocerybaggerpositionstopeoplewithspecialneeds.
Iwipetearsfrommycheeksandmutter,“Hi,”andthensidesteparoundher.Iwouldnormallymakemoreofanefforttobeneighborly,especiallyifI’mgoingtobeworkingwiththisgirl,butIhavemoretearsinmythroatthanwords.
Iopenmyapartmentdoor,andonceI’minside,Islamitshutandfallfacedownontomyhalf-deflatedmattress.
Ican’tevensayI’mbacktosquareone.IfeellikeI’matsquarenegativeonenow.
Mydoorswingsopen,andIimmediatelysitup.Thegirlfromthestairswalksintomyapartmentuninvited.“Whyareyoucrying?”Sheclosesthedoorbehindherandleansagainstit,scanningmyapartmentwithcuriouseyes.“Whydon’tyouhaveanystuff?”
Eventhoughshejustbargedinwithoutpermission,I’mtoosadtobeupsetaboutit.Shedoesn’thaveboundaries.Goodtoknow.
“Ijustmovedin,”Isay,explainingmylackofstuff.
Thegirlwalkstomyrefrigeratorandopensit.Sheseesthehalf-eatenpackageofLunchablesIleftthismorning,andshegrabsit.“CanIhavethis?”
Atleastshewaitsforpermissionbeforesheeatsit.“Sure.”
Shetakesabiteoutofacracker,butthenhereyesgetwideandshetossestheLunchablesonthecounter.“Oh,youhaveakitten!”Shewalksovertothekittenandpicksherup.“Mymomwon’tletmehaveakitten—didyougetitfromRuth?”
Anyothertime,I’dwelcomeher.Really.ButIjustdon’thavethestrengthtobefriendlyduringoneoftheworstmomentsofmylife.Ineedtohaveadecentbreakdown,andIcan’tdothatwithherhere.“Canyoupleasego?”Isayitasnicelyaspossible,butaskingsomeonetoleaveyoualonecannevernotsting
“OnetimewhenIwaslikefive,I’mseventeennow,butwhenIwasfive,Ihadakitten,butitgotwormsanddied.”
“I’msorry.”Shestillhasn’tclosedtherefrigerator.
“What’shername?”
“Ihaven’tnamedheryet.”Didshenothearmeaskhertoleave?
“Whyareyousopoor?”
“WhatmakesyouthinkI’mpoor?”
“Youdon’thaveanyfoodorabedorstuff.”
“I’vebeeninprison.”Maybethat’llscareheroff.
“Mydadisinprison.Doyouknowhim?”
“No.”
“ButIhaven’teventoldyouhisname.”
“Iwasinanall-femaleprison.”
“AbleDarby.That’shisname,doyouknowhim?”
“No.”
“Whyareyoucrying?”
Igetoffthemattressandwalktotherefrigeratorandshutit.
“Didsomeonehurtyou?Whyareyoucrying?”
Ican’tbelieveI’mgoingtoanswerher.Ifeellikethismakesmeevenmorepathetic,tojustventtoarandomteenagerwhowalkedintomyapartmentwithoutmypermission.Butitseemslikeitwouldfeelgoodtosayitoutloud.“Ihaveadaughter,andnoonewillletmeseeher.”
“Didshegetkidnapped?”
Iwanttosayyes,becausesometimesitfeelsthatway.“No.MydaughterlivedwithpeoplewhileIwasinprison,butnowthatI’mout,theydon’twantmetoseeher.”
“Butyouwantto?”
“Yes.”
Shekissesthekittenontopofitshead.“Maybeyoushouldbeglad.Idon’treallylikelittlekids.Mybrotherputspeanutbutterinmyshoessometimes.What’syourname?”
“Kenna.”
“I’mLadyDiana.”
“Isthatreallyyourname?”
“No,it’sLucy,butIlikeLadyDianabetter.”
“Doyouworkatthegrocerystore?”Iaskher,pointingathershirt.
Shenods.
“IstartworkthereonMonday.”
“I’veworkedthereforalmosttwoyears.I’msavingtobuyacomputer,butIhaven’tsavedanythingyet.I’mgonnagoeatdinnernow.”Shehandsmethekittenandstartswalkingtowardmydoor.“Ihavesomesparklers.Whenitgetsdarklater,doyouwanttolightthemwithme?”
Ileanagainstmycounterandsigh.Idon’twanttosayno,butIalsohaveafeelingmybreakdownisgoingtolastatleastuntilmorning.“Maybeanothertime.”
LadyDianaleavesmyapartment.Ilockthedoorthistime,andthenIimmediatelygrabmynotebookandwritealettertoScottybecauseit’stheonlythingthatcanpreventmefromcrumbling.
DearScotty,
IwishIcouldtellyouwhatourdaughterlookslike,butIstillhavenoidea.
Maybeit’smyfaultfornotbeinghonestwithLedgeraboutwhoIwaslastnight.HeseemedtotakethatassometypeofbetrayalwhenherealizedwhoIwastoday.Ididn’tevengettoseeyourparentsbecausehewassoangryIwasthere.
Ijustwantedtoseeourdaughter,Scotty.Ijustwantedtolookather.I’mnotheretotakeherfromthem,butIdon’tthinkLedgeroryourparentshaveanyideawhatit’sliketocarryahumaninsideofyouformonths,onlytohavethattinylittlehumanrippedawayfromyoubeforeyouevengettomeetthem.
Didyouknowthatwhenanincarceratedwomangivesbirth,ifthey’realmostfinishedwiththeirsentence,theysometimesgettokeeptheirbabieswiththem?Thismostlyhappensinjails,wherethesentencesareshorter.Itsometimeshappensinprisons,butit’srare.
Inmycase,IwasjustbeginningmysentencewhenIgavebirthtoDiem,whichmadeittowhereshewasn’tallowedtostaywithmeintheprison.Shewasapreemie,andassoonasshewasborn,theynoticedherbreathingwasn’twheretheywantedittobe,sotheyimmediatelywhiskedherawayandtransferredhertotheNICU.Theygavemeanaspirin,someoversizedpads,andeventuallytookmebacktothefacilitywithemptyarmsandanemptywomb.
Dependingonthecircumstances,somemothersareallowedtopump,andtheirbreastmilkisstoredanddeliveredtotheirbaby.Iwasn’toneoftheluckyones.Iwasn’tallowedtopump,andIwasn’tallowedanythingthatwouldhelpmymilkdryup.
FivedaysafterDiemwasborn,Iwasintheprisonlibrary,cryinginacornerbecausemymilkhadcomein,myclothesweresoakingwet,andIwasstillemotionallydevastatedandphysicallyspent.
That’swhenImetIvy.
Shehadbeenthereforawhile,knewalltheguardswell,alltherules,howfarshecouldbendthemandwhowouldlether.Shesawmecryingwhileholdingabookaboutpostpartumdepression.Thenshesawmysoakingwetshirt,soshetookmetoabathroomandhelpedmecleanup.ShemeticulouslyfoldeduppapertowelsintosquaresandhandedthemtomeonebyonewhileIlayeredtheminsidemybra
“Boyorgirl?”sheasked.
“Girl.”
“What’dyounameher?”
“Diem.”
“That’sagoodname.Astrongname.Shehealthy?”
“Shewasapreemie,sotheytookherassoonasshewasborn.Butanursesaidshewasdoingwell.”
IvywincedwhenIsaidthat.“Theygonnaletyouseeher?”
“No.Idon’tthinkso.”
Ivyshookherhead,andIdidn’tknowitthen,butIvyhadawayofcommunicatingentireconversationsthroughallthedifferentwayssheshookherhead.I’dslowlylearnthemovertheyears,butthatday,Ididn’tknowthewaysheshookherheadtranslatedto,“Thosebastards.”
Shehelpedmedrymyshirt,andwhenwegotbacktothelibrary,shesatmebackdownandsaid,“Here’swhatyou’regonnado.You’regonnareadeverybookinthislibrary.Prettysoonyou’llstarttoliveinthelavishworldsinsidethesebooks,ratherthanthebleakworldinsidethisprison.”
Iwasneverabigreader.Ididn’tlikeherplan.Inodded,butshecouldtellIwasn’tlisteningtoher.
Shepulledabookofftheshelfandhandedittome.“Theytookyourbabyfromyou.Youwon’tevergetoverthat.So,youdeciderightnow,righthere.Areyougonnaliveinyoursadnessorareyougonnadieinit?”
Thatquestionpunchedmeinmystomach—thestomachthatnolongercontainedmydaughter.Ivywasn’tgivingmeapep-talk.Inalotofways,itwastheopposite.Shewasn’tsayingIwouldmovepastwhatIwasfeeling,orthatthingswouldgeteasier.Shewastellingmethiswasit—themiseryIfeltwasmynewnormal.IcouldeitherlearntolivewithitorIcouldletitconsumeme.
Iswallowedandsaid,“I’mgonnaliveinit.”
Ivysmiledandsqueezedmyarm.“Thereyougo,Momma.”
Ivydidn’tknowit,butshesavedmethatdaywithherbrutalhonesty.Shewasright.Mynormalwouldneverbethesame.Ithadn’tbeenthesamesinceIlostyou,andlosingourdaughtertoyourparentsjustpushedmeevenfurtherfromcenter.
ThewayIfeltwhentheytookherfrommebackthenistheexactsamedefeatedmiseryIfeelrightnow.
Ledgerhasnoideahowmuchhisactionstonighthavebrokenthelastfewpiecesofme.
Ivyhasnoideahowmuchherwordsfromalmostfiveyearsagoarestillsomehowsavingme.
Maybethat’swhatI’llnamethekitten.Ivy.
Love,
KennaCHAPTERFOURTEEN
LEDGER
I’vereceivedthreecallsfromPatrickonmydrivebacktothehouse,butIhaven’tansweredanyofthembecauseI’mtooangryatKennatohaveaconversationaboutheroverthephone.IwashopingtheLandrysdidn’thearherbeatingontheirdoor,butit’sobvioustheydid.
PatrickiswaitinginmyyardwhenIpullbackintomydriveway.He’stalkingbeforeIevengetoutofthetruck.
“Whatdoesshewant?”heasks.“Graceisamess.Doyouthinkshe’sgoingtotrytofightthetermination?Thelawyersaiditwouldbeimpossible.”He’sstillspittingquestionsatmeashefollowsmeintothekitchen.
Itossmykeysonthetable.“Idon’tknow,Patrick.”
“Shouldwegetarestrainingorder?”
“Idon’tthinkyouhavegroundstodothat.Shehasn’tthreatenedanyone.”
Hepacesthekitchen,andIwatchasheseemstogrowsmallerandsmaller.Ipourhimaglassofwaterandhandittohim.Hedownsthewholethingandthentakesaseatononeofthebarstools.Hedropshisheadintohishands.“ThelastthingDiemneedsisforthatwomantobeinandoutofherlife.AfterwhatshedidtoScotty…wecan’t…”
“Shewon’tshowuphereagain,”Isay.“She’stooafraidofhavingthecopscalledonher.”
Mycommentonlyheightenshisworry.“Why?Isshetryingtokeepherrecordcleanincaseshecantakeustocourt?”
“Shelivesinashithole.Idoubtshehasmoneytohireanattorney.”
Hestandsup.“She’slivinghere?”
Inod.“ParadiseApartments.Idon’tknowhowlongsheplanstostay.”
“Shit,”hemutters.“ThisisgoingtodestroyGrace.Idon’tknowwhattodo.”
Idon’thaveanyadviceforhim.AsinvolvedasIaminherlife,I’mnotDiem’sfather.Ihaven’tbeentheoneraisinghersinceshewasborn.Thisisn’tmyfight,eventhoughI’vesomehowimmersedmyselfinthemiddleofit.
Imaynothavelegalsay,butIhaveopinions.Strongones.Asmuchastheentiresituationdoesn’thaveonesinglepositiveoutcomeforallpartiesinvolved,thesimpletruthisthatbeingapartofDiem’slifeisaprivilege,andKennalostthatprivilegethenightshedecidedherfreedomwasworthmorethanScotty’slife.
Graceisn’tstrongenoughtofaceKenna.Patrickmaynotbestrongenough,either,butPatrickhasalwaysmadesuretoatleastpretendtobeasstrongasGraceneedshimtobe.
He’dneveractthisdistraughtinfrontofGrace.HesavesthissideofhimselfforthemomentsScotty’sdeathgetstobetoomuch.Themomentsheneedstoescapeandcryaloneinmybackyard.
SometimesIcanseethembothstarttounravel.ItalwayshappensinFebruary,themonthofScotty’sbirthday.ButthenDiem’sbirthdaycomesaroundinMay,anditbreathesnewlifebackintothem.
That’swhatKennaneedstounderstand.GraceandPatrickareonlyalivebecauseofDiem.She’sthethreadthatkeepsthemfromunraveling.
There’snoroomforKennainthispicture.Somethingscanbeforgiven,butsometimesanactionissopainfulthememoryofitcanstillcrushapersontenyearsdowntheroad.PatrickandGracegetbybecauseDiemandIhelpthemforgetaboutwhathappenedtoScottylongenoughforthemtogetthrougheachday.ButifKennaisaround,hisdeathwillslaptheminthefaceoverandoverandoveragain.
Patrick’seyesareclosed,andhishandsareinapointagainsthischin.Itlookslikehe’ssayingasilentprayer.
Ileanforwardoverthebarandtrytokeepmyvoicereassuring.“Diemissafefornow.Kennaistooscaredtohavethecopscalledonherandtoobroketostartacustodybattle.You’vegottheadvantage.I’msureaftertonightshe’llcutherlossesandheadbacktoDenver.”
Patrickstaresatthefloorforabouttenseconds.Icanseetheweightofeverythinghe’sbeenthroughsettledsquarelyonhisshoulders.
“Ihopeso,”hesays.Heheadsforthefrontdoor,andoncehe’sgone,Iclosemyeyesandexhale.
EveryreassuringthingIjustsaidtohimwasalie.BasedonwhatIknowofKennanow—howeverlittleknowledgethatmaybe—Igetthefeelingthisisfarfromover.
“Youseemdistracted,”Romansays.Hetakesaglassfrommeandstartspouringabeeracustomerhashadtoorderfrommethreetimesalready.“Maybeyoushouldtakeabreak.You’reslowingusdown.”
“I’mfine.”
RomanknowsI’mnotfine.EverytimeIlookathim,he’swatchingme.Tryingtofigureoutwhat’sgoingonwithme.
Itrytoworkforanotherhour,butit’sSaturdaynightandit’sloud,andeventhoughwehaveathirdbartenderonSaturdaynights,Romanisright,I’mslowingusdownandmakingitworse,soIeventuallygotakethedamnbreak.
Isitonthestepsinthealley,andIlookupattheskyandwonderwhatthehellScottywoulddorightnow.Hewasalwayssolevelheaded.Idon’tthinkhegotthatfromhisparents,though.Maybehedid,Idon’tknow.Maybeit’sharderforthemtothinkwithalevelheadwhentheyhavesuchbrokenhearts.
Thedooropensbehindme.Ilookovermyshoulder,andRomanisslippingoutside.Hesitsnexttome.Hedoesn’tsayanything.That’shiswayofopeningthefloorformetospeak.
“Kennaisback.”
“Diem’smother?”
Inod.
“Shit.”
Irubmyeyeswithmyfingers,relievingsomeofthepressurefromtheheadachethat’sbeenbuildingallday.“Ialmosthadsexwithherlastnight.Inmytruck,afterthebarclosed.”
Hehasnoimmediatereactiontothat.Iglanceoverathim,andhe’sjuststaringblanklyatme.Thenhebringsahandtohisfaceandrubsitoverhismouth.
“Youwhat?”Romanstandsupandwalksoutintothealley.He’sstaringathisfeet,processingwhatI’vejustsaid.HelooksasshockedasIfeltwhenIputtwoandtwotogetheroutsidemyhouse.“IthoughtyouhatedDiem’smother.”
“Ididn’tknowshewasDiem’smotherlastnight.”
“Howcouldyounotknow?Shewasyourbestfriend’sgirlfriend,right?”
“Inevermether.Isawapictureofheronce.Andmaybehermugshot,Ithink.Butshehadlongblondehairbackthen—lookedcompletelydifferent.”
“Wow,”Romansays.“Didsheknowwhoyouwere?”
Istilldon’tknowtheanswertothat,soIjustshrug.Shedidn’tseemsurprisedtoseemeoutsidemyhouseearlier.Shejustseemedupset.
“SheshowedupandtriedtomeetDiemtoday.Andnow…”Ishakemyhead.“Ifuckedup,Roman.PatrickandGracedon’tneedthis.”
“Doesshehaveanyrightsasaparent?”
“Herrightswereterminatedbecauseofthelengthofherprisonsentence.We’vejustbeenhopingshewouldn’tshowupandwanttobeapartofherlife.Imean,theyfearedit.Wealldid.Iguesswejustassumedwe’dhavesomekindofwarning.”
Romanclearshisthroat.“Imean,tobefair,thewomangavebirthtoDiem.Ithinkthatwasyourwarning.”Romanlikestoplaydevil’sadvocateineverythinghedoes.Itdoesn’tsurprisemehe’sdoingitnow.“What’stheplan?AretheygoingtoletDiemmeethermothernowthattheyknowshewantstobeinvolved?”
“ItwouldbetoohardonPatrickandGraceifKennawereintheirlives.”
Romanmakesaface.“How’sKennagoingtotakethat?”
“Idon’treallycarehowKennafeels.Nograndparentshouldbeforcedtohavetosetupvisitationwiththeirson’smurderer.”
Romanraisesabrow.“Murderer.That’sabitdramatic.HeractionsledtoScotty’sdeath,sure.Butthegirlisn’tsomecold-bloodedmurderer.”Hekicksapebbleacrossthepavement.“Ialwaysthoughttheywerealittletooharshonher.”
Romandidn’tknowmebackwhenScottydied.Heonlyknowsthestory.Butifhehadbeenaroundfiveyearsagotoseehowitaffectedeveryone,andhestillsomehowmanagedtosaywhathejustsaid,I’dhavepunchedhimforit.
Buthe’sjustbeingRoman.Devil’sadvocate.Uninformed.
“Whathappenedwhensheshowedup?What’dtheysaytoher?”
“Shedidn’tmakeitthatfar.Iinterceptedherinthestreetanddroppedheroffatherapartment.ThenItoldhertogobacktoDenver.”
Romanshoveshishandsinhispockets.Iwatchhisface,lookingforthejudgment.“Howlongagowasthis?”heasks.
“It’sbeenafewhours.”
“Youaren’tworriedabouther?”
“Who?Diem?”
Heshakeshisheadwithasmalllaugh,likeI’mnotfollowing.“I’mtalkingaboutKenna.Doesshehavefamilyhere?Friends?Ordidyoudropheroffaloneaftertellinghertofuckoff?”
Istandupandbrushthebackofmyjeans.Iknowwhathe’sgettingat,butit’snotmyproblem.Atleastthat’swhatIkeeptellingmyself.
“Maybeyoushouldgocheckonher,”hesuggests.
“I’mnotgoingtocheckonher.”
Romanlooksdisappointed.“You’rebetterthanthis.”
Icanfeelmypulsehammeringinmythroat.Idon’tknowifI’mmorepissedathimoratKennarightnow.
Romantakesastepcloser.“She’sresponsiblefortheaccidentaldeathofsomeoneshewasinlovewith.Asifthatwasn’thardenough,shewenttoprisonforitandwasforcedtogiveupherownchild.Shefinallyshowsbackuphopingtomeether,andyoudoGodknowswhatwithherinyourtruck,andthenyoupreventherfrommeetingherdaughter,andthenyoutellhertofuckoff.Nowonderyou’vebeenslammingshitaroundallnight.”Hewalksbackupthesteps,butbeforehegoesinside,heturnstomeandsays,“You’rethereasonI’mnotdeadinaditchsomewhere,Ledger.Yougavemeachancewheneveryoneelsegaveuponme.YouhavenoideahowmuchIlookuptoyouforthat.Butit’sreallyhardtolookuptoyourightnow.You’reactinglikeanasshole.”Romanwalksbackinsidethebar.
Istareatthedoorafteritcloses,andthenIhitit.“Fuck!”
Istartpacinginthealley.ThemoreIpace,theguiltierIfeel.
I’vebeenunequivocallyonPatrickandGrace’ssidesincethedayIfoundoutwhathappenedtoScotty,butthemoresecondsthatpassbetweenRoman’swordsandmynextdecision,themoreuneasyIfeelaboutitall.
Therearetwopossibilitiesrunningthroughmyheadrightnow.ThefirstisthatKennaisexactlywhoI’vealwaysbelievedhertobe,andsheshoweduphereselfishly,onlythinkingofherselfandnotatallthinkingofwhatherpresencewoulddotoPatrickandGrace,orevenDiem.
ThesecondpossibilityisthatKennaisadevastated,grievingmotherwhosimplyachesforachildshedesperatelywantstodorightby.Andifthat’sthecase,Idon’tknowthatI’mokaywithhowIleftthingstonight.
WhatifRomanisright?WhatifIrippedawayeveryounceofhopeshehadleft?Ifso,wheredoesthatleaveher?Aloneinanapartmentwithnofuturetolookforwardto?
ShouldIbeworried?
ShouldIcheckonher?
Ipacethealleybehindthebarforseveralmoreminutes,untilIfinallyaskmyselfthequestionthatkeepscirclingbackaround.WhatwouldScottydo?
Scottyalwayssawthebestinpeople,eveninthosewhoIfailedtofindgoodinatall.Ifhewerehere,Icanonlyimaginehowhewouldberationalizingallofthis.
“Youweretooharsh,Ledger.Everyonedeservesthebenefitofthedoubt,Ledger.Youwon’tbeabletolivewithyourselfifshetakesherownlife,Ledger.”
“Fuck,”Imutter.“Fuck,fuck,fuck.”
Idon’tknowKenna’spersonalityatall.ThereactionshehadearliercouldjustbedramaticsforallIknow.Butshecouldalsobeinareallydarkplace,andIcan’tsleepwiththatonmyconscience.
IfeelunsettledandfrustratedasIgetinmytruckandheadbacktoherplace.
MaybeIshouldfeelasenseofreliefthatInowthinkRomanwaswrong,butIjustfeelpissed.
Kennaisn’tholedupinsideherapartment.She’soutside,lookinglikeshedoesn’thaveacareinthisworld.She’splayingwithfuckingfireworks.Sparklers.Herandsomegirl,twirlingaroundinthegrasslikeshe’sakidandnotagrown-assadultwho,justhoursearlier,actedlikeherworldwascomingtoanend.
Shedidn’tseemepullupbecauseherbackwastotheparkinglot,andshehasn’tnoticedI’vebeensittinghereforseveralminutes.
Shelightsanothersparklerforthegirl,whothenproceedstomakeamaddashwithhersparklerandleavetrailsoflightwithherasshedisappearsaroundthecorner.
OnceKennaisalone,shepressesherpalmstohereyesandtiltsherfaceuptothesky.Shestandslikethatforafewseconds.ThenshewipeshereyeswithherT-shirt.
ThegirlreappearsandKennasmiles,thenthegirldisappears,andKennaletsherfacefallbackintoafrown.
She’sjustturningitonandoffandonandoff,andIdon’tlikethatIlikethatshe’spretendingnottobesadeverytimethatgirlcomesrunningbacktoher.MaybeRomanwasright.
Thegirlreturnsoncemoreandhandsheranothersparkler.Asshe’slightingit,Kennalooksupandspotsmytruck.Herwholebodyseemstoshrivel,butsheforcesasmiletowardthegirlandmakesamotionforthegirltorunaroundthebuilding.Assoonasthegirlisgoneagain,Kennabeginstoheadinmydirection
It’sobviousI’vebeensittingherewatchingher.Idon’teventrytohidethat.Iunlockmydoorrightbeforeshereachesmytruckandclimbsinside.
Sheslamsthedoor.“Areyouherewithgoodnews?”
Ishiftinmyseat.“No.”
Sheopensthedoorandstartstogetout.
“Wait,Kenna.”
Shepauses,andthenclosesthedoorandremainsinmytruck.It’ssoquiet.Shesmellslikegunpowderandmatches,andthere’sastrangecurrentinsidethistruckthat’ssopalpableIexpectthewholedamntrucktoexplode.Butitdoesn’t.Nothinghappens.Noonespeaks.
Ifinallyclearmythroat.“Areyougonnabeokay?”Myconcernisburiedbeneathastone-coldexterior,soIknowmyquestionseemsforced,asifIdon’tcarewhattheresponsemightbe.
Kennatriestogetoutofthetruckagain,butIgrabherwrist.Hereyesmeetmine.
“Areyougonnabeokay?”Irepeat.
Shestareshardatmewithherswollen,redeyes.“Areyou…”Sheshakesherhead,seeminglyconfused.“Areyouherebecauseyou’reafraidImightkillmyself?”
Idon’tlikehowsheseemstowanttolaughatmyconcern.“AmIworriedyouaren’tinagoodheadspace?”Iask,reframingherquestion.“Yeah.Iam.Iwantedtomakesureyouwereokay.”
Herheadtiltsslightlytotherightassheturnsherwholebodysothatshe’sfacingmeinherseat.Hershoulder-lengthstrandsofstraighthairleanwithher.“That’snotit,”shesays.“You’reworriedifIendmylife,you’llbeleftfeelingguiltythatyou’vebeensounbearablycrueltome.That’swhyyoucameback.Youdon’tcareifIactuallykillmyself—youjustdon’twanttobetheimpetusformydecision.”Sheshakesherheadwithashallowlaugh.“Youdidit.Youcheckedonme.Yourconscienceisclearnow,goodbye.”
Kennagoestoopenherdoor,andthegirlshewaslightingsparklersforsuddenlyappearsatherpassengerwindow.Hernoseispressedagainsttheglass.
“Rolldownthiswindow,”Kennasaystome.
IturnmykeysothatIcanrolldownherwindow.Thegirlleansin,smilingatus.“AreyouKenna’sdad?”
Herquestionissooutofleftfield,Ican’thelpbutlaugh.Kennalaughstoo.
DiemhasScotty’slaughandsmile.Kenna’slaughisherown.OneIhaven’theardbeforethissecond.OneIwanttohearagain.
“He’sdefinitelynotmydad,”Kennasays.Shecutshereyestomine.“He’stheguyItoldyouaboutearlier.Theonekeepingmefrommylittlegirl.”Kennaopensherdoorandhopsout.
Sheslamsmytruckdoor,andthentheteenagegirlleansinthepassengerwindowandsays,“Jerk.”
Kennagrabsthegirl’shandandpullsherawayfromthetruck.“Comeon,LadyDiana.He’snotonourside.”Kennawalksawaywiththegirlandshedoesn’tlookback,nomatterhowmuchIwanthertoanddon’twantherto,andfuck,mybrainisapretzel
I’mnotsureIcouldbeonhersideevenifIwantedtobe.ThiswholesituationcontainssomanynooksandcranniesandcornersIgetthefeelingchoosingsidesisgoingtobethedownfallofallofus.CHAPTERFIFTEEN
KENNA
Here’sthething.
Itshouldn’tmatterifamotherisn’tperfect.Itshouldn’tmatterifshe’smadeonebig,horriblemistakeinthepast,oralotoflittleones.Ifshewantstoseeherchild,sheshouldbeallowedtoseeher,evenifit’sjustonce.
Iknowfromexperiencethatifyou’regoingtogrowupwithanimperfectmother,it’sbettertogrowupknowingyourimperfectmotherisfightingforyouthantogrowupknowingshedoesn’tgiveashitaboutyou.
Thereweretwoyearsofmylife—notconsecutive—thatwerespentinfostercare.Mymotherwasn’tanaddictoranalcoholic.Shejustwasn’taverygoodmother.
HerneglectwasvalidatedwhenIwassevenandsheleftmealoneforaweekwhensomeguyshemetatthedealershipwheresheworkedofferedtoflyhertoHawaii.
AneighbornoticedIwashomealone,andeventhoughmymothertoldmetolieifanyoneasked,Iwastooscaredtoliewhenthesocialworkershowedupatourdoor.
Iwasplacedintoafosterfamilyforninemonthswhilemymotherworkedtogetherrightsback.Therewerealotofkidsandalotofrulesanditfeltmorelikeastrictsummercamp,sowhenmymotherfinallyregainedcustodyofme,Iwasrelieved.
ThesecondtimeIwasplacedinfostercare,Iwasten.Iwastheonlyfosterchild,placedwithawomaninhersixtiesnamedMona,andIstayedwithherforalmostayear.
Monawasn’tanythingspectacular,butthesimplefactthatshewatchedmovieswithmeeverynowandthen,cookeddinnereverynight,anddidlaundrywasmorethanmyownmothereverdid.Monawasaverage.Shewasquiet,shewasn’tveryfunny,shewasn’tevenallthatfun,butshewaspresent.Shemademefeeltakencareof.
IrealizedduringtheyearthatIwaswithMonathatIdidn’tneedmymothertobespectacular,orevengreat.Ijustwantedmymothertobeadequateenoughtonothavethestateinterveneinherparenting.Thatisn’ttoomuchforachildtoaskoftheparentwhogavethemlife.“Justbeadequate.Keepmealive.Don’tleavemealone.”
WhenmymotherregainedcustodyofmeforthesecondtimeandIhadtoleaveMona,itwasdifferentthanthefirsttimeIwasreturnedtoher.Iwasn’texcitedtoseeher.IhadturnedelevenwhilelivingwithMona,andIcamehomewithalltheappropriateemotionsaneleven-year-oldwoulddevelopwithamotherlikemine.
IknewthatIwasgoingbacktoanenvironmentwhereIwouldhavetofendformyself,andIwasn’thappy.Iwasbeingreturnedtoamotherwhowasn’tevenadequate.
Ourrelationshipnevergotbackontrackafterthat.MymotherandIcouldn’thaveaconversationwithoutitturningintoafight.Afterafewyearsofthis,whenIwasaroundfourteen,sheeventuallystoppedtryingtoparentme,andinsteaditfeltlikeIhadbecomeherenemy.
ButIwasself-sufficientbythenanddidn’tneedmymothercomingintwiceaweekandpretendingshehadanysayovermewhensheknewnothingaboutmylife,orwhoIwasasaperson.WelivedtogetheruntilIgraduatedhighschool,butwewerenotfriendsandtherewasnorelationshipbetweenuswhatsoever.Whenshespoketome,herwordswereinsults.Becauseofthat,Ieventuallyjuststoppedspeakingtoher.Ipreferredtheneglectovertheverbalabuse.
BythetimeImetScotty,ithadbeentwoyearssinceI’dheardhervoice.
IthoughtI’dneverspeaktoheragain,notbecausewehadsomehugefalling-out,butbecauseourrelationshipwasaburdenandIthinkwebothfeltlikewe’dbeensetfreewhenthatrelationshipbrokedown.
Ididn’trealizehowdesperateIwouldonedaybecome,though.
WehadgonealmostthreeyearswithoutspeakingwhenIreachedouttoherfromprison.Iwasdesperate.Iwassevenmonthspregnant,GraceandPatrickhadalreadyfiledforcustody,andbecauseofthelengthofmysentence,Ifoundouttheywerealsopetitioningforterminationofmyparentalrights.
Iunderstoodwhytheyweredoingit.Thebabywouldneedsomewheretogo,andIpreferredtheLandrysoveranyoneelseIknew,especiallymymother.Buttofindouttheywantedtoterminatemyrightspermanentlywasterrifying.ThatmeantIwouldn’tseemydaughteratall.Iwouldn’thavesayoverher,evenaftermyrelease.ButbecauseIhadsuchalongsentence,andtherewasnooneelseIcouldgrantcustodyofmydaughterto,Ihadtoreachouttotheonlyfamilymemberwhocouldpossiblyhelpme.
Ithoughtmaybe,ifmymotherfoughtforvisitationrightsasagrandparent,Icouldatleastbeleftwithsomecontroloverwhathappenedtomydaughterinthefuture.Andmaybeifmymotherhadvisitationrightswithmydaughter,shecouldbringmybabytotheprisonaftershewasbornsoIwouldatleastbeabletoknowher.
Whenmymotherwalkedintothevisitationroomthatday,shehadasmugsmileonherface.Itwasn’tasmilethatsaid,“I’vemissedyou,Kenna.”Itwasasmilethatsaid,“Thisdoesn’tsurpriseme.”
Shelookedpretty,though.Shewaswearingadress,andherhairhadgottensolongsinceI’dlastseenher.Itwasoddseeingherforthefirsttimeasherequal,ratherthanasateenager.
Wedidn’thug.Therewasstillsomuchtensionandanimositybetweenuswedidn’tknowhowtointeract.
Shesatdownandmotionedtowardmystomach.“Thisyourfirst?”
Inodded.Shedidn’tseemexcitedtobeagrandmother.
“Igoogledyou,”shesaid.
ThatwasherwayofsayingIreadwhatyoudid.IdugmythumbnailintomypalmtostopmyselffromsayingsomethingI’dregret.ButeverywordIwantedtosaywasawordI’dregret,sowesatthereinsilenceforthelongesttimewhileItriedtofigureoutwheretostart.
Shetappedherfingersonthetable,growingimpatientwithmysilence.“So?WhyamIhere,Kenna?”Shepointedatmystomach.“Youneedmetoraiseyourchild?”
Ishookmyhead.Ididn’twanthertoraisemychild.IwantedtheparentswhoraisedamanlikeScottytoraisemychild,butIalsowantedtoseemychild,soasmuchasIwantedtogetupandwalkawayfromherinthatmoment,Ididn’t.
“No.Thepaternalgrandparentsaregettingcustodyofher.But…”Mymouthwasdry.IcouldfeelmylipsstickingtogetherwhenIsaid,“Iwashopingyou’dpetitionforvisitationrightsasthegrandmother.”
Mymothertiltedherhead.“Why?”
Thebabymovedatthatmoment,almostasifshewasbeggingmenottoaskthiswomantohaveanythingtodowithher.Ifeltguilty,butIwasoutofoptions.Iswallowedandputmyhandsonmystomach.“Theywanttoterminatemyrights.Iftheydothat,I’llnevergettoseeher.Butifyouhaverightsasagrandmother,youcouldbringherheretoseemeeverynowandthen.”Isoundedlikethesix-year-oldversionofmyself.Scaredofher,butstillinneedofher.
“It’safive-hourdrive,”mymothersaid.
Ididn’tknowwhereshewasgoingwiththatcomment.
“Ihavealife,Kenna.Idon’thavetimetotakeyourbabyonfive-hourroadtripstoseehermotherinprisoneveryweek.”
“I…itwouldn’thavetobeweekly.Justwheneveryoucan.”
Mymothershiftedinherseat.Shelookedangrywithme,orannoyed.Iknewshe’dbebotheredbythedrive,butIthoughtonceshesawme,she’datleastthinkthedrivewasworthit.Iwasatleasthopingshe’dshowupwantingtoredeemherself.Ithoughtmaybe,afterfindingoutshewasgoingtobeagrandmother,she’dfeellikeshegotado-over,andshe’dactuallytrythistime.
“Ihaven’treceivedonephonecallfromyouinthreeyears,Kenna.Nowyou’reaskingforfavors?”
Ididn’tgetasinglephonecallfromher,either,butIdidn’tbringthatup.Iknewitwouldonlymakeherangry.Instead,Isaid,“Please.They’regoingtotakemybaby.”
Therewasnothinginmymother’seyes.Nosympathy.Noempathy.Irealizedinthatmomentthatshewasgladshe’dgottenridofmeandhadnointentionofbeingagrandmother.I’dexpectedit.Iwasjusthopingshe’dgrownaconscienceintheyearssinceI’dlastseenher.
“Nowyou’llknowhowIfelteverytimethestatetookyoufromme.Iwentthroughsomuchtogetyoubackbothtimes,andyouneverappreciatedit.Youneverevensaidthankyou.”
Shereallywantedathank-you?Shewantedmetothankherforbeingsoshittyatbeingaparentthatthestatetookmefromhertwice?
Istoodupandlefttheroominthatmoment.ShewassayingsomethingtomeasIleft,butIcouldn’thearherbecauseIwassoangryatmyselfforbeingdesperateenoughtocallher.Shehadn’tchanged.Shewasthesameself-centered,narcissisticwomanIhadgrownupwith.
Iwasonmyown.Completely.
Eventhebabystillgrowinginmystomachdidn’tbelongtome.CHAPTERSIXTEEN
LEDGER
PatrickandIstartedbuildingtheswingsetinmybackyardtoday.Diem’sbirthdayisn’tforafewmoreweeks,butwefiguredifwecouldgetitputtogetherbeforeherparty,sheandherfriendswouldhavesomethingtoplayon.
Theplansoundedfeasible,butneitherofusknewbuildingaswingsetwouldbealotlikebuildinganentiredamnhouse.Therearepieceseverywhere,andwithoutinstructions,it’scausedPatricktomutterfuckatleastthreetimes.Herarelyeverusesthatword.
We’veavoidedtalkofKennauptothispoint.Hehasn’tbroughtitup,soIhaven’tbroughtitup,butIknowit’sallheandGracehavebeenthinkingaboutsincesheshoweduponourstreetyesterday.
ButIcantellthesilenceonthatsubjectisabouttoend,becausehestopsworkingandsays,“Welp.”
That’salwaysthewordPatrickusesbeforehe’sabouttostartaconversationhedoesn’twanttohave,orifhe’sabouttosaysomethingheknowsheshouldn’tsay.IpickeduponitwhenIwasjustateenager.He’dwalkintoScotty’sroomtotellmeitwastimeformetogohome,buthe’dneveractuallysaywhatheintendedtosay.He’djusttalkaroundit.He’dtapthedoorandsay,“Welp.Guessyoutwohaveschooltomorrow.”
Patricksitsinoneofmypatiochairsandrestshistoolsonthetable.“It’sbeenquiettoday,”hesays.
I’velearnedtodecipherthethingshedoesn’tsay.Iknowhe’sreferringtothefactthatKennahasn’tshownbackup.
“How’sGrace?”
“Onedge,”hesays.“Wespoketoourlawyerlastnight.Heassuredusthere’snothingshecanlegallydoatthispoint.ButIthinkGraceismoreconcernedshe’lldosomethingstupid,likeswipeDiemfromtheT-ballfieldwhennoneofusarelooking.”
“Kennawouldn’tdothat.”
Patricklaughshalf-heartedly.“Noneofusknowher,Ledger.Wedon’tknowwhatshe’scapableof.”
IknowherbetterthanhethinksIdo,butI’llneveradmitthat.ButPatrickmayalsoberight.Iknowwhatit’sliketokissher,butIhavenoideawhosheisasahuman.
Sheseemstohavegoodintentions,butI’msureScottythoughtthesamethingaboutherbeforeshewalkedawayfromhimwhenheneededherthemost.
I’mgettingloyaltywhiplash.OneminuteIfeelhorribleforPatrickandGrace.Thenext,IfeelhorribleforKenna.TherehastobeawayeveryonecancompromisewithoutDiembeingtheonetosuffer.
Itakeadrinkofwatertopadthesilence,andthenIclearmythroat.“Areyouatallcuriousaboutwhatshewants?Whatifshe’snottryingtotakeDiem?Whatifshejustwantstomeether?”
“Notmyconcern,”Patricksaysabruptly.
“Whatis?”
“Oursufferingismyconcern.There’snowayKennaRowancanfitintoourlives,orDiem’slife,withoutitaffectingoursanity.”He’sfocusingonthegroundnow,asifhe’sworkingallthisoutinhisheadasit’scomingoutofhismouth.“It’snotthatwethinkshe’dbeabadmother.Icertainlydon’tthinkshe’dbegood.ButwhatwouldthisdotoGraceifsheweretohavetosharethatlittlegirlwiththatwoman?Ifshehadtolookherintheeyeeveryweek?Orworse…whatifKennasomehowmadeajudgefeelsorryforherandherrightswerereinstated?WherewouldthatleaveGraceandme?WealreadylostScotty.Wecan’tloseScotty’sdaughtertoo.It’snotworththerisk.”
IgetwhatPatrickissaying.Completely.ButIalsoknowthataftergettingtoknowKennajustoverthelastcoupleofdays,thehatredIhadforherisstartingtoturnintosomethingelse.Maybethathatredisturningintoempathy.IfeellikethatcouldpossiblyhappentoPatrickandGraceiftheygaveherachance
BeforeIcaneventhinkofsomethingtosay,Patrickreadstheexpressiononmyface.“Shekilledourson,Ledger.Don’tmakeusfeelguiltyfornotbeingabletoforgivethat.”
IwinceatPatrick’sresponse.I’vesomehowhitanervewithmysilence,butI’mnotheretomakehimfeelguiltyforthedecisionsthey’vemade.“Iwouldneverdothat.”
“Iwantheroutofourlivesandoutofthistown,”Patricksays.“Wewon’tfeelsafeuntilbothofthosethingshappen.”
Patrick’swholemoodhaschanged.IfeelguiltyforevensuggestingtheyentertainKenna’sreasoning.Shegotherselfhere,andinsteadofexpectingeveryoneinScotty’slifetoconformtohersituation,theeasierandlessdamagingthingwouldbeforhertoaccepttheconsequencesofheractionsandrespectthedecisionScotty’sparentshavemade.
IwonderwhatScottywouldhavewantedifhecouldhaveseenthisoutcome.Weallknowthewreck,whilepreventable,wasalsoanaccident.Butwashemadatherforleavinghim?Didhediehatingher?
Orwouldhebeashamedofhisparents—andme—forkeepingKennafromDiem?
I’llneverhavethatanswer,andneitherwillanyoneelse.It’swhyIalwaysfindsomethingelsetofocusonwhenIstartwonderingifwe’reallgoingagainstwhatScottywouldhavewanted.
Ileanbackinthepatiochairandstareatthejunglegymthatwillhopefullystarttotakeshapesoon.AsIstareatit,IthinkofScotty.ThisisexactlywhyItoreitdown.
“ScottyandIsmokedourfirstcigaretteinthatjunglegym,”IsaytoPatrick.“Wewerethirteen.”
Patricklaughsandleansbackinhischair.HeseemsrelievedthatI’vechangedthesubject.“Wheredidyoutwogetcigarettesatthirteen?”
“Mydad’struck.”
Patrickshakeshishead.
“Wedrankourfirstbeerthere.Wegothighforthefirsttimethere.AndifIremembercorrectly,Scottyhadhisfirstkissthere.”
“Whowasshe?”Patrickasks.
“DanaFreeman.Sheliveddownthestreet.Shewasmyfirstkisstoo.ThatwastheonlyfightmeandScottyevergotinto.”
“Whokissedherfirst?”
“Idid.Scottyswoopedinlikeafuckingeagleandtookherfromme.Pissedmeoff,butnotbecauseIlikedher.Ijustdidn’tlikethatshechosehimoverme.Wedidn’tspeakforlikeeightwholehours.”
“Well,it’sonlyfair.Hewassomuchbetterlookingthanyou.”
Ilaugh.
Patricksighs,andnowwe’reboththinkingaboutScottyandit’sbringingtheenergydown.Ihatehowoftenthishappens.Iwonderifit’lleverstarttohappenless.
“DoyouthinkScottywishedIwasdifferent?”Patrickasks.
“Whatdoyoumean?Youwereagreatdad.”
“I’veworkedinanofficecrunchingsalesfiguresmywholelife.SometimesIwonderedifheeverwishedIwassomethingbetter,likeafirefighter.Oranathlete.Iwasn’tthetypeofdadhecouldbragabout.”
IfeelbadthatPatrickthinksScottywouldhavewantedhimtobeanydifferentthanhewas.IthinkbacktothemanyconversationsScottyandIhadaboutourfuture,andoneofthoseconversationssticksouttome.
“Scottyneverwantedtomoveaway,”Isay.“HewantedtomeetagirlandhavekidsandtakethemtothemovieseveryweekendandtoDisneyWorldeverysummer.Irememberthinkinghewascrazywhenhesaidthat,becausemydreamswerewaybigger.ItoldhimIwantedtoplayfootballandtraveltheworldandownbusinessesandhaveasteadycashflow.Iwasn’taboutthesimplelifelikehewas,”IsaytoPatrick.“Iremember,afterItoldhimhowimportantIwantedtobe,hesaid,‘Idon’twanttobeimportant.Idon’twantthepressure.Iwanttoslideundertheradarlikemydad,becausewhenhecomeshomeatnight,he’sinagoodmood.’”
Patrickisquietforawhile,butthenhesays,“You’refullofshit.Heneversaidthat.”
“Iswear,”Isaywithalaugh.“Hesaidthingslikethatallthetime.Helovedyoujustthewayyouwere.”
Patrickleansforwardandstaresattheground,claspinghishandstogether.“Thankyouforthat.Evenifitisn’ttrue.”
“It’strue,”Isay,reassuringhim.ButPatrickstillseemssad.ItrytothinkofoneofthelighterstoriesaboutScotty.“Onetime,weweresittinginsidethejunglegym,andoutofnowhere,thispigeonlandedintheyard.Itwasonlythreeorfourfeetawayfromus.Scottylookedatitandsaid,‘Isthatafuckingpigeon?’AndIdon’tknowwhy,maybebecausewewerebothhigh,butwelaughedsohardatthat.Welaugheduntilwecried.Andforyears,upuntilhedied,everytimewe’dseesomethingthatdidn’tmakesense,Scottywouldsay,‘Isthatafuckingpigeon?’”
Patricklaughs.“That’swhyhealwayssaidthat?”
Inod.
Patrickstartslaughingevenharder.Helaughsuntilhecries.
Andthenhejustcries.
WhenthememoriesstarttohitPatricklikethis,Ialwayswalkawayandleavehimalone.He’snotthetypewhowantscomfortwhenhe’ssad.Hejustwantssolitude.
Igoinsideandclosethedoor,wonderingifit’llevergetbetterforhimandGrace.It’sonlybeenfiveyears,butwillhestillneedtocryaloneintenyears?Twenty?
Iwantsobadlyforthemtoheal,butthelossofachildisawoundthatneverheals.ItmakesmewonderifKennacrieslikePatrickandGracedo.
DidshefeelthatkindoflosswhentheytookDiemfromher?
Becauseifshedid,Ican’timagineGraceandPatrickwouldwillinglyallowhertocontinuetofeelit,sincetheyknowwhatitfeelslikefirsthand.CHAPTERSEVENTEEN
KENNA
DearScotty,
Istartedmynewjobtoday.I’mherenow,actually.I’matorientationandit’sreallyboring.I’mtwohoursintovideosabouthowtoproperlybaggroceries,stackeggs,keepmeatsseparated,andI’mtryingtokeepmyeyesopen,butIhaven’tbeensleepingwell.
Luckily,IfiguredoutthattheorientationvideosstillplayifIminimizethevideotab.I’mwritingyouthisletterusingMicrosoftWord.
IusedtheprinterheretoprintoffalltheoldlettersItypedintoGoogleDocswhenIwasinprison.IshovedthemintomybagandputtheminmyemployeelockertohidethembecauseIdoubtI’msupposedtobeprintingthings.
AlmosteverythingIrememberaboutyouisdocumented.Everyimportantconversationwehad.Everyimpactfulmomentthathappenedafteryoudied.
Ispentfiveyearstypingletterstoyou,tryingtorecallallthememoriesIhadwithyouincaseDiemwantstoknowaboutyousomeday.IknowyourparentshavemoretosharewithheraboutyouthanIdo,butIstillfeellikethepartofyouIknewisworthsharing.
WhenIwaswalkingarounddowntowntheotherday,Inoticedtheantiquestorewasnolongerthere.It’sahardwarestorenow.
Itmademethinkofthefirsttimewewentthereandyouboughtmeallthosetinylittlerubberhands.Wewereafewdaysfromoursix-monthanniversary,butwewerecelebratingitearlybecauseIhadtoworktheweekendshiftandwouldn’tgetoffworkintimeforustogoout.
We’dbothsaidIloveyoubythatpoint.Wewerepastourfirstkiss,ourfirsttimetomakelove,ourfirstfight.
Wehadjusteatenatanewsushirestaurantdowntownandwerebrowsingantiquestores,mostlywindow-shoppingbecauseitwasstilllightout.Wewereholdinghands,andeverynowandthenyouwouldstopandkissme.Wewereinthatsickeningstageofrelationships—thestageI’dneverreachedwithanyonebeforeyou.Wewerehappy,inlove,fullofhormones,fullofhope.
Itwasbliss.Ablisswethoughtwouldlastforever.
Youpulledmeintotheantiquestoreatonepointduringourwalkandsaid,“Picksomethingout.I’llbuyitforyou.”
“Idon’tneedanything.”
“Thisisn’taboutyou.It’saboutme,andIwanttobuyyousomething.”
Iknewyoudidn’thavealotofmoney.Youwereabouttograduatecollegeandyouplannedtostartgraduateschoolfull-time.IwasstillworkingatDollarDaysmakingminimumwage,soIwalkedtowardthejewelrydisplay,hopingIcouldfindsomethingcheap.Maybeabracelet,orapairofearrings.
Butitwasaringthatcaughtmyeye.Itwasdaintyandgoldandlookedlikeitbelongedonthefingerofsomeonestraightoutofthe1800s.Therewasapinkstoneinthecenterofit.YounoticedthemomentIspotteditbecauseIsuckedinabreath.
“Youlikethatone?”youasked.
Itwasinacasewithalltheotherrings,soyouaskedtheguybehindthecounterifwecouldseeit.Themantookitoutandhandedittoyou.Youslippeditontheringfingerofmyrighthandanditfitperfectly.“It’ssopretty,”Isaid.ItwashonestlytheprettiestringI’deverseen.
“Howmuchisit?”youaskedtheguy.
“Fourgrand.Icouldprobablyknockacouplehundredoff.It’sbeeninthecaseforafewmonths.”
Youreyesbulgedatthatprice.“Fourgrand?”youaskedindisbelief.“Isitafuckingpigeon?”
IsputteredlaughterbecauseIhadnoideawhyyoualwayssaidthatphrase,butitwasatleastthethirdtimeI’dheardyousayit.Ialsolaughedbecausetheringwasfourthousandfreakingdollars.I’mnotsureI’deverhadanythingonmybodyworthfourthousanddollars.
Yougrabbedmyhandandsaid,“Hurry.Takeitoffbeforeyoubreakit.”Yougaveitbacktotheman.Therewasadisplayoftinyrubberhandsnexttotheregister.Theywerelittlegaggiftsthatslippedontothetipsoffingerssoyou’dhavefiftyfingersinsteadoften.Yougrabbedoneandsaid,“Howmucharethese?”
Themansaid,“Twobucks.”
Youboughtmetenofthem.Oneforeachfinger.Itwasthestupidestgiftanyonehadevergivenme,butbyfarmyfavorite.
Whenwesteppedoutofthestore,wewerebothlaughing.“Fourthousanddollars,”youmuttered,shakingyourhead.“Doesthatringcomewithacar?Doallringscostthatmuch?DoIneedtostartsavingforourengagementnow?”Youwereslippingtherubberhandsonthetipsofmyfingersasyourantedaboutthepriceofjewelry.
Butyourrantmademesmile,becauseit’sthefirsttimeyouevermentionedthewordengagement.Ithinkyounoticedwhatyousaidbecauseyougotquietafterthat.
Whenalltherubberhandswereonmyfingers,Itouchedbothofyourcheeks.Itlookedsoridiculous.Youweresmilingwhenyouwrappedyourhandsaroundmywristsandkissedmypalm.
Thenyoukissedthepalmsofalltenofmyrubberhands.
“Ihavesomanyfingersnow,”Isaid.“Howwillyouaffordtobuyringsforallfiftyofmyfingers?”
Youlaughedandpulledmeagainstyou.“I’llfigureoutaway.I’llrobabank.OrI’llrobmybestfriend.He’llberichsoon,thatluckybastard.”
YouwerereferringtoLedger,althoughI’mnotsureIknewthatatthetime,becauseIdidn’tknowLedger.HehadjustsignedacontractwiththeBroncos.Iknewverylittleaboutsports,though,andnothingaboutyourfriends.
Wewereconsumedbyeachothersomuchwehardlymadetimeforanyoneelse.YouwereinclassmostdaysandIworkedmostdays,sothelittletimewewereabletospendtogether,wespenttogetheralone.
Ifiguredthatwouldeventuallychange.Wewerejustatpointsinourliveswherewewereeachother’spriority,andneitherofussawthatasabadthingbecauseitfeltsogood.
Youpointedatsomethinginthewindowofthestoreacrossthestreetandthenyougrabbedoneofthetinyplastichandsandyouhelditasweheadedinthatdirection.
Ihadthisfantasythatyouwouldsomedayproposetomeandthenwe’dgetmarriedandhavebabiesandraisethemtogetherinthistownbecauseyoulovedithere,andIwouldhavelovedanywhereyouwantedtobe.Butyoudied,andwedidn’tgettoliveoutourdream.
Andnowweneverwill,becauselifeisacruel,cruelthing,thewayitpicksandchooseswhotobully.We’regiventheseshittycircumstancesandtoldbysocietythatwe,too,canlivetheAmericandream.Butwhattheydon’ttellusisthatdreamsalmostnevercometrue.
It’swhytheycallittheAmericandreamratherthantheAmericanreality.
Ourrealityisthatyou’redead,I’minorientationforashittyjobmakingminimumwage,andourdaughterisbeingraisedbypeoplewhoaren’tus.
Realityisdepressingasfuck.
Soisthisjob.
Ishouldprobablygetbacktoit.
Love,
Kenna
AmyputmeonthefloorafterIfinishedthethreehoursoforientationvideos.IwasnervousatfirstbecauseIwasexpectingtoshadowsomeonemyfirstday,butAmysaid,“Makesuretheheavystuffgoesonthebottom,treatthebreadandeggslikeinfants,andyou’llbefine.”
Shewasright.I’vebeenbagginggroceriesandcarryingthemoutforcustomersfortwohoursnow,andsofar,it’sjustyouraveragelow-payingjob.
Noonewarnedmetherecouldbejobhazardsonthefirstday,though.
ThatjobhazardisnamedLedger,andeventhoughIhaven’tlaideyesonhim,Ijustspottedhisuglyorangetruckintheparkinglot.
MypulsespeedsupbecauseIdon’twanthimtomakeascene.Ihaven’tseenhimsinceheshowedupatmyapartmentSaturdaynighttocheckonme.
IthinkIhandledmyselfprettywell.Heseemedremorsefulfortreatingmethewayhedid,butIkeptmycoolandactedunfazed,eventhoughhisshowingbackupdefinitelyfazedme.
Itgavemealittlebitofhope.Ifhefeelsbadenoughforhowhetreatedme,maybethere’sachancehecouldeventuallygrowempathetictowardmysituation.
I’msureit’sasmallchance,butit’sstillachance.
MaybeIshouldn’tavoidhim.BeinginhispresencemightmakehimrealizeI’mnotthemonsterhethinksIam.
Iwalkbackinsidethestoreandreturnthegrocerycarttotherack.Amyisbehindthecustomerservicecounter.
“CanItakeabathroombreak?”
“Youdon’thavetoaskpermissiontopee,”shesays.“Rememberhowwemet?IfakepeeeveryhourwhenI’mhere.It’stheonlywayIstaysane.”
Ireallylikeher.
Idon’thavetousetherestroom.IjustwanttowalkaroundandseeifIcanspotLedger.Partofmehopeshe’sherewithDiem,butIknowheisn’t.Hesawmeapplyingforajobhere,whichmeanshe’lllikelyneverbringDieminsidethisstoreeveragain.
Ieventuallyfindhiminthecerealaisle.IwasplanningtojustspyonhimsoIcankeeptabsonhimwhileheshops,buthe’satthesameendoftheaisleIappearat,andhespotsmeassoonasIseehim.We’rejustfourfeetapartfromoneanother.He’sholdingaboxofFruityPebbles.
IwonderifthoseareforDiem.
“Yougotthejob.”LedgersaysthiswithoutanyhintastowhetherheevencaresthatIgotthejob,orifhe’sbotheredbyit.I’msureifhe’sthatbotheredbyit,hewouldhaveshoppedsomewhereelsetoday.It’snotlikehedidn’tknowIwastryingtogetajobhere.
He’sgoingtohavetofindanewstoreifitbothershimbecauseI’mnotgoinganywhere.Ican’t.Nooneelsewillhireme.
IlookupfromtheboxofcerealinhishandsandimmediatelywishIhadn’t.Helooksdifferenttoday.Maybeit’sthefluorescentlightingorthefactthatwhenI’minhispresence,I’mattemptingnottolookathimtooclosely.Buthereinthecerealaisle,thelightsseemtoilluminatehim.
Ihatethathelooksbetterunderfluorescentlighting.Howisthatevenpossible?Hiseyesarefriendlier,hismouthisevenmoreinviting,andIdon’tlikethatI’mthinkinggoodthingsaboutthemanwhophysicallypulledmeawayfromthehousemydaughterwasin.
Ileavethecerealaislewithanewlumpinmythroat.
Ichangedmymind;Idon’twanttobenicetohim.He’salreadyspentfiveyearsjudgingme.I’mnotgoingtochangehisviewofmeintheaisleofagrocerystore,andIgettooflusteredinhispresencetogivehimanysemblanceofagoodimpression.
ItrytotimethingssothatI’mnotavailablewhenhechecksout,butaskarmawouldhaveit,theothergrocerybaggersondutyareallbusy.Igetcalledtohislanetobaghisgroceries,whichmeansI’llhavetowalkthemouttohistruckandconversewithhimandbenice.
Idon’tmakeeyecontactwithhim,butIcanfeelhimwatchingmeasIseparatehisfoodintosacks.
There’ssomethingintimateaboutknowingwhateveryoneinthistownisbuyingfortheirkitchens.IfeellikeIcanalmostdefineapersonbasedontheirgroceries.Singlewomenbuyalotofhealthyfood.Singlemenbuyalotofsteakandfrozendinners.Largefamiliesbuyalotofbulkmeatandproduce.
Ledgergetsfrozendinners,steak,Worcestershiresauce,Pringles,animalcrackers,FruityPebbles,milk,chocolatemilk,andalotmoreGatorade.Basedonhisselections,Iconcludehe’sasingleguywhospendsalotoftimewithmydaughter.
ThelastitemsthecashierringsuparethreecansofSpaghettiOs.I’mjealousheknowswhatmydaughterlikes,andthatjealousyshowsinthewayItossthecansintothesackandthenintothecartwithathud.
Thecashierside-eyesmeasLedgerpaysforthegroceries.Oncehegetshisreceipt,hefoldsitupandputsitinhisbillfoldwhilewalkingtothecart.“Icangetit.”
“Ihavetodoit,”Isayflatly.“Storepolicy.”
Henodsandthenleadsthewaytohistruck.
Idon’tlikethatIstillfindhimattractive.Itrytolookeverywherebutathimaswemakeourwayacrosstheparkinglot.
WhenIwasinhisbartheothernight,beforeIknewhewastheowner,Icouldn’thelpbutnoticehowdiversetheemployeeswere.Thatmademeappreciatewhoevertheownerwas.Theothertwobartenders,RaziandRoman,arebothBlack.OneofthewaitressesisHispanic.
Ilikethathe’safigureinmydaughter’slife.Iwanthertoberaisedbygoodpeople,andeventhoughIbarelyknowLedger,sofarheseemslikeadecenthuman.
Whenwereachhistruck,LedgertakestheGatoradesandputstheminthebackwhileIunloadtherestofhisgroceriesintothebackseatoppositethesidewhereDiem’sboosterseatis.There’sapink-and-whitescrunchieonthefloorboard.WhenI’mfinishedloadinghissacks,Istareatthescrunchieforafewsecondsandthenreachforit.
There’sastrandofbrownhairwrappedaroundit.Ipullatthehairuntilitcomesloosefromthescrunchie.Thestrandisaboutsevenincheslongandistheexactsamecolorasmine.
Shehasmyhair.
IfeelLedgerapproachmefrombehind,butIdon’tcare.IwanttoclimbintothisbackseatandstayherewithherboosterseatandherhairscrunchieandseeifIcanfindanyotherremnantsofherthat’llgivemehintsastowhatshelookslikeandwhatkindoflifeshelives.
Iturnaround,stillstaringatthescrunchie.“Doesshelooklikeme?”Iglanceupathim,andhiseyebrowsaredrawnapartashelooksatme.Hisleftarmisrestingonthetopofhistruck,andIfeelcagedbetweenhim,thedoor,andthegrocerycart.
“Yeah.Shedoes.”
Hedoesn’tsayhowshelookslikeme.Isithereyes?Hermouth?Herhair?Allofher?Iwanttoaskhimifwehavesimilarpersonalities,buthedoesn’tknowmeatall.
“Howlonghaveyouknownher?”
Hefoldshisarmsoverhischestandlooksdownathisfeetlikehedoesn’tfeelcomfortableansweringthesequestions.“Sincetheybroughtherhome.”
Thejealousythatrollsthroughmeisalmostaudible.Isuckinatremblingbreathandpushbackmytearswithanotherquestion.“What’sshelike?”
Thatquestionmakeshimsighheavily.“Kenna.”Allhesaysismyname,butit’senoughtoknowhe’sdoneansweringmyquestions.Helooksawayfrommeandscanstheparkinglot.“Doyouwalktowork?”
Convenientchangeofsubject.“Yes.”
He’slookingattheskynow.“It’ssupposedtostormthisafternoon.”
“Lovely.”
“YoucouldUber.”Hiseyescomebacktomine.“DidtheyhaveUberbeforeyou…”Hisvoicetrailsoff.
“Wenttoprison?”Ifinishwitharollofmyeyes.“Yes.Uberexisted.ButIdon’thaveaphone,soIdon’thavetheapp.”
“Youdon’thaveaphone?”
“IhadonebutIdroppeditlastmonth,andIcan’tgetanewoneuntilIgetapaycheck.”
Someoneusesakeyfobtounlockthecaraspaceoverfromus.IglancearoundandseeLadyDianawalkingtowardthecarwithanoldercoupleandacartfullofgroceries.Wearen’tintheirway,butIuseitasanexcusetoclosehisdoor
LadyDianaseesLedgerasshe’sopeningthetrunk.Shegrabsthefirstsackandmutters,“Jerk.”
Itmakesmesmile.IglanceatLedger,andIthinkhemightevenbesmiling.Idon’tlikethathedoesn’tseemlikeanasshole.Itwouldbealoteasiertohatehimifhewereanasshole.
“I’mkeepingthescrunchie,”IsayasIturnthecartaround.
Iwanttotellhimthatifhe’sstillgoingtoinsistonshoppinghere,heshouldbringmydaughternexttime.ButwhenI’minhispresence,Ican’tdecideifIshouldbepolitebecausehe’stheonlythinglinkingmetomydaughter,orifIshouldbemeanbecausehe’soneofthethingskeepingmefrommydaughter.
SayingnothingwhenIwanttosayeverythingisprobablymybestbetfornow.IglancebackathimbeforeIheadintothestore,andhe’sstillleaningagainsthistruck,watchingme.
IgoinsideandreturnthecarttotherackandthenpullmyhairupwithDiem’sscrunchieandwearitfortherestofmyshift.CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
LEDGER
ThereareadozenchocolatecupcakesstaringatmewhenIwalkinsidethebar.
“Dammit,Roman.”
Everyweekhegoestothebakerydownthestreetandbuyscupcakes.Heonlybuysthemsohe’llhaveanexcusetoseethewomanwhoownsthebakery,buthedoesn’teveneatthem.Whichmeansthatleavesmewiththetaskofeatingthem.IusuallytaketheonesthatsurvivethenighttoDiem.
IgraboneofthecupcakesjustasRomanwalksthroughthedoubledoorsfromthebackofthebar.“Whydon’tyoujustaskherout?I’veputontenpoundssinceyoufirstsawher.”
“Herhusbandmightnotlikethat,”Romansays.
Oh,yeah.She’smarried.“Goodpoint.”
“I’veneverevenspokentoher,youknow.IjustkeepbuyingcupcakesfromherbecauseIthinkshe’shot,andapparentlyIliketotorturemyself.”
“Youdefinitelyenjoyself-torture.Youstillworkhereforsomereason.”
“Exactly,”Romansaysflatly.Heleansagainstthecounter.“So?What’stheupdateonKenna?”
Ilookoverhisshoulder.“Anyoneelsehereyet?”Idon’twanttotalkaboutKennaaroundanyone.ThelastthingIneedisforittogetbacktotheLandrysthatI’veinteractedwithheroutsideoftheonetimetheyknowof.
“No.MaryAnnecomesonatsevenandRaziisofftonight.”
Itakeabiteofthecupcakeandtalkwithamouthful.“SheworksatthegrocerystoreonCantrell.Shehasnocar.Nophone.I’mstartingtothinkshedoesn’tevenhavefamily.Shewalkstowork.Thesecupcakesarefuckingdelicious.”
“Youshouldseethewomanwhobakesthem,”Romansays.“HaveDiem’sgrandparentsdecidedwhattodo?”
Iputtheotherhalfofthecupcakebackintheboxandwipemymouthwithanapkin.“ItriedtalkingtoPatrickaboutityesterday,buthedoesn’tevenwantthetopicupfordiscussion.Hejustwantsheroutoftownandoutoftheirlives.”
“Whataboutyou?”
“Iwantwhat’sbestforDiem,”Isayimmediately.I’vealwayswantedwhat’sbestforDiem.Ijustdon’tknowifwhatIusedtothinkwasbestforherisstillwhat’sbestforher.
Romandoesn’tsayanything.He’sstaringatthecupcakes.Thenhesays,“Fuckit,”andhegrabsone.
“Youthinkshecooksasgoodasshebakes?”
“HopefullyonedayIfindout.Almostoneoutofeverytwocouplesdivorce,”hesays,hisvoicehopeful.
“IbetWhitneycouldfindyouanicesinglegirltodate.”
“Fuckyou,”hemutters.“I’dratherwaituntilCupcakeGirl’smarriagefallsapart.”
“DoesCupcakeGirlhaveaname?”
“Everyonehasaname.”
It’stheslowestnightwe’vehadinalongtime,probablybecauseit’sMondayandit’sraining.Idon’tusuallynoticeeverytimethedoortothebaropens,butsincethereareonlythreecustomersrightnow,alleyesgotoherwhensheslipsinsideandoutoftherain.
Romannoticeshertoo.We’rebothstaringinherdirectionwhenhesays,“Ihaveafeelingyourlifeisabouttogetincrediblycomplicated,Ledger.”
Kennawalkstowardme,herclothessoakingwet.Shetakesthesameseatshesatinthefirsttimeshewashere.ShepullsDiem’sscrunchieoutofherhairandthenleansoverthebarandgrabsahandfulofnapkins.“Well.Youwererightabouttherain,”shesays,dryingherfaceandherarms.“Ineedaridehome.”
I’mconfused,becausethelasttimeshegotoutofmytruck,shewassoangrywithmeIwaspositiveshe’dneverbeinsideofitagain.“Fromme?”
Sheshrugs.“You.AnUber.Acab.Idon’tcare.ButfirstIwantacoffee.Ihearyouguyscarrycaramelnow.”
She’sinafeistymood.Ihandheracleanragandstartmakingheracoffeewhileshedriesoff.Ilookatthetime,andit’sbeenatleasttenhourssinceIwasinthestore.“Didyoujustnowgetoffwork?”
“Yeah,someonecalledin,soIworkedadouble.”
Thegrocerystoreclosesatnine,anditlikelytakesheranhourtowalkhome.“Youprobablyshouldn’tbewalkinghomethislate.”
“Thenbuymeacar,”sheretorts.
Iglanceoverather,andsheraisesaneyebrowlikethatwasadare.Itophercoffeewithacherryandslideitovertoher.
“Howlonghaveyouownedthisbar?”sheasks.
“Afewyears.”
“Didn’tyouusedtoplaysomekindofprofessionalsport?”
Herquestionmakesmelaugh.Maybebecausemyshorttwo-yearstintasanNFLplayerisusuallytheonlythingpeoplearoundherewanttotalkaboutwithme,butKennamakesitseemlikeapassingthought.“Yeah.FootballfortheBroncos.”
“Wereyouanygood?”
Ishrug.“Imean,ImadeittotheNFL,soIdidn’tsuck.ButIwasn’tgoodenoughtogetmycontractrenewed.”
“Scottywasproudofyou,”shesays.Shelooksdownatherdrinkandcupsherhandsaroundit.
Shewasprettyclosedoffthefirstnightshecamein,butherpersonalityisstartingtosliphereandthere.Sheeatshercherryandthentakesasipofthecoffee.
IwanttotellhershecangoupstairstotheapartmentRomanstaysinsoshecandryherclothes,butitfeelswrongbeingnicetoher.It’sbeenaconstantbattleinmyheadforthelastcoupleofdays,wonderinghowIcanbeattractedtosomeoneI’vehatedforsolong.
Maybeit’sbecausetheattractionhappenedlastFriday,beforeIknewwhoshewas.
Ormaybeit’sbecauseI’mstartingtoquestionmyreasonsforhavinghatedherforsolong.
“Youdon’thavefriendsinthistownwhocangiveyouaridehomefromwork?Family?”
Shesetsdownhercoffee.“Iknowtwopeopleinthistown.Oneofthemismydaughter,butshe’sonlyfourandcan’tdriveyet.Theotheroneisyou.”
Idon’tlikethathersarcasmsomehowmakeshermoreattractive.Ineedtostopinteractingwithher.Idon’tneedhertobehereinthisbar.Someonemightseemetalkingtoher,andwordcouldgetbacktoGraceandPatrick.“I’llgiveyouaridehomewhenyoufinishyourcoffee.”
Iwalktotheotherendofthebarjusttogetawayfromher.
KennaandIheadoutsidetomytruckabouthalfanhourlater.Thebarclosesinanhour,butRomansaidhe’dtakecareofit.IjustneedtogetKennaoutofthebar,andoutofmypresencesonoonecantieustogether.
It’sstillraining,soIgrabanumbrellaandIholditoverher.Notthatit’llmakeahugedifference.She’sstillsoakingwetfromherwalkhere.
Iopenthepassengerdoorforher,andsheclimbsinsidethetruck.It’sawkwardwhenwemakeeyecontact,becausethere’snowaywearen’tboththinkingaboutthelasttimeweweretogetheronthissideofthetruck.
Ishutherdoorandtrynottothinkaboutthatnight,orwhatIthoughtofher,orhowshetasted.
HerfeetareagainstthedashwhenIsettleintothedriver’sseat.She’sfidgetingwithDiem’shairscrunchieasIpullontothestreet.
Ican’tstopthinkingaboutwhatshesaid—aboutDiembeingtheonlypersoninthistownsheknowsbesidesme.Ifthat’strue,Diemisn’tevenreallysomeonesheknows.ShejustknowsDiemishereandthatsheexists,buttheonlypersonshereallyknowsinthistownisme.
Idon’tlikethat.
Peopleneedpeople.
Whereisherfamily?Whereishermother?WhyhasnoneofherfamilytriedtoreachoutandgettoknowDiem?I’vealwayswonderedwhynoone,notevenanothergrandparentorauntoruncle,hastriedcontactingGraceorPatrickaboutmeetingDiem.
Andifshedoesn’thaveacellphone,whodoesshetalkto?
“Doyouregretkissingme?”sheasks.
Myfocusswingsfromtheroadandovertoherassoonassheasksthat.She’sstaringatmeexpectantly,soIlookattheroadagain,grippingmysteeringwheel.
Inod,becauseIdoregretit.MaybenotforthereasonsshethinksIregretit,butIregretitallthesame.
It’squietallthewaytoherapartmentafterthat.Iputmytruckinparkandglanceoverather.She’slookingdownatthescrunchieinherhand.Sheslidesitontoherwrist,andwithoutevenmakingeyecontactwithme,shemutters,“Thanksfortheride.”SheopensherdoorandisoutofmytruckbeforeIfindmyvoicetotellhergoodnight.CHAPTERNINETEEN
KENNA
IthinkaboutkidnappingDiemsometimes.I’mnotsurewhyIdon’tfollowthroughwithit.It’snotlikethere’saworselifeformethantheoneI’mcurrentlyliving.AtleastwhenIwasinprison,IhadareasonIwasunabletoseemydaughter.
Butrightnow,theonlyreasonisthepeopleraisingher.Andithurtstohatethepeopleraisingher.Idon’twanttohatethem.WhenIwasinprison,itwashardertoblamethem,becauseIwassogratefulshehadpeoplewhoweretakingcareofher.
Butfromrighthereinthislonelyapartment,it’shardnottothinkofhowgreatitwouldbetotakeDiemandgoontherun.EvenifitwasjustforafewdaysbeforeIgotcaught.IcouldgivehereverythingwhileIhadher.Icecream,presents,maybeatriptoDisneyWorld.We’dhavealavishweeklongcelebrationbeforeIturnedmyselfin,andshe’drememberitforever.
She’drememberme
Andthen,bythetimeIgotoutofprisonforkidnappingher,she’dbeanadult.Andshe’dprobablyforgiveme,becausewhowouldn’tappreciateamotherwhowouldriskgoingbacktoprisonjusttoexperienceonegoodweekwiththeirdaughter?
TheonlythingpreventingmefromtakingheristhepossibilitythatPatrickandGracemightchangetheirmindssomeday.WhatiftheyhaveachangeofheartandIgettomeetDiemwithouthavingtobreakthelawtodoit?
Andthere’salsothefactthatshedoesn’tknowmeatall.Shedoesn’tevenloveme.I’dberippingherfromtheonlyparentssheknows,andwhilethatmightsoundappealingtome,itwouldmorethanlikelybehorrifyingforDiem.
Idon’twanttomakeselfishdecisions.IwanttobeagoodexampleforDiem,becausesomedayshe’llfindoutwhoIamandthatIwantedtobeinherlife.Itmightbethirteenyearsfromnowbeforeshe’sabletodecideforherselfwhetherornotshewantsanythingtodowithme,andforthatreasonalone,I’mgoingtolivethenextthirteenyearsinawaythatwillhopefullymakeherproud.
IsnuggleuptoIvyandtrytofallasleep,butIcan’t.Therearesomanythoughtsswimmingaroundinmyhead,andnoneofmythoughtseversettle.I’vehadinsomniasincethenightScottydied.
Ispendmynightsawake,thinkingaboutDiemandScotty.
Andnow,thoughtsofLedgerareaddedtothemix.
Partofmeisstillsomadathimforinterceptingmeattheirhousethispastweekend.ButpartofmefeelsasenseofhopewhenI’maroundhim.Hedoesn’tseemtohateme.Yes,heregretskissingme,butIdon’tcareaboutthat.Idon’tevenknowwhyIaskedhimthatquestion.IjustwonderifheregretsitbecausehewasScotty’sbestfriend,orbecauseofwhatIdidtoScotty.Probablyboth.
IwantLedgertoseethesideofmethatScottysawsothatImighthavesomeoneonmyside.
It’sreallyfuckinglonelywhentheonlyfriendsyouhaveareateenagerandakitten.
IshouldhavemademoreofaneffortwithScotty’smomwhenhewasalive.Iwonderifthatwouldhavemadeadifference.
ThenightImetScotty’sparentswasprobablythestrangestnightofmylife.
I’dseenfamiliesliketheirsontelevision,butneverinpersonbefore.Ihonestlydidn’tknowtheyexisted.Parentswhogotalongandseemedtolikeeachother.
Theymetusinthedriveway.IthadbeenthreeweekssinceScottyhadbeenhome,andtheylookedliketheyhadn’tseenhiminyears.Theyhuggedhim.Notlikeahellohug,butanImissedyouhug.Ayou’rethebestsonintheworldhug.
Theyhuggedme,too,butitwasadifferenthug.Quick,hello,nicetomeetyouhug.
Whenwewentinsidethehouse,Gracesaidsheneededtofinishupdinner,andIknowIshouldhavetoldherI’dhelp,butIdidn’tknowmywayaroundakitchen,andIwasafraidshe’dsmelltheinexperienceonme.Soinstead,IstucktoScotty’ssidelikeglue.IwasnervousandIfeltoutofplace,andhewastheclosesttoahomethatIcouldget
Theyevenprayed.Scottysaidtheprayer.Itwassoearthshatteringformetobesittingatadinnertable,listeningtoaguythankGodforhismealandhisfamilyandme.Itwastoosurrealtokeepmyeyesclosed.Iwantedtotakeitallin,toseewhatotherpeoplelookedlikeastheyprayed.IwantedtostareatthisfamilybecauseitwashardtowrapmyheadaroundtheideathatifImarriedScotty,thiswouldbemine.Iwouldhavetheseparents,andthismealwouldbesomethingIhelpedcook,andI’dlearnhowtothankGodformyfoodandforScotty.Iwantedit.Icravedit.
Normalcy.
SomethingIwaswhollyunfamiliarwith.
IsawGracepeekuprightattheendoftheprayer,andshecaughtmelookingaround.Iimmediatelyclosedmyeyes,butatthatpointScottysaid,“Amen,”andeveryonepickeduptheirforks,andGracealreadyhadanopinionofme,andIwastooscaredandtooyoungtoknowhowtochangeit.
Itseemedhardforthemtolookatmeduringdinner.Ishouldn’thaveworntheshirtIhadon.Itwaslowcut.Scotty’sfavorite.Ispentthewholemealhunchedovermyplate,embarrassedaboutmyselfandallthethingsIwasn’t.
Afterdinner,ScottyandIsatoutonhisbackporch.Hisparentswenttobed,andassoonastheirbedroomlightturnedoff,Ibreathedasighofrelief.IfeltlikeIwasbeinggraded.
“Holdthis,”Scottysaid,handingmehiscigarette.“Ihavetopee.”Hesmokedoccasionally.Ididn’tmindit,butIdidn’tsmoke.Itwasdarkout,andhewalkedaroundtothesideofthehouse.Iwasstandingonhisbackporchleaningagainsttherailingwhenhismotherappearedatthebackdoor.
Istraightenedupandtriedtohidethecigarettebehindmyback,butshe’dalreadyseenit.ShewalkedawayandthenreturnedwitharedSolocupamomentlater.
“Usethisforyourashes,”shesaid,handingittomeoutthebackdoor.“Wedon’thaveanashtray.Noneofussmoke.”
Iwasmortified,butallIcouldsaywas“Thankyou,”andthenItookthecupfromher.SheclosedthebackdoorjustasScottycamebackforhiscigarette.
“Yourmotherhatesme,”Isaid,handinghimthecigaretteandthecup.
“No,shedoesn’t.”Hekissedmeontheforehead.“Thetwoofyouwillbebestfriendssomeday.”Hetookafinaldragofhiscigarette,andthenIfollowedhimbackinsidethehouse.
Hecarriedmeupthestairsonhisback,butwhenIsawallthepicturesofhimthatlinedthestairwell,ImadehimstopateachonesoIcouldlookatthem.Theyweresohappy.Thewayhismotherlookedathiminthephotosisthesamewayshelookedathimasanadult.
“Whatkidisthatcute?”Iaskedhim.“Theyshouldhavehadthreemoreofyou.”
“Theytried,”hesaid.“ApparentlyIwasamiraclebaby.Otherwise,theyprobablywouldhavehadsevenoreight.”
ThatmademesadforGrace.
Wegottohisroom,andScottydroppedmeontohisbed.Hesaid,“Younevertalkaboutyourfamily.”
“Idon’thaveone.”
“Whataboutyourparents?”
“Myfatheris…somewhere.Hegottiredofpayingchildsupport,sohebolted.MymotherandIdon’tgetalong.Ihaven’tspokentoherinacoupleofyears.”
“Why?”
“Wejustaren’tcompatible.”
“Whatdoyoumean?”Scottysprawledoutnexttomeonthebed.Heseemedgenuinelycuriousaboutmylife,andIwantedtotellhimthetruth,butIalsodidn’twanttoscarehimaway.Hegrewupinsuchanormalhousehold;Iwasn’tsurehowhewouldfeelknowingIdidn’t.
“Iwasalonealot,”Isaid.“ShealwaysmadesureIhadfood,butsheneglectedmetothepointIwasputinfostercaretwice.Bothtimestheysentmebacktolivewithher,though.It’slikeshewasshitty,butnotshittyenough.Ithinkaftergrowingupandseeingotherfamilies,Istartedtorealizeshewasn’tagoodmother.Orevenagoodperson.Itbecamereallyhardtocoexist.ItwaslikeshefeltIwashercompetitionandnotonherteam.Itwasexhausting.AfterImovedout,westayedintouchforawhile,butthenshejuststoppedcalling.AndIstoppedcallingher.Wehaven’tspokenintwoyears.”IlookedatScotty,andhehadthesaddestlookonhisface.Hedidn’tsayanything.Hejustbrushedmyhairbackandstayedquiet.“Whatwasitlikehavingagoodfamily?”Iaskedhim.
“I’mnotsureIknewhowgooditwasuntiljustnow,”hereplied.
“Yes,youdid.Youloveyourparents.Andthishouse.Icantell.”
Hesmiledgently.“Idon’tknowifIcanexplainit.Butbeinghere…it’slikeIcanbemytruest,mostauthenticself.Icancry.Icanbeinabadmood,orsad,orhappy.Anyofthosemoodsareacceptedhere.Idon’tfeelthatanywhereelse.”
ThewayhedescribeditmademesadIneverhadit.“Idon’tknowwhatthat’slike,”Isaid.
Scottybentdownandkissedmyhand.“I’llgiveittoyou,”hesaid.“We’llgetahousetogethersomeday.AndI’llletyoupickeverythingout.Youcanpaintithoweveryouwant.Youcanlockthedoorandonlyletthepeopleinthatyouwantinthere.It’llbethemostcomfortableplaceyou’veeverlived.”
Ismiled.“Thatsoundslikeheaven.”
Hekissedmethen.Madelovetome.AndasquietasItriedtobe,thehousewasevenquieter.
Thenextmorningwhenwewereleaving,Scotty’smothercouldn’tlookmeintheeye.Herembarrassmentseepedintome,andIknewforcertaininthatmomentshedidn’tlikeme.
Aswewerepullingoutofhisdriveway,IpressedmyforeheadagainstthepassengerwindowofScotty’scar.“Thatwasmortifying.Ithinkyourmotherhearduslastnight.Didyouseehowtenseshewas?”
“It’sjarringforher,”Scottysaid.“She’smymother.Shecan’timaginemescrewinganygirl;ithasnothingtodowithyouinparticular.”
Ifellbackagainsttheseatandsighed.“Ilikedyourdad.”
Scottylaughed.“You’lllovemymothertoo.Nexttimewevisitthem,I’llmakesureandfuckyoubeforewegetheresoshecanpretendIdon’tdothingslikethat.”
“Andmaybestopsmoking.”
Scottygrabbedmyhand.“Icandothat.Nexttime,she’llloveyousomuch,she’llbepushingforaweddingandgrandbabies.”
“Yeah,”Isaidwistfully.“Maybe.”ButIdoubtedit.
Girlslikemejustdidn’tseemtofitinwithanyfamily.CHAPTERTWENTY
LEDGER
It’sbeenthreedayssinceshewasinthebar,andthreedayssinceIwaslastinthegrocerystore.ItoldmyselfIwasn’tgoingtocomebackhere.IdecidedI’djuststartshoppingatWalmartagain,butafterhavingdinnerwithDiemlastnight,IspenttheentirenightthinkingaboutKenna.
I’venoticedsinceshe’sbeenbackintownthatthemoretimeIspendwithDiem,themorecuriousIamaboutKenna.
IcompareDiem’smannerismstohersnowthatIhavesomethingtocomparethemto.EvenDiem’spersonalityseemstomakemoresensenow.Scottywasstraightforward.Concrete.Hewasn’tveryimaginative,butIsawthatasagoodquality.Hewantedtoknowhowthingsworked,andhewantedtoknowwhy.Hedidn’twastetimeonanythingthatwasn’tsciencebased.
Diemistheoppositeofthat,andI’veneverwonderedifshegotthatfromhermotheruntilnow.IsKennaconcretelikeScottywas,ordoessheliketouseherimagination?Issheartistic?Doesshehavedreamsoutsideofbeingreunitedwithherdaughter?
Moreimportantly,isshegood?
Scottywasgood.IalwaysassumedKennawasn’tbecauseofthatonenight.Thatonecauseandeffect.Thatoneterriblechoiceshemade.
Butwhatifwewerejustlookingforsomeonetoblamebecausewewereallhurtingsomuch?
ItneveronceoccurredtomethatKennamighthavebeenhurtingasmuchaswewere.
Ihavesomanyquestionsforher.QuestionsIshouldn’twantanswersto,butIneedtoknowmoreaboutthatnightandmoreaboutherintentions.Ihaveafeelingsheisn’tgoingtoleavetownwithoutafight,andasmuchasPatrickandGracewanttobrushthisundertherug,it’snotsomethingthat’sgoingtogoaway.
Maybethat’swhyI’mhere,sittinginmytruck,watchingherloadgroceriesintocars.I’mnotsureifshe’snoticedI’vebeenlurkingintheparkinglotforhalfanhour.Sheprobablyhas.Mytruckdoesn’tnecessarilyblendinwithitssurroundings.
There’saknockonmywindowthatmakesmejump.MyeyesmeetGrace’s.She’sholdingDiemonherhip,soIopenmydoor.
“Whatareyoudoinghere?”
Graceshootsmeaconfusedlook.I’msureshewasexpectingmyresponsetobemoreontheexcitedsidethanconcerned.“We’regettinggroceries.Wesawyourtruck.”
“Iwanttogowithyou,”Diemsays.Shereachesforme,andIslideoutofthetruckasItakeherfromGrace’sarms.IimmediatelyscantheparkinglottomakesureKennaisn’toutside.
“Youneedtoleave,”IsaytoGrace.Sheparkedintherowinfrontofme,soIwalktowardhercar.
“What’swrong?”Graceasks.
Ifaceherandmakesuretochoosemywordscarefully.“Sheworkshere.”
There’sconfusioninGrace’sfacebeforetherealizationhits.AssoonasshegraspswhoI’mreferringto,thecolorbeginstodrainfromhercheeks.“What?”
“She’sonshiftrightnow.YouneedtogetDiemoutofhere.”
“ButIwanttogowithyou,”Diemsays.
“I’llcomepickyouuplater,”Isay,grippingthedoorhandle.Grace’scarislocked.Iwaitforhertounlockit,butshe’sfrozeninplacelikeshe’sinatrance.“Grace!”
Shequicklyrefocusesandthenstartsdigginginherpurseforherkeys.
That’swhenIseeKenna.
That’swhenKennaseesme.
“Hurry,”Isay,myvoicelow.
Grace’shandsareshakingasshestartsclickingherkeyfob.
Kennahasstoppedwalking.She’sjuststandinginthemiddleoftheparkinglot,staringatus.Whensherealizeswhatshe’sseeing—thatherdaughterisjustyardsfromher—sheabandonshercustomer’sgrocerycartandstartsheadinginourdirection.
Gracegetsthedoorsunlocked,soIswingthebackdooropenandputDieminherboosterseat.Idon’tknowwhyIfeellikeI’mracingagainsttime.It’snotlikeKennacouldtakeherwithbothofusrighthere.Ijustdon’twantGracetohavetofaceher.NotinfrontofDiem.
Thisalsoisn’tthetimeortheplaceforKennatomeetherdaughterforthefirsttime.Itwouldbetoochaotic.ItwouldscareDiem.
“Wait!”IhearKennayell.
Diemisn’tevenbuckledinallthewaywhenIsay,“Go,”andshutherdoor.
GraceputsthecarinreverseandpullsoutoftheparkingspotassoonasKennareachesus.Kennapassesmeandrushesafterthecar,andasmuchasIwanttograbherandpullherback,IkeepmyhandsoffherbecauseIstillfeelremorseforpullingherawayfromtheirfrontdoor.
Kennagetscloseenoughtotheircartotapthebackofitandplead,“Wait!Grace,wait!Please!”
Gracedoesn’twait.Shedrivesaway,andit’spainfultowatchKennadebateonrunningafterthecar.Whenshefinallyrealizessheisn’tgoingtostopthem,sheturnsaroundandlooksatme.Tearsarestreamingdownhercheeks.
Shecovershermouthwithherhandsandstartstosob.
It’sconflicting,beingthankfulshedidn’tmakeittousintime,butalsoheartbrokenforherthatshedidn’tmakeittousintime.IwantKennatomeetherdaughter,butIdon’twantDiemtomeethermother,eventhoughthey’reoneandthesame.
IfeellikeKenna’smonsterandDiem’sprotector.
Kennalookslikeshe’sabouttocollapsefromagony.She’sinnoshapetofinishhershift.Ipointtomytruck.“I’llgiveyouaridehome.What’syourboss’sname?I’llletherknowyouaren’tfeelingwell.”
Shewipeshereyeswithherhandsandsays,“Amy,”asshewalksdefeatedlytowardmytruck.
IthinkIknowtheAmyshe’sreferringto.I’veseenherinthestorebefore.
ThecartKennaabandonedisstillinthesamespot.TheelderlywomanKennawaswalkinggroceriesoutforisjuststandingbyhercar,staringatKennaassheclimbsintomytruck.She’sprobablywonderingwhatinthehellallthecommotionwas.
Iruntothecartandpushitovertothewoman.“Sorryaboutthat.”
Thewomannodsandunlockshertrunk.“Ihopeshe’sokay.”
“Sheis.”Iloadthegroceriesintohercarandthenreturnthecarttothestore.ImakemywaytothecustomerservicedeskandfindAmybehindthecounter.
Itrytosmileather,butthere’stoomuchshiftingaroundinsideofmetoevenfakeasmileatthispoint.“Kennaisn’tfeelingwell,”Ilie.“I’mgivingheraridehome.Ijustwantedtoletyouknow.”
“Oh,no.Issheokay?”
“Shewillbe.DoyouknowifshehasanythingIneedtograbforher?Likeapurse?”
Amynods.“Yeah,sheuseslockertwelveinthebreakroom.”Shepointstoadoorbehindthecustomerservicedesk.
Iroundthedeskandwalkthroughthedoortothebreakroom.ThegirlfromKenna’sapartmentcomplexissittingatthetable.Shelooksupatme,andIswearshescowls.“Whatareyoudoinginourbreakroom,jerk?”
Idon’ttrytodefendmyself.Shehashermindmadeupaboutme,andatthispoint,Iagreewithher.IopenlockertwelveandgotograbKenna’spurse.It’smorelikeatotebag,andthetopiswideopen,soIseeathickstackofpagesshovedinside.
Itlookslikeamanuscript.
Itellmyselfnottolook,butmyeyesunwittinglylandonthefirstlineonthefrontpage.
DearScotty
Iwanttoreadmore,butIclosethebagandrespectherprivacy.Igotoleavethebreakroomandsaytothegirl,“Kennaissick.I’mtakingherhome,butdoyouthinkyoucancheckonherthisevening?”
Thegirl’seyesarefocusedhardonme.Shefinallynods.“Okay,jerk.”
Iwanttolaugh,buttherearetoomanythingssuppressingthatlaughrightnow.
WhenIgetbacktoAmy,shesays,“LetherknowIclockedherout,andtocallmeifsheneedsanything.”
Shehasnophone,butInod.“Iwill.Thankyou,Amy.”
WhenIreachthetruck,Kennaiscurledupinthepassengerseat,facingmoretowardthewindow.SheflincheswhenIopenthedoor.Isetthetotebagbetweenus,andshepullsittoherside.She’sstillcrying,butshedoesn’tsayanythingtome,soIdon’tsayanythingtoher.Iwouldn’tevenknowwhattosay.I’msorry?Areyouokay?I’manasshole?
Ipulloutoftheparkinglotanddon’tevenmakeithalfamiledowntheroadwhenKennamutterssomethingthatsoundslike“Pullover.”
Ilookather,butshe’slookingoutthewindow.WhenIdon’tputonmyblinker,sherepeatsherself.“Pullover.”Hervoiceisdemandingnow.
“You’llbehomeintwominutes.”
Shekicksmydash.“Pullover!”
Idon’tsayanythingelse.Idowhatshesays.Ifliponmyblinkerandpullovertotheshoulder.
Shegrabshertotebag,getsoutofthetruck,andthenslamsthedoor.Shestartswalkinginthedirectionofherapartment.Whenshegetsseveralfeetinfrontofmytruck,Iputitindriveandmovealongtheshoulder,rollingdownmywindow.
“Kenna.Getbackinthetruck.”
Shekeepswalking.“Youtoldhertoleave!Yousawmecomingandyoutoldhertoleave!Whydoyoukeepdoingthistome?”Icontinuedrivingatthepaceshe’swalkinguntilshefinallyturnsandfacesmethroughthewindow.“Why?”shedemands.
Ipressonthebrakesuntilwe’reeven.Myhandsarestartingtoshake.Maybeit’stheadrenaline,maybeit’stheguilt.
Maybeit’stheanger.
Iputmytruckinparkbecauseshelookslikeshe’sreadytotacklethis.“DoyoureallythinkyoucanconfrontGraceintheparkinglotofagrocerystore?”
“Well,Itriedtodoitattheirhouse,butwebothknowhowthatturnedout.”
Ishakemyhead.Thelocationisn’twhatI’mreferringto.
Idon’tknowwhatI’mreferringto.Iworktogathermythoughts.I’mconfusedbecauseIthinkshemightberight.Shetriedtoapproachthempeacefullythefirsttime,andIstoppedherthentoo.
“Theyaren’tstrongenoughforwhateveritisyou’reherefor,evenifyouaren’theretotakeherfromthem.Theyaren’tevenstrongenoughtoshareherwithyou.They’vegivenDiemagoodlife,Kenna.She’shappyandshe’ssafe.Isthatnotenough?”
Kennalookslikeshe’sholdingherbreath,butherchestisheaving.ShestaresatmeforamomentandthenwalkstowardthebackofthetrucksothatIcan’tseeherface.Shestandsstillforawhile,butthenshewalksintothegrassonthesideoftheroadandjustsitsdown.Shepullsupherkneesandhugsthemasshestaresoutoveranemptyfield.
Idon’tknowwhatshe’sdoing,orifsheneedstimetothink.Igiveherafewminutesalone,butshedoesn’tmoveorstandup,soIfinallygetoutofthetruck.
WhenIreachher,Idon’tsayanything.Iquietlysitdownnexttoher.
Thetrafficandtheworldcontinuetomovebehindus,butinfrontofusisabigopenfield,sowebothstarestraightaheadandnotateachother.
Sheeventuallylooksdownandpullsasmallyellowfloweroutofthegrass.Sherollsitinherfingers,andIfindmyselfwatchinghernow.Sheinhalesaslowbreath,butdoesn’tlookatmewhenshereleasesitandstartstospeak.
“Othermotherstoldmewhatitwouldbelike,”shesays.“Theytoldmethey’dtakemetothehospitaltogivebirth,andthatI’dgettwodayswithher.Twowholedays,justmeandher.”Atearfallsdownhercheek.“Ican’ttellyouhowmuchIlookedforwardtothosetwodays.ItwastheonlythingIhadtolookforwardto.Butshewasbornearly…Idon’tknowifyouknowthat,butshewasapreemie.Sixweeks.Herlungswere…”Kennablowsoutabreath.“Rightaftershewasdelivered,theyhadtotransferhertotheNICUatanotherhospital.Ispentmytwodaysaloneinarecoveryroomwithanarmedguardkeepingwatchoverme.Andwhenmytwodayswereup,theysentmebacktotheprison.Inevergottoholdher.IneverevengottolookintotheeyesofthehumanScottyandImade.”
“Kenna…”
“Don’t.Whateveryou’reabouttosay,don’t.Trustme,I’dbelyingifIsaidIdidn’tcomeherewiththeridiculoushopethatIwouldbewelcomedintoherlifeandevengivensomekindofrole.ButIalsoknowshe’swhereshebelongs,soIwouldhavebeengratefulforanything.Iwouldhavebeensogratefultofinallygettolookather,evenifthat’sallIwaseverallowedtodo.WhetheryouorScotty’sparentsthinkIdeservethatornot.”
Iclosemyeyesbecausehervoiceispainfulenough.Lookingatherandseeingtheagonyonherfacewhenshetalksmakesitsomuchworse.
“Iamsogratefultothem,”shesays.“Youhavenoidea.ThewholetimeIwaspregnant,Ineverhadtoworryaboutwhatkindofpeoplewouldraiseher.TheywerethesametwopeoplewhoraisedScotty,andhewasperfect.”She’squietforacoupleofseconds,soIopenmyeyes.She’sstaringrightatmewhensheshakesherheadandsays,“I’mnotabadperson,Ledger.”Hervoiceisfullofsomuchregret.“I’mnotherebecauseIthinkIdeserveher.Ijustwantedtoseeher.That’sall.That’sit.”Sheuseshershirttodryhereyes,andthenshesays,“SometimesIwonderwhatScottywouldthinkifhecouldseeus.Itmakesmehopethatanafterlifedoesn’texist,becauseifitdoes,Scottyisprobablytheonlysadpersoninheaven.”
Thosewordshitmeinthegut,becauseI’mterrifiedshemightberight.It’sbeenmybiggestfearsincesheshowedbackupandIstartedviewingherasthewomanScottywasinlovewithratherthanthewomanwholefthimtodie.
IstandupandleaveKennaaloneinthegrass.Iwalktomytruckandopenmyconsole.IgetmyphoneandtakeitbacktowhereKennaissitting.
IsitdownnexttoheragainandopenmyphotoappandthenopenthefolderwhereIkeepallthevideosI’vetakenofDiem.IpullupthemostrecentoneItookofheratdinnerlastnight,andIhitplayandhandthephonetoKenna.
Inevercouldhaveimaginedwhatitwouldbelikeforamothertolayeyesonherchildforthefirsttime.ThesightofDiemonthescreenstealsKenna’sbreath.Sheslapsahandoverhermouthandbeginstocry.Shecriessohard,shehastosetthephoneonherlegssoshecanusehershirttoclearhereyesoftears.
Kennabecomesadifferentpersonrightinfrontofmyeyes.It’sasifI’mwitnessingherbecomeamother.ItmightbethemostbeautifulthingI’veeverseen.
Ifeellikeanabsolutefuckingmonsterfornothelpingherexperiencethismomentsooner.
I’msorry,Scotty.
Shewatchedfourvideoswhilesittinginthegrassonthesideoftheroad.Shecriedthewholetime,butshealsosmiledalot.AndshelaughedeverytimeDiemwouldspeak.
IletherholdmyphoneandcontinuetowatchmoreofthemasIdroveherhome.
IwalkedherupstairstoherapartmentbecauseIwouldhavefelttoobadtakingmyphoneawayfromher,soshe’sbeenwatchingvideosforalmostanentirehour.Heremotionsareallovertheplace.She’slaughing,she’scrying,she’shappy,she’ssad.
IhavenoideahowI’llgetmyphoneback.Idon’tknowthatIwantto.
I’vebeeninherapartmentforsolongKenna’skittenisnowasleepinmylap.I’mononeendofthecouchandKennaisontheother,andI’mjustwatchingherwatchthevideosofDiem,fullofpridelikeafather,becauseIknowDiemishealthyandarticulateandfunnyandhappy,anditfeelsgoodtowatchKennarealizeallthesethingsaboutherdaughter.
But,atthesametime,IfeellikeI’mbetrayingtwoofthemostimportantpeopleinmylife.IfPatrickandGraceknewIwashererightnow,showingKennavideosofthechildthey’veraised,they’dlikelyneverspeaktomeagain.Iwouldn’tblamethem.
There’sjustnowaytonavigatethissituationinawaythatIdon’tfeellikeI’mbetrayingsomeone.I’mbetrayingKennabykeepingDiemfromher.I’mbetrayingPatrickandGracebygivingKennaaglimpseofDiem.I’mevenbetrayingScotty,althoughIdon’tquiteknowhowyet.I’mstilltryingtofigureoutwherethosefeelingsofguiltarecomingfrom.
“She’ssohappy,”Kennasays.
Inod.“Sheis.She’sveryhappy.”
Kennalooksupatme,wipinghereyeswithacrumpled-upnapkinIhandedherinthetruck.“Doessheeveraskaboutme?”
“Notspecifically,butsheisstartingtowonderwhereshecamefrom.Lastweekendsheaskedifshegrewinatreeorinanegg.”
Kennasmiles.
“She’sstillyoungenoughthatshedoesn’treallyunderstandfamilydynamics.ShehasmeandPatrickandGrace,sorightnow,Idon’tknowthatshereallyfeelslikeanyoneismissing.Idon’tknowifthat’swhatyouwanttohear.It’sjustthetruth.”
Kennashakesherhead.“It’sfine.Itactuallymakesmefeelgoodthatshedoesn’tknowI’mmissinginherlifeyet.”Shewatchesanothervideoandthenreluctantlyhandsmethephone.Shepushesoffthecouchtowalktoherbathroom.“Pleasedon’tleaveyet.”
Inod,assuringherI’mnotgoinganywhere.Whensheclosesthebathroomdoor,ImoveKenna’skittenandstandup.Ineedsomethingtodrink.ThelastcoupleofhourshavesomehowmademefeeldehydratedeventhoughKennaistheonewhohasbeencrying.
IopenKenna’srefrigerator,butit’sempty.Completelyempty.Iopenherfreezerandit’semptytoo.
Whenshestepsoutofherbathroom,I’mlookingthroughheremptycabinets.They’reasbarrenasherapartment.
“Idon’thaveanythingyet.I’msorry.”Sheseemsembarrassedwhenshesaysthat.“It’sjust…ittookeverythingIhadtomovehere.I’llgetpaidsoon,andIplantomoveeventually,tosomewherebetter,andI’mgettingaphoneand—”
IliftahandwhenIrealizeshethinksI’mjudgingherabilitytoprovideforherself.OrmaybeforDiem.“Kenna,it’sfine.Iadmirethedeterminationthatgotyouhere,butyouneedtoeat.”Islidemyphoneintomypocketandheadtowardthedoor.“Comeon.I’llbuyyoudinner.”CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE
KENNA
Diemdoeslooklikeme.Wehavethesamehair,thesameeyes.SheevenhasthesameslenderfingersIhave.
IwasgladtoseeshegotScotty’slaughandsmile.WatchingthevideosofherwaslikearefreshercourseinthehistoryofScotty.It’sbeensolong,andIhadnopicturesofhiminprison,soIwasbeginningtoforgetwhathelookedlike.ButIsawhiminher,andI’mthankfulforthat.
I’mgratefultoknowthatwhenPatrickandGracelookatDiem,theycanstillseesomesemblanceoftheirownson.Ialwaysworriedthatifshelookedtoomuchlikeme,theymightnotseeremnantsofhim.
IthoughtI’dfeeldifferentafterfinallyseeingher.Iwashopingtherewouldbeasenseofclosurewithinme,butit’salmostasifsomeonehasstretchedopenthewound.Ithoughtseeingherhappywouldmakemehappier,butinaway,it’smademeevensadder,inacompletelyselfishway.
It’snotthatdifficulttoloveachildyougavebirthto,evenifyou’veneverlaideyesonthem.Butit’sextremelydifficulttofinallyseewhattheylooklikeandsoundlikeandarelike,andthenbeexpectedtojustwalkawayfromthat.
Butthat’sexactlywhattheyallexpectmetodo.It’swhattheywantmetodo.
Thethoughtofitmakesmystomachfeellikeit’sfulloftight,knottedropes,andthey’reallabouttosnap.
Ledgerwasright,Ineededfood.ButnowthatI’msittingherewithfood,allIcandoisthinkaboutthelastcoupleofhours,andIdon’tknowifIcaneat.I’mnauseous,fullofadrenaline,emotional,exhausted.
Ledgerwentthroughadrive-throughandorderedusburgers.We’resittinginhistruckintheparkinglotofapark,eatingourfood.
Iknowwhyhedidn’twanttotakemeanywherepublic.Hisbeingseenwithmeprobablywouldn’tgooverwellwithDiem’sgrandparents.NotthatIknowawholelotofpeopleinthistown,butIknewenoughpeoplebackthenthatthere’sachanceIcouldberecognized.
IfIhaven’tbeenalready.Ihadafewcoworkersbackthen,andeventhoughInevermetLedger,IdidmeetahandfulofScotty’sotherfriends.Andsinceit’sasmalltown,Icouldpossiblyberecognizedbyanyonewhowasnosyenoughtopassaroundmymugshot.
Peopleloveagoodrumor,andifthere’sanythingI’mgoodat,it’sbeingfodderforgossip.
Idon’tblameanyonebutmyself.EverythingwouldbedifferentifIwouldn’thavepanickedthatnight.ButIdid,andthesearetheconsequences,andI’veacceptedthat.IspentthefirstcoupleofyearsofmysentencereplayingeverydecisionI’veevermade,wishingIcouldgobackandgetasecondshot.
Ivyoncesaidtome,“Regretkeepsyoustuckonpause.Sodoesprison.Whenyougetoutofhere,makesureyouhitplaysoyoudon’tforgettomoveforward.”
I’mscaredtomoveforward,though.WhatiftheonlywayIcanmoveforwardiswithoutDiem?
“CanIaskyouaquestion?”Ledgersays.Iglanceoverathim,andhe’salreadyfinishedhisfood.Ihaven’teventakenthreebitesofmyburger.
Ledgerisgoodlooking,butnotinthewayScottywas.Scottywasmoretheboynextdoor.Ledgerisn’ttheboynextdoor.Ledgerlooksliketheguywhomightbeatuptheboynextdoor.He’srougharoundtheedges,andthefactthatheownsabardoesn’tsoothethatimageany.
Hedoesn’tcomeoffquitethewayhelookswhenheopenshismouth,though,andthat’sthemostimportantthing.
“Whathappensiftheywon’tletyoumeether?”heasks.
I’mdefinitelynothungrynow.Justthethoughtofitisnauseating.Ishrug.“IguessI’llmoveaway.Idon’twantthemtofeellikeI’mathreat.”Iforcemyselftoeatafrenchfry,onlybecauseIdon’tknowwhatelsetosay.
Ledgertakesasipofhistea.Thetruckisquiet.Itfeelsliketheremightbeanapologyhangingintheairbetweenus,butI’mnotsurewhoitbelongsto.
Ledgerclaimsitwhenheshiftsinhisseatandsays,“IfeellikeIoweyouanapologyforstoppingyoufrom—”
“It’sokay,”Isay,cuttinghimoff.“YouweredoingwhatyouthoughtyouneededtodotoprotectDiem.AsmadasIamformyownsake…I’mhappyDiemhaspeopleinherlifewhoprotectherthatfiercely.”
He’sstaringatmewithhisheadslightlytilted.Heprocessesmyresponse,tuckingitawaysomewherewithoutgivingmeanyclueastowhathe’sthinking.Henudgeshisheadtowardmyuneatenfood.“Youaren’thungry?”
“IthinkI’mtoowounduptoeatrightnow.I’lltakeithome.”Iputmyburgerbackinthesack,alongwiththerestofmyfries.Ifoldthesackupandsetitontheseatbetweenus.“CanIaskyouaquestion?”
“Ofcourse.”
Ileanmyheadagainsttheseatandstudyhisface.“Doyouhateme?”I’msurprisedwhenthequestionleavesmymouth,butIneedtoknowwherehisheadisat.Sometimes,likewhenwewereathishouse,itfeelslikehehatesmeasmuchasScotty’sparentsdo.
Butthensometimes,likerightnow,helooksatmelikehemightempathizewithmysituation.Ineedtoknowwhomyenemiesare,andIneedtoknowifthere’sanyoneonmyteam.IfIonlyhaveenemies,whatamIevenstilldoinghere?
Ledgerleansintohisdriver’ssidedoor,restinghiselbowonthewindowsill.Hestaresstraightaheadandrubshisjaw.“IformedanopinionofyouinmyheadafterScotty’sdeath.Alltheseyears,it’slikeyou’vebeensomerandompersononline—someoneIcouldmakestrongjudgmentsaboutandplaceblameonwithoutactuallyhavingtoknow.Butnowthatwe’refacetoface…Idon’tknowthatIwanttosayallthethingstoyouI’vealwayswantedtosay.”
“Butyoustillfeelthem?”
Heshakeshishead.“Idon’tknow,Kenna.”Heshiftsinhisseatsothathisattentionismoredirectedatme.“Thatfirstnightyouwalkedintomybar,IthoughtyouwerethemostintriguinggirlI’devermet.ButthenwhenIsawyouthenextdayinfrontofPatrickandGrace’shouse,IthoughtyouwerethemostdisgustingpersonI’devermet.”
Hishonestyfillsmychestwithembarrassment.“Andtonight?”Iaskquietly.
Helooksmeintheeye.“Tonight…I’mstartingtowonderifyou’rethesaddestgirlI’veevermet.”
Ismilewhatisprobablythemostpainful-lookingsmile,simplybecauseIdon’twanttocry.“Alloftheabove.”
Hissmileisalmostaspainful.“Iwasafraidofthat.”There’saquestioninhiseyes.Lotsofquestions.Somanyquestions,Ihavetolookawayfromhisfacetoavoidthem.
Ledgergathershistrashandgetsoutofthetruckandwalksitovertoatrashcan.Helingersoutsidehistruckforamoment.Whenhereappearsatthedriver’ssidedoor,hedoesn’tgetin.Hejustgripsthetopofthetruckandstaresatme.“Whathappensifyouhavetomoveaway?Whatareyourplans?Yournextstep?”
“Idon’tknow,”Isaywithasigh.“Ihaven’tthoughtthatfarahead.I’vebeentooafraidtoletgoofthehopethatthey’llchangetheirminds.”That’sstartingtofeellikethedirectionthisisgoing,though.AndLedgerofallpeopleknowswheretheirheadsareat.“Doyouthinkthey’llevergivemeachance?”
Ledgerdoesn’tanswer.Hedoesn’tshakehisheadornod.Hejustcompletelyignoresthequestionandgetsinhistruckandbacksoutoftheparkinglot.
Leavingmewithoutananswerisstillananswer.
Ithinkaboutthistheentirewayhome.WhendoIcutmylosses?WhendoIacceptthatmaybemylifewon’tintersectwithDiem’s?
Mythroatisdryandmyheartisemptywhenwepullbackintotheparkinglotofmyapartmentunit.Ledgergetsoutofthetruckandcomesaroundtoopenmydoor.Hejuststandsthere,though.Helookslikehewantstosaysomething,thewayheshufflesbackandforthonhisfeet.Hecrosseshisarmsoverhischestandlooksdownattheground.
“Itwasn’tagoodlook,youknow.Tohisparents,tothejudge,toeveryoneinthatcourtroom…youjustseemedso…”Hecan’tfinishhissentence.
“Iseemedsowhat?”
Hiseyesconnectwithmine.“Unremorseful.”
Thatwordknocksthebreathoutofme.HowcouldanyonethinkIwasunremorseful?Iwasabsolutelydevastated.
IfeellikeI’mabouttostartcryingagain,andI’vecriedenoughtoday.Ijustneedoutofhistruck.Igrabmybagandmyto-gofood,andLedgerstepsasidesothatIcanexithistruck.Whenmyfeetareontheground,IstartwalkingbecauseI’mtryingtocatchmybreath,andIcan’tanddon’tknowhowtorespondtowhathejustsaid.
Isthatwhytheyrefusetoletmeseemydaughter?TheythinkIdidn’tcare?
Icanhearhisfootstepsfollowingme,butitforcesmetowalkevenfasteruntilI’mupthestairsandinsidemyapartment.Isetmystuffdownonthecounter,andLedgerisstandinginthedoorwaytomyapartment.
Igriptheedgeofthecounternexttothesinkandprocesswhathe’sjustsaid.ThenIfacehimwiththedistanceoftheroombetweenus.“Scottywasthegreatestthingthateverhappenedtome.Iwasn’tunremorseful.Iwastoodevastatedtospeak.Mylawyers,theytoldmeIneededtowriteanallocutionstatement,butIhadn’tbeenabletosleepinweeks.Icouldn’tgetasinglewordoutonpaper.Mybrain,itwas…”Ipressahandtomychest.“Iwasshattered,Ledger.Youhavetobelievethat.Tooshatteredtoevendefendmyself,orcarewhathappenedtomylife.Iwasn’tunemotional,Iwasbroken.”
Andithappensagain.Thetears.I’msosickofthefuckingtears.IturnawayfromhimbecauseI’msurehe’ssickofthemtoo.
Ihearmydoorclose.Didheleave?Ispinaround,butLedgerisstandinginsidemyapartment.He’swalkingslowlytowardme,andthenheleansagainstthecounternexttome.Hefoldshisarmsoverhischest,crosseshislegsattheankles,andthenjuststaresatthefloorsilentlyforamoment.IgrabthenapkinoffthecounterthatIwasusingearlier.
Ledgereyesme.“Whowoulditbenefit?”heasks.
Iwaitformoreclarification,becauseIdon’tknowwhathe’saskingme.
“Itwouldn’tbenefitPatrickorGracehavingtosharecustodyofDiemwithyou.ItwouldbringalevelofstresstotheirlivesthatI’mnotsuretheycanemotionallyhandle.AndDiem…woulditbenefither?Becauserightnow,shehasnoideaanyoneisevenmissingfromherlife.Shehastwopeoplesheconsidersherparentsalready,andalloftheirfamilywholoveher.Shealsohasme.Andifyouwereallowedvisitation,yes,itmightmeansomethingtoherwhenshe’solder.Butrightnow…andI’mnotbeinghateful,Kenna…butyouwouldchangethepeacefulexistencethey’veworkedsohardtobuildsinceScottydied.ThestressyourpresencewouldbringtoPatrickandGracewouldbefeltbyDiem,nomatterhowhardtheytriedtohideitfromher.So…whowouldyourpresenceinDiem’slifebenefit?Besidesyourself?”
Icanfeelmychesttighteningathiswords.NotbecauseI’mangryathimforsayingthem,butbecauseI’mscaredhe’sright.
Whatifshe’sbetteroffwithoutmeinherlife?Whatifmypresencewouldjustbeanintrusion?
HeknowsPatrickandGracebetterthananyone,andifhesaysmypresenceisgoingtochangethegooddynamicthey’vebuilt,whoamItoarguewiththat?
Ialreadyfearedeverythinghejustsaid,butitfeelspainfulandembarrassinghearingthewordsactuallycomefromhim.He’sright,though.Mypresencehereisselfish.Heknowsit.Theyknowit.
I’mnotheretofillsomevoidinmydaughter’slife.I’mheretofillavoidinmine
Iblinkbacktearsandblowoutacalmingbreath.“IknowIshouldn’thavecomebackhere.You’reright.ButIcan’tjustupandleave.IttookeverythingIhadtogethere,andnowI’mstuck.Ihavenowheretogoandnomoneytogettherebecausethegrocerystoreisonlyparttime.”
Theempathyhasreturnedtohisface,buthe’squiet.
“Iftheydon’twantmehere,I’llleave.It’sjustgoingtotaketimebecauseIdon’thavethemoney,andeverybusinessinthistownhasturnedmedownbecauseofmypast.”
Ledgerpushesoffthecounter.Heclaspshishandsbehindhisheadandpacesafewsteps.Idon’twanthimtothinkI’maskingformoney.Thatwouldbethemostmortifyingresultofthisconversation.
Butifheofferedmemoney,I’mnotsureI’dturnitdown.Iftheywantmetoleavebadlyenoughtopayformyexit,I’llcutmyfuckinglossesandgo.
“IcangiveyoueighthoursonFridayandSaturdaynights.”Helookslikeheregretstheofferassoonasitleaveshismouth.“It’sjustkitchenwork.Mostlydishes.Butyouhavetostayinthebackofthebar.Noonecanknowyouworkthere.IftheLandrysfindoutI’mhelpingyou…”
Irealizehe’sofferingmethisopportunitytogetmeoutoftownquicker.He’snotdoingmeafavor;he’sdoingPatrickandGraceafavor.Itrynottothinkaboutthewhys,though.“Iwon’ttellanyone,”Isayquickly.“Iswear.”
ThehesitantlookonLedger’sfaceconveyshisregret.Itlookslikehe’sabouttosaynevermind,soIhurryupandspitoutathankyoubeforehecanbacktrack.“Igetoffworkatfouro’clockFridayandSaturday.Icanbetherebyfourthirty.”
Henods,andthensays,“Comeinthroughthebackdoor.Andifanyoneasks,tellthemyournameisNicole.That’swhatI’lltelltheotheremployees.”
“Okay.”
Heshakeshisheadlikehe’sjustmadethebiggestmistakeofhislife,andthenheheadstothefrontdoor.Hesays,“Goodnight,”buthisvoiceisclippedwhenhesaysit.Thenheclosesthedoorbehindhim.
Ivyisrubbingagainstmyankles,soIbenddownandpickherup.Ibringheruptomychestandcuddleher.
Ledgermighthavejustofferedmeajobtogetmeoutoftown,butIsitdownonmycouchwithasmile,becauseIgottoseemydaughter’sfacetoday.Nomatterhowdepressingtherestofthedaywas,IfinallygotapieceofsomethingI’vebeenprayingfiveyearsfor.
IgrabmynotebookandwritethemostimportantletterI’veeverwrittentoScotty.
DearScotty,
Shelookslikebothofus,butshelaughslikeyou.
She’sperfectineveryway.
I’msosorryyounevergottomeether.
Love,
KennaCHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
LEDGER
Kennaissupposedtoshowupanyminute.RomanhasbeenoffsincethenightIhiredher,soIhaven’thadachancetowarnhim.ButI’vebeendebatingonchangingmymindabouthiringhersincethesecondImadeupmymind.
Romanjustarrived,andKennasaidshe’dbeherearoundfourthirty,sonowisprobablyagoodtimetobringituptohimsohe’snotblindsided.
I’mslicinguplimesandorangestomakesurewehaveenoughgarnishesforthenight.Romanhasn’tevenmadeitbehindthebaryetwhenIsay,“Ifuckedup.”Imeanttosay,“IhiredKenna,”butIfeelliketheybothhavethesamemeaning.
Romaneyesmesuspiciously.
Ican’thavethisconversationwhileI’mslicingfruit,soIputtheknifedownbeforeIhackoffafinger.“IhiredKenna.Parttime,butnoonecanknowwhosheis.CallherNicoleinfrontoftheotheremployees.”IpickuptheknifeagainbecauseI’dratherlookatthelimesthanattheexpressionRomanisgivingmerightnow.
“Um.Wow.Why?”
“It’salongstory.”
Ihearhiskeysandhisphoneashedropsthemonthebarandthenscootsoutastool.“Goodthingwebothworkuntilmidnight.Starttalking.”
Iwalktotheedgeofthebarandglancebackintothekitchentomakesurewe’restillalone.Nooneelsehasarrivedyet,soIgivehimaquickrundownofwhathappenedinthegrocerystoreparkinglot,andhowIshowedhervideosofDiemandthentookherforburgersandsomehowendedupfeelingsorryforherandofferedherajobtohelphergetoutoftown.
Igetthewholestoryout,andthewholetime,he’scompletelysilent.
“Iaskedhertostayintheback,awayfromthecustomers,”Isay.“Ican’triskGraceorPatrickfindingoutsheworkshere.I’mnotworriedaboutthemshowingup;theynevercomehere.ButI’dstilllikehertostayintheback.ShecandothedishesandhelpAaron.”
Romanlaughs.“So,youessentiallyhiredabarbackwhocanbackbutnotbar?”
“There’splentytodobacktheretokeepherbusy.”
IhearRomanswipehisphoneandhiskeysoffthebar.Rightbeforehedisappearsthroughthedoubledoorstothekitchen,hesays,“Idon’twanttohearanotherwordaboutthefuckingcupcakeseveragain.”
He’sgonebeforeIcanpointoutthathisbeingobsessedwiththemarriedbakerdownthestreetisalittledifferentthanmygivingKennaajobtogetheroutoftownfaster.
Thedoorstothebackswingopenacoupleofminuteslater,andRomansays,“Yournewhirejustarrived.”
WhenImakeittothekitchen,Kennaisstandingbythealleydoorholdinghertote,grippingherwristwiththeoppositehand.Shelooksnervous,butdifferent.She’sgotlipglossonorsomething.Idon’tknow,buthermouthisallIcanseemtofocuson,soIclearmythroatandlookawayfromherandcasuallysay,“Hey.”
“Hi,”shesays.
Ipointtoaclosetwheretheemployeeskeeptheirstuffwhileonshift.“Youcanputyourbaginthere.”
IgrabheranapronandkeepitasprofessionalasIcan.“I’llgiveyouaquicktour.”ShefollowsmequietlyasIshowheraroundthekitchen.Iexplaintheprocessofhowtostackthedishesonceshewashesthem.Igiveherabrieftourofourstockroom.Ishowherwheremyofficeis.Itakeherouttothealleytoshowherwhichdumpsterisours.
We’remakingourwaybacktothealleydoorwhenAaronwalksup.HepauseswhenheseesmestandinginthealleywithKenna.
“Aaron,thisisNicole.She’llbehelpingyououtinthekitchen.”
Aaronnarrowshiseyes,lookingKennaupanddown.“DoIneedhelpinthekitchen?”heasks,confused.
IlookatKenna.“Wehavealimitedmenuoffoodontheweekends,butAarontakescareofallofit.Justbeavailableifheneedsthehelp.”
KennanodsandreachesoutahandtoAaron.“Nicetomeetyou,”shesays.Aaronreturnsthehandshake,buthe’sstilleyeingmesuspiciously.
Ilookatherandpointatthedoor,lettingherknowIwantaminutewithAaron.Kennanodsandslipsbackinside.IgivemyfocustoAaron.“She’llonlybehereafewweeksatthemost.Sheneededafavor.”
Aaronholdsupahand.“Enoughsaid,boss.”Hesqueezesmyshoulderashepassesmeandheadsinside.
I’veshownKennaeverythingIneedtoshowhertokeepherbusyforonenight.AndshehasAaronnow.He’lltakecareofher.
Idon’twanttowalkthroughthebackandhavetolookatheragain,soImakemywaythroughthefrontdoor.RaziandRomanarecoveringmostoftonightbecauseIhavetoleave.Ididn’ttakeintoconsiderationwhenIhiredKennaandtoldhertoshowuptonightthatIalreadyhadplansandwouldn’tevenbehereformostofhershift.
“I’llbebackaroundnine,”ItellRoman.“I’mgoingtodinnerwiththemaftertherecital.”
Romannods.“MaryAnneasksquestions,”hesays.“She’sbeenwantingustohirehernephewasabarback.Thisisn’tgoingtositwellwithher.”
“JusttellMaryAnnethatKennais…Nicoleistemporary.That’sallsheneedstoknow.”
Romanshakeshishead.“Youdidn’treallythinkthisonethrough,Ledger.”
“Ithoughtaboutitplenty.”
“Maybe,butyouthoughtaboutitwiththewrongfuckinghead.”
Iignorehisobservationandleave.
Diemdecidedshewantedtotryadanceclassafewmonthsago.Gracesaysit’sbecauseherbestfriendtakesdance,andit’snotbecauseDiemactuallylikesdance.
Afterseeingherrecitaltonight,it’scleardancingisn’therpassion.Shewasallovertheplace.I’mnotevensureshe’spaidonesecondofattentionindanceclass,becausewhilealltheotherkidswereatleastattemptingtheroutine,Diemwasrunningbackandforthonthestagerecreatingmovesfromherfavoritemovie,TheGreatestShowman
Theentireaudiencewaslaughing.GraceandPatrickweremortifiedbutweretryingnottolaugh.Atonepoint,Graceleanedoverandwhispered,“Makesuresheneverwatchesthatmovieagain.”
Iwasfilmingit,ofcourse.
ThewholetimeIwasfilmingDiem,IhadthisunderlyingsenseofanticipationatthethoughtofshowingKenna.ButDiem’smomentsaren’tminetoshare.Ineedtorememberthat,nomatterhowgooditfeltonthesideoftheroadtoseeKennafinallygetaglimpseofDiemafewdaysago.
PatrickandGracelegallymakealldecisionsforDiem,andrightfullyso.IfIfoundoutsomeoneclosetomewassharinginformationaboutDiemafterclearlyknowingIaskedthemnotto,I’dbemorethanlivid.AndI’dimmediatelycutthatpersonoutofmylife.
Ican’ttakethatchancewithPatrickandGrace.I’malreadydoingenoughbehindtheirbacksbyjustgivingKennathisjob.
“Idon’tthinkIwanttotakedanceanymore,”Diemsays.She’sstillwearingherpurpleleotard,butthere’squesodrippingdownthefrontofitnow.Iwipeitoffherbecauseshe’sonthesamesideoftheboothasme.
“Youcan’tquitdanceyet,”Gracesays.“We’vealreadypaidforthreemoremonths.”
Diemlikestotrynewthings.Idon’tlookatherwillingnesstoquitallthethingsshetriesasanegativepersonalitytrait.Ithinkit’sastrengththatshewantstotryeverysportshecan.
“Iwanttodothatthingwiththeswords,”Diemsays,swingingherforkbackandforthintheair.
“Fencing?”Patrickasks.“Theydon’thavefencinglessonsinthistown.”
“Ledgercanteachme,”Diemsays.
“Idon’thaveswords.AndIdon’thavetime.IalreadycoachyourT-ballteam.”
“T-ballishell,”Diemsays.
Ichokeonmylaugh.
“Don’tsaythat,”Gracewhispers.
“That’swhatRomansaid,”Diemretorts.“Ihavetogotothebathroom.”
Thebathroomsarewithinviewofourseats,soDiemslidesunderthetableandscootsoutofthebooth.Gracekeepsacloseeyeonherasshewalkstothebathroomdoor.It’sasingle-stallbathroomthatDiemcanlockbehindher,whichistheonlyreasonGraceisn’tfollowingher.
GraceusuallyaccompaniesDiemtotherestroom,butDiemhasbeendemandingherindependencelately.ShemakesGracewaitoutsidethebathroomnow,andwhenwecometothisrestaurant,wealwaysasktobeseatednearthebathroomhallwaysoGracecanallowDiemthespacetodothingsonherownwhilestillkeepingacloseeyeonher.
WhenPatrickstartstospeak,IcantellhalfofGrace’sattentionisstillonthebathroomdoor.“WefiledarestrainingorderagainstDiem’smother.”
Iholdbackmyreaction,butit’shard.Iswallowthosewordswithmybiteoffoodandthentakeasipofwater.“Why?”
“Wewanttobepreparedforwhatevershedecidestodo,”Patricksays.
“Butwhatwouldshetrytodo?”IcantellbythewayGracecocksherheadthatmaybeIshouldn’thavesaidthat.Butwouldajudgeevengrantarestrainingordersimplybecauseit’sfiled?IfigureitwouldtakemorethanKenna’spresenceforarestrainingordertobeapproved.
Gracesays,“Shechasedusdowninthegrocerystoreparkinglot.Idon’tfeelsafe,Ledger.”
Oh.Iforgotaboutthatyetsomehowstillfeeltheneedtodefendherlikeitwasmyfaultwewereallinthatpredicamentinthefirstplace.
“WespoketoGrady,”Patricksays.“Hesaidhecouldhavethejudgeexpediteit,andshe’llprobablybeservedthisweek.”
IhavesomuchIwanttosay,butnowisn’tthetimetosayit.Ihavenoideawhentherighttimetosayitis.OrifIevenneedtosayanythingatall.
Itakeanotherdrinkanddon’trespondtotheirnews.Ijustsitsilent,tryingnottogiveofftraitorvibes.Becausethat’sexactlywhatIamrightnow.There’snowayaroundit.
“Let’schangethesubject,”Gracesays,watchingDiemassheheadsbacktothetable.“How’syourmother,Ledger?Ididn’tevengettotalktoherwhileshewasintown.”
“Good.They’reheadingtoYellowstone,sothey’llprobablydropintotownontheirwaybackthrough.”
DiemisclimbingontoGrace’slapwhenGracesays,“I’dlovetoseeher.Let’splandinnerforwhenthey’rehere.”
“I’llletherknow.”
GracehandsDiemafrenchfryandsays,“Thedateiscomingup.Howareyoufeeling?”
Iblinktwice.Iknowshe’snotreferringtoanythingrelatedtoScotty,butIhavenoideawhatshe’stalkingabout.
“Leah?”Gracesays.“Thecancelledwedding?”
“Oh.That.”Ishrug.“I’mfine.She’sfine.Thingsarebetterthisway.”
Gracefrownsalittlebit.ShealwayslikedLeah,butIdon’tthinksheknewtherealLeahverywell.NotthatLeahisabadperson.Iwouldn’thaveproposedtoherifIthoughtshewas.
Shejustwasn’tgoodenoughforDiem,andifGraceknewthat,she’dthankmeforcallingofftheengagementratherthancontinuetobringitupinhopesIchangemymind.
“How’sthehousecomingalong?”Patrickasks.
“Fine.IthinkI’mjustafewmonthsoutfromhavingitmove-inready.”
“Whenareyouputtingyourcurrenthouseupforsale?”
Thethoughtofthatmakesmesinkaninchdeeperintomyseat.Puttingitupforsalewillfeellikesellingoffapieceofmyself,forsomanyreasons.“Idon’tknowyet.”
“Idon’twantyoutomove,”Diemsays.
Thosesixwordshitmerightintheheart.
“Butyou’llgettogostaywithhimathisnewhouse,”Gracesays,attemptingtoreassureher.“Hewon’tbefar.”
“Ilikethehousehehasnow,”Diemsayswithapout.“Icanwalkthereallbymyself.”
Diemisstaringatherhands.IwanttoreachoverandpullheroutofGrace’slapandhugherandtellherI’llneverleaveher,butitwouldbealie.
IwishIwouldhavewaitedjustsixmonthsbeforedecidingtobuildthathousebackwhenDiemwasyounger.SixmonthswouldhavebeenplentyoftimetoknowthatthelittlegirlGraceandPatrickwereraisingwouldinfiltratemylifeandmyheartasifImadehermyself.
“Diemwillbefine,”Gracereassuresme.Shemustbedecipheringthelookonmyfacerightnow.“It’stwentyminutes.Hardlyanythingwillchange.”
IstareatDiem,andshelooksupatme,andIswearIcanseetearsinhereyes.ButsheclosesthemandcurlsintoGracebeforeIcanbesure.CHAPTERTWENTY-THREE
KENNA
IfoundoutfromthepaperworkheleftmetosignthatLedgerispayingmewaymorethanwhatthegrocerystorepaysme.
Becauseofthat,andbecauseit’sjustinmynature,I’vebeenbustingmyassallnight.I’vebeenreorganizingeverything.NoonesaidIneededto,butIwashdishesfasterthantheycomebacktome,sobetweenboutsofdirtydishes,I’vebeenreorganizingtheshelves,thestockroom,allthedishesinthecabinets.
I’vehadfiveyearsofpractice.Ididn’ttellLedgeraboutmykitchenexperience,becauseit’salwaysawkwardtotalkabout,butIworkedinthekitchenwhenIwasaway.Acoupledozenbarpatronsisawalkintheparkcomparedtohundredsofwomen.
Iwasn’tsurehowitwouldfeelbeingstuckbackherewithAaronatfirstbecausehelooksintimidating,withstockyshouldersanddark,expressiveeyebrows.Buthe’sateddybear.
Hesaidhe’sbeenworkingheresinceLedgeropenedthedoorsseveralyearsago.
Aaronisamarriedfatheroffourandworkstwojobs.Maintenanceatthehighschoolduringtheweek,andkitchendutyonFridaysandSaturdayshere.Allhischildrenaregrownandoutofthehousenow,buthesayshekeepsthisjobbecausehesavesuphispaychecksandheandhiswifeliketotakeanannualvacationtovisitherfamilyinEcuador.
Helikestodancewhileheworks,sohekeepsthespeakersturnedup,andheyellswhenhetalks.Whichisentertaining,sincehe’susuallytalkingabouttheotheremployees.HetoldmeMaryAnnehasbeendatingaguyforsevenyearsandthey’reabouttohaveasecondchildtogether,butsherefusestomarryhimbecauseshehateshislastname.HedivulgedthatRomanisobsessedwithamarriedwomanwhoownsthebakerydownthestreet,sohe’sconstantlybringingcupcakestowork.
He’sjustabouttotellmeallabouttheotherbartender,Razi,whensomeonewalksthroughthekitchendoorsandsays,“Holyshit.”Ispinaroundandfindthewaitress,MaryAnne,lookingaroundthekitchen.“Youdidallthis?”
Inod.
“Ididn’trealizewhatamessitwasuntilnow.Wow.Ledgerwillbeimpressedwithhisrashdecisionwhenhegetsback.”
Ididn’tevenknowhewasgone.Ican’tseeupfront,andnoneofthebartendershavebeenbacktothekitchenatall.
MaryAnneputsherhandonherstomachandwalkstoarefrigerator.Shelookstobearoundfivemonthsalong.SheopensaTupperwarecontainerandgrabsahandfulofgrapetomatoes.Shepopsoneinhermouthandsays,“TomatoesareallIcrave.Marinarasauce.Pizza.Ketchup.”Sheoffersmeone,butIshakemyhead.“Tomatoesgivemeheartburn,butIcan’tstopeatingthem.”
“Isthisyourfirst?”Iaskher.
“No,Ihaveatwo-year-oldboy.Thisone’salsoaboy.Youhaveanykids?”
Ineverknowhowtoanswerthisquestion.Ithasn’tcomeupmuchsinceIwasreleasedfromprison,butthefewtimesithas,IusuallysayIdoandthenimmediatelychangethesubject.ButIdon’twantanyoneheretostartaskingquestions,soIjustshakemyheadandkeepthefocusonher.“Whatareyounaminghim?”
“Notsureyet.”Sheeatsanothertomatoandthenputsthecontainerbackintherefrigerator.“What’syourstory?”sheasks.“Younewaroundhere?Youmarried?Youseeinganyone?Howoldareyou?”
Ihavedifferentanswersforeveryquestioncomingatme,soInod,thenshakemyhead,andIenduplookinglikemyheadiswobblinglikeabobbleheaddollbythetimeshestopsfiringquestionsatme.
“Ijustmovedtotown.I’mtwenty-six.Single.”
Sheraisesabrow.“DoesLedgerknowyou’resingle?”
“Iguess.”
“Huh,”shesays.“Maybethatexplainsit.”
“Explainswhat?”
MaryAnneandAaronexchangealook.“WhyLedgerhiredyou.We’vebeenwondering.”
“Whydidhehireme?”I’dliketoknowwhatshethinksisthereason.
“Idon’tmeanthistocomeoffinanegativeway,”shesays,“butwe’vehadthesameemployeesforovertwoyearsnow.He’snevermentionedneedingmorehelp,somytheoryisthathehiredyoutomakeLeahjealous.”
“MaryAnne.”Aaronsayshernamelikeit’sawarning.
Shewaveshimoff.“Ledgerwassupposedtogetmarriedthismonth.Heactslikehe’sokaythattheweddingwascalledoff,butsomethinghasbeenbotheringhimlately.He’sbeenactingweird.Andthenyouapplyforajobandhejusthiresyouonthespotwhenwedon’tevenneedthehelp?”Sheshrugs.“Makessense.You’regorgeous.He’sheartbroken.Ithinkhe’sfillingavoid.”
Itactuallydoesn’tmakesenseatall,butIgetthefeelingMaryAnneisthecurioustype,andIdon’twanttosayanythingtomakeherevenmorecuriousaboutmypresencehere.
“Ignoreher,”Aaronsays.“MaryAnnecravesgossipasmuchasshecravestomatoes.”
Shelaughs.“It’strue.Iliketotalkshit.Idon’tmeananythingbyit;I’mjustbored.”
“Whywashisweddingcalledoff?”Iaskher.Apparently,she’snottheonlycuriousoneinthiskitchen.
Sheshrugs.“Idon’tknow.Leah,hisex,toldpeopletheyweren’tcompatible.Ledgerdoesn’ttalkaboutit.He’sahardeggtocrack.”
Romanpeeksthroughthedoubledoors,andhispresencestealsherattention.“Thefratboysneedyou,MaryAnne.”
Sherollshereyesandsays,“Ugh.Ihatecollegekids.They’reterribletippers.”
AaronsuggestsItakeabreakaboutthreehoursintomyshift,soIdecidetospenditsittingonthestepsinthealley.Iwasn’tsureifI’dgetabreak,orwhatmyhourswouldevenbetonight,soIgrabbedsomechipsandabottledwaterbeforeIleftthegrocerystoreearlier.
It’squieterinthealley,butIcanstillhearthebassofthemusic.MaryAnnecamebacktochatagainearlierandshesawIhadpiecesofpapertowelstuckinmyearstodrownoutthemusicwhileIworked.IliedandtoldherIgetmigraineseasily,butIreallyjusthatemostmusic.
Everysongisareminderofsomethingbadinmylife,soI’dratherhearnosongsatall.Shesaysshehasapairofheadphonesshecanbringmetomorrow.Sofar,themusicistheonlypartofthisjobIdon’tlike.Thatwasonegoodthingaboutprison—Irarelyheardmusic.
Romanopensthebackdoorandseemsmomentarilysurprisedtofindmeonthesteps,buthewalksovertotheothersideofthealleyandflipsabucketupsidedown.Hesitsonitandstretcheshislegout,puttingpressureonhisknee.“How’syourfirstnight?”heasks.
“Good.”I’venoticedRomanlimpswhenhewalks,andnowhe’sstretchinghisleglikehe’sinpain.Idon’tknowifit’sanewinjury,butIfeellikeifitis,hemightneedtotakeiteasierthanhehasbeentonight.He’sabartender;theyneversit.“Didyouhurtyourleg?”
“It’sanoldinjury.Itflaresupwiththeweather.”Hehikesuphispantlegandrevealsalongscaronhisknee.
“Ouch.How’dthathappen?”
Romanleansbackagainstthebrickonthesideofthebuilding.“Profootballinjury.”
“Youplayedprofootballtoo?”
“IplayedforadifferentteamthanLedgerdid.I’dratherdiethanplayfortheBroncos.”Hegesturestowardhisknee.“Thishappenedaboutayearandahalfin.Endedmyfootballcareer.”
“Wow.I’msosorry.”
“Hazardofthejob.”
“How’dyouendupworkingherewithLedger?”
Heeyesmecarefully.“Icouldaskthesameofyou.”
Fairenough.Idon’tknowhowmuchRomanknowsaboutmystory,butLedgerdidmentionhe’stheonlyoneherewhoknowswhoIam.I’msurethatmeansheknowseverything.
Idon’twanttotalkaboutmyself.
Luckily,Idon’thavetobecausethealleyfillswithlightfromLedger’struckashepullsintohisusualparkingspot.Forwhateverreason,Romanusesthismomenttoescapebackinsideandleavemeoutherealone.
ItensewithRoman’sdisappearanceandLedger’sreturn.I’membarrassedI’msittingoutsideonthesteps.AssoonasLedgeropensthedoorofhistruck,Isay,“I’vebeenworking.Iswear.YoujusthappenedtopulluprightwhenItookabreak.”
Ledgersmilesashegetsoutofthetruck,likemyexplanationisunnecessary.Idon’tknowwhyIhaveaphysicalreactiontothatsmile,butitsendsaswirlthroughmystomach.Hispresencealwayscreatesthishumrightundermyskin,likeI’mbuzzingwithnervousenergy.Maybeit’sbecausehe’smyonlylinktomydaughter.Maybeit’sbecauseIthinkaboutwhathappenedbetweenusinthisalleyeverytimeIclosemyeyesatnight.
Maybeit’sbecausehe’smybossnow,andIreallydon’twanttolosethisjob,andhereIamnotdoinganything,andIsuddenlyfeellikeapatheticasshole.
Ilikeditmuchbetterwhenhewasn’there.Iwasmorerelaxed.
“How’sitgoingtonight?”Heleansagainsthistrucklikehe’sinnohurrytogetinside.
“Good.Everyone’sbeennice.”
Heraisesaneyebrowlikehedoesn’tbuythat.“EvenMaryAnne?”
“Well.She’sbeennicetome.Shekindoftalkedalittleshitaboutyou,though.”I’msmilingsoheknowsI’mteasing.ButshedidimplyheonlyhiredmebecausehethinksI’mprettyandhe’stryingtomakehisexjealous.“Who’sLeah?”
Ledger’sheadfallsbackagainsthistruck,andhegroans.“WhichoneofthembroughtupLeah?MaryAnne?”
Inod.“Shesaidyouweresupposedtogetmarriedthismonth.”
Ledgerlooksuncomfortable,butI’mnotgoingtobetheonetocutthisconversationshortonaccountofhisdiscomfort.Ifhedoesn’twanttotalkaboutit,hedoesn’thaveto.ButIwanttoknow,soIwaitexpectantlyforhimtomusterupananswer.
“ItwashonestlysostupidwhenIlookbackonit,”hesays.“Thewholebreakup.Wegotinanargumentaboutkidswedon’tevenhaveyet.”
“Andthatendedyourengagement?”
Henods.“Yep.”
“Whatwastheargument?”
“SheaskedmeifIwasgoingtolovemyfuturekidsmorethanIloveDiem.AndIsaidno,Iwouldlovethemallthesame.”
“Thatmadeherangry?”
“ItbotheredherhowmuchtimeIspentwithDiem.Shesaidwhenwestartedafamilyofourownoneday,I’dhavetospendlesstimefocusingonDiemandmoretimeonourfamily.Itwaslikeanepiphany.Irealizedshedidn’tseeDiemfittingintoapotentialfuturefamilylikeIdid.Afterthat,Isortofjust…checkedout,Iguess.”
Idon’tknowwhyIexpectedtheirbreakuptobeoversomethingmoreserious.Peopledon’tusuallybreakupoverhypotheticalsituations,butitsaysalotaboutLedgerthathewasabletoseehisownhappinessistiedtoDiem’shappiness,andhewouldn’tsettleforanyonewhodidn’trespectthat.
“Leahsoundslikeaterriblebitch.”I’mhalfkiddingwhenIsayit,whichiswhyLedgerlaughs.ButthemoreIthinkaboutit,themoreirritatedIget.“Seriously,though.ScrewherforthinkingDiemisn’tworthyofthesameloveaskidswhodon’tevenexistyet.”
“Exactly.EveryonethoughtIwascrazyforbreakingupwithher,buttomeitwasaprecursortoallthepotentialproblemswe’dbefacingdowntheroad.”Hesmilesatme.“Lookatyoubeinganoverprotectivemother.Idon’tfeelsocrazynow.”
Assoonashesaysthat—acknowledgesmeasDiem’smother—myfacefalls.Itwasasimplesentence,butitmeanteverythingtohearitcomefromhim.
Evenifitslippedoutbyaccident.
Ledgerstraightensupandthenlockshistruck.“Ibettergetinside;theparkinglotlookedpacked.”
Heneversaidwhathelefttogodoforseveralhourstonight,butIhaveafeelinghewasdoingsomethingwithDiem.Buthecouldhavealsobeenonadate,whichunnervesmealmostasmuch.
I’mnotallowedtobeinmyowndaughter’slife,butwhoeverLedgerdecidestodategetstobeinherlife,andthatautomaticallymakesmejealousofwhatevergirlthatendsupbeing.
Atleastitwon’tbeLeah.
Screwher.
Romanbringsacratefullofglassestothebackandsetsthembythesinkforme.“I’mheadingout,”hesays.“Ledgersaidhe’dgiveyouaridehomeifyoudon’tmindwaiting.He’sgotabouthalfanhourofshitlefttodo.”
“Thanks,”IsaytoRoman.Hetakesoffhisapronandtossesitintoabasketwherealltheotheremployeeapronshaveendedupforthenight.“Whocleansthose?”Idon’tknowifthat’ssupposedtobemyjob.I’mnotevenreallysurewhatallmyjobentails.Ledgerwasn’theretotrainmethroughoutthenight,andeveryoneelsekindofpointedoutthingshereandtherethatIcoulddo,soI’vejustbeendoingeverythingIcangetmyhandson.
“There’sawasheranddryerupstairs,”Romansays.
“There’sanotherleveltothebar?”Ihaven’tseenanystairs.
Hepointsatthedoorthatleadsouttothealley.“Accesstothestairsisoutside.Halfofthespaceisstorage,theotherhalfisastudioapartmentwithawasheranddryer.”
“DoIneedtotakethemupandwashthem?”
Heshakeshishead.“Iusuallydothatinthemornings.Ilivethere.”HepullshisshirtofftotossitinthebasketjustasLedgerwalksintothekitchen.
Romanisshirtlessnow,changingintohisstreetclothes,andLedgerisstaringstraightatme.IknowitlookslikeIwasstaringatRomanashewaschanging,butwewerehavinganactiveconversation.Iwasn’tstaringathimbecausehewasmomentarilyshirtless.Notthatitmatters,butitembarrassesme,soIturnaroundandfocusontheremainingdishes.
RomanandLedgerhaveaconversationIcan’thear,butIdohearitwhenRomantellsLedgergoodnightandleaves.Ledgerdisappearsbackintothefrontofthebar.
I’malone,butIpreferitthatway.Ledgermakesmemorenervousthancomfortable.
Ifinishmyworkandwipeeverythingdownforafinaltime.It’shalfpastmidnight,andIhavenoideahowmuchlongerLedgerhasuntilhe’sfinished.Idon’twanttobotherhim,butI’mtootiredtowalkhome,soIwaitfortheride.
Igrabmystuffandpushmyselfontothecounter.Ipulloutmynotebookandmypen.Idon’tknowthatI’lleverdoanythingwiththelettersIwritetoScotty,butthey’recathartic.
DearScotty,
Ledgerisanasshole.We’veclarifiedthat.Imean,theguyturnedabookstoreintoabar.Whatkindofmonsterwoulddothat?
But…I’mbeginningtothinkhehasasweetsidetoo.Maybethat’swhyyoutwowerebestfriends.
“Whatareyouwriting?”
Islammynotebookshutatthesoundofhisvoice.Ledgerisremovinghisapron,eyeingme.Ishovemynotebookintomybagandmutter,“Nothing.”
Hetiltshishead,andhiseyesfillwithcuriosity.“Doyouliketowrite?”
Inod.
“Wouldyousayyou’remoreartisticormorescientific?”
That’sanoddquestion.Ishrug.“Idon’tknow.Artistic,Iguess.Why?”
Ledgergrabsacleanglassandwalksovertothesink.Hefillsitwithwaterandthentakesasip.“Diemhasawildimagination.Ialwayswonderedifshegotthatfromyou.”
Myheartfillswithpride.Ilovewhenherevealslittletidbitsabouther.Ialsoloveknowingsomeoneinherlifeappreciatesherimagination.IhadavividimaginationwhenIwasyounger,butmymotherstifledit.Itwasn’tuntilIvyencouragedmetoopenthatpartofmyselfbackupthatIactuallyfeltlikesomeonesupportedit.
Scottywouldhave,butIdon’teventhinkheknewIwasartistic.Hemetmeatatimewhenthatpartofmewasstillinadeepsleep.
It’sawakenow,though.ThankstoIvy.Iwriteallthetime.Iwritepoems,IwriteletterstoScotty,IwritebookideasIdon’tknowthatI’llevergetaroundtofleshingout.Writingmightactuallybewhatsavedmefrommyself.
“Imostlyjustwriteletters.”IregretsayingitassoonasIsayit,butLedgerdoesn’treacttothatconfession.
“Iknow.LetterstoScotty.”Hesetshisglassofwateronthetablebesidehimandthenfoldshisarmsoverhischest.
“HowdoyouknowIwritehimletters?”
“Isawone,”hesays.“Don’tworry,Ididn’treadit.IjustsawoneofthepageswhenIgrabbedyourbagoutofyourlocker.”
Iwonderedifhesawthatstackofpapers.Iwasworriedhemighthavepeeked,butifhesayshedidn’treadthem,forsomereasonIbelievehim.
“Howmanylettershaveyouwrittenhim?”
“Overthreehundred.”
Heshakeshisheadindisbelief,butthensomethingmakeshimsmile.“Scottyhatedwriting.Heusedtopaymetowritehisreportsforhim.”
Thatmakesmelaugh,becauseIwroteapaperortwoforhimwhenweweretogether.
It’sweirdtalkingwithsomeonewhoknewScottyinalotofthesamewaysIknewhim.I’vehonestlyneverexperiencedthisbefore.Itfeelsgood,thinkingabouthiminawaythatmakesmelaughinsteadofcry.
IwishIknewmoreaboutScottyoutsideofwhohewaswithme.
“Diemmightgrowuptobeawritersomeday.Shelikestomakeupwords,”Ledgersays.“Ifshedoesn’tknowwhatsomethingiscalled,shejustinventsawordforit.”
“Likewhat?”
“Solarlights,”hesays.“Thekindthatlinesidewalks?Wedon’tknowwhy,butshecallsthempatchels.”
Thatmakesmesmile,butitalsomakesmeachewithjealousy.Iwanttoknowherlikehedoes.“Whatelse?”MyvoiceisquieterbecauseI’mtryingtohidethefactthatit’sshaking.
“Theotherdayshewasridingherbike,andherfeetkeptslippingonthepedals.Shesaid,‘Myfeetwon’tstopflibbering.’Iaskedherwhatflibberingmeant,andshesaidit’swhenshewearsflip-flops,andherfeetslipoutofthem.Andshethinkssoakingmeans‘very.’She’llsay,‘I’msoakingtired,’or,‘I’msoakinghungry.’”
Ithurtstoomuchtoevenlaughatthat.Iforceasmile,butIthinkLedgercansensethatstoriesaboutadaughterI’mnotallowedtoknowarerippingmeintwo.Hestopssmilingandthenwalkstothesinkandwashestheglass.“Youready?”
Inodandhopoffthetable.
Onthedrivehome,hesays,“Whatareyougoingtodowiththeletters?”
“Nothing,”Isayimmediately.“Ijustlikewritingthem.”
“Whatarethelettersabout?”
“Everything.Sometimesnothing.”Ilookoutmywindowsohecan’treadthetruthonmyface.Butsomethinginmemakesmewanttobehonestwithhim.IwantLedgertotrustme.Ihavealottoprove.“I’mthinkingaboutcompilingthemandputtingthemintoabooksomeday.”
Thatgiveshimpause.“Willithaveahappyending?”
I’mstilllookingoutthewindowwhenIsay,“It’llbeabookaboutmylife,soIdon’tseehowitcould.”
Ledgerkeepshiseyesontheroadwhenheasks,“DoanyoftheletterstalkaboutwhathappenedthenightScottydied?”
Iputspacebetweenhisquestionandmyanswer.“Yes.Oneofthemdoes.”
“CanIreadit?”
“No.”
Ledger’seyesmeetminebriefly.Thenhelooksinfrontofhimandflipsonhisblinkertoturnontomystreet.Hepullsintoaparkingspotandleaveshistruckrunning.Idon’tknowifIshouldgetoutimmediately,orifthere’sanythinglefttobesaidbetweenus.Iputmyhandonthedoorhandle.
“Thankyouforthejob.”
Ledgertapsthesteeringwheelwithhisthumbandnods.“I’dsayyouearnedit.Thekitchenhasn’tbeenthatorganizedsinceI’veownedthebuilding,andyou’veonlyworkedoneshift.”
Hiscomplimentfeelsgood.Iabsorbitandthentellhimgoodnight.
AsmuchasIwanttolookbackathimwhenIgetoutofhistruck,Ikeepmyfocusaheadofme.Ilistenforhimtobackout,buthedoesn’t,whichmakesmethinkhewatchesmeasIwalkallthewayuptomyapartment.
OnceI’minside,Ivyimmediatelyrunsuptome.IpickherupandleavethelightsoffasIwalktothewindowtopeekout.
Ledgerisjustsittinginhistruck,staringupatmyapartment.Iimmediatelypressmybackagainstthewallnexttothewindow.Finally,Ihearhisenginerevupashebacksoutoftheparkingspot.
“Ivy,”Iwhisper,scratchingherhead.“Whatarewedoing?”CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR
LEDGER
“Ledger!”
Iglanceupfrompackingtheequipment,andIimmediatelystartpackingfaster.Themombrigadeiswalkingtowardme.Whentheycomeatmeingroupformationlikethis,it’snevergood.Therearefourofthem,andtheyhavematchingchairswitheachoftheirchildren’snamesonthebacksofthem.They’reeithergoingtotellmeI’mnotplayingtheirkidsenough,orthey’reabouttotrytosetmeupwithoneoftheirsinglefriends.
Iglanceattheplayground,andDiemisstilloutthereplayingchasewithtwoofherfriends.Graceiskeepinganeyeonher,soIgetthelasthelmetinthebag,butit’stoolatetopretendIdidn’tnoticetheyweretryingtogetmyattention.
Whitneyspeaksfirst.“WeheardDiem’smothershowedbackup.”
Imakebriefeyecontactwithher,buttrynottoshowanysortofsurprisethattheyknowKennaisintown.NoneofthemactuallyknewKennainthebrieftimeshedatedScotty.NoneofthesewomenevenknewScotty.
ButtheyknowDiem,andtheyknowme,andtheyknowthestory.So,theythinkthey’reentitledtothetruth.“Where’dyouhearthat?”
“Grace’scoworkertoldmyaunt,”oneofthemotherssays.
“Ican’tbelievesheactuallyhadthenervetocomeback,”Whitneysays.“GradysaidGraceandPatrickfiledarestrainingorder.”
“Theydid?”Iplaydumb,becauseit’sbetterthanlettingthemknowhowmuchIknow.They’lljustaskmorequestions.
“Youdidn’tknow?”Whitneyasks.
“Wetalkedaboutit.Wasn’tsureiftheywentthroughwithit.”
“Idon’tblamethem,”shesays.“WhatifshetriestotakeDiem?”
“Shewouldn’tdothat,”Isay.Ithrowthebaginmytruckandslamthetailgateshut.
“Iwouldn’tputitpasther,”Whitneysays.“Addictsdocrazyshit.”
“Sheisn’tanaddict.”Isayittooadamantly.Tooquickly.IcanseesuspicioninWhitney’seyes.
IwishRomanwereatthisgame.Hecouldn’tmakeittoday,andhe’susuallymyexcusetoescapethemombrigade.SomeofthemarefriendswithLeah,sotheydon’tflirtwithmedirectly,outofrespectforher.ButRomanisn’tofflimits,soIusuallyleavehimtothewolveswhentheyshowup.
“TellGradyIsaidhello.”IwalkawayfromthemandheadtowardGraceandDiem.
Idon’tknowhowtodefendKennainthesekindsofsituations.Idon’tknowthatIshould.Butitfeelswrongallowingeveryonetocontinuetothinktheworstofher.
Ididn’ttellKennaIwaspickingheruptoday,butIdidn’tknowIwasuntilIwasonmywaytothebarandrealizeditwasalmosttimeforhershiftatthegrocerystoretoend.
Ipullintotheparkinglot,andit’snoteventwowholeminutesbeforeshewalksoutside.Shedoesn’tnoticemytruck.Shewalkstowardtheroad,soIdriveacrosstheparkinglottointercepther.
Sheseesmytruck,andIswearshemakesafacewhenIpointtothepassengerdoor.Shemutters“Thanks”whensheopensthedoor.Andthen,“Youdon’thavetogivemerides.I’mfinewalking.”
“Ijustlefttheballfield;itwasonmyway.”
Shesetsherpursebetweenusandthenpullsonherseatbelt.“IssheanygoodatT-ball?”
“Yeah.Idon’tthinkshelikesthegameasmuchasshelikeshangingoutwithherfriends,though.Butifshestuckwithit,Ithinkshe’dbeprettygood.”
“WhatelsedoesshedobesidesT-ball?”
Ican’tblameKennaforbeingcurious.I’veputmyselfinthispositionbyalreadysharingtoomuchwithher,butnowthemomshaveplantedaseedinmyhead.
Whatifshe’sonlyaskingsoshecangetahandleonDiem’sschedule?ThemoresheknowsaboutDiem’sactivities,theeasieritwouldbeforhertoshowupandtakeher.Ifeelguiltyeventhinkingthat,butDiemismynumberonepriorityinlife,soI’dfeelevenshittiernotfeelingalittleoverprotective.
“I’msorry,”Kennasays.“Ishouldn’taskyouquestionsyoudon’tfeelcomfortableanswering.It’snotmyplace.”
ShelooksoutherwindowasIpullontothestreet.Shedoesthisthingwheresheflexesherfingersandthengripsherthighs.Diemdoesthesamethingwithherfingers.It’sincrediblehowtwopeoplewhohavenevermetcanhavesomanyofthesamemannerisms.
It’stooloudinthetruck,andIfeellikeIneedtowarnher,soIrollupmywindowasIpickupspeed.“Theyfiledarestrainingorderagainstyou.”
Iseeherlookatmeoutofthecornerofmyeye.“Areyouserious?”
“Yes.Iwantedtogiveyouaheads-upbeforeyougetservedpapers.”
“Whywouldtheydothat?”
“IthinkwhathappenedatthegrocerystorescaredGrace.”
Sheshakesherheadandlooksbackoutherwindow.Shedoesn’tsayanythingelseuntilwepulluptothealleybehindthebar.
IfeellikeI’vesetherupforfailuretonightbyputtingherinabadmoodassoonasshegotinmytruck.Ishouldn’thavetoldherabouttherestrainingorderrightbeforehershift,butIfeellikeshehastherighttoknow.Shehonestlyhasn’tdoneanythingtodeservebeingservedarestrainingorder,butthesimplefactthatsheexistsinthesametownasDiemisreasonenoughfortheLandrystofileoneonher.
“Shetakesdance,”Isay,answeringherearlierquestionaboutDiem.Iputmytruckinparkandpullupthevideofromherrecital.“That’swhereIwaslastnight.Shehadarecital.”IhandKennathephone.
Shewatchesthefirstseveralsecondswithastraightfaceandthenburstsintolaughter.
IhatethatIlovewatchingKenna’sfacewhenshewatchesvideosofDiem.Itdoessomethingtome.MakesmefeelsomethingIprobablyshouldn’tbefeeling.ButIlikethefeeling,anditmakesmewonderwhatitwouldbelikegettingtowitnessKennaandDieminteractinreallife.
Kennawatchesthevideothreetimeswithahugesmileonherface.“She’shorrible!”
Itmakesmelaugh.There’sajoytohervoicethatisn’tusuallythere,andIwonderifthatjoywouldalwaysbepresentifDiemwereapartofKenna’slife.
“Doesshelikedance?”Kennaasks.
Ishakemyhead.“No.Aftertherecitalwasover,shesaidshewantedtoquitanddo‘thatthingwiththeswords.’”
“Fencing?”
“Shewantstotryeverything.Allthetime.Butsheneverstickstoanythingbecauseshegetsboredwithitandthinksthenextthingwillbemoreinteresting.”
“Theysayboredomisasignofintelligence,”Kennasays.
“She’sverysmart,sothatwouldmakesense.”
Kennasmiles,butasshehandsmebackmyphone,hersmilefalters.Sheopensthedoorandheadstowardthebackdoor,soIfollowsuit.
Iopenthebackdoorforher,andwe’regreetedbyAaron.“Hey,boss,”hesays.“Hey,Nic.”
Kennawalksovertohim,andheliftsahand.Theyhigh-fivelikethey’veknowneachotheralotlongerthanjustoneshift.
Romanwalksintothebackholdingatrayofemptybottles.Henodsatme.“How’ditgo?”
“Noonecriedandnoonevomited,”Isay.That’swhatweconsiderasuccessfuldayinT-ball.
RomangetsKenna’sattention.“Shehadgluten-free.Iputthreeoftheminthefridgeforyou.”
“Thankyou,”Kennasays.It’sthefirsthintofexcitementI’veeverseencomefromherthathadnothingtodowithDiem.Ihavenoideawhatthey’retalkingabout.Iwasgoneforafewhourslastnight,andit’slikeshedevelopedpersonalrelationshipswitheveryonehere.
AndwhyisRomanbuyingherthreeofwhateveritisthey’retalkingabout?
WhyamIhavingaslightvisceralreactiontothethoughtofKennaandRomanbecomingclose?Wouldhehitonher?WouldIevenhavearighttobejealous?WhenIgotbacktothebarlastnight,theyweretakingtheirbreakatthesametime.DidRomandothatonpurpose?
RightwhenIhavethatthought,MaryAnneshowsupforhershift.ShehandsKennaapairofwhatlooklikenoise-cancellingheadphones.Kennasays,“You’realifesaver.”
“IknewIhadanextrapairathome,”MaryAnnesays.Shepassesmeandsays,“Hey,boss,”beforeheadingtothefront.
Kennahangstheheadphonesaroundherneckandthentiesherapron.Theheadphonesaren’tevenattachedtoanything,andshedoesn’thaveaphone.I’mconfusedabouthowshe’sgoingtolistentomusicwiththem.
“Whatarethosefor?”Iaskher.
“Todrownoutthemusic.”
“Youdon’twanttohearmusic?”
Shefacesthesink,butnotbeforeIseeherexpressionfalter.“Ihatemusic.”
Shehatesmusic?Isthatevenathing?“Whydoyouhatemusic?”
Shelooksatmeoverhershoulder.“Becauseit’ssad.”Shecoversherearswiththeheadphonesandstartsrunningwaterinthesink.
Musicistheonethingthatgroundsme.Icouldn’timaginenotbeingabletoconnectwithit,butKennaisright.Mostsongsareaboutloveorloss,twothingsthatareprobablyincrediblydifficultforhertoabsorbinanymedium.
Ileavehertoherdutiesandheadtothefronttostartonmine.Wehaven’topenedjustyet,sothebarisempty.MaryAnneisunlockingthefrontdoor,soIpausenexttoRoman.“Threewhat?”
Heglancesatme.“Huh?”
“YousaidyouputthreeofsomethinginthefridgeforKenna.”
“Nicole,”hecorrects,lookingacrosstheroomatMaryAnne.“AndIwastalkingaboutcupcakes.Herlandlordcan’thavegluten,andshe’stryingtostayonhergoodside.”
“Why?”
“Idon’tknow,somethingaboutherelectricbill.”Romanside-eyesmeandthenwalksaway.
I’mgladshe’sgettingalongwitheveryone,butthere’salsoasmallpartofmethatregretsleavingformostofmyshiftlastnight.IfeelliketheyallgottoknowKennainawayIdon’tknowKenna.Idon’tknowwhythatbothersme.
Igotothejukeboxtostartupafewsongsbeforethecrowdarrives,andIanalyzeeachsongIchoose.It’sadigitaljukeboxwithaccesstothousandsofsongs,butIrealizeitwouldtakemeallnighttofindevenahandfulthatwouldn’tremindKennaofScottyorDieminsomeway.
She’sright.Intheend,ifthere’snothinggoodgoingoninyourlife,almosteverysongbecomesdepressing,nomatterwhatit’sabout.
Iputitonshuffletomatchmymood.CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE
KENNA
Igotapaycheck.Itwassmall,andthewaythepaydaysworkedout,itwasonlyforapartialweek,butitwasenoughtofinallygetanewphone.
I’msittingonthepicnictableoutsidemyapartmentbrowsingapps.Iopenedatthegrocerystoretoday,soIhadseveralhoursbetweenthatshiftandmyshiftatthebartonight,soI’mjustpassingtimeoutside.ItrytogetasmuchvitaminDasIcan,consideringmyoutdoortimewasscheduledandlimitedforfivesolidyears.IshouldprobablybuyvitaminDsupplementssomybodycancatchup
Acarpullsintoaparkingspot,andIlookupintimetoseeLadyDianawavingwildlyatmefromthefrontseat.Weworkdifferentshiftsmostdays,whichisunfortunate.Itwouldbenicetobeabletoaskhermotherforaridetoandfromwork,butmyhoursarelongerthanLadyDiana’s.Ledgerhasgivenmeridesahandfuloftimes,butIhaven’tseenhimatallsincehedroppedmeoffatmyapartmentaftermysecondshiftlastSaturdaynight.
I’venevermetLadyDiana’smother.Shelookstobealittleolderthanme,maybemidthirties.ShesmilesandfollowsLadyDianaacrossthegrassuntiltheyreachme.LadyDianagesturestowardthephoneinmyhand.“Shegotaphone—whycan’tIhaveaphone?”
Hermothersitsnexttome.“She’sanadult,”hermothersays,glancingatme.“Hi.I’mAdeline.”
Ineverknowhowtointroducemyself.I’mNicoleatbothofmyjobs,butIintroducedmyselfasKennatoLadyDianathefirsttime,andalsoasKennatothelandlord,Ruth.Thisisgoingtocatchuptomeeventually,soIsomehowneedtofigureoutawaytomakethelieatruth.
“Kenna,”Isay.“ButIgobyNicole.”Thatfeelsokay.It’skindofalie.Kindofthetruth.
“Igotanewboyfriendatworktoday,”LadyDianasaystome.She’sbouncingonhertoes,fullofenergy.Hermothergroans.
“Oh,yeah?”
LadyDiananods.“HisnameisGil,heworkswithus,he’stheguywiththeredhair,heaskedmetobehisgirlfriend.HehasDownsyndromelikemeandhelikesvideogamesandIthinkI’mgonnamarryhim.”
“Slowdown,”hermothersays.LadyDianaspokeinonesolidrun-onsentence,soI’mnotsureifhermotheristellinghertoslowdownwhenshespeaksorslowdownontheweddingplans.
“Ishenice?”Iaskher.
“HehasaPlayStation.”
“Butishenice?”
“HehaslotsofPokémoncards.”
“Ishenice,though?”Irepeat.
Sheshrugs.“Idon’tknow.I’llhavetoaskhim.”
Ismile.“Yes.Dothat.Youshouldonlymarrypeoplewhoarenicetoyou.”
Adelinelooksatme.“Doyouknowthiskid?Gil?”Shesayshisnamewithcontempt,anditmakesmelaugh.
Ishakemyhead.“No,butI’llkeepaneyeoutforhim.”IlookatLadyDiana.“AndI’llmakesurehe’snice.”
Adelinelooksrelieved.“Thankyou.”Shestandsup.“AreyoucomingtothelunchonSunday?”
“Whatlunch?”
“We’rehavingasmalllunchhereforMother’sDay;ItoldLadyDianatoinviteyou.”
Ifeelthestinginthementionofthatholiday.I’vetriednottothinkaboutit.It’llbethefirsttimeI’veexperienceditoutsideofprisonandinthesametownasDiem.
LadyDianasays,“Kenna’sdaughterwaskidnapped,soIdidn’tinviteher.”
Iimmediatelyshakemyhead.“Shewasn’tkidnapped.Ijust…it’salongstory.Idon’thavecustodyofherrightnow.”Iammortified.Adelinecantell.
“Don’tworry,thelunchisforeveryonewholiveshere,”Adelinesays.“WemostlyhostitforRuthsinceherkidslivesofaraway.”
Inod,becauseIfeellikeifIagreetocome,shewon’tpressureme,andthenmaybeIwon’thavetoexplainwhyLadyDianasaidmydaughterwaskidnapped.“WhatcanIbring?”
“We’vegotitcovered,”shesays.“Itwasgoodtomeetyou.”Shestartstowalkaway,butspinsaround.“Actually,doyouknowanyonewithanextratableandafewchairs?Ithinkwe’regonnaneedmoreseating.”
Iwanttosayno,sinceIdon’tknowanyonebutLedger.ButIdon’twanthertothinkI’maslonelyasIam,soIjustnodandsay,“Icanaskaround.”
Adelinetellsmeitwasnicetofinallymeetme,andthenshewalkstowardtheirapartment,butLadyDianalingersbehind.Whenhermotherisgone,shereachesformyphone.“CanIplayagame?”
Ihandherthephone,andshesitsinthegrassnexttothepicnictable.IneedtogetreadyformyshiftatWard’s.“I’mgonnagochange.YoucanplaywithmyphoneuntilIgetbackdown.”LadyDiananodsbutdoesn’tlookatme.
I’dlovetobeabletosaveforacarsoInolongerhavetowalktowork,butbeingforcedtosaveupinordertojustmoveawayandmaketheLandrysmorecomfortableisreallyeatingintomyfinancialplans.
Igettothebarearly,butthebackdoorisunlocked.
IfeelconfidentinwhatIneedtodoafterhavingworkedherelastweek.IputonmyapronandstarttogetthesinkwaterreadywhenRomanwalkstotheback.
“You’reearly,”hesays.
“Yeah.Wasn’tsurehowbadtrafficwouldbe.”
Romanlaughs.HeknowsIdon’thaveacar.
“WhousedtowashdishesbeforeLedgerhiredme?”Iaskhim.
“Everyone.Weallpitchedinwhenwehadasparesecond,orwe’dwaituntiltheendofthenightandtaketurnsstayinglatetoclean.”Hegrabshisapron.“Idoubtwe’lleverwanttogobackdownanemployeeafterthis.It’sniceactuallygettingtoleavewhenthebarcloses.”
IwonderifRomanknowsmypositionisonlytemporary.Heprobablydoes.
“It’sgonnabebusytonight,”hewarns.“Lastdayoffinalsweretoday.Ihaveafeelingwe’regonnaseearushofcollegekids.”
“MaryAnnewilllovethat.”Ipourliquidsoapintothebin.“Hey.Quickquestion.”Ifacehim.“There’saluncheonatmyapartmentonSunday.Theyneedanextratable.Doyouguyshappentohaveonehere?”
Romannudgeshisheadtowardtheceiling.“Upinstorage,Ithink.”Helooksathisphonescreen.“Westillhaveawhilebeforeweopen.Let’sgocheck.”
Iturnoffthewaterandfollowhimouttothealley.Hepullsaringofkeysfromhispocketandflipsthroughthem.“Excusethemess,”hesays,insertingakeyintothedoor.“Iusuallykeepitalittlecleaneruphereincasewehavearunt,butit’sbeenawhile.”Hepullsthedooropentorevealawell-litstairwell.
“What’sarunt?”IaskasIfollowhimuptotheapartment.Thestairwellcurvesafterthelaststep,andthedooropensuptoaspaceaboutthesizeofthebackkitchenofthebar.It’sthesamefloorplan,butit’sfinishedouttoactuallybealivingspace.
“Runtsarewhatwecalltheleftoverdrunkpeopleattheendofthenightthatnooneclaims.Sometimesweputthemonthecouchuphereuntiltheysoberupandrememberwheretheyneedtogo.”Heflipsonalight,andthecouchisthefirstthingIsee.It’soldandworn,andIcantellit’scomfortablejustbylookingatit.There’sastandwithaflat-screenTVonitafewfeetawayfromaking-sizebed.
It’sanefficiencyapartment,completewithakitchenandasmalldiningroomwithawindowthatoverlooksthestreetinfrontofthebar.It’stwicethesizeofmineandactuallyhasalittlecharm.
“It’scute.”IpointtothecounterinthekitchenwhenIseeatleastthirtycoffeemugslinedupagainstthewall.“Youaddictedtocoffeeorjustcoffeemugs?”
“It’salongstory.”Romanflipsthroughhiskeysagain.“There’sastorageareabehindthisdoor.LasttimeIlooked,therewasatable,butIcan’tmakeanypromises.”Hegetsthedoorunlocked,andwhenhepullsitopen,therearetwosix-foottablesstackedverticallyagainstthewall.Ihelphimashepullsoneout.“Youneedbothofthem?”
“Onewilldo.”Weleanthetableagainstthecouch,andthenheclosesandlocksthedoor.
Webothliftoneendtocarryitdownstairs.“WecanleaveitatthebottomofthestairwellfornowandthenthrowitinthebackofLedger’strucktonight,”hesays.
“Awesome.Thankyou.”
“Whatkindofluncheonisit?”
“Justapotluck.”Idon’twanttoadmitit’sforMother’sDay.ItwouldseemlikeI’mcelebratingtheholiday,andIdon’twanttobejudged.
NotthatRomanseemslikethejudgmentaltype.Heactuallyseemslikeadecentperson,andhe’shandsomeenoughthatI’dprobablylookathimdifferentlyifIdidn’talreadyknowwhatitwasliketokissLedger.
Ican’tlookatanotherman’smouthwithoutwishingIwaslookingatLedger’s.IhatethatIstillfindhimasattractiveasIdidthefirstnightIwalkedintohisbar.Itwouldbesomucheasiertobeattractedtosomeoneelse.Anyoneelse.
Romanpropsthetableupatthebottomofthestairwell.“Doyouneedchairs?”
“Chairs.Shit.Yes.”Ididn’tthinkaboutchairs.Heheadsbackupstairs,andIfollowhim.“So,howdoyouandLedgerknoweachother?”
“He’stheonewhoinjuredmeplayingfootball.”
Ipauseatthetopofthestairs.“Heendedyourfootballcareer,andnowyou’re…friends?”I’mnotsureIfollowhowthattrajectorycouldhaveoccurred.
Romaneyesmecarefullyasheunlocksthestorageroomdooragain.“Youreallydon’tknowthisstory?”
Ishakemyhead.“I’vebeensortofpreoccupiedforseveralyears.”
Helaughsquietly.“Yeah.Iguessso.I’llgiveyouthecondensedversion.”Heopensthedoorandstartsgrabbingchairs.“Ihadtohavekneesurgeryaftertheinjury,”Romansays.“Iwasinalotofpain.GotaddictedtopainpillsandspenteverypennyImadeintheNFLonmyaddiction.”Hesetstwochairsoutsidethedoorandthengrabstwomore.“Let’sjustsayIfuckedupmylifeprettygood.WordgotbacktoLedger,andhetrackedmedown.Ithinkhefeltsomewhatresponsible,eventhoughwhathedidtomykneewasanaccident.Butheshowedupwheneveryoneelsebowedout.HemadesureIgotthehelpIneeded.”
Idon’tknowwhattodowithalltheinformationhejusthandedme.“Oh.Wow.”
Romanhasallsixchairsstackedagainstthewallbeforeheclosesthedoor.HegrabsfourandIgrabtwo,andweheadbackdown.“LedgergavemeajobandrentedthisapartmenttomewhenIgotoutofrehabtwoyearsago.”Wesetthechairsagainstthewallbeforewalkingoutside.“Ihonestlydon’tevenrememberhowitstarted,buthe’dgivemeacoffeemugontheweeklyanniversaryofmysobriety.HestillgivesmeamugeveryFriday,butnowhejustdoesittobeanassholebecauseheknowsI’mrunningoutofspace.”
That’shonestlykindofadorable.“Hopefullyyoulikecoffee.”
“Isurviveoncoffee.Youdon’twanttobearoundmeifIhaven’thadit.”Roman’seyeslockonsomethingbehindme.IturnaroundtofindLedgerstandingbetweenhistruckandthebackdoortothebar.He’sstaringatus.
Romandoesn’tpauselikeIdo.Hekeepswalkingtowardthebackdoortothebar.“Kennaisborrowingatableandsomechairsforathingshe’shavingSunday.Weputthematthebottomofthestairwell.Grabthembeforeyouleave.”
“Nicole,”Ledgersays,correctingRoman.
“Nicole.Whatever,”Romansays.“Don’tforget.Tables.Chairs.Ridehome.”Hedisappearsintothebar.
Ledgerlooksatthegroundforamomentbeforestaringatme.“Whatkindofthingdoyouneedatablefor?”
Ishovemyhandsinmybackpockets.“It’sjustalunchonSunday.Atmyapartment.”Hecontinuestostareatmeasifhewantsmoreofanexplanation.
“SundayisMother’sDay.”
Inodandstartwalkingtowardthedoor.“Yep.MightaswellcelebratewiththemothersatmyapartmentsinceIcan’tcelebratethedaywithmyowndaughter.”MyvoiceisclippedwhenIwalkinside.Maybeabitaccusatory.Thedoorfallsshutbehindmewithathud,andIwalkstraighttothesinkandturnonthewater.IgrabtheheadphonesMaryAnneletmeborrowlastweek,butthistimeIplugthemintomyphonenowthatIfinallyhaveone.Iloadedupanaudiobooktogetmethroughtheshift.
IcanfeelaslightbreezemeetmyneckwhenLedgerentersthebuilding.Iwaitafewsecondsandthenlookovermyshouldertoseewhereheisandwhathe’sdoing.
He’swalkingtowardthefront,staringstraightaheadthewholetime.Ican’ttellwhathe’sthinkingwhenhewearsthatstoicexpression.ThethingaboutLedger’sexpressionsisIhaven’treallyseenmanyofthemsincethefirstnighthewasworking.Heseemedlooseandcarefreethatnightbehindthebar.ButsincethemomenthefoundoutwhoIwas,heseemsinflexibleinmypresence.Almostlikehe’sdoingeverythinghecantokeepmefromknowinghisthoughts.CHAPTERTWENTY-SIX
LEDGER
ThejointsinmybodyfeellockedinplaceasIattempttoexecutethemotionsoftheeveningwithastiffnessthatshouldbetheresultofahangover.ButI’mnothungover.Just…irritated?Isthatwhatthisis?
I’mreactinglikeanasshole.IknowitandRomanknowsit,butmymaturitycan’tseemtocatchupandtakeover.
HowlonghasKennabeenhere?HowlongweretheyinRoman’sapartment?Whydidsheseemshortwithme?WhythefuckdoIcare?
Idon’tknowwhattodowiththesefeelings,soIwadthemupandtrytokeepthemstuffedinmythroat,ormystomach,orwhereverpeopletuckawaythisshit.Idon’tneedtostartthisshiftwithanattitude.It’stheendoffinalsweek.Tonightisgoingtobeinsaneenoughasitis.
Iturnonthejukeboxandthefirstsongthatcomesonisoneleftoverfromlastnight’squeue.“IfWeWereVampires,”byJasonIsbell.
Great.Anepiclovesong.JustwhatKennaneeds.
Iwalktothebackandnoticeshe’sgotherheadphoneson.IgraballthefruitInormallysliceatthebeginningofmyshiftandtakeittothefront.
I’mslicingupalime,possiblyalittletooangrily,whenRomansays,“Yougood?”
“I’mfine.”ItrytosayitlikeIwouldnormallysayit,butIdon’tknowhowIwouldnormallysayitbecauseRomanneverhastoaskmeifI’mgood.I’musuallyalwaysgood.
“Roughday?”heasks.
“Greatday.”
Hesighsandreachesover,pullingtheknifeoutofmyhand.Ipressmypalmsintothecounterandturntolookathim.He’sleaningcasuallyonhiselbow,twirlingtheknifeinacirclewithhisfingerwhilehestaresatme.“Itwasnothing,”hesays.“Sheborrowedatableandsomechairs.Wewereupstairsforthreeminutes.”
“Ididn’tsayanything.”
“Youdidn’thaveto.”Hereleasesanexasperatedlaugh.“Shit,man.Ididn’tpegyouforthejealoustype.”
Ireachformyknifeandstartslicingthroughthelimesagain.“Ithasnothingtodowithjealousy.”
“Whatisit,then?”heasks.
I’mabouttoanswerhim,probablywithsomebullshitlie,butthedoorswingsopenandfourguysspillintothebar.Loud,readytocelebrate,possiblyalreadydrunk.IcutourconversationshortandprepareforashiftI’mnotatallinthemoodfor.
Eightlonghourslater,RomanandIareinthealleyloadingthetableandchairsintothebackofmytruck.We’vebarelyhadtimetothinktonight,muchlessfinishourconversationfromearlier.
Notmuchissaidbetweenus.We’rebothtired,andIthinkRomanistreadingcarefully,butthemoreIthinkabouthimandKennabeinginhisapartmenttogether,themoreitbothersme.
IcouldseeRomanbeingattractedtoher.AndIdon’tknowKennathatwell,butshe’dprobablybedesperateenoughtoattachherselftoanyonewhocouldbeanexcuseforhertostayinthistown.
Ifeelguiltyevenhavingthatthought.
“Wegonnatalkaboutthis?”Romanasks.
Islammytailgateshut,andthenIgripmytruckwithonehandandmyjawwiththeother.IchoosemywordscautiouslyasIbegintospeak.“Ifyoustartsomethingupwithher,she’llfindanexcusenottoleavetown.Thewholepointofherworkinghereissoshecansaveupmoneyandleave.”
Romanrollshishead,likerollinghiseyeswouldn’tconveyhisirritationenough.“YouthinkI’mtryingtohookupwithher?YouthinkIwoulddothattoyouaftereverythingyou’vedoneforme?”
“I’mnotmakingherofflimitsbecauseI’mjealous.IneedhertoleavetownsoPatrickandGrace’slifecangobacktonormal.”
Romanlaughs.“Youaresofullofshit.YouplayedintheNFL.Youownalucrativebusiness.You’rebuildingaridiculousfuckinghouse.Youaren’tbroke,Ledger.Ifyouwantedhertoleavetown,youwouldhavewrittenherachecktogetridofher.”
I’mtenseasfuck,soItiltmyheadtothesideuntilmyneckpops.“Shewouldn’thavetakenahandout.”
“Didyoueventry?”
Ididn’thaveto.IknowKenna,andshewouldn’thavetakenahandout.“Justbecarefulwithher,Roman.She’ddoanythingtobeinDiem’slife.”
“Well,atleastweagreeonthatpart,”hesays,rightbeforedisappearingintothestairwelltohisapartment.
Fuckhim.
Fuckhimbecausehe’sright.
AsmuchasIcantrytodenyit,I’mnotactingthiswaybecauseI’mworriedKennawillstayintownlonger.I’mupsetbecausethethoughtofherleavinghasmemoreonedgethanthethoughtofherstickingaround.
Howdidthishappen?HowdidIgofromabsolutelyloathingthiswomantofeelingsomethingelseentirely?AmIthatpatheticafriendtoScotty?AmIthatdisloyaltoPatrickandGrace?
Ididn’thireKennabecauseIwanthertoleave.IhiredherbecauseIlikebeinginherpresence.IhiredherbecauseIthinkaboutkissingheragaineverytimemyheadmeetsthepillowatnight.IhiredherbecauseI’mhopingPatrickandGracehaveachangeofheart,andIwanttobearoundifthathappens.CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN
KENNA
MyfaceisonfirewhenIbackawayfromthedoor.
IheardeverywordLedgersaidtoRoman.Ievenheardsomeofthewordshedidn’tsay.
IwalktothestorageroomandgrabmybagassoonasIhearhimwalkingupthebacksteps.Whenheopensthedoor,Ican’thelpbutwonderwhatthoughtsaregoingthroughhisheadwhenhiseyeslandonme.
Sincethemomentheofferedmethisjob,I’vebeenconvincedit’sbecausehehatesmeandwantsmetoleavetown,butRomanisright.Hecouldpaymeoffandsendmeonmywayifthat’sreallywhathewanted.
WhyamIstillhere?
AndwhyishewarningRomanaboutme,likemyintentionsaren’tgood?Ididn’taskforthisjob.Heofferedittome.ThathewouldthinkI’duseRomantogettomydaughterfeelslikeaslapintheface,ifthat’sevenwhathewasinsinuating.I’mnotsurewhathewasinsinuating,orifhewasjustbeingoddlyterritorialoverme.
“Youready?”Ledgerasks.Heflipsoffthelightsandholdsopenthebackdoorforme.AsIpasshim,there’sadifferentkindoftensionbetweenus.Itisn’tatensionnecessarilyrelatedtoDiemanymore.It’satensionthatseemstoexistsimplybecausewe’reineachother’spresence.
Asweheadtomyapartment,Ifeelshortofair.Iwanttorolldownthewindow,butifIdo,I’mworriedhe’llknowit’sbecauseIcan’tseemtobreatheproperlyinhispresence.
Iglanceathimacoupleoftimes,attemptingtobediscreet,butthere’sanewtightnesstohisjawthatisn’tusuallythere.IshethinkingabouteverythingRomansaidtohim?Isheupsetbecauseheagrees,orupsetbecauseRomanwascompletelyoffthemark?
“Didyougetservedwiththerestrainingorderthisweek?”heasks.
IclearmythroattomakeroomforthetinynoIspeakoutloud.“Igoogleditonmyphoneandreadthatitcantakeaboutonetotwoweeksforarestrainingorderrequesttoprocess.”
I’mlookingoutmywindowwhenLedgersays,“Yougotaphone?”
“Yeah.Afewdaysago.”
Hegrabshisownphoneandhandsittome.“Putinyourinfo.”
Idon’tlikehowbossythatseems.Idon’tgrabhisphone.Instead,Ilookatit,andthenathim.“WhatifIdon’twantyoutohavemynumber?”
Hepegsmewithhisstare.“I’myourboss.Ineedawaytocontactmyemployees.”
IhuffbecauseIhatethathemakesavalidpoint.IgrabhisphoneandtextmyselfsoI’llhavehisnumber,too,butwhenIsavemyinformation,IlistmyselfasNicoleratherthanKenna.Idon’tknowwhohasaccesstohisphone.Bettersafethansorry.
Isethisphonebackinhisphoneholderashepullsintomyparkinglot.
Heswingsopenhisdoorassoonashekillshistruck.Hegrabsthetable,andItrytohelphim,buthesays,“I’vegotit.Wheredoyouwantit?”
“Doyoumindtakingitupstairs?”
Heheadsthatway,andIgrabacoupleofchairs.BythetimeImakeittomystairwell,he’salreadyheadingbackdowntograbtherestofthechairs.Hestepstotheside,pressinghisbackagainsttherailingtomakeroomforme,butwhenIpasshim,Icansmellhim.Hesmellslikelimesandbaddecisions.
Thetableisproppedupnexttomyapartmentdoor.Iunlockmydoorandthensetthechairsnexttothewall.Ilookoutthewindow,andLedgerisgrabbingtherestofthechairsfromhistruck,soIglancearoundmyapartmenttoseeifanythingneedsrectifyingbeforehecomesbackup.There’sabraonthecouch,soIcoveritupwithapillow.
Ivyisatmyfeetmeowing,andInoticeherfoodandwaterbowlsareempty.I’mrefillingthemasLedgertapsonthedoorandthenopensit.Hebringsthechairsandthenthetableinside.
“Anythingelse?”heasks.
IsetIvy’swaterbowldowninthebathroom,andshegoesstraightforit.Iclosethedoorandshutherinthebathroomsoshedoesn’ttrytoescapethroughtheopenfrontdoor.“No.Thanksforthehelp.”IwalktothedoorsoIcanlockitafterLedgerleaves,buthejuststandsbyit,grippingthedoorhandle.
“Whattimedoyougetoffworkatthegrocerystoretomorrow?”
“Four.”
“OurT-ballgameshouldendaroundthen.Icangiveyouaride,butImightbealittlelate.”
“It’sokay.Icanwalk.Theweatherissupposedtobenice.”
Hesays,“Okay,”buthelingersinthedoorwayforanuncomfortablebeat.
ShouldItellhimIoverheardhim?
Iprobablyshould.Ifthere’sonethingspendingfiveyearswithoutalifetaughtme,it’sthatIdon’twanttowasteasinglesecondofthelifeIhaveleftbeingscaredofconfrontation.Mycowardiceisabigpartofwhymylifehasturnedoutthewayithas.
“Iwasn’ttryingtoeavesdrop,”Isay,wrappingmyarmsaroundmyself.“ButIheardyourconversationwithRoman.”
Ledger’seyesflickawayfrommyface,likethatmakeshimuncomfortable.
“Whydidyoutellhimtobecarefularoundme?”
Ledgerpresseshislipstogetherinthought.Histhroatslowlyrollswithhisswallow,buthestilldoesn’tsayanything.Hejustlookstornashisfacetakesonwhatlookslikeaworldofpain.Heleanshisheadagainstthedoorframeandlooksdownathisfeet.“WasIwrong?”Hisquestionisbarelyaboveawhisper,butitfeelslikeascreamechoinginsideofme.“WouldyounotdoanythingforDiem?”
Iblowoutafrustratedbreath.Thatfeelslikeatrickquestion.OfcourseI’ddoanythingforher,butnotattheexpenseofothers.Idon’tthink.“That’snotafairquestion.”
Helockseyeswithmeagain,andIcanfeelmypulsebeginningtopound.
“Romanismybestfriend,”hesays.“Nooffense,butIbarelyknowyou,Kenna.”
Hemightnotknowme,buthefeelsliketheonlypersonIknow.
“Istilldon’tknowifwhathappenedbetweenusthefirstnightyoushowedupatmybarwasauthentic,orifitwasallanacttogettoDiem.”
IrestmyheadagainstthewallandwatchLedger’sexpression.He’slookingatmewithpatience,andnotatallwithjudgment.It’slikehetrulydoeswanttoknowifthekisswesharedwasauthentic.It’salmostasifitmeantsomethingtohim.
Itwasauthentic,butitalsowasn’t.
“Ididn’tknowwhoyouwereuntilyousaidyourname,”Iadmit.“IwasliterallysittingonyourlapwhenIrealizedyouknewScotty.Seducingyouwasn’tpartofsomemasterplan.”
Hegivesmyanswertimetosinkin,andthenhenodsgently.“That’sgoodtoknow.”
“Isit?”Iflattenmybackagainstthewall.“Becauseitdoesn’tfeellikeitevenmatters.Youstilldon’twantmetomeetmydaughter.You’restillhopingIleavetown.”Noneofitmatters.
Ledgerdipshisheaduntiloureyesmeetagain.He’slookingatmepointedlywhenhesays,“ThereisnothinginthisworldthatwouldmakemehappierthanyougettingtomeetDiem.IfIknewhowtochangetheirminds,Iwoulddoitinaheartbeat,Kenna.”
Mybreathshakesuponrelease.HisconfessioniseverythingIneededtohear.IclosemyeyesbecauseIdon’twanttocryandIdon’twanttowatchhimleave,butuntilthismoment,Iwasn’tsureifheevenwantedmeinDiem’slife.
Ifeeltheheatofhisarmnexttomyhead,andIkeepmyeyesclosed,butI’msuckinginsmallgaspsofair.Icanhearhisbreaths,andthenIcanfeelthemonmycheek,andthenmyneck,asifhe’smovinginonme.
Ifeelsurroundedbyhiminthismoment,andI’mscaredifIopenmyeyes,I’llrealizeit’sallinmyheadandthatheactuallywalkedoutofmyopenapartmentdoor.Butthenheexhales,andthewarmthrollsdownmyneckandshoulder.Ibarelycrackopenmyeyestofindhimtoweringoverme,hishandsoneithersideofthewallbesidemyhead.
He’sjusthovering,likehecan’tdecidewhetherheshouldleaveorreenactourkissfromthenightwemet.Ormaybehe’sjustwaitingonmetomakesomekindofmove,ordecision,ormistake.
Idon’tknowwhatcompelsmetoliftmyhandandplaceitonhischest,butwhenIdo,hesighsasifthat’sexactlywhathewantedmetodo.ButIdon’tknowifI’mtouchinghischestbecauseIwanttopushhimaway,orbecauseIwanttopullhimcloser.
Eitherway,there’sawarmthbetweenusthatbuildswithhissigh,andherestshisforeheadlightlyagainstmine.
Therehavebeensomanychoicesandconsequencesandfeelingspackedintothespacewe’vekeptbetweenussincewemet,butLedgerpushesthroughallofitandpresseshislipstomine.
Heatpulsesthroughmelikeaheartbeat,andIsighintohismouth.Histongueskimsmytoplip,foggingmythoughts.Hecradlesmyheadanddeepensourkiss,andit’sintoxicating.HismouthiswarmerthanIrememberitbeingthefirsttimewekissed.Hishandsfeelmoregentle;histonguefeelslessdaring.
There’sacarefulnessinhiskiss—oneI’mtooafraidtodissectbecauseIalreadyfeelsomuchit’sdizzying.Thewarmthofhimenvelopsme,andjustwhenIstarttoclingtohim,hepullsaway.
Isuckinairwhilehestudiesmyface.It’sasifhe’stryingtogetareadonmyexpression,scanningmeforsignsofregretordesire.
I’msurehecanseeboth.Iwanthiskiss,butthethoughtofhavingtosaygoodbyetomorethanjusttheideaofDiemisenoughtostopmefromallowingthistohappen.BecausethecloserIgrowtoLedger,bothemotionallyandphysically,themoreI’dbeputtinghisrelationshipwithDiematrisk.
Asmuchashiskissmakesmefeel,it’snothingcomparedtotheheartachethatwouldfollowiftheLandrysfoundouthe’sseeingmebehindtheirbacks.Ican’thavethathangingovermyhead.
Hestartstoleaninagain,makingmyentirebodyfeelunstable,butIsomehowfindthestrengthtoshakemyhead.“Pleasedon’t,”Iwhisper.“Ithurtsenoughalready.”
Ledgerpausesrightbeforehismouthconnectswithmine.Hedrawsbackandliftshishand,gentlyglidinghisfingertipsovermyjaw.“Iknow.I’msorry.”
Webothfallquiet.Unmoving.IwishIwasprocessinghowtomakethisworkbetweenus,butI’mprocessinghowtonotletithurt,becauseitcan’twork.
Heeventuallypushesoffthewall,steppingawayfromme.“Ifeelsofucking…”Herunsahandthroughhishairashesearchesfortherightword.“Helpless.Useless.”Hewalksoutthedooraftersettlingonbothwords.“I’msorry,”Ihearhimmutterashewalksaway.
Iclosemydoor,lockit,andthenreleaseeverybreathI’veheldintonight.Myheartispounding.Theapartmentseemsreallywarmnow.
IturndownthethermostatandletIvyoutofthebathroom.Wecurluponthecouchtogether,andIgrabmynotebook.
DearScotty,
DoIoweyouanapologyforwhatjusthappened?
I’mnotquitesurewhatjusthappened.LedgerandIdefinitelyhadamoment,butwasitagoodone?Abadone?Itfeltmoresadthananything.
Whatifithappensagain?I’mnotsureI’mgoingtobestrongenoughtoaskhimnottotouchmeinallthewayswe’dprobablybetouchingeachotherrightnowifIdidn’tblurtoutthewords“Pleasedon’t.”
Butifweactonanythingwe’refeeling,he’seventuallygoingtohavetochoose.Andhewon’tchooseme.Iwouldn’tlethim,andI’dthinksomuchlessofhimifhedidn’tchooseDiem.
Andwhat’stocomeofmewhenthathappens?I’llnotonlylosemychancewithDiem,butI’llloseLedgertoo.
I’vealreadylostyouforgood.That’shardenough.
Howmanylossescanonepersontakebeforetheyjustthrowinthefuckingtowel,Scotty?BecauseitsureisstartingtofeellikeI’malloutofwins,here.
Love,
KennaCHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT
LEDGER
Diem’sarmsaretightaroundmyneckasIgiveherapiggybackrideacrosstheparkinglottowardGrace’scar.TheT-ballgamejustended,andDiemismakingmecarryherbecauseshesaidherlegsweresoakingsore
“Iwanttogotoworkwithyou,”shesays.
“Youcan’t.Kidsaren’tallowedinbars.”
“Igotoyourbarwithyousometimes.”
“Yeah,whenwe’reclosed,”Iclarify.“Thatdoesn’tcount.We’llbeopentonight,andit’sbusyandIwon’tbeabletokeepaneyeonyou.”Nottomention,hermotherwhoshedoesn’tevenknowexistswillbethere.“Youcancomeworkformewhenyouturneighteen.”
“That’salong,long,longtimeaway;you’llbedead.”
“Hey,now,”Gracesaysdefensively.“I’malotolderthanLedger,andIdon’tplanonbeingdeadwhenyou’reeighteen.”
IgetDiemsecuredintohercarseat.“HowoldwillIbewheneverybodydies?”sheasks.
“Nobodyknowswhenanyonewilldie,”Itellher.“Butifweallliveuntilwe’reold,we’llallbeoldtogether.”
“HowoldwillIbewhenyou’retwohundred?”
“Deadold,”Isay.
Hereyesgrowwide,andIimmediatelyshakemyhead.“We’llallbedead.Noonelivestobetwohundred.”
“Myteacheristwohundred.”
“Mrs.Bradshawisyoungerthanme,”Gracepipesupfromthefrontseat.“Stoptellinglies.”
Diemleansforwardandwhispers,“Mrs.Bradshawreallyistwohundred.”
“Ibelieveyou.”Ikissherontopofthehead.“Goodjobtoday.Loveyou.”
“Iloveyou,too;Iwanttogotoworkwith…”IcloseDiem’sdoorbeforeshefinisheshersentence.Idon’tnormallyrushthemoffthisway,butaswewerewalkingthroughtheparkinglot,IreceivedatextfromKenna.
Allitsaidwas,Pleasecomegetme.
It’snotquitefouryet.Shesaidshedidn’tneedaridewhenIaskedheryesterday,somyconcernwasimmediatelyheightenedwhenIgotthetext.
I’malreadytomytruckwhenGraceandDiemdriveaway.Patrickcouldn’tmakethegametodaybecausehe’sworkingonthejunglegym.IwasplanningongoinghomeforacoupleofhourstoseetheprogressandhelpbeforeIwenttothebar,butnowI’monmywaytothegrocerystoretocheckonKenna.
I’lltextPatrickwhenIgettheretolethimknowI’mnotstoppingby.We’realmostfinishedwiththejunglegym.Diem’sbirthdayiscomingup,whichmeanstodaywassupposedtobethebigday.Leah’sandmywedding.WeplannedongoingtoHawaiijustaweekafterthewedding,andIrememberbeingstressedthatwewouldn’tbebackforDiem’sbirthdayparty.
ThatwasanotherpointofcontentionbetweenLeahandme.Shedidn’tlikethatDiem’sfifthbirthdaywasalmostasbigadealtomeasourhoneymoon.
I’msurePatrickandGracewouldhavebeenwillingtomovethebirthdayparty,butLeahactedlikeDiem’sfifthbirthdaywasamajorconflictwithourhoneymoonbeforesheeveninquiredaboutthemmovingtheparty,andthatendedupbecomingoneofthefirstofmanyredflags.
IgaveLeahthetriptoHawaiiafterourbreakup.Ihadalreadypaidforit,butI’mnotsureifshe’sstillgoing.Hopefullysheis,butit’sbeenthreemonthssincewe’veevenspoken.IfeellikeIhavenocluewhat’sgoingoninherlifenow.NotthatIwanttoknow.It’sstrange,beinginvolvedineveryfacetofanotherhumanbeing,andthensuddenlynotknowinganything.
It’salsostrangethinkingyouknowsomeonebutthenlaterrealizingmaybeyoudidn’tknowthematall.IfeelthatwithLeah,andI’mstartingtofeelthataboutKenna,butintheoppositeway.WithKenna,IfeellikeIjudgedhertoopoorlyinthebeginning.WithLeah,IfeellikeIjudgedhertoofavorably.
IprobablyshouldhavetextedKennatoletherknowIwasonmyway,becauseIspotherwalkingaloneonthesideoftheroadaboutaquarterofamileawayfromthestore.Herheadisdown,andshe’sgotbothhandsgrippingthestrapofhertotebagonhershoulder.Ipulloverontheoppositesideoftheroad,butshedoesn’tevennoticemytruck,soItaponthehorn.Itgetsherattention.Shelooksbothwaysandthencrossestheroadandclimbsintomytruck.
Aheavysighemanatesfromherwhensheclosesherdoor.Shesmellslikeapples,justlikeshesmelledlastnightinthedoorwayofherapartment.
Icouldfuckingpunchmyselfforlastnight.
Shedropsherbagbetweenusandpullsanenvelopeoutofit.Sheshovesitatme.“Igotit.Therestrainingorder.IwasservedasIwaswalkingoutofthestoretoputgroceriesintosomeone’scar.Itwasmortifying,Ledger.”
Ireadovertheforms,andI’mconfusedabouthowajudgeevengrantedit,butwhenIseeGrady’sname,itallmakessense.HeprobablyvouchedforPatrickandGraceandmighthaveevenembellishedthetruthalittlebit.He’sthattype.Ibethiswifeislovingthis.I’msurprisedshedidn’tbringitupattheballfieldtoday.
Ifolditbackupandstickitinherpurse.“Itdoesn’tmeananything,”Isay,attemptingtocomfortherwithmylie.
“Itmeanseverything.It’samessage.Theywantmetoknowtheyaren’tchangingtheirminds.”Shepullsonherseatbelt.Hereyesandcheeksarered,butsheisn’tcrying.Itlookslikeshe’sprobablycrieditoutalready,andIgottoherintheaftermath.
Ipullbackontotheroadfeelingheavy.WhatIsaidlastnightaboutfeelinguseless—it’sthemostaccuratetermforwhatIamrightnow.Ican’thelpKenna,otherthanhowI’malreadyhelpingher.
PatrickandGracearen’tchangingtheirminds,andanytimeItrytoapproachthesubjectwiththem,they’reimmediatelydefensive.It’sdifficult,becauseIagreewithwhytheydon’twantKennaaround,butIalsovehementlydisagree.
TheywouldcutmeoutofDiem’slifebeforetheywouldagreetoaddKennaintoit.That’swhatscaresmethemost.IfIpushthesubjecttoomuch,oriftheyfindoutI’mevenremotelyonKenna’sside,I’mafraidthey’llstartviewingmeasathreat,thesamewaytheyviewKenna.
Theworstpartis,Idon’tblamethemforhowtheyfeelaboutKenna.Theimpactofherchoiceshasbeendetrimentaltotheirlives.Buttheimpactoftheirchoicesisbecomingdetrimentaltoherlife.
Fuck.There’snogoodanswer.I’vesomehowimmersedmyselfinthedepthsofanimpossiblesituation.Onethatdoesn’tleaveasinglesolutionthatwon’tleadtoatleastonepersonsuffering.
“Doyouwanttotakethenightoffwork?”Icompletelyunderstandifshedoesn’tfeeluptoit,butsheshakesherhead.
“Ineedthehours.I’llbefine.Itwasjustembarrassing,eventhoughIknewitwascoming.”
“Yeah,butIfiguredGradywouldhavethedecencytoserveyouathome.It’snotlikeyourhomeaddressisn’tatthetopoftheorder.”Iturnrightatthenextlighttogettothebar,butsomethingtellsmeKennamightneedanhourorsobeforeshemovesfromoneshifttothenext.“Youwantasnowcone?”
I’mnotsureifthat’sastupidresolutiontoanissuethisserious,butsnowconesarealwaystheanswerformeandDiem.
Kennanods,andIthinkImightevenseeahintofasmile.“Yeah.Asnowconesoundsperfect.”CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE
KENNA
I’mleaningmyheadagainstthepassengerwindowofhistruck,watchinghimstrideuptothesnowconestandwithhistattoosandhissexappealtoordertworainbowsnowcones.Whydoeshehavetodonicethingsthatmakehimsoattractive?
IcamehereoncewithScotty,butScottydidn’tlookoutofplaceorderingsnowcones.Wesatatapicnictablethatusedtobetotheleftofthesnowconestand,butit’saparkinglotnow,andthepicnictableisnowheretobeseen.Alltheseatingareashavebeenreplacedbyplastictableswithpinkumbrellas.
IonlytextedLedgerandaskedforaridebecauseofAmy.
Shefoundmeinthebathroomabouttohaveapanicattackandaskedwhatwaswrong.Icouldn’tbeartotellhersomeonehadfiledarestrainingorderagainstme.Instead,Ijusttoldherthetruth.ThatIsometimeshavepanicattacks,butthatitwouldpass,andIwassorry,andthenIpatheticallybeggedhernottofireme.
Shelookedsosadforme,butshealsolaughed.“WhywouldIfireyou?You’retheonlyworkerIhavewhoactuallywantstoworkdoubleshifts.Soyouhadapanicattack,bigdeal.”Shetalkedmeintofindingaridehomebecauseshedidn’ttrustmetohavetowalkallthatway.Ididn’twanttotellherLedgeristheonlypersonIknowintown,soItextedhim,moretoreassureherthatIwouldn’tbealone.Itfeltgoodtobeworriedaboutbysomeone.
There’salotIknowIneedtobegratefulfor,andAmyisoneofthosethings.It’sjustreallyhardtobegratefulwhenthere’sonlyonethingIwantinmylife,andIfeellikeI’mjustgettingfurtherandfurtherfromthat.
Ledgerreturnstothetruckwithoursnowcones.Therearesprinklesonmine,andIknowthat’sasmallthing,butImakenoteofit.MaybeifIacknowledgeallthegoodthings,nomatterhowsmall,they’lladduptomakethebadthinginmylifelesspainful.
“DoyoueverbringDiemhere?”Iaskhim.
Heuseshisspoontopointdownthestreet.“Thedancestudioisaboutablockthatway,”hesays.“IdropheroffandGracepicksherup.She’shardtosaynoto,soI’maregularhere.”Hestickshisspooninhismouthandthenopenshiswalletandpullsoutabusinesscard.Therearetinylittlesnowconeshole-punchedaroundit.“Closetogettingafreeone,”hesays,tuckingitbackinhiswallet.
Itmakesmelaugh.“Impressive.”IwishIwouldhavegoneuptoorderwithhimjustsoIcouldseehimhandinhissnowconepunchcard.
“Bananaandlemonade.”Helooksoveratmeaftertakingabite.“That’sherfavoritecombination.”
Ismile.“Isyellowherfavoritecolor?”
Henods.
Istickmyspoonintotheyellowpartofmysnowconeanddigoutabite.TheselittletidbitshegivesmearesomethingelseI’mappreciativeof.They’retinypartsofthewhole,andmaybeifhegivesmeenoughofthem,itwon’thurtasbadwhenIhavetoleave.
Itrytothinkaboutsomethingtotalkaboutthatisn’tDiem.“Whatdoesthehouseyou’rebuildinglooklike?”
Ledgerpicksuphisphoneandchecksthetime,andthenputshistruckinreverse.“I’lltakeyoutoseeit.RaziandRomancancoverusforawhile.”
Itakeanotherbiteanddon’tsayanything,butIdon’tthinkherealizeswhathiswillingnesstoshowmehisnewhousemeanstome.
TheLandrysmighthavefiledarestrainingorderagainstme,butatleastLedgertrustsme.
Ihavethattoclingto,andIclingtoithard.
Oncewe’reatleastfifteenmilesoutsideoftown,weturnintoanareawithabigwoodenentrywaythatsaysCheshireRidge,andthenwebegintomakeourwayupawindingroad.Thetreescovertheroadlikethey’rehuggingit.Thesidesoftheroadaredottedwithmailboxeseveryquartertohalfamile.
Noneofthehousescanbeseenfromtheroad.Themailboxesaretheonlycluesthatpeopleevenliveouthere,becausethetreesaresodense.It’speacefulandsecluded.Icanseewhyhechosethisarea.
Wecometoapieceofpropertythat’ssothickwithtreesyoucan’tevenseemostofthedrivewayfromtheroad.There’sastakeinthegroundwhereIassumethemailboxwilleventuallygo.Therearecolumnsthatlooklikethey’llendupbeingaprivacygatesomeday.
“Doyouhavecloseneighborsouthere?”
Heshakeshishead.“Notforahalfmile,atleast.Thepropertyisonaten-acretract.”
Wepullontotheproperty,andeventually,ahousebeginstotakeshapethroughthetrees.Itisn’twhatIexpected.Thishouseisn’tyouraveragelargemanor-stylehomewithapeakedroof.It’sspreadoutandflatandunique,builtofsomekindofmaterialIdon’trecognize.
Ididn’tpegLedgertowantsomethingsomodernandunusual.Idon’tknowwhyIpicturedalogcabinorsomethingmoretraditional.MaybebecausehementionedheandRomanwerebuildingit,andIjustexpectedittobealittleless…complicated.
Wegetoutofthetruck,andItrytoimagineDiemouthere,runningaroundthisyard,playingonthepatio,roastingmarshmallowsinthefirepitoutonthebackdeck.
Ledgershowsmearound,butIcan’tgraspthistypeoflifestyle,notevenformydaughter.ThecountertopsintheoutdoorkitchenthatoverlookthebackyardareprobablyworthmorethaneverythingI’veeverownedinmyentirelifeaddedup.
Therearethreebedrooms,butthemainbedroomisthehighlightforme,witharidiculousclosetalmostasbigasthebedroomitself.
IadmirethehouseandlistentohimtalkexcitedlyabouteverythingheandRomanhavedonebyhand,andwhileitisimpressive,it’salsodepressing.
Thisisahousemydaughterwillspendtimein,whichmeansit’slikelyahouseI’llneverreturntoagain.AsmuchasIenjoywatchinghimshowoffhisspace,Ialsodon’twanttoseeitnowthatI’mhere.
Andtobehonest,itkindofmakesmesadtoknowthathewon’tbelivingacrossfromDiem.I’mstartingtoreallylikehimasaperson,andknowinghe’saconstantinherlifeiscomforting.Buthewon’tbeacrossthestreetfromherwhenhemovesouthere,anditmakesmewonderifthat’sgoingtomakehersad.
Thebackdoortothehugepatiooverlookingrollinghillsopensuplikeanaccordion.Hepushesittooneside,andIwalkoutontothebackdeck.Thesunisabouttoset,andit’sprobablyoneofthebestviewsofthesunsetinthisentiretown.Itlightsupthetopsofthetreesbelowusandmakesthemlooklikethey’reonfire.
Thereisn’tanypatiofurnitureyet,soIsitdownonthestepsandLedgertakesaseatnexttome.Ihaven’tsaidmuch,buthedoesn’tneedthecompliments.Heknowshowbeautifulthisplaceis.Ican’timaginewhatit’scostinghimtobuild.
“Areyourich?”Itjustcomesout.IrubmyfaceafterIaskitandsay,“Sorry.Thatwasrude.”
Helaughsandrestshiselbowsonhisknees.“It’sokay.Thehouseischeaperthanitlooks.RomanandIhavedonemostoftheworkbyhandoverthelastcoupleofyears,butImadegoodinvestmentswiththemoneyIgotfrommyfootballcontract.It’smostlygonenow,butIgotabusinessoutofit,andnowahome.Can’tcomplain.”
I’mhappyforhim.Atleastlifeworksoutforsomepeople.
Weallhaveourfailures,though,Isuppose.I’mcuriouswhatLedger’sfailuresare.“Wait,”Isay,rememberingatleastonethingthatdidn’tquiteworkoutforhim.“Weren’tyousupposedtogetmarriedthisweekend?”
Ledgernods.“Twohoursago,actually.”
“Areyousadaboutit?”
“Ofcourse,”hesays.“Idon’tregretthedecision,butIamsaditdidn’tworkout.Iloveher.”
Hesaidlove,asinpresenttense.Iwaitforhimtocorrecthimself,buthedoesn’t,andthenIrealizethatwasn’tamistake.Helovesherstill.Iguessrealizingyourlifeisn’tcompatiblewithsomeoneelse’sdoesn’terasethefeelingsthatarethere.
There’satinyflameofjealousysuddenlyflickeringinmychest.“Howdidyouproposetoher?”
“Dowereallyhavetotalkaboutthis?”He’slaughing,likethesubjectismoreawkwardthansad.
“Yes.I’mnosy.”
Heexhalesandthensays,“Iaskedherdadforpermissionfirst.AndthenIboughthertheringshe’dbeennotsosubtleaboutwanting.Itookhertodinneronoursecondanniversaryandhadthisbigproposalplannedintheparkdownthestreetfromtherestaurant.Herfriendsandfamilyweretherewaiting,andthenIgotdownononekneeandproposed.ItwasyourtypicalInstagram-worthyengagement.”
“Didyoucry?”
“No.Iwastoonervous.”
“Didshe?”
Hecockshisheadlikehe’stryingtothinkback.“Idon’tthinkso.Maybeatearortwo?Itwasdark,whichIdidn’ttakeintoconsideration,sothefootageoftheproposalcameoutkindofshitty.Shecomplainedaboutthatthenextday.Thatshewouldn’thavegoodvideoandIshouldhaveproposedbeforethesunset.”
“Shesoundsfun.”
Ledgersmiles.“Honestly,you’dprobablylikeher.Ikeepsayingthingsthatmakehersoundbad,butwehadalotoffuntogether.Whenweweretogether,Ididn’tthinkaboutScottyasmuch.Thingsfeltlightwithherbecauseofthat.”
Ilookawaywhenhesaysthat.“DoIonlyremindyouofhim?”
Ledgersaysnothinginresponsetomyquestion.Hedoesn’twanttohurtmyfeelings,sohejustchoosesnottoanswer,buthissilencemakesmefeellikeIwanttoflee.IstarttostandupbecauseI’mreadytoleave,butassoonasIbegintostand,hegrabsmywristandgentlypullsmebackdown.
“Sit.Let’sstayuntilthesunsets.”
Isitbackdown,andittakesabouttenminutesforthesuntosinkdownintothetrees.Neitherofustalks.Wejustwatchtheraysdisappear,andthetipsofthetreesreturntotheirnatural,firelesscolors.It’sdusknow,andwithoutelectricity,thehousebehindusisquicklygrowingdark.
Ledgerhasacontemplativelookabouthimwhenhesays,“Ifeelguilty.”
Welcometomyconstantstate.“Why?”
“Forbuildingthishouse.IfeellikeScottywouldbedisappointedinme.DiemgetssosadeverytimewebringupthefactthatI’mputtingmyotherhouseupforsale.”
“Whydidyoubuildthishouse,then?”
“It’sbeenmydreamforalongtimenow.IboughtthelandandstarteddraftingthedesignbackwhenDiemwasjustababy.BeforeIknewhowmuchIwouldloveher.”Hecutshiseyestomine.“Don’tgetmewrong,Ilovedherthen,butitwasdifferent.Shestartedtowalkandtalk,anddevelopheruniquepersonality,andwebecameinseparable.Andovertime,thisplacestartedtofeellesslikemyfuturehomeandmorelike…”Hetriestocomeupwiththeword,buthecan’t.
“Aprison?”
LedgerlooksatmelikeI’mthefirstpersontounderstandhim.“Yes.Exactly.IfeellikeI’mlockedintoitnow,buttheideaofnotseeingDiemeverydayisreallystartingtoweighonme.It’llchangeourrelationship.Withmyschedule,I’llprobablyseeheronceaweekifI’mlucky.Ithinkthat’swhyI’vebeentakingmytimebuildingit.Idon’tknowthatI’mreallylookingforwardtomovingouthere.”
“Thensellit.”
Helaughs,likethat’sanabsurdidea.
“I’mserious.I’dmuchratheryouliveacrossthestreetfrommydaughterthanclearacrosstown.IknowIcan’tbeinherlifelikeIwishIcould,butthere’ssomecomfortinknowingyouare.”
LedgerstaresatmeforalongbeatafterIsaythat.Thenhestandsupandreachesoutformyhand.“Weshouldgettowork.”
“Yeah.Don’twanttopissofftheboss.”Igrabhishandandstandup,andwhenIdo,I’msuddenlywaytooclosetohim.Hedoesn’tbackawayorletgoofmyhand,andnowhe’slookingatmefromjustafewinchesawaywithanintensityIfeelslidedownmyspine.
Ledgerthreadshisfingersthroughmine,andwhenourpalmstouch,thefeelingthatsurgesthroughmemakesmewince.Ledgerfeelsit,too;Icanseeitinthewayhiseyesfillwithtorment.
Funnyhowsomethingthatshouldfeelsogoodcanfeelsopainfulwhenthecircumstancesaren’tright.Andourcircumstancesaredefinitelynotright.ButIsqueezehishandanyway,lettinghimknowI’mfeelingexactlywhathe’sfeeling,andI’mjustastornasheis.
Ledgerdropshisforeheadtomine,andwebothcloseoureyesandjustsilentlybreathethroughwhateverthismomentis.Icanfeeleverythinghe’snotsaying.Icanevensomehowfeelthekisshe’snotevengivingme.Butifweslipbackintothemomentwesharedlastnight,itwouldripthatwoundopenevenwider,untilthat’sallIam.
HeknowsjustasmuchasIdothatthisisn’tagoodidea.
“Whatareyougonnado,Ledger?Hidemeinyourclosetuntilshe’seighteen?”
Helooksdownatourhandsstilllinkedtogetherandshrugs.“It’sahugecloset.”
There’sonlyabeatofsilencebeforeit’sslicedintwobymylaughter.
Hegrinsandthenleadsthewaythroughhisdarkhouseandbacktohistruck.CHAPTERTHIRTY
LEDGER
I’minmyofficeprocessingpayroll,processingmythoughts,processingallthemistakesI’vemadeinthelastfewweeks.
RomanwasrightwhenhesaidIcouldhavepaidheroffifIreallywantedhertoleave.MaybeIshouldhave,becausethemoreI’maroundher,themorefalsehopeI’mgivingher.
TheLandryswon’tcomearoundtotheideaofacceptingheranytimesoon.Andifshestayshereandcontinuestowork,it’sputtingusbothatriskofgettingcaught.
Idon’tknowwhatIwasthinkinghiringherinthefirstplace.Ithoughtshecouldhideoutintheback,butKennaisn’tthekindofgirlyoucanhide.Shestandsout.Someonewillnoticeher.Someonewillrecognizeher.
Andthenwe’llbothfeeltheconsequencesofthislie.
ItakeoutmyphoneandtextKenna.Cometomyofficewhenyouhaveasecond.
Istandupandpacefortheentirethirtysecondsittakeshertomakeherwaybacktomyoffice.Iclosethedoorbehindherandthenwalkovertomydeskandsitontheedgeofit.
Shestandsnearthedoor,andherarmsarefolded.Shelooksnervous.Idon’tmeantomakehernervous.Ipointtothechairinfrontofme,andshewalkshesitantlytowarditandthensits.
“IfeellikeI’mintrouble,”shesays.
“Youaren’tintrouble.Ijust…I’vebeenthinking.AboutwhatyouoverheardRomansay.AndIfeellikeIshouldletyouknowthatyoudon’thavetocometoworkanymore.”
Shelookssurprised.“AmIbeingfired?”
“No.Ofcoursenot.”IinhaleabreathinpreparationforthehonestyI’mabouttospill.“WebothknowIhiredyouforselfishreasons,Kenna.Ifyouevergettothepointwhereyouwanttoleavetownandyouneedmoney,allyouhavetodoisask.Youdon’thavetoworkforit.”
She’slookingatmelikeI’vejustpunchedherinthegut.Shestandsupandstartspacingwhilesheprocessesthisconversation.“Doyouwantmetoleavetown?”
Fuck.Ibroughtherinheretotrytomakeherlifeeasier,butI’msayingeverythingwrong.Ishakemyhead.“No.”Ireachoutandencircleherwristwithmyfingerstostopherfrompacing.
“Thenwhyareyoutellingmethis?”
Icouldgiveherseveralreasons.Becauseyouneedtoknowyouhaveoptions.Becauseifyoustayhere,someonewilleventuallyrecognizeyou.Becauseifwekeepworkingtogether,we’llshatterwhateverisleftofourflimsyboundary.
Idon’tsayanyofthosethings,though.IjustlookatherpointedlywhileIrunmythumbacrossherwrist.“Youknowwhy.”
Herchestrisesandfallswithhersigh.
Butthenshejerksherhandfrommineatthesuddenknockonmyofficedoor.Iimmediatelystandupstraight,andKennafoldsherarmsoverherchest.Ourreactionsmakeuslookreallyguiltyrightnow.
MaryAnneisstandinginthedoorwaylookingbackandforthbetweenus.Shegrinsandsays,“WhatdidIjustinterrupt?Anemployeeevaluation?”
Iwalkaroundmydeskandpretendtobeoccupiedbymycomputerscreen.“Whatdoyouneed,MaryAnne?”
“Well.Thissuddenlyfeelslikethewrongmomenttomentionthis,butLeah’shere.Thewomanyouweresupposedtomarrytoday?She’soutfrontaskingforyou.”
IttakeseverythinginmenottolookatKennatoseehowshereactedtothat.SomehowImanagetostayfocusedonMaryAnne.“TellherI’llberightout.”
MaryAnnebacksawayfromthedoor,butsheleavesitopen.Kennaimmediatelyfollowsheroutwithoutlookingbackatme.
I’mconfused,becausewhywouldLeahbehere?Whatcouldshepossiblywant?IsshehavingmoreofareactiontowhattodaywassupposedtobethanIam?
BecauseI’vehardlythoughtaboutit.Ithinkthatprovesitwastherightdecision.Forme,atleast.
Iwalkoutofmyoffice,butIhavetopassbyKennaonmywaytothefront.Wemaketwosecondsofeyecontactbeforeshelooksaway.
Iexitthekitchenandlookaroundtheroom,butIdon’timmediatelyspotLeah.It’salotmorecrowdednowthanwhenIwenttomyofficetodopayroll,soIglancearoundforamomentbeforemakingmywaybehindthebar.MaryAnneisattheotherendoftheroom,soIcan’taskherwhereLeahwent.
Romanseesmeandpointsatagroupofguys.“Ihaven’ttakentheirorderyet.”
“Where’sLeah?”
Romanlooksconfused.“Leah?What?”
MaryAnneiswalkingtowardme.Shegrinsandleansoverthebarwhenshereachesme.“Romanwasgettingswamped,soheaskedmetograbyou.IwaskiddingaboutLeah.Iwasjusttryingtobuildsomeangstforyoubecausegirlsloveangst.You’rewelcome.”Shepicksupatrayfullofdrinksandglidesovertoatabletodeliverthem.
Ishakemyheadinconfusion.I’mirritatedshelied,becausenowKenna’smindisprobablygoinginathousanddifferentdirections.ButI’malsorelievedshelied.Ididn’twanttoseeLeah.
Istayandtakeafewordersandcloseoutthreetabs,butassoonasRomaniscaughtup,Iheadtotheback.Kennaisn’tinthekitchen.Ilookaroundforher,butAaronmotionstowardthebackdoortoletmeknowshe’sonbreak.
WhenIpushopenthedoortothealley,IfindKennaleaningagainstthebuildingwithherarmsfoldedoverherchest.ShelooksupatmeassoonasIwalkoutside,andIcanseetheimmediatereliefwashoverher.
Shewasjealous.Shetriestohideitbyforcingasmile,butIsawthelookonherfacebeforesheshoveditaway.
Iwalkovertoherandmimicherpositionagainstthewall.“MaryAnnewaslying.Leahwasn’there;shemadethatup.”
Shenarrowshereyesinconfusion.“Whywouldshe…”Kennastopstalking,andasmallsmilespreadsacrossherlips.“Wow.MaryAnneismessy.”Shedoesn’tseemangrythatMaryAnnelied.Sheappearsimpressed.
Hersmilemakesmesmile,andthenIsay,“Youwerejealous.”
Kennarollshereyes.“Iwasnot.”
“Youwere.”
Shepushesoffthewallandheadsforthestairs,butshepausesrightinfrontofme.Shefacesme,andIcan’ttellwhatherexpressionmeans.
Idon’tknowwhatshe’sabouttodo,butifshetriedtokissme,itwouldmakemyfuckingnight.I’mtiredoftheback-and-forthwithher.I’mtiredofhidingher.I’dgiveanythingtobeabletogettoknowherbetterwithoutworryingaboutconsequences,tobeabletoaskherquestionsthathavenothingtodowithScottyortheLandrys.Iwanttoopenlykissher,Iwanttotakeherhomewithme,Iwanttoknowwhatit’sliketofallasleepnexttoherandwakeupnexttoher.
Ifuckinglikeher,andthemoreI’maroundher,themoreIdon’twanttobeapartfromher.
“I’mputtinginmytwo-weeknotice,”shesays.
Shit.IchewonmylipuntilI’mpositiveIwon’tdroptomykneesandbeghertostay.“Why?”
Shehesitatesandthensays,“Youknowwhy.”
Shedisappearsbackinsidethebuilding,andIsitinmyfuckingfeelings.
IstareatmytruckwithanintenseurgetodrivestraighttoPatrickandGrace’shouseandtellthemallaboutKenna.Iwanttotellthemhowselflesssheis.Iwanttotellthemwhatahardworkersheis.Iwanttotellthemhowforgivingsheis,becauseeverysingleoneofushasbeenmakingherlifealivinghell,yetshesomehowdoesn’tseemtoresentusforit.
IwanttotellPatrickandGraceeverywonderfulthingaboutKenna,butevenmorethanthat,IwanttotellKennahowwrongIwaswhenItoldherDiemwouldn’tbenefitfromhavingherinherlife.
WhoamItosaythattoamotheraboutherownchild?
WhothefuckamItomakethatkindofjudgment?CHAPTERTHIRTY-ONE
KENNA
Itstartsrainingonourdrivehome.Therainhittingthewindshieldistheonlysoundrightnow,becauseneitherofusisspeaking.Wehaven’tsaidawordtoeachothersincewewereinthealleyearliertonight.
Iwonderifhe’smadthatIputinmynotice.Idon’tknowwhyhewouldbe;he’stheonewhobroughtitup.Buthe’ssoquietit’smakingthingsuncomfortable.
Ican’tcontinuetoworkforhim,though.Howdoweplanformypotentialdeparturewhenwe’restartingtocraveeachother’scompany?Ithoughtthiswasmessybefore,butit’sboundtogetevenmessierifIletitcontinue.
There’sanunresolvedenergymovingbetweenusinthetruckwhenhepullsintotheparkinglot.Sometimeswhenhedropsmeoff,hedoesn’teventurnofftheengineofhistruck.Buttonighthedoes,andheremovesthekeys,andhisseatbelt,andhegrabsanumbrellaandgetsoutofthetruck.
Itonlytakeshimafewsecondstomakeittothepassengerside,butinthatfewseconds,I’vedecidedIdon’twanthimtowalkmeup.Icanwalkmyselfup.It’sbetterthatway.Idon’ttrustmyselfwithhim.
HeopensmydoorandIreachfortheumbrella,buthepullsitback.
“Whatareyoudoing?”heasks.
“Givemetheumbrella.Icanwalkmyselfup.”
HetakesastepbacksoIcangetoutofhistruck.“No.I’mwalkingyouup.”
“Idon’tknowifyoushould.”
“Idefinitelyshouldn’t,”hesays.Buthekeepswalking.Keepsholdingtheumbrellaovermyhead.
Mybreathsstarttocatchinmychestbeforeweevenreachthetopofthestairs.Ifishmykeysoutofmypurse,unsureifhe’sexpectingtocomeinsideorifhejustplanstotellmegoodnight.Eitherchoicemakesmenervous.Eitheroneistoomuch.Eitheronewilldo.
Heclosestheumbrellawhenwereachmydoorandwaitsformetounlockit.BeforeIopenit,Iturntofacehimasifhe’sgoingtoletmesaygoodnightwithoutinvitinghiminside.
Hepointsatmydoorbutsaysnothing.
Iquietlyinhaleandthenpushopenthedoortomyapartment.Hefollowsmeinsideandclosesthedoorbehindhim.
He’sactingsoassuredrightnow.ThecompleteoppositeofwhatI’mfeeling.IscoopIvyupandtakehertothebathroomsoshecan’tgetoutincaseLedgeropensthedoortoleave.
WhenIclosethebathroomdoorandturnaround,Ledgerisstandingatthecounter,runningafingeracrossthestackoflettersIprintedout.
Idon’twanthimtoreadthem,soIwalkoverandflipthemoverandshovethemaside.
“Arethosetheletters?”heasks.
“Mostofthem.ButIhavedigitalcopiestoo.ItypedthemallupacoupleofmonthsagoandputthemintoGoogleDrive.Iwasafraidtolosethem.”
“Willyoureadoneofthemtome?”
Ishakemyhead.Thoselettersarepersonaltome.Thisisthesecondtimehe’saskedifI’dreadone,andtheanswerisstillno.“Youaskingmetoreadyouoneofthoseletterswouldbelikemeaskingyoutoplayatapeofoneofyourtherapysessions.”
“Idon’tgototherapy,”Ledgersays.
“Maybeyoushould.”
Hechewshislipwithacontemplativenod.“MaybeIwill.”
Iwalkaroundhimandopentherefrigerator.I’veslowlybeenstockingit,soIactuallyhavemorethanLunchablesthistime.“Youwantsomethingtodrink?Ihavewater,tea,milk.”Igrabanalmost-emptycontainerofjuice.“Aswigofapplejuice.”
“I’mnotthirsty.”
I’mnot,either,butIdrinktherestoftheapplejuicestraightfromthecontainerasapreventivemeasure,becauseIfeellikeI’mabouttobeparchedwithhimstandinginmyapartmentlikethis.Justhispresencehereisenoughtomakemythroatrundry.
It’sdifferentwhenwe’reatwork.Thereareotherpeoplearoundtokeepmymindfrommovinginthedirectionit’smovingrightnow.
Butwhenit’sjustthetwoofusaloneinmyapartment,allIcanthinkaboutisourproximitytooneanotherandhowmanyheartbeatswillpassinthetimeittakeshimtoclosethegapandkissme.
Isettheemptycontainerofapplejuiceonthebarandwipemymouth.
“Isthatwhyyoualwaystastelikeapples?”
Ilookrightathimwhenhesaysthat.It’sanintimatethingtosay.Admittingoutloudthatyouknowwhatsomeoneelsetasteslike.Ifeellikeadazzled,inexperiencedteenagerunderhisgaze,soIlookdownatmyfeetbecausenotlookingathimislessdraining.
“Whatdoyouwant,Ledger?”
Hecalmlyleansagainstthecounter.We’rejustacoupleoffeetapartwhenhesays,“Iwanttogettoknowyoubetter.”
Iwasn’texpectinghimtosaythat,soofcourseIlookoverathimandthenimmediatelyregretitbecausehe’sstandingsoclosetome.“Whatdoyouwanttoknow?”
“Moreaboutyou.Yourlikes,yourdislikes,yourgoals.Whatdoyouwanttodowithyourlife?”
Ican’thelpbutlaugh.IexpectedhimtoaskaboutScotty,orsomethingrelatedtoDiem,ormycurrentsituation.Buthe’sjustmakingcasualconversation,andIhavenoideawhattodowithit.“I’vealwayswantedtobealocksmith.”
ThatmakesLedgerlaugh.“Alocksmith?”
Inod.
“Whyalocksmith?”
“Becausenoonecanbemadatalocksmith.Theyshowuptohelpwhenpeopleareinacrisis.Ithinkitwouldbearewardingjobtomakepeople’sshittydaysalittlebitbetter.”
Ledgernodsappreciatively.“Ican’tsayI’veevermetanyonewhowantedtobealocksmith.”
“Well.Nowyouhave.Nextquestion.”
“WhydidyouchoosethenameDiem?”
Iturnhisquestionaroundonhimbeforeansweringit.“WhydidtheLandryschoosenottochangethenameIgaveher?”
Heworkshisjawbackandforth.“TheywereworriedthatmaybeyouandScottyhaddiscussedwhattonameher,andDiemwasanameScottychose.”
“ScottyneverevenknewIwaspregnant.”
“Didyouknowyouwerepregnant?”heasks.“BeforeScottydied?”
Ishakemyhead.MyvoiceisawhisperwhenIsay,“No.IneverwouldhavepleadedguiltyifIknewIwaspregnantwithDiem.”
Heconcentratesonthatreply.“Whydidyoupleadguilty?”
Ihugmyself.Myeyesstarttosting,soItakeamomenttobreathethroughthememorybeforeansweringhim.“Iwasn’tinagoodheadspace,”Iadmit.Idon’telaborate,though.Ican’t.
Ledgerdoesn’tcomebackwithanotherquestionrightaway.Heletssilencefilltheroom,andthenheemptiesitbysaying,“WherewouldweberightnowifIdidn’tknowScotty?”
“Whatdoyoumean?”
Hiseyesfallbrieflytomymouth.It’saflickerofagaze,butIseeit.Ifeelit.“Thenightwemetatthebar.Yousaidyoudidn’tknowwhoIwas.WhatifIwasjustsomerandomguywhodidn’tknowDiemorScottyoryou?Whatdoyouthinkwouldhavehappenedbetweenusthatnight?”
“Alotmorethanwhatdidhappen,”Iadmit.
Herollshisthroatasifheswallowedthatanswer.HestaresatmeandIstareback,waitinganxiouslyforhisnextquestionorthoughtormove.
“Isometimeswonderifwe’devenbetalkingrightnowifIdidn’tknowDiem.”
“Whydoesitmatter?”Iask.
“Becauseitwouldbethedifferencebetweenyouwantingtobewithmeforme,orwantingtobewithmesoyoucouldusemeformyconnections.”
Myjawtenses.Ihavetobreakourgazeandlookatsomethingbesideshim,becausethatcommentmakesmeangry.“IfIwantedtouseyouforyourconnections,I’dhavefuckedyoubynow.”Ipushoffthecounter.“Youshouldgo.”Istarttowalktowardthedoor,butLedgergrabsmywristandpullsmeback.
Ispinaround,butbeforeIcanyellathim,Iseethelookinhiseye.It’sapologetic.Sad.Hepullsmetohischestandwrapshisarmsaroundmeinacomfortingembrace.I’mstiffagainsthim,unsureofwhattodowithmylingeringanger.Heslideshishandstomyarmsandliftsthem,wrappingthemaroundhiswaist.
“Iwasn’tinsultingyou,”hesays,hisbreathgrazingmycheek.“Iwasjustworkingthroughsomethoughtsoutloud.”Hepressesthesideofhisheadtomine,andIsqueezemyeyesshutbecausehefeelssogood.Iforgotwhatitfeltlikeforsomeoneelsetoneedme.Wantme.Likeme.
Ledgerkeepsuswrappedtightlytogetherwhenhesays,“Inamatterofafewweeks,Iwentfromhatingyoutolikingyoutowantingtheworldforyou,soforgivemeifthosefeelingssometimesoverlap.”
Irelatetothatmorethanheknows.Isometimeswanttoscreamathimforhavingbeenawallbetweenmeandmydaughter,butatthesametime,Iwanttokisshimforlovingherenoughtobeawallofprotectionforher.
Hisfingermeetsmychin,andhetiltsmyfocusuptohis.“IwishIcouldtakebackwhatIsaidtoyouwhenItoldyouDiemwouldn’tbenefitfromyoubeinginherlife.”Heslideshishandsintomyhairandlooksatmewithsincerity.“Shewouldbeluckytohaveawomanlikeyouinherlife.You’reselflessandyou’rekindandyou’restrong.You’reeverythingIwantDiemtobesomeday.”Hewipesawayatearthatfallsdownmycheek.“AndIdon’tknowhowIcanchangetheirminds,butI’mgoingtotry.IwanttofightforyoubecauseIknowthat’swhatScottywouldwantmetodo.”
Ihavenoideawhattodowithallthefeelingshiswordsjustbroughtout.
Ledgerdoesn’tkissme,butthat’sonlybecauseIkisshimfirst.IpressmymouthtohisbecausenothingIcouldsaywouldconveyhowmuchIappreciatethevalidationhejustgavetome.It’sonethingforhimtoadmithewantsmetomeether,buthetookitamillionstepsfurtherbysayinghewantshertobelikeme.
It’sthekindestthinganyonehaseversaidtome.
Histongueslidesagainstmine,andtheheatfromhismouthseemstopulseintome.Ipullhimcloseruntilourchestsmeet,butit’sstillnotcloseenough.IhadnoideathatwastheonlythingholdingmebackfromLedger.Ijustneededtoknowhebelievedinme.NowthatIknowhedoes,Ican’tfindasinglepartofmethatdoesn’twanteverypartofhim.
Ledgerliftsmeandwalksmeacrosstheroomtothecouchwithoutbreakingourkiss.
Theweightofhisbodyfeelssogoodpressedagainstmine.IstarttopulloffhisshirtbecauseIwanttobeagainsthisskin,buthepushesmyhandaway.“Wait,”hesays,pullingback.“Wait,wait,wait.”
Idropmyheadtothecouchandgroan.Ican’ttakemuchmoreofthisback-and-forth.I’mfinallyinaheadspacetolethimdowhateverhewantstome,andnowhe’stheonepullingaway.
Hekissesmychin.“Imightbegettingaheadofmyself,butifwe’reabouttohavesex,Ineedtogodowntomytruckandgrabacondombeforeyouundressme.Unlessyouhaveacondomuphere.”
I’msorelievedthat’swhyhestopped.Ipushhimaway.“Hurry.Gogetone.”
He’soffthecouchandoutthedoorinseconds.Iusethespareminutetocheckmyreflectioninthebathroommirror.IvyisasleepinherlittlebedthatI’vesetnexttothetub.
Itakeasmalldaboftoothpasteandbrushitacrossmyteethandtongue.
IwishIcouldwriteaquicklettertoScotty.IfeellikeIneedtowarnhimofwhat’sabouttohappen,whichisstupidbecausehe’sdeadandit’sbeenfiveyearsandIcanhavesexwithwhoeverIwant,buthewasthelastpersonI’veeverhadsexwith,sothisfeelslikeareallybigmoment.
Nottomention,it’swithhisbestfriend.
“Iamsosorry,Scotty,”Iwhisper.“Butnotsorryenoughtostopit.”
Ihearmyfrontdooropen,soIleavethebathroomandfindLedgerlockingthedoor.Whenheturnstofaceme,Ilaughbecausehe’ssoakingwetfromtherain.Hishairisdrippingwaterintohiseyes,sohepushesitback.“Iprobablyshouldhaveusedtheumbrella,butIdidn’twanttowasteanytime.”
Iwalkovertohimandhelphimoutofhisshirt.Hereturnsthefavorandhelpsmeoutofmine.I’mwearingmygoodbra.IweariteverytimeIworkashiftathisbarbecauseI’vewantedtobepreparedincasethishappened.
I’vebeentryingtoconvincemyselfitwouldn’t,butdeepdown,I’vebeenhopingitwould.
Ledgerleansforwardandkissesmeonthemouthwithhisrain-soakedlips.He’scoldbecausehe’swet,buthistongueisascorchingcontrasttohisfrigidlips.
Mystomachswirlswithheatwhenhewrapshisotherhandinmyhairandtiltsmyfacebacksohecankissmeevendeeper.Ilowermyhandstohisjeansandunbuttonthem,anxioustogethimoutofthem.Determinedtofeelhimagainstme.FearfulthatIwon’trememberhowtodothis.
It’sbeensolongsinceI’vehadsexIfeellikeIshouldwarnhim.Hestartstowalkmebackwardtowardtheinflatablemattress.Helowersmeontoitandstartstoremovetherestofmyclothes.Ashe’sworkingmyjeansdownmylegs,Isay,“Ihaven’tbeenwithanyonesinceScotty.”
Hiseyesmeetmineafterhepullsoffmyjeans,andthere’sacalmingreassuranceinhisexpression.Helowershimselfontopofmeandpressesasoftkisstomymouth.“It’sokaytochangeyourmind.”
Ishakemyhead.“I’mnot.Ijustwantedyoutoknowit’sbeenawhile.IncaseI’mnotvery…”
Hecutsmeoffwithanotherkiss;thenhesays,“You’vealreadyexceededmyexpectations,Kenna.”Hemoveshismouthtomyneck,andIfeelhistonguedragupmythroat.
Myeyesfallshut.
Heremovesmypantiesandmybraandhisjeanswhilehistongueexploreseveryinchofmebetweenmyneckandmystomach.Whenhecrawlsbackupmetokissmeonthemouth,Ifeelhimhardbetweenmylegs,anditfillsmewithanticipation.Igivehimadeep,long,meaningfulkisswhilehereachesbetweenusandputsonthecondom.
Hepositionshimselfagainstme,buthedoesn’tenterme.Instead,heslideshisfingerupthecenterofme,andit’ssounexpectedIarchmybackandmoan.
Mymoanisdrownedoutbythethunderoutside.It’srainingevenhardernow,butIlikethatthethunderstormisourbackgroundnoise.Itsomehowmakesthisevenmoresensual.
Ledgercontinuestoworkhisfingeroverme,andtheninsideofme,andthesensationissointenseIcan’tevenkisshimback.MylipsarepartedandI’mmoaninginbetweengaspsofair.Ledgerkeepshislipsrestedagainstminewhenhebeginstopushintome.
Heisn’tabletopushintomewithease.It’saslow,almostpainfulexperience.Imovemymouthtohisshoulderashemakesgentleprogress.
Whenhe’sallthewayinsideme,Idropmyheadbacktothepillowbecausethepaintransformsintopleasure.Heslowlypullsoutandthenpushesbackintomewithalittlemoreforce.Heexhalessharply,andhisbreathfallsovermyshoulder,ticklingmyskin.
Iliftmyhips,openingmyselfuptohimevenmore,andheshovesintomeagain.
“Kenna.”Icanbarelyopenmyeyesandlookathim.Hislipsgrazemineandhewhispers,“Thisistoogood.Fuck.Fuck,Ihavetostop.”Hepullsoutofme,andwhenhedoes,Iwhimper.It’sanimmediateemptinessIwasn’tpreparedfor.Ledgerremainsontopofmeandslidestwofingersinsideofme,soIdon’tevenhavetimetocomplainbeforeI’mmoaningagain.Hekissesthespotjustbelowmyear.“I’msorry,butIwon’tlastlongwhenI’mbackinsideyou.”
Idon’tevencare.Ijustwanthimtokeepdoingwhathe’sdoingwithhishand.Iwrapmyarmaroundhisneckandpullhimdown.Iwantallhisweightpressedagainstme.
Heslideshisthumbupthecenterofme,anditsendssuchanintensejoltthroughme,Iendupbitinghisshoulder.Hegroanswhenmyteethclampontohisskin,andhisgroanbringsmerightovertheedge.
Ourmouthsmeetinafrantickiss,andheswallowsmymoanswhilehefinishesmeoff.I’mstilltremblingbeneathhistouchwhenhethrustsintomeagain.Thewavesofmyorgasmarestillrollingthroughmewhenheliftsupontohiskneesandgripsmywaist,pullingmetomeeteachthrust.
God,he’sbeautiful.Themusclesinhisarmsflexwitheachrollofhiships.Hepullsoneofmylegsuptohisshoulder.Wemakeeyecontactforafewseconds,andthenheturnshisheadandrunshistongueupmyleg.
Iwasn’texpectingthat.Iwanthimtodoitagain,butheshovesmylegasideandlowershimselfontopofmeagain.
We’reatadifferentanglenow,andhe’ssomehowabletostabintomeevendeeper.It’sonlysecondsbeforehestartstocome.Hetensesupanddropshisweightonme.“Fuck.”Hegroansandthensays,“Fuck,”asecondtime.Thenhe’skissingme.Intensekissesatfirst,butafterhepullsout,thekissesgrowsweeter.Softer.Slower.
Ialreadywantittohappenagain,butIneedtocatchmybreathfirst.Mayberehydrate.Wekissforacoupleofminutes,andit’ssohardtostopbecausethisisthefirsttimewe’vebeenabletoenjoyeachotherwithoutthingscomingtoanabruptend.
Itdoesn’thelpthattherainagainstthewindowsiscreatingtheperfectbackdroptothismoment.Idon’twantittoend.Idon’tthinkLedgerdoeseither,becauseeverytimeIthinkhe’sfinishedkissingme,hecomesbackformore.
Hedoesstopeventually,butonlylongenoughtogotothebathroomanddisposeofthecondom.Whenhecomesbacktothebed,headjustshimselfuntilhe’sspooningme,andthenhekissesmyshoulder.
Hethreadshisfingersthroughmineandtucksourhandsagainstmystomach.“Iwouldn’tmindifweputthatonthescheduleagainfortonight.”
Ilaughatthewayhephrasedthat.Idon’tknowwhyIfinditfunny.“Yes.Let’stellSiritoputitonthecalendarforanhourfromnow,”Itease.
“Hey,Siri!”heyells.Bothofourphonesgooffatthesametime.“SchedulesexwithKennaforonehourfromnow!”Ilaughandelbowhim,thenrollontomyback.Heliftsupandsmilesdownatme.“I’lllastalotlongerthesecondtime.Ipromise.”
“Iprobablywon’t,”Iadmit.
Ledgerkissesme,andthenheburieshisheadinmyhair,tuggingmeclosertohisside.
Istareupattheceilingforalongtime.
Maybehalfanhour.Maybeevenlonger.Ledger’sbreathinghasevenedout,andI’malmostpositivehe’sasleep.
Therainhasn’tletupatall,butmymindistooactiveforittomakemesleepy.IhearIvymeowfromthebathroom,soIslipoffthemattressandletherout.
Shehopsontothecouchandcurlsupintoaball.
Iwalktothecounterandslidemynotebookinfrontofme.IgrabapenandbeginwritingalettertoScotty.Itdoesn’ttakemelong.It’sashortletter,butwhenIfinishandclosethenotebook,IcatchLedgerstaringatme.He’sonhisstomachwithhischinrestingonhisarms.
“Whatdidyouwrite?”heasks.
Thisisthethirdtimehe’saskedmetoreadhimsomething.ThisisthefirsttimeIfeellikeconceding.
IopenthenotebooktotheletterIjustwrote.IrunmyfingeroverScotty’sname.“Youmightnotlikeit.”
“Isitthetruth?”
Inod.
Ledgerpointstotheemptyspotnexttohimonthebed.“ThenIwanttohearit.Comehere.”
Iraiseaneyebrowinwarningbecausenoteveryonecanhandlethetruthaswellastheythinktheycan.Butheremainssteadfast,soIjoinhimonthebed.Herollsontohisback,andI’msittingcross-leggednexttohimwhenIbegintoread.
“DearScotty,
Ihadsexwithyourbestfriendtonight.I’mnotsurethat’ssomethingyouwanttohear.Ormaybeitis.Igetthefeelingifyoucanheartheselettersfromwhereveryouare,youwouldwantmetobehappy.Andrightnow,Ledgeristheonethinginmylifethatmakesmehappy.Ifit’sanyconsolation,thesexwithhimwasgreat,butnoonecanholdacandletoyou.
Love,
Kenna.”
Iclosethenotebookandrestitonmylap.Ledgerisquietforamomentashestaresstoicallyattheceiling.“You’rejustsayingthatsoyoudon’thurthisfeelings,right?”
Ilaugh.“Sure.Ifthat’swhatyouneedtohear.”
Hegrabsthenotebookandtossesitaside;thenhewrapsanarmaroundmeandpullsmeontopofhim.“Itwasgood,though,right?”
Ipressafingertohislipsanddropmymouthtohisear.“Thebest,”Iwhisper.
AttheexactmomentIsaythat,aloudclapofthunderrollsthroughtheskyoutsidewithperfecttiming.It’ssoloudIcanfeelitinmystomach.
“Ohshit,”Ledgersayswithalaugh.“Scottydidn’tlikethat.Youbettertakeitback.TellhimIsuck.”
IimmediatelyslideoffLedgerandlieonmyback.“I’msorry,Scotty!You’rebetterthanLedger,Ipromise!”
Welaughtogether,butthenwebothsighandlistentotherainforawhile.Ledgereventuallyputsahandonmyhipandrollsmetowardhim.Henipsatmybottomlipbeforekissingmyneck.“IfeellikeIneedanotheropportunitytoprovemyself.”Hiskissesmovelowerandloweruntilhetakesoneofmynipplesintohismouth.
Thesecondtimeismuchlonger,andsomehowevenbetter.CHAPTERTHIRTY-TWO
LEDGER
ThekittensleptinKenna’sarmsallnight.Maybeit’sweird,butIlikewatchingherwithIvy.She’saffectionatewithher.ShealwaysmakessureIvydoesn’thaveanopportunitytorunoutsidewhensheisn’tlooking.
Itmakesmecurioushowshe’llbewithDiem.BecauseI’mconfidentI’llgettowitnessitsomeday.Itmighttakeusawhiletogetthere,butI’llfindaway.ShedeservesitandDiemdeservesit,andItrustmygutfeelingsmorethanmydoubts.
ImovequietlyasIreachformyphonetocheckthetime.It’salmostseveninthemorning,andDiemwillwakeupsoon.She’llnoticemytruckisgone.IshouldprobablytrytogethomebeforetheyleaveforPatrick’smother’shouse.Idon’twanttoslipoutwhileKennaisasleep,though.Iwouldfeellikeanassholeifshewokeupaloneafterlastnight.
Ipressagentlekisstothecornerofhermouth,andthenIbrushherhairoutofherface.Shebeginstomove,andmoan,andIknowshe’sjustwakingup,butherwake-upsoundsareverysimilartohersexsounds,andnowIdon’twanttoleave.Ever.
Shefinallygetshereyesopenandlooksupatme.
“Ihavetogo,”Isayquietly.“CanIcomebackoverlater?”
Shenods.“I’llbehere.I’mofftoday.”Shegivesmeaclosed-lipskiss.“I’llkissyoubetterlater,butIwanttobrushmyteethfirst.”
Ilaughandthenkisshercheek.BeforeIgetup,wehavethisbriefmomentofeyecontactwhereitfeelslikeshe’sthinkingsomethingshedoesn’twanttosayoutloud.Istaredownatherforaminute,waitingforhertospeak,butwhenshedoesn’t,Ikissheronthemouthonemoretime.“I’llbebackthisafternoon.”
Iwaitedtoolong.DiemandGracearealreadyawakeandintheirfrontyardwhenIpullontoourstreet.DiemseesmebeforeGracedoes,soshe’salreadyrunningacrossthestreetwhenIpullintomydrivewayandkillmytruck.
Iswingopenthedoorandimmediatelyscoopherup.IkissthesideofDiem’sheadrightwhenshewrapsherselfaroundmeandsqueezesmyneck.IsweartoGod,thereisnothingevenremotelyclosetoahugfromthisgirl.
Ahugfromhermotherdoesrunaveryclosesecond,though.
Gracemakesittomyyardafewsecondslater.Sheshootsmeateasinglook,asifsheknowswhyIwasoutallnight.Shemightthinksheknows,butshewouldn’tbelookingatmelikethisifshehadanycluewhoIwaswith.
“Youlooklikeyoudidn’tgetmuchsleep,”shesays.
“Isleptplenty.Getyourheadoutofthegutter.”
GracelaughsandtugsonDiem’sponytail.“Well,youhaveperfecttiming.Shewashopingtosaygoodbyebeforeweleft.”
Diemhugsmyneckagain.“Don’tforgetaboutme,”shesays,looseninghergripsoIcansetherbackdown.
“You’llonlybegoneonenight,D.HowcouldIforgetaboutyou?”
Diemscratchesherfaceandsays,“You’reold,andoldpeopleforgetstuff.”
“Iamnotold,”Isay.“Holdonbeforeyougo,Grace.”IunlockmyfrontdoorandheadtomykitchenandgrabtheflowersIboughtforheryesterdaymorning.Ihaven’tletaMother’sDayoraFather’sDaypasswithoutgettingsomethingforherorPatrick.
She’sbeenlikeamothertomemywholelife,soI’dhonestlyprobablystillbuyherflowersevenifScottywerehere.
“HappyMother’sDay.”Ihandthemtoher,andsheactssurprisedanddelightedandgivesmeahug,butIdon’thearherthank-youthroughtheloudregretpiercingthroughmerightnow.
IforgottodaywasMother’sDay.IwokeupnexttoKennathismorningandsaidnothingtoheraboutit.Ifeellikeanasshole.
“IneedtoputtheseinwaterbeforeIgo,”Gracesays.“WanttobuckleDiemintothecarforme?”
IgrabDiem’shandandwalkthemacrossthestreet.Patrickisalreadyinthecarwaiting.Gracewalkstheflowersintothehouse,andIopenthebackdoortobuckleDiemintohercarseat.“What’sMother’sDay?”sheasksme.
“It’saholiday.”Ikeepmyexplanationbrief,butPatrickandItradeglances.
“Iknow.ButwhyareyouandNoNogivingNanaflowersforMother’sDay?YousaidRobinisyourmother.”
“Robinismymother,”Isay.“AndyourgrandmaLandryisNoNo’smother.That’swhyyou’regoingtoseehertoday.ButonMother’sDay,ifyouknowamotherthatyoulove,youbuyherflowersevenifsheisn’tyourmother.”
Diemcrinklesuphernose.“AmIsupposedtogivemymotherflowers?”She’sreallybeenworkingthroughthewholefamilytreelately,andit’scute,butalsoconcerning.She’seventuallygoingtofindoutherfamilytreewasoncestruckbylightning.
Patrickfinallychimesin.“Wegaveyournanaherflowerslastnight,remember?”
Diemshakesherhead.“No.I’mtalkingaboutmymotherthatisn’there.Theonewiththetinycar.Arewesupposedtogiveherflowers?”
PatrickandItradeanotherglance.I’msurehe’smistakingthepainonmyfacefordiscomfortatDiem’squestion.IkissDiemontheforeheadjustasGracereturnstothecar.“Yourmotherwillgetflowers,”IsaytoDiem.“Loveyou.TellyourgrandmaLandryIsaidhello.”
Diemsmilesandpatsmycheekwithhertinyhand.“HappyMother’sDay,Ledger.”
Ibackawayfromthecarandtellthemtohaveasafetrip.Butasthey’redrivingaway,IfeelmyheartgrowheavierasDiem’swordssinkin.
She’sstartingtowonderabouthermother.She’sstartingtoworry.AndeventhoughPatrickassumedIwasjustreassuringherbysayingDiem’smotherwouldgetflowers,Iwasactuallymakingherapromise.OneIwon’tbreak.
TheideaofKennagoingthroughtheentiredaytodaywithouthermotherhoodbeingacknowledgedbyanyonemakesmeangryatthiswholesituation.
IsometimeswanttoplacethatblamedirectlyonPatrickandGrace,butthat’snotfaireither.They’rejustdoingwhattheyneedtodotosurvive.
Itiswhatitis.Afucked-upsituation,withnoevilpeopletoblame.We’realljustabunchofsadpeopledoingwhatwehavetodotomakeituntiltomorrow.Someofussadderthanothers.Someofusmorewillingtoforgivethanothers.
Grudgesareheavy,butforthepeoplehurtingthemost,Isupposeforgivenessisevenheavier.
IpulluptoKenna’sapartmentafewhourslaterandamhalfwaytothestairswhenIspotheroutback.She’scleaningoffthetableIlentherwhenshenoticesme.Hereyesfalltotheflowersinmyhand,andshestiffens.Iwalkclosertoher,butshe’sstillstaringattheflowers.Ihandthemtoher.“HappyMother’sDay.”I’vealreadyputtheflowersinavasebecauseIwasn’tsureifsheevenhadone.
Basedonthelookonherface,I’mwonderingifmaybeIshouldn’thaveboughtherflowers.MaybecelebratingMother’sDaybeforeshe’sevenmetherchildisuncomfortable.Idon’tknow,butIfeellikeIshouldhaveputmorethoughtintothismoment.
Shetakesthemfrommewithhesitation,likeshe’sneverbeengivenagiftbefore.Thenshelooksatme,andveryquietly,shesays,“Thankyou.”Shemeansit.Thewayhereyestearupimmediatelyconvincesmebringingthemwastherightmove.
“Howwasthelunch?”
Shesmiles.“Itwasfun.Wehadfun.”Shenudgesherheaduptoherapartment.“Youwanttocomeup?”
Ifollowherupstairs,andoncewe’reinsideherapartment,shetopsoffthevasewithalittlemorewaterandsetsitonhercounter.She’sadjustingtheflowerswhenshesays,“Whatareyoudoingtoday?”
Iwanttosay,“Whateveryou’redoing,”butIdon’tknowwhereherheadisatafterlastnight.Sometimesthingsseemgoodandperfectinthemoment,butwhenyougethoursofreflectionafterward,theperfectioncanmorphintosomethingelse.“I’mheadingouttothenewhousetogetsomeworkdoneonthefloors.PatrickandGracetookDiemtohismother’s,sothey’llbegoneuntiltomorrow.”
Kennaiswearingapinkbutton-upshirtthatlooksnew,andit’stoppedoveralong,white,flowyskirt.I’veneverseenherinanythingotherthanaT-shirtandjeans,butthisshirtrevealsthetiniesthintofhercleavage.I’mtryingsohardnottolook,butholyfuck,it’sastruggle.Webothstandinsilenceforabeat.ThenIsay,“Youwanttocomewithme?”
Sheeyesmecautiously.“Doyouwantmeto?”
Irealizethehesitationpouringfromhermaynotbebecauseofherownfeelingsofregret,butratherherfearsthatIhaveregrets.
“OfcourseIdo.”Theconvictioninmyresponsemakeshersmile,andhersmilebreaksdownwhateverwaskeepingusseparated.Ipullhertomeandkissher.Sheimmediatelyseemsateaseoncemymouthisonhers.
IhatethatIevenmadeherdoubtherselfforonesecond.IshouldhavekissedherassoonasIhandedhertheflowersdownstairs.
“Canwegetsnowconesonthewaythere?”sheasks.
Inod.
“Doyouhaveyourpunchcard?”sheteases.
“Ineverleavethehousewithoutit.”
ShelaughsandthengrabsherpurseandpetsIvygoodbye.
Whenwegetdownstairs,KennaandIfoldupthetableandchairsandbeginhaulingthemtomytruck.ItworksoutthatI’mheretoday,becauseI’vebeenmeaningtomoveoneofthesetablestothenewhouse.
I’mcarryingthelastarmfulofchairstothetruckwhenLadyDianaappearsoutofnowhere.ShestandsbetweenmeandKennaandthetruck.“Areyouleavingwiththejerk?”sheasksKenna.
“Youcanstopcallinghimajerknow.HisnameisLedger.”
LadyDianalooksmeupanddownandthenmutters,“Ledgerk.”
Kennaignorestheinsultandsays,“I’llseeyouatworktomorrow.”
I’mlaughingwhenwegetinthetruck.“Ledgerk.Thatwasactuallyreallyclever.”
Kennabucklesherseatbeltandsays,“She’swittyandvicious.It’sadangerouscombination.”
Iputthetruckinreverse,wonderingifIshouldgivehertheothergiftIhaveforher.Nowthatwe’rehereinmytrucktogether,itfeelsslightlymoreembarrassingthanwhenIgottheideaforit,andthefactthatIspentsolongonitthismorningmakesitthatmuchmoreawkward,sowe’reatleastamilefromherapartmentbeforeIfinallyworkupthenervetosay,“Imadeyousomething.”
Iwaituntilwe’reatastopsign,andthenItextherthelink.Herphonepings,sosheopensthelinkandstaresatherscreenforafewseconds.“Whatisthis?Aplaylist?”
“Yeah.Imadeitthismorning.It’sovertwentysongsthathaveabsolutelynothingtodowithanythingthatcouldremindyouofanythingsad.”
Shestaresatthescreenonherphoneasshescrollsthroughthesongs.I’mwaitingforsomekindofreactionfromher,butherfaceisblank.Shelooksoutthewindowandcovershermouthlikeshe’sstiflingalaugh.Ikeepstealingglancesather,butIeventuallycan’ttakeitanymore.“Areyoulaughing?Wasthatstupid?”
Whensheturnstofaceme,she’ssmiling,andtheremightevenbeburgeoningtearsinhereyes.“It’snotstupidatall.”
Shereachesacrosstheseatformyhand,andthenshelooksbackoutherwindow.Foratleasttwomiles,I’mfightingbackasmile.
Butthensomewherearoundthethirdmile,I’mfightingbackafrownbecausesomethingassimpleasaplaylistshouldn’tmakeherwanttocry.
Herlonelinessisstartingtohurtme.Iwanttoseeherhappy.IwanttobeabletosayalltherightthingswhenItellPatrickandGracewhytheyshouldgiveherachance,butthefactthatIstilldon’ttrulyknowherhistorywithScottyisoneofthemanythingsI’mafraidmightpreventtheoutcomewebothwant.
EverytimeI’mwithher,thequestionsarealwaysonthetipofmytongue.“Whathappened?Whydidyouleavehim?”Butit’seithernevertherightmoment,orthemomentisrightbuttheemotionsarealreadytooheavy.IwantedtoaskherlastnightwhenIwasaskingheralltheotherquestions,butIjustcouldn’tgetitout.Sometimesshelookstoosadformetoexpecthertotalkaboutthingsthatwillmakeherevensadder.
Ineedtoknow,though.IfeellikeIcan’tfullydefendherorblindlyrootforhertobeinDiem’slifeuntilIknowexactlywhathappenedthatnightandwhy
“Kenna?”Weglanceateachotheratthesametime.“Iwanttoknowwhathappenedthatnight.”
Theairdevelopsaweighttoit,anditfeelshardertobreathein.
IthinkIjustmadeitharderforhertobreathetoo.Sheinhalesaslowbreathandreleasesmyhand.Sheflexesherfingersandgripsherthighs.
“Yousaidyouwroteaboutit.Willyoureadittome?”
Herexpressionisfilledwithwhatlookslikefearnow,likeshe’stooscaredtogobacktothatnight.Ortooscaredtotakemetherewithher.Idon’tblameher,andIfeelbadaskingherto,butIwanttoknow.
Ineedtoknow.
IfI’mgoingtodroptomykneesinfrontofPatrickandGracewhenIbegthemtogiveherachance,IneedtofullyknowthepersonI’mfightingfor.Eventhoughatthispointshecouldn’tsayanythingthatwouldchangemymindabouther.Iknowshe’sagoodperson.Agoodpersonwhohadonebadnight.Ithappenstothebestofus.TheworstofusAllofus.Someofusarejustluckierthanothers,andourbadmomentshavefewercasualties.
Iadjustmygriponthesteeringwheel,andthenIsay,“Please.Ineedtoknow,Kenna.”
Anotherquietmomentpasses,butthenshegrabsherphoneandunlocksthescreen.Sheclearsherthroat.Mywindowiscracked,soIrollitallthewayupandmakeitquieterinthecabofthetruck.
Shelookssonervous.Beforeshebeginstoread,Ireachoverandtuckaloosestrandofhairbehindherearasashowofsolidarity…orsomething,Idon’tknow.IjustwanttotouchherandletherknowI’mnotjudgingher.
Ijustneedtoknowwhathappened.That’sall.CHAPTERTHIRTY-THREE
KENNA
DearScotty,
Yourcarwasmyfavoriteplacetobe.Idon’tknowifIevertoldyouthat.
Itwastheonlyplacewecouldgettruesolitude.Iusedtolookforwardtothedaysourscheduleswouldalign,andyou’dpickmeupfromwork.I’dgetinyourcaranditwaslikefeelingallthesamewelcomingcomfortsofhome.Youalwayshadasodawaitingforme,andonthedaysyouknewIhadn’thaddinneryet,you’dhaveasmallorderoffriesfromMcDonald’ssittinginthecupholderbecauseyouknewtheyweremyfavoritefries.
Youweresweet.Youalwaysdidsweetthingsforme.Tinylittlegestureshereandtherethatmostpeopledon’tthinkof.YouweremorethanIdeserved,eventhoughyou’darguewiththat.
I’vegoneoverthedayyoudiedsomanytimes,Ioncewroteeverysinglesecondofthatdaydownonpaper.Mostofitwasanestimate,ofcourse.Idon’tknowifIactuallyspentaminuteandahalfbrushingmyteeththatmorning.OrifthebreakItookatworkreallywasfifteenminutestothesecond.Orifwereallyspentfifty-sevenminutesatthepartywewenttothatnight.
I’msureI’moffinmycalculationsbyafewminuteshereorthere,butforthemostpart,Icanaccountforeverythingthathappenedthatday.EventhethingsIwishIcouldforget.
Aguyyouwenttocollegewithwashavingapartyandyouhadbeenhisroommateyourfreshmanyear,soyousaidyouowedittohimtomakeanappearance.Iwassadtohavetobeattheparty,butinhindsight,I’mgladyougottoseemostofyourfriendsthatnight.Iknowitprobablymeantsomethingtothemafteryoudied.
Eventhoughyouhadmadeanappearance,itwasn’tyoursceneanymoreandIknewyoudidn’twanttobethere.Youwerepastthepartiesandstartingtofocusonthemoreimportantpiecesoflife.Youhadjuststartedgraduateschool,andyouspentyoursparetimeeitherstudyingorwithme.
Iknewwewouldn’tbetherelong,soIfoundachairinacornerofthelivingroomandcurledupintoitwhileyoumadeyourrounds.Idon’tknowifyouknewthis,butIwatchedyoufortheentirefifty-sevenminuteswewerethere.Youweresomagnetic.People’seyeswouldlightupwhentheywouldlookatyou.Crowdswouldgatheraroundyou,andwhenyou’dspotsomeoneyouhadn’tyetgreeted,you’dhavethishugereactionandmakethemfeellikethemostimportantpersonatthatparty.
Idon’tknowifthat’ssomethingyoupracticed,butIhaveafeelingyoudidn’tevenknowyouhadthatkindofpower.Thepowertomakepeoplefeelappreciatedandimportant.
Aroundthefifty-sixthminutewewerethere,youspottedmesittinginthecornersmilingatyou.Youwalkedovertome,ignoringeveryonearoundyou,andIsuddenlyfoundmyselfthefocusofyoursoleattention.
Youhadmelockedinyourgaze,andIknewIwasappreciated.Iwasimportant.Yousatdownnexttomeinthechairandyoukissedmyneckandwhisperedinmyear,“I’msorryIleftyoualone.”
Youdidn’tleavemealone.Iwaswithyouthewholetime.
“Doyouwanttoleavenow?”youasked.
“Notifyou’rehavingfun.”
“Areyouhavingfun?”youasked.
Ishrugged.Icouldthinkofalotmorethingsthatweremorefunthanthatparty.Bythesmilethatspreadacrossyourface,Igatheredyoufeltthesame.“Wanttogotothelake?”
Inoddedbecausethoseweremythreefavoritethings.Thatlake.Yourcar.You.
Youstoleatwelvepackofbeersandwesnuckoutandyoudroveustothelake.
Wehadafavoritespotwherewe’dgosomenights.Itwasdownaruralbackroad,andyousaidyouknewofitbecauseyouusedtogocampingtherewithyourfriends.Itwasn’tfarfromwhereIlivedwithroommates,sosometimesyou’dshowupatmyapartmentinthemiddleofthenightandwe’dgothereandhavesexonthedock,orinthewater,orinyourcar.Sometimeswe’dstayandwatchthesunrise.
Thatparticularnight,wehadthebeeryouhadtakenfromthepartyandsomeleftoverediblesyouhadboughtoffafriendtheweekbefore.Wehadthemusicturnedupandweweremakingoutinthewater.Wedidn’thavesexthatnight.Sometimesweonlymadeout,andIlikedthataboutyousomuch,becauseoneofthethingsI’vealwayshatedaboutrelationshipsishowmake-outsseemtostopwhensexbecomesathing.
Butwithyou,themake-outswerealwaysjustasspecialasthesex.
Youkissedmeinthewaterlikeitwasthelasttimeyouwouldeverkissme.Iwonderifyouhadsomesortoffear,orpremonition,andthat’swhyyoukissedmethewayyoudid.OrmaybeIonlyrememberitsowellbecauseitwasourlastkiss.
Wegotoutofthewaterandwewerelyingnakedonthedockunderthemoonlight,theworldspinningaboveourheads.
“Iwantmeatloaf,”yousaid.
Ilaughedatyou,becauseitwassucharandomthingtosay.“Meatloaf?”
Yougrinnedandsaid,“Yeah.Doesn’tthatsoundgood?Meatloafandmashedpotatoes.”Yousatuponthedockandhandedmemydryshirt.“Let’sgotothediner.”
You’dhadmoretodrinkthanme,soyouaskedmetodrive.Itwasn’tlikeustodrinkanddrive,butIthinkwefeltinvincibleunderthatmoonlight.Wewereyoungandinlove,andsurelynoonedieswhenthey’reattheirhappiest
Wewerealsohigh,soourdecisionswereslightlymoreimpairedthatnight,butwhateverthereason,youaskedmetodrive.Andforwhateverreason,Ididn’ttellyouIshouldn’t.
Igotinthatcar,knowingIhadtrippedonthegravelasIreachedforthedoor.Istillgotbehindthewheel,eventhoughIhadtoblinkreallyhardtomakesurethecarwasindriveandnotinreverse.AndIstillchosetodriveusawayfromthelake,eventhoughIwastoodrunktorememberhowtoturndownthevolume.Coldplaywasblastingsoloudovertheradioitwasmakingmyearshurt.
Wedidn’tevengetveryfarbeforeithappened.YouknewtheroadsbetterthanIdid.Theyweregravel,andIwasgoingtoofast,andIdidn’tknowtheturnwassosharp.
Yousaid,“Slowdown,”butyousaiditkindofloud,anditstartledme,soIslammedonthebrakes,butIknownowthatslammingonbrakesonagravel-toproadcanmakeyoulosecompletecontrolofthecar,especiallywhenyou’redrunk.Iwasturningthewheeltotheright,butthecarkeptgoingtotheleft,likeitwasslippingonice.
Alotofpeopleareluckyafterawreckbecausetheydon’trememberthedetails.Theyhaverecollectionsofthingsthathappenedbeforethewreck,andafterthewreck,butovertime,everysinglesecondofthatnighthascomebacktome,whetherIwantedittoornot.
Thetopwasdownonyourconvertible,andallIcanrememberwhenIfeltthecarhittheditchandbegintotiltwasthatweneededtoprotectourfaces,becauseIwasworriedtheglassfromthewindshieldmightcutus.
Thatwasmybiggestfearinthatmoment.Alittlebitofglass.Ididn’tseemylifeflashbeforemyeyes.Ididn’tevenseeyourlifeflashbeforemyeyes.AllIworriedaboutinthatmomentwaswhatwouldhappentothewindshield.
Becausesurelynoonedieswhenthey’reattheirhappiest
Ifeltmywholeworldtilt,andthenIfeltgravelagainstmycheek.
TheradiowasstillblastingColdplay.
Theenginewasstillrunning.
MybreathhadcaughtinmythroatandIcouldn’tevenscream,butIdidn’tthinkIneededto.Ijustkeptthinkingaboutyourcarandhowmadyouprobablywere.Irememberwhispering,“I’msosorry,”likeyourbiggestconcernwouldbethatwewouldhavetocallatowtruck.
Everythinghappenedsofast,butIwascalminthatmoment.Ithoughtyouwere,too.IwaswaitingforyoutoaskmeifIwasokay,butwewereupsidedowninaconvertible,andeverythingI’dhadtodrinkthatnightwasflippingoverinmystomach,andIfelttheweightofgravitylikeIhadneverfeltitbefore.IthoughtIwasgoingtopukeandneededtorightmyselfup,soIstruggledtofindmyseatbelt,andwhenIfinallyclickedit,Irememberfalling.Itwasonlyacoupleofinches,butitwasunexpectedandIletoutayelp.
Youstilldidn’taskmeifIwasokay.
Itwasdark,andIrealizedwemightbetrapped,soIreachedoverandtouchedyourarmtofollowyouout.Iknewyou’dfindawayout.Ireliedonyouforeverything,andyourpresencewastheonlyreasonIwasstillcalm.Iwasn’tevenworriedaboutyourcaranymorebecauseIknewyou’dbemoreworriedaboutmethanyourcar.
Andit’snotlikeIwasspeedingtoomuch,ordrivingtoorecklessly.Iwasonlyalittlebitdrunkandalittlebithigh,butsoverystupidtobelieveevenalittlebitwasn’ttoomuch.
Weonlyflippedoverbecausewehitadeepditch,andsincethetopwasn’tevenup,Ithoughtsurelyitwouldbeminimaldamage.Maybeaweekortwointheshop,andthenthecarIlovedsomuch,thecarthatfeltlikehome,wouldbefine.Likeyou.Likeme.
“Scotty.”IshookyourarmwhenIsaidyournamethattime.IwantedyoutoknowIwasokay.Ithoughtmaybeyouwereinshock,andthat’swhyyouweresoquiet.
Whenyoudidn’tmove,andIrealizedyourarmwasjustdanglingagainsttheroadthathadsomehowbecomeourceiling,myfirstthoughtwasthatyoumighthavepassedout.ButwhenIpulledmyhandbacktofigureoutawaytorightmyselfup,itwascoveredinblood.
Bloodthatwassupposedtoberunningthroughyourveins.
Icouldn’tgraspthat.Icouldn’tfathomthatasillywreckonthesideofacountyroadthatlandedusinaditchcouldactuallyhurtus.Butthatwasyourblood.
Iimmediatelyscootedclosertoyou,andbecauseyouwereupsidedownandstillinyourseatbelt,Icouldn’tpullyoutome.Itried,butyouwouldn’tbudge.Iturnedyourfacetomine,butyoulookedlikeyouweresleeping.Yourlipswereslightlypartedandyoureyeswereclosed,andyoulookedsomuchlikeyoulookedallthetimesIspentthenightwithyouandwokeuptofindyouasleepnexttome.
Itriedpullingyou,butyoustillwouldn’tbudgebecausethecarwasontopofpartofyou.Yourshoulderandyourarmweretrapped,andIcouldn’tpullyououtorgettoyourseatbeltandeventhoughitwasdark,Irealizedmoonlightreflectsoffofbloodthesamewayitreflectsofftheocean.
Yourbloodwaseverywhere.Theentirecarbeingupsidedownmadeeverythingevenmoreconfusing.Wherewereyourpockets?Wherewasyourphone?Ineededaphone,soIscrambledandfeltaroundwithmyhands,lookingforaphoneforwhatfeltlikeaneternity,butallIcouldfindwererocksandglass.
Thewholetime,Iwasmutteringyournamethroughchatteringteeth.“Scotty.Scotty,Scotty,Scotty.”Itwasaprayer,butIdidn’tknowhowtopray.Noonehadevertaughtme.Ijustremembertheprayeryouhadgivenoverfamilydinneratyourparents’house,andtheprayersIusedtohearmyfostermother,Mona,pray.ButallI’deverheardpeopledowasblessfood,andIjustwantedyoutowakeup,soIsaidyournameoverandoverandhopedGodwouldhearme,eventhoughIwasn’tsureifIwasgettinghisattention.
Itcertainlyfeltlikenoonewaspayingusattentionthatnight.
WhatIexperiencedinthosemomentswasindescribable.Youthinkyouknowhowyou’llreactinaterrifyingsituation,butthat’sthething.Youcan’tthinkinaterrifyingsituation.There’sprobablyareasonforhowdisconnectedwebecometoourownthoughtsinmomentsofsheerhorror.Butthat’sexactlyhowIfelt.Disconnected.Partsofmeweremovingwithoutmybrainevenknowingwhatwashappening.MyhandsweresearchingaroundforthingsIwasn’tevensureIwaslookingfor.
Iwasgrowinghysterical,becausewitheachpassingsecond,Ibecamemoreawareofhowdifferentmylifewouldbegoingforward.Howthatonesecondhadalteredwhatevercoursewewereon,andthingswouldneverbethesame,andallthepartsofmethathadbecomedisconnectedinthatwreckwouldneverfullyreconnect.
Icrawledoutofthecarthroughthespacebetweenthegroundandmydoor,andonceIwasoutsideandstandingright-side-up,Ipuked.
Theheadlightswereshiningonarowoftrees,butnoneofthatlightwashelpingus,andthenIranaroundtothepassengersideofthecartofreeyou,butIcouldn’t.Therewasyourarm,stickingoutfromunderthecar.Themoonlightglimmeringinyourblood.Igrabbedyourhandandsqueezedit,butitwascold.Iwasstillmutteringyourname.“Scotty,Scotty,Scotty,no,no,no.”Iwentaroundtothewindshieldandtriedkickingittobreakit,buteventhoughitwasalreadycracked,Icouldn’tbreakitenoughtofitthroughit,orpullyouout.
IkneltdownandpressedmyfacetotheglassandIsawwhatIhaddonetoyouthen.Itwasastarkrealizationthatnomatterhowmuchyoulovesomeone,youcanstilldodespicablethingstothem.
Itwaslikeawaveofthemostintensepainyoucouldeverimaginerolledrightoverme.Mybodyrolledwithit.ItstartedatmyheadandIcurledinonmyself,allthewaytomytoes.Igroaned,andIsobbed,andwhenIwentbackaroundthecartotouchyourhandagain,therewasnothing.Nopulseinyourwrist.Noheartbeatinyourpalm.Nowarmthinyourfingertips.
Iscreamed.Iscreamedsomuch,Istoppedbeingabletomakesounds.
AndthenIpanicked.It’stheonlywaytodescribewhathappenedtome.
Icouldn’tfindeitherofourphones,soIstartedrunningtowardthehighway.ThefurtherIgot,themoreconfusedIgrew.Icouldn’timaginethatwhathappenedwasreal,orthatwhatwashappeningwasreal.Iwasrunningdownahighwaywithoneshoe.Icouldseemyself,likeIwasaheadofme,runningtowardme,likeIwasinanightmare,notmakinganyprogress.
Itwasn’tthememoriesofthewreckthattooktimetocomebacktome.Itwasthatmoment.Thepartofthenightthatwasdrownedoutbytheadrenalinerushandhysteriathatbowledthroughme.IstartedmakingnoisesIdidn’tknowIcouldmake.
Icouldn’tbreathebecauseyouweredead,andhowwasIsupposedtobreathewhenyouhadnoair?ItwastheworstrealizationIeverhad,andIfelltomykneesandscreamedintothedarkness.
Idon’tknowhowlongIwasonthesideoftheroad.Carswerepassingme,andIstillhadyourbloodonmyhands,andIwasscaredandangryandcouldn’tstopseeingyourmother’sface.Ihadkilledyouandeveryonewasgoingtomissyou,andyouwouldn’tbearoundtomakeanyonefeelappreciatedorimportantanymore,anditwasmyfault,andIjustwantedtodie.
Ididn’tcareaboutanythingelse.
Ijustwantedtodie.
IwalkedoutintothestreetatwhatI’mguessingwasaroundelevenatnight,andacarhadtoswervetomissme.Itriedthreetimes,withthreedifferentcars,butnoneofthemhitme,andallofthemwereangrythatIwasintheroadatdark.Igothonkedatandcussedat,butnooneputmeoutofmymisery,andnoonehelpedme.Ihadalreadywalkedoveramile,andIdidn’tknowhowfarawayIwasfrommyapartment,butIknewifIcouldjustgetthere,Icouldstepoffmyfourth-floorapartmentbalcony,becausethatwastheonlythingIcouldthinktodointhatmoment.Iwantedtobewithyou,butinmymind,youwerenolongertrappedunderyourcarinthatwreck.Youweresomewhereelse,floatingaroundinthedark,andIwasdeterminedtojoinyoubecausewhatwasthepoint?Youweremywholepoint.
Ibegantoshrinkwitheverysecondthatpassed,untilIfeltinvisible.
Andthat’sthelastthingIremember.There’salongstretchofnothingbetweenmeleavingyouandmeevenrealizingIleftyou.
Hours.
YourfamilywastoldIwalkedhomeandfellasleep,butthat’snotexactlywhathappened.I’malmostpositiveIfaintedfromshock,becausewhenthecopsbeatonmybedroomdoorthenextmorningandIopenedmyeyes,Iwasonthefloor.Inoticedasmallpuddleofbloodonthefloornexttomyhead.Imusthavehitmyheadgoingdown,butIdidn’thavetimetoinspectitbecausepolicewereinmybedroomandoneofthemhadhishandonmyarmandhewasliftingmetomyfeet.
That’sthelasttimeIeversawmybedroom.
IremembermyroommateClarissalookedhorrified.Itwasn’tbecauseshewashorrifiedforme.Shewashorrifiedforherself.Itwasasifshehadbeenlivingwithamurdererallthistimeandhadnoidea.Herboyfriend,wecouldneverrememberhisname—JasonorJacksonorJustin—wascomfortingherlikeIhadruinedherday.
Ialmostapologizedtoher,butIcouldn’tgetmythoughtstoconnectwithmyvoice.Ihadquestions,Iwasconfused,Iwasweak,Iwashurting.Butthemostpowerfulofallthefeelingsfloodingmeinthatmomentwasmyloneliness.
LittledidIknow,thatfeelingwouldbecomeperpetual.Permanent.Iknewwhentheyputmeinthebackseatofthepolicecarthatmylifehadreacheditspeakwithyou,andnothingthatcameafteryouwouldevermatter.
Therewasbeforeyouandtherewasduringyou.Forsomereason,Ineverthoughttherewouldbeanafteryou.
Buttherewas,andIwasinit.
I’llbeinitforever.
There’sstillmoretoread,butmythroatisdryandmynervesareshotandI’mscaredofwhatLedgeristhinkingofmerightnow.He’sgrippingthesteeringwheelsohardhisknuckleshaveturnedwhite.
Ireachformybottleofwaterandtakealongdrink.Ledgerdirectshiscarallthewayuphisdriveway,andwhenwereachhishouse,heputshistruckinparkandleanshiselbowagainsthisdoor.Hedoesn’tlookatme.“Keepreading.”
Myhandsareshakingnow.Idon’tknowifIcancontinuetoreadwithoutcrying,butIdon’tthinkhe’dcareevenifIreadthroughmytears.Itakeanotherdrinkandthenstartreadingthenextchapter.
DearScotty,
Thisiswhatitwaslikeintheinterrogationroom.
Them:Howmuchdidyouhavetodrink?
Me:Silence
Them:Whotookyouhomeafterthewreck?
Me:Silence
Them:Areyouonanyotherillegalsubstances?
Me:Silence
Them:Didyoucallforhelp?
Me:Silence
Them:Didyouknowhewasstillalivewhenyoufledthescene?
Me:Silence
Them:Didyouknowhewasstillalivewhenwefoundhimanhourandahalfago?
Me:Screams.
Lotsofscreams.
Screamsuntiltheyputmebackinacellandsaidthey’dcomebackformewhenIcalmeddown.
WhenIcalmeddown.
Ididn’tcalmdown,Scotty.
I
think
I
lost
a
little
bit
of
my
mind
that
day.
Theypulledmeintotheinterrogationroomtwomoretimesoverthenexttwenty-fourhours.Ihadn’tslept,Iwasheartbroken,Icouldn’teatordrinkanything
Ijust.Wanted.Todie.
Andthen,whentheytoldmeyouwouldstillbealiveifIhadjustcalledforhelp,Ididdie.ItwasaMonday,Ithink.Twodaysafterourwreck.Isometimeswanttobuymyselfaheadstoneandhavethatdatewrittenonit,eventhoughI’mstillpretendingnottobedead.Myepitaphwouldread:KennaNicoleRowan,diedtwodaysafterthepassingofherbelovedScotty.
Ineverevenattemptedtocallmymotherthroughallofit.Iwastoodepressedtocallanyoneatall.AndhowcouldIcallmyfriendsbackhomeandtellthemwhatI’ddone?
Iwasashamedandsad,andasaresultofthat,nooneinmylifebeforeImetyouknewwhatIhaddone.Andsinceyouweregone,andyourentirefamilyhatedme,Ihadnovisitors.
Theyappointedmealawyer,butIhadnoonetopostbail.Ididn’tevenhaveanywheretogoifIcouldhavepostedbail.Ifoundcomfortbeingthereinthatjailcell,soIdidn’tmindit.IfIcouldn’tbewithyouinyourcar,theonlyplaceIwantedtobewasaloneinthatcellwhereIcouldrefusetoeatthefoodtheygavemeandhopefully,eventually,myheartwouldstopbeatinglikeIthoughtyourshadthatnight
Turnsout,yourheartwasstillbeating.Itwasjustyourarmthathaddied.Icouldgointomoregruesomedetailsabouthowitwassohorriblycrushedandmangledduringthewreckthatthebloodflowwascompletelycutoffandthat’swhyItouchedyouandthoughtyouweredead,andhow,despiteallthat,youstillsomehowwokeupandgotoutofthecarandtriedtogetthehelpIneverbroughtbacktoyou.
IwouldhaverealizedthatifonlyIwouldhavestayedwithyoulonger,ortriedharder.IfIwouldn’thavepanickedandranandallowedtheadrenalinetopumpthroughmetothepointthatIwasn’tevenfunctioningwithinthebordersofreality.
IfIcouldhavebeenascalmasyoualwayswere,you’dstillbealive.We’dprobablyberaisingthedaughtertogetherthatyouneverevenknewwemade.We’dprobablyhavetwokidsbynow,oreventhree,andI’dmorethanlikelybeateacher,oranurse,orawriter,orwhateveryouwouldhaveundoubtedlygivenmethestrengthtorealizeIcouldbe.
MyGod,Imissyou.
Imissyousomuch,evenifitnevershowedinmyeyesinawayanyonewouldhavebeensatisfiedwith.Isometimeswonderifmymentalstateplayedahandinmysentencing.Iwasemptyinside,andI’msurethatemptinessshowedinmyeyesanytimeIhadtofacesomeone.
Ididn’tevencareaboutthefirstcourthearingtwoweeksafteryoudied.Thelawyertoldmewewouldfightit—thatallIhadtodowaspleadnotguiltyandhewouldprovethatIwasn’tofsoundmindthatnightandthatmyactionsweren’tintentionalandthatIwasvery,very,very,very,very,veryremorseful.
ButIdidn’tcarewhatthelawyersuggested.Iwantedtogotoprison.Ididn’twanttogobackoutintheworldwhereIwouldhavetolookatcarsagain,orgravelroads,orhearColdplayontheradio,orthinkaboutallthethingsI’dhavetodowithoutyou.
Lookingbackonitnow,IrealizeIwasinadeepanddangerousstateofdepression,butIdon’tthinkanyonenoticed,ormaybetherewasjustnoonewhocared.Everyonewas#TeamScotty,likewewereneverevenonthesameteam.Everyonewantedjustice,andsadly,justiceandempathycouldn’tbothfitinsidethatcourtroom.
Butwhat’sfunnyisIwasontheirside.Iwantedjusticeforthem.Iempathizedwiththem.Withyourmother,withyourfather,withallthepeopleinyourlifewhowerepackedinsidethatcourtroom.
Ipleadedguilty,tomylawyer’sdismay.Ihadto.WhentheystartedtalkingaboutwhatyouwentthroughafterIranawayfromyouthatnight,IknewIwouldratherdiethansitthroughatrialandlistentothedetails.Itwasalltoogruesome,likeIwaslivingsomehorrorstory,andnotmyownlife.
I’msorry,Scotty.
Ituneditalloutsomehowbyjustrepeatingthatphraseoverandoverinmyhead.I’msorry,Scotty.I’msorry,Scotty.I’msorry,Scotty.
Theyscheduledanothercourtdateforsentencing,anditwassometimebetweenthosetwocourtdatesthatIrealizedIhadn’thadmyperiodinawhile.Ithoughtmycyclewasmessedup,soIdidn’tmentionittoanyone.HadIknownIwasgrowingapartofyouinsidemesooner,I’mpositiveIwouldhavefoundthewilltogototrialandfightformyself.Fightforourdaughter.
Whenthesentencingdatecame,Itriednottolistenasyourmotherreadhervictimimpactstatement,buteverywordshespokeisstillengravedinmybones.
Ikeptthinkingaboutwhatyoutoldmeasyouwerecarryingmeupthestairsonyourbackthatnightinherhouse—abouthowtheywantedmorekids,butyouweretheirmiraclebaby.
That’sallIcouldthinkofinthatmoment.Ihadkilledtheirmiraclebaby,andnowtheyhadnoone,anditwasallmyfault.
Ihadplannedtogiveanallocutionstatement,butIwastooweakandtoobroken,sowhenitcametimeformetostandupandspeak,Icouldn’t.Physically,emotionally,mentally.Iwasstuckinthatchair,butItriedtostand.MylawyergrabbedmyarmtomakesureIdidn’tcollapse,andthenIthinkhemighthavereadsomethingoutloudforme,Idon’tknow.I’mstillnotclearonwhathappenedinthecourtroomthatday,becausethatdaywassomuchlikethatnight.AnightmarethatIwassomehowwatchingplayoutfromadistance.
Ihadtunnelvision.Iknewtherewerepeoplearoundme,andIknewthejudgewasspeaking,butmybrainwassoexhausted,Icouldn’tprocesswhatanyonewassaying.Evenwhenthejudgereadmysentence,Ihadnoreaction,becauseIcouldn’tabsorbit.Itwasn’tuntillater,afterIwasgivenanIVfordehydration,thatIfoundoutIhadbeensentencedtosevenyearsinprison,withtheeligibilityforparoleevensoonerthanthat.
“Sevenyears,”Irememberthinking.“That’sbullshit.Thatisn’tnearlylongenough.”
ItrynottothinkaboutwhatitmusthavebeenlikeforyouinthatcarafterIleftyouthere.Whatmustyouhavethoughtofme?DidyouthinkIhadbeenthrownfromthecar?Wereyoulookingforme?OrdidyouknowIhadleftyouthereallalone?
It’sthetimeyouspentalonethatnightthatIknowhauntsusall,becausewe’llneverknowwhatyouwentthrough.Whatyouwerethinking.Whoyouwerecallingoutto.Whatyourfinalminuteswerelike.
Ican’timagineamorepainfulwayforyourmotherandfathertobeforcedtoliveouttherestoftheirlives.
SometimesIwonderifthat’swhyDiemishere.MaybeDiemwasyourwayofmakingsureyourparentswouldbeokay.
Butinthatsamevein,nothavingDieminmylifewouldmeanit’syourwayofpunishingme.It’sokay.Ideserveit.
Iplantofightit,butIknowIdeserveit.
Everymorning,IwakeupandIsilentlyapologize.Toyou,toyourparents,toDiem.Throughouttheday,Isilentlythankyourparentsforraisingourdaughtersincewecan’t.Andeverynight,IapologizeagainbeforeIfallasleep.
I’msorry.Thankyou.I’msorry.
That’smyday,everyday,onrepeat.
I’msorry.Thankyou.I’msorry.
Mysentencewasnotjusticeconsideringthewayyoudied.Eternitywouldn’tbejustice.ButIhopeyourfamilyknowsmyactionsthatnightdidn’tcomefromaplaceofselfishness.Itwashorrorandshockandagonyandconfusionandterrorthatguidedmeawayfromyouthatnight.Itwasneverselfishness.
Iamnotabadperson,andIknowyouknowthat,whereveryouare.AndIknowyouforgiveme.It’sjustwhoyouare.Ionlyhopeonedayourdaughterwillforgivemetoo.Andyourparents.
Thenmaybe,bysomemiracle,Icanstarttoforgivemyself.
Untilthen,Iloveyou.Imissyou.
I’msorry.
Thankyou.
I’msorry.
Thankyou.
I’msorry.
Repeat.CHAPTERTHIRTY-FOUR
KENNA
Icloseoutthedocument.Ican’treadanymore.Myeyeshavefilledwithtears.I’msurprisedImadeitasfarasIdidbeforecrying,butItriednottoabsorbthewordsasIwasreadingthemaloud.
IsetmyphoneasideandIwipemyeyes.
Ledgerhasn’tmoved.He’sinthesameposition,leaningagainsthisdriver’ssidedoor,staringstraightahead.Myvoiceisnolongerfillinghistruck.Nowthere’sjustasilencethat’sthickanduninviting,tothepointthatLedgercan’tseemtotakeitanymore.Heswingsopenhisdoorandgetsoutofhistruck.Hewalkstothebackofitandbeginsunloadingthetablewithoutsomuchasaword.
Iwatchhimintherearviewmirror.Oncethetableisontheground,hegrabsoneofthechairs.There’sapausebeforehechucksthechairontothetable.ItlandswithaloudclankthatIfeelinmychest.
ThenLedgergrabsasecondchairandangrilytossesitacrosstheyard.He’ssomad.Ican’twatch.
Ileanforwardandpressmyhandsagainstmyface,regrettingeverreadingasinglewordofthattohim.Ihavenoideaifhe’smadatthesituation,orme,orifhe’sjustbacktherethrowingchairsasawaytoprocessfiveyears’worthofemotions.
“Fuck!”heyells,rightbeforeIhearthecrashofthefinalchair.Hisvoicereverberatesinthedensetreesthatsurroundhisproperty.
Thewholetruckshakeswiththeslamofhistailgate.
Thenthere’sjustsilence.Stillness.
TheonlythingIcanhearismyshallowandrapidbreathing.I’mscaredtogetoutofthetruckbecauseIdon’twanttohavetocomefacetofacewithhimifanyofthatoutburstwasdirectedatme.
IwishIknew.
IswallowalumpthatformsinmythroatwhenIhearhisfootstepscrunchingagainstthegravel.Hestopsatmydoorandheopensit.I’mstillleaningforwardwithmyfaceinmyhands,butIeventuallypullthemawayandhesitantlylookupathim.
He’sgrippingthetopofthetruck,leaninginmydoorway.Hisheadisrestingagainsttheinsideofhisraisedarm.Hiseyesarered,buthisexpressionisn’tfilledwithhatred.Itisn’tevenfilledwithanger.Ifanything,helooksapologetic,asifheknowshisoutburstscaredmeandhefeelsbad.
“I’mnotmadatyou.”Hepresseshislipstogetherandlooksdown.Heshakeshisheadgently.“It’sjustalottoprocess.”
Inod,butIcan’tspeakbecausemyheartispoundingandmythroatfeelsswollen,andI’mstillnotsurewhattosay.
He’sstilllookingdownwhenheletsgooftheroofofthetruck.Hiseyesmeetmineashereachesintothetruckandputshisrighthandonmyleftthighandhislefthandundermyrightknee.HepullsmetotheedgeofthepassengerseatsothatI’mfacinghim.
LedgerthentakesmyfaceinhishandsandtiltsitsothatI’mlookingupathim.Heblowsoutaslowbreath,likewhathe’sabouttosayishardtogetout.“I’msorryyoulosthim.”
Ican’tholdbackthetearsafterthat.It’sthefirsttimeanyonehaseveracknowledgedthatIlostScottythatnighttoo.Ledger’swordsmeanmoretomethanIthinkhecancomprehend.
Agonyspreadsacrosshisfaceashecontinues.“WhatifScottycanseehowwe’vebeentreatingyou?”Atearformsandspillsdownhischeek.Justonelonelytear,anditmakesmesosad.“I’mpartofeverythingthat’sbeentearingyoudownalltheseyears,andI’msorry,Kenna.I’msosorry.”
Iplacemyhandoverhischest,rightoverhisheart.“It’sokay.WhatIwrotedoesn’tchangeanything.Itwasstillmyfault.”
“It’snotokay.Noneofthisisokay.”He’scradlingmeinhisarmswithhischeekpressedagainstthetopofmyhead.Herunshisrighthandinsoothingcirclesovermyback.
Heholdsmelikethatforalongtime.Idon’twanthimtoletgo.
He’sthefirstpersonI’vebeenabletosharethefulldetailsofthatnightwith,andIwasn’tsureifitwouldmakethingsbetterorworse.Butthisfeelsbetter,somaybethatmeanssomething.
Ifeellikeaweighthasbeenlifted.It’snottheweightoftheanchorthatkeepsmetetheredunderthesurface—thatwon’tbelifteduntilIgettoholdmydaughter.Butasmallportionofmypainhasattachedtohissympathy,anditfeelslikehe’sphysicallyliftingmeupforair,allowingmeafewminutestobreathe.
Heeventuallypullsbackfarenoughtoassessme.Hemustseesomethingonmyfacethatmakeshimwanttocomfortmebecausehepressesasoftkisstomyforeheadwhilebrushingmyhairbacktenderly.Hekissesthetipofmynoseandthenplantsasoftpeckonmylips.
Idon’tthinkheexpectedmetokisshimback,butIfeelmoreforhiminthismomentthanIeverhave.Iclutchhisshirtinmyfistsandquietlybeghismouthforamuchfullerkiss.Hegivesittome.
Hiskissesfeellikebothforgivenessandpromises.Iimagineminefeellikeapologiestohim,becausehekeepscomingbackformoreeverytimeweseparate.
Ienduponmyback,andhe’shalfwayintohistruck,hoveringoverme,ourmouthspressedtogether.
Whenwe’reinthethickoffoggingupallthewindows,hepullsawayfrommyneck,andthere’sasplit-secondlookhegivesme.It’ssoquick;it’saflicker,aflash.ButIcantellhewantsmoreinthatquickglance,andsodoI,soInodandhepullsawayandopenshisglovebox.Hegrabsacondomandstartstoopenitwithhisteeth,bracinghimselfupwithonearm.Itakethisopportunitytoslidemypantiesoffandbunchmylongskirtuparoundmywaist.
Hegetsthepackageopen,butthenhepauses.
Thesecondsbegintodragashesilentlystaresdownatmewithcontemplation.
Thenhetossesthecondomasideandlowershimselfontopofmeagain.Hepressesasoftkissagainstmylips.Hisbreathishotagainstmycheekwhenhesays,“Youdeserveabed.”
Idragahandthroughhishair.“Youdon’thaveabedhere?”
Heshakeshishead.“Nope.”
“Notevenaninflatablemattress?”
“Ourfirsttwotimeswereonaninflatablemattress.Youdeservearealbed.Andno,Idon’thaveeitheronehere.”
“Howaboutahammock?”
Hesmilesatthat,butstillshakeshishead.
“Ayogamat?I’mnotpicky.”
Helaughsandkissesmychin.“Stopit,orwe’llendupfuckinginthistruck.”
Iwrapmylegsaroundhiswaist.“Andthat’sbadhow?”
Hegroansintomyneck,andthenIliftmyhipsandhegivesin.
Hegrabsthecondomandfinishesopeningit.Whilehe’sdoingthat,I’munzippinghisjeans.
Heslidesonthecondomandthenpullsmetotheedgeoftheseat.Histruckistheperfectheightforthis.Neitherofusevenhastoadjustourselvesorchangepositions.Hejustgripsmyhipsandpushesintome,andeventhoughitisn’tarealbed,it’sstilljustasgoodasitwaslastnight.CHAPTERTHIRTY-FIVE
LEDGER
Idon’tknowhowIfoundthestrengthtopullawayfromherlongenoughtogoinsideandgetthefloorsstarted.
Ifiguredshe’dsitbackandwatchme,orwriteinhernotebook,butassoonasItoldherIneededtogetsomeworkfinished,sheaskedhowshecouldhelp.
It’sbeenthreehours.We’vemostlyworked,withtheoccasionalshortbreaktorehydrateandkisssomemore,butwe’vefinishedmostofwhatwillbethelivingroomfloor.
We’dbedonebynowifsheweren’twearingthatshirtwiththatskirt.She’sbeencrawlingacrossthefloor,helpingmelocktheflooringintoplace,andeverytimeIlookatherIcanseestraightdownhershirt.I’msodistractedI’msurprisedIhaven’tinjuredmyself.
Wehaven’tdiscussedasinglethingofimportancesinceweexitedthetruck.It’sasifweleftalltheimportantstuffinsideitandchosetocarrynothingofweightwithusintothishouse.
It’sbeensuchaheavydayalready;I’mdoingeverythingIcantokeepthingslight.Webothare.Ihaven’tbroughtupthelettersincewecameinside.Shehasn’tmentionedtherestrainingorder,Ihaven’tmentionedMother’sDayunderthisroof,wehaven’ttalkedaboutwhatournewphysicalconnectionmeansorhowwe’repossiblygoingtonavigateit.Ithinkwebothknowtheconversationswillcome,butrightnowitfeelslikewe’reonthesamepage,andallwewantoutoftoday’spageistoridethehighofeachother.
IthinkKennaandIneededtoday.Kennaespeciallyneededtoday.Shealwayslookslikeshe’scarryingtheweightoftheworldonhershoulders,buttodayshelookslikeshe’sfloating.Shemakesgravityseempowerlessagainsther.
She’ssmiledandlaughedmoreinthelastfewhoursthanshehassincethedayImether.ItmakesmewonderifI’vebeenahugechunkoftheweightshe’sbeencarrying.
Kennalocksthepieceofwoodinplaceonherendandthenreachesforabottleofwater.Shecatchesmestaringatherchest,andshelaughs.“Yousuredohaveahardtimelookingmeintheeyenow.”
“IthinkIhaveanobsessionwithyourshirt.”SheusuallywearsT-shirts,butthisparticularshirtismadeoutofaslinkymaterialthatdipsdowninthefront,andnowthatshe’sbeenworkingforthreehours,it’sstartingtosticktoherinalltheplaceswhereshe’ssweating.“Thatshirtisfuckinglovely.”
Shelaughs,andIwanttokissheragain.Icrawlovertoher,andwhenIreachher,Ipressmymouthtoherssohardshefallsbackwardagainstthefloor.Ikissherthroughherlaughter,untilI’montopofher.
IhatethatIhavenofurniture.Wejustkeependinguponthehardwoodfloorwe’vebeeninstalling,andit’snice,butI’dgiveanythingtokissheronsomethingmorecomfortable.Somethingassoftashermouth.
“You’llneverfinishthesefloors,”shewhispers.
“Fuckthefloors.”Wekissforafewminutes,andwejustkeepgettingbetteratit.There’salotofpullingandtuggingandtasting,anditgetsalittlechaotic,andhershirtthatIlovesofuckingmuchendsupsomewhereonthefloornexttous.
I’madmiringherbranow,kissingherskinrightaboveit,whenshewhispers,“I’mscared.”Herhandsareinmyhair,andshekeepsthemtherewhenIliftupjustenoughtolookdownather.“Whatiftheyfindoutaboutusbeforeyouhaveachancetotellthem?We’rebeingreckless.”
Idon’twanthertothinkaboutthistodaybecausetodayisgood,andthey’reoutoftown,sothere’snopointindwellingonituntiltheyreturn.Ipressacomfortingkissagainstherforehead.“Worryingwon’tmakethesituationanybetter,”Isay.“They’reoutoftown.Whateverhappensisgoingtohappenwhetherwemakeoutrightnowornot.”
ShesmileswhenIsaythat.“Goodpoint.”Shewrapsherhandaroundmyneckandpullsmebacktohermouth.
Ilowermyselfontopofher,butthenwhisper,“What’stheworstthatcouldhappenifIhavetohideyouforever?You’veseenmycloset,Kenna.It’shuge.You’llloveitinthere.”
Shelaughsagainstmymouth.
“Icouldinstallaminifridgeandatelevisionforyou.Whentheycometovisit,youcanjustgotoyourclosetandpretendyou’reonvacation.”
“You’reterribleforjokingaboutthis,”shesays,butshe’slaughing.Ikissheruntilwearen’tlaughinganymore,andthenIslideoffheruntilI’mlyingnexttoher,leaningoverher.
It’sthefirsttimewe’vereallylookedateachotherwithoutfeelinglikewehavetolookaway.She’ssogoddamnflawless.
Idon’tsaythatoutloud,though,becauseIdon’twanttodiminishanyoftheotherwonderfulthingsaboutherbygivingherasuperficialcomplimentaboutherface.ItwouldtakeawayfromhowsmartIthinksheis,andhowcompassionate,resilient,andspiritedsheis.
Ilookawayfromherimpeccablefaceandslowlytracethecenterofhercleavageuntilshehaschillsrunningacrossherskin.“Ihavetofinishmyfloors.”Islidemyhandovertoherbreastandgentlysqueeze.“Stopdistractingmewiththesethings.Putyourshirtbackon.”
Shelaughsatthesametimesomeoneclearstheirthroatfromacrosstheroom.
Iquicklysitup,immediatelyscramblingtoblocktheviewofKennafromwhoeverthefuckisinmyhouse.
Ilookuptofindmyparentsstandinginthedoorway,lookingattheceiling.Kennaimmediatelyscramblesawayfrommeandreachesforhershirt.
“Oh,myGod,”shewhispers.“Whoarethey?”
“Myparents,”Imutter.Iswear,embarrassingmeistheirfavoritehobby.Iraisemyvoicesotheycanhearme.“Niceofyoutowarnmeyouwereshowinguptoday!”IhelpKennatoherfeet,andmyparentsarestilllookingateverythingbutusasIhelpherbackintohershirt.
Myfathersays,“Iclearedmythroatwhenwewalkedin.Howmuchwarningdoyouneed?”
I’mnotasmortifiedasIprobablyshouldberightnow.MaybeI’mgrowingimmunetotheirshenanigans.ButKennaisn’timmune.
Nowthatshe’sdressedandhalfwaystandingbehindme,myfathermotionsattheworkwe’vebeendoing.“Seemsyou’vemadealotofprogress…onthefloors.”
“Inmorewaysthanone,”mymothersays,amused.Kennaburiesherfaceagainstmyarm.“Who’syourfriend,Ledger?”Mymotherissmiling,butshehasalotofdifferentsmiles,andtheydon’talwaysmeansomethingsweet.Thissmileisherentertainedsmile.Herthis-is-so-much-funsmile.
“Thisis…um…”IhavenoideahowtointroduceKennatothem.Idon’tevenknowwhatnametouse.They’ddefinitelyrecognizehernameifIsaidKenna,butI’mnotexactlysuretheywon’trecognizeherface,solyingtothemwouldbepointless.“Thisis…mynewemployee.”IneedtoaskKennahowshewantsmetoconfrontthis.Iwrapmyarmaroundhershoulderandleadhertothebedroom.“Excuseuswhilewegocoordinateourlies,”Isayovermyshoulder.
KennaandImakeittothebedroom,outoftheirview,andshelooksatmewideeyed.“Youcan’ttellthemwhoIam,”shewhispers.
“Ican’tlietothem.Mymomwillprobablyrecognizeyouonceshegetsabetterlookatyou.Shewasatyoursentencing,andsheneverforgetsaface.Shealsoknowsyou’rebackintown.”
Kennalookslikeshe’sabouttofoldinonherself.Shestartstopace,andIcanseetheweightoftheworldbegintoreturntohershoulders.Shelooksupatmewithfearinhereyes.“Dotheyhateme?”
Thatquestiondigsatmyheart,mainlybecauseshe’sstartingtotearup.Andit’sonlyinthismomentthatIrealizesheassumeseveryonewhoknewScottymusthateher.“No.Ofcoursetheydon’thateyou.”
IrealizeasIsaythosewordsthatIdon’tnecessarilyknowifthey’retrue.MyparentswereheartbrokenwhenScottydied.HewasasimportanttothemasIamtoPatrickandGrace.ButI’mnotsurethatI’veeverhadaconversationwithmyparentsspecificallyabouttheiropinionofKenna.Itwasoverfiveyearsago.Ican’trememberwhatconversationswerehadorwhattheirthoughtswereoneverythingthathappened.Andwebarelydiscussitanymore.
KennacanseethatI’mprocessing,andshegrowsalittlepanicked.“Can’tyoujusttakemehome?Icansneakoutthebackandmeetyouatyourtruck.”
WhethermyparentsrealizewhoKennaisornot,Kennadoesn’tknowwhatkindofpeoplemyparentsare.Shedoesn’trealizeshehasnothingtobeconcernedabout.
Icupherfacewithmyhands.“Kenna.They’remyparents.Iftheyrecognizeyou,they’llhavemybacknomatterwhat.”Thosewordscalmheralittlebit.“I’llintroduceyouasNicolefornow,andthenI’lltakeyouhomeanddealwiththemandthetruthlater.Okay?They’regoodpeople.Soareyou.”
Shenods,soIgiveheraquickkissandgrabherhandandleadheroutofthebedroom.They’reinthekitchennow,inspectingallthethingsRomanandIhaveaddedsincetheywerelastouthere.Whentheynoticeourreturn,theybothcasuallyleanagainstthecounters,anticipatingthisintroduction.
IwaveahandatKenna.“ThisisNicole.”Iwaveahandatmyparents.“Mymother,Robin.Myfather,Benji.”
Kennasmilesandshakestheirhands,butthenshesidlesbackuptomysidelikeshe’sscaredtomovetoofarawayfromme.Igrabherhandthat’satherside,andImoveitbehindherbackandsqueezeittoprovideherwithalittlecomfort.
“It’ssuchapleasantsurprisethatyouaren’talone,”mymothersays.“Wethoughtyou’dbeoutheremopingbyyourselftoday.”
I’mscaredtoask.“WhywouldIbemoping?”
Mymotherlaughsandturnstomyfather.“Youowemetenbucks,Benji.”Sheholdsoutherhand,andmyfatherpullsouthiswalletandslapsaten-dollarbillinherpalm.Sheshovesitinthepocketofherjeans.“Webetonwhetheryou’devenrememberyouweresupposedtobeleavingforyourhoneymoontoday.”
WhyamInotsurprised?“WhichoneofyoubetthatI’dforgetMother’sDay?”
Mymotherraisesherhand.
“Ididn’tforget.Checkyouremail.IsentagiftcardbecauseIhadnoideawheretosendflowerstothisweek.”
Mymothertakestheten-dollarbilloutofherpocketandhandsitbacktomyfather.Shewalksovertomeandfinallygivesmeahug.“Thankyou.”Shedoesn’tlookatKennabecauseherattentionisstolenmidhugbythepatiodoor.“Oh,wow!ItlooksevenbetterthanIimagined!”Shereleasesmeandpassesustogoplaywiththeaccordion-styledoor.
MyfatherisstillfocusedonmeandKenna.Icantellhe’sgoingtoattempttobepoliteandincludeherinconversation,butIknowhowmuchshewantstobeignoredrightnow.
“Nicolehastogettowork,”Iblurtout.“Ineedtogiveheraride,andthenIcanmeetyoubothatthehouse.”
Mymothermakesahmphsoundbehindme.“Wejustgothere,”shesays.“Iwantedatourofeverythingyou’vedone.”
Myfather’sattentionisstillonKenna.“Whatdoyoudo,Nicole?Besides…”Hewavesahandtowardme.“BesidesLedger.”
Kennagaspsquietlyandsays,“Wow.Okay.Well,Idon’t…do…Ledger.”
Isqueezeherhandagain,becausethatisnotwhatmyfathermeant.Butifwe’rebeingtechnical…“Ithinkhemeanswhatdoyoudootherthan…work…forme.”She’slookingatmeblankly.“BecauseIsaidyou’remyemployeeearlier,butthenIjustliedandsaidyouhavetogotowork,andtheyknowmybarisclosedonSundays,soheassumesyouhaveadifferentjobbesidesthebar,andhesaidwhatdoyoudobesides…”I’mramblingnow,andit’sjustmakingthemomentworsebecausemyparentscanhearthisconversation,andIknowtheyareenjoyingtheshitoutofit.
Mymotherhasreturnedtomyfather’sside,andshe’sgrinningwithdelight.
“Pleasetakemehome,”Kennapleads.
Inod.“Yeah.Thisistorture.”
“It’ssuchatreatforme,though,”mymothersays.“IthinkthismightbemyfavoriteMother’sDayyet.”
“Andherewewerethinkinghewasgoingtobesadbecausehedidn’tgetmarried,”myfathersays.“WhatdoyouthinkhehasinstoreforFather’sDay?”
“Icanonlyimagine,”mymothersays.
“Youtwoaremortifying.I’malmostthirty.Whenwillthisstop?”
“You’retwenty-eight,”mymothersays.“That’snotalmostthirty.Twenty-nineisalmostthirty.”
“Let’sgo,”IsaytoKenna.
“No,bringhertodinner,”mymotherbegs.
“She’snothungry.”IleadKennaoutthedoor.“I’llmeetyoubothatthehouse!”
We’realmosttomytruckwhenIrealizewhatleavingmyparentsalonemeans.Ipauseandsay,“I’llberightback.”IpointtothetrucksoKennaknowsshecangoaheadwithoutme.Iturnaroundandwalkbacktothehouse,andthenIleaninatthedoorway.“Donothavesexinmyhouse.”
“Oh,comeon,”myfathersays.“Wewouldnever.”
“I’mserious.Thisismynewhouse,andI’llbedamnedifyoutwochristenit.”
“Wewon’t,”mymothersays,shooingmeaway.
“We’regettingtoooldforthatanyway,”myfathersays.“Soold.Oursonisalmostthirty.”
Istepoutofthedoorwayandmotionforthemtoleave.“Getout.Go.Idon’ttrusteitherofyou.”Iwaitforthemtojoinmeoutside,andthenIlockthefrontdoor.Ipointtowardtheircar.“I’llmeetyouatthehouse.”
Iwalktomytruckandignoretheirchatter.Iwaitformyparentstobackout,andthenKennaandIbothsighsimultaneously.“Theycanbealotsometimes,”Iadmit.
“Wow.Thatwas…”
“Typicalofthem.”Iglanceoverather,andshe’ssmiling.
“Itwasembarrassing,butIkindoflikedthem,”shesays.“ButI’mstillnothavingdinnerwiththem.”
Idon’tblameher.Iputmytruckinreverseandthenpointtothemiddleoftheseat.Nowthatwe’veshatteredwhateverlinewehaddrawninthesand,Iwanthertobeasclosetomeasshecanget.Sheslidesacrosstheseatuntilshe’srightnexttome,andIputmyhandonherkneeasIdriveawayfromthehouse
“Youdothatalot,”shesays.
“Idowhat?”
“Youpointallthetime.It’srude.”Shesoundsamusedratherthanoffended.
“Idon’tpointallthetime.”
“Youdotoo.InoticeditthefirstnightIcameintoyourbar.It’swhyIletyoukissme,becauseIthoughtitwashot.Thewayyoukeptpointingatthings.”
Igrin.“Youjustsaiditwasrude.Youthinkrudeishot?”
“No.Ithinkkindnessishot.Mayberudewasthewrongterm.”Sheleansherheadagainstmyshoulder.“Ifindyourpointingsexy.”
“Doyou?”Iletgoofherkneeandpointatamailbox.“Seethatmailbox?”ThenIpointatatree.“Lookatthattree.”Itaponmybrakesaswecloseinonastopsign,andIpointatthesign.“Lookatthat,Kenna.What’sthat?Isthatafuckingpigeon?”
Shetiltsherheadandlooksatmecuriously.WhenIcometoafullstopatthesign,shesays,“Scottyusedtosaythatsometimes.Whatdoesitmean?”
Ishakemyhead.“Itwasjustsomethingheusedtosay.”Patrickistheonlyonewhoknowswherethatphraseoriginated,andeventhoughthere’snohugesecretorstorybehindit,Istillwanttoholdontoit.Kennadoesn’tpressme.ShejustliftsupandkissesmebeforeIpulloutontothestreet.She’ssmiling,anditfeelssogoodtoseehersmilelikethis.Ilookbackattheroadandputmyhandonherkneeagain.
Sherestsherheadagainstmyshoulder,andafteraquietmoment,shesays,“IwishIcouldhaveseenyouwithScotty.Ibetyoutwowerefuntogether.”
Ilovethatsheadmittedthatoutloud.Itfeelsgoodtohear,becauseatsomepoint,we’reallgoingtohavetomovepastthefactthatScottydiedthewayhedid.IthinkI’matapointwhereIwanthismemorytobeaccompaniedbyonlygoodfeelings.Iwanttobeabletotalkabouthimwithpeople,especiallywithhisfather,butinawaythatdoesn’tmakePatrickcry.
WeallknewScotty,butweallknewhimindifferentways.Weallcarrydifferentmemoriesofhim.IthinkitwouldbegoodforPatrickandGracetogettohearthememoriesKennahasofScottythatnoneoftherestofushave.
“IwishIcouldhaveseenyouwithScotty,”Iadmit.
Kennakissesmyshoulderandthenrestsherheadthereagain.It’squietuntilIliftmyhandandpointataguyonabicycle.“Lookatthatbike.”Ipointatanupcominggasstation.“Lookatthosegaspumps.”Ipointatacloud.“Lookatthatcloud.”
Kennareleaseslaughtermixedwithagroan.“Stop.You’reruiningthesexinessofit.”
IreluctantlydroppedKennaoffatherapartmenttwohoursago.Itmighthavetakenfifteenminutesformetostopkissingherlongenoughtowalkbacktomytruck,butIdidn’twanttoleave.Iwantedtospendtherestoftheevening,andpossiblyeventhenightwithher,butmyparentsareassholeswhodon’tbelieveinschedules,andthey’realwaysshowingupattheworsttimes.
Atleastthistimeitwasinthemiddleoftheday.Theyonceshowedupat3:00a.m.,andIwokeuptomyfatherblastingNirvanainthebackyardandcookingsteaksonthegrill.
Myfathermadeburgerstonight,andwejustfinishedeatingdinneraboutanhourago.IwaitedthroughoutthewholedinnerforthemtoaskmeaboutKenna.OrNicole,rather.Butneitherofthembroughtitup.Allwe’vetalkedabouttonighthasbeentheirlatestadventuresontheroadandmylatestadventureswithDiem
TheyweredisappointedtofindoutDiemandtheLandrysareoutoftown.Isuggestedtheycallaheadthenexttimetheyfeellikedroppingin.Itwouldmakeiteasieronallofus.
MyparentshavealwaysgottenalongwithScotty’sparents,buttheLandryshadScottylaterinlife,sothey’realittleolderthanmyparents.Iwouldsaythey’remorematurethanmyparents,butimmatureisn’ttherighttermtodescribemyparents.They’rejustalittlemorecarefreeandunstructured.ButeventhoughIwouldn’tcategorizethefourofthemasactivelyclose,theyshareabondbecauseofScottyandme.
AndbecauseDiemislikeadaughtertome,she’sbeenlikeagranddaughtertomyparents.WhichmeansDiemisimportanttothem,andtheywantthebestforher
Whichisprobablywhy,assoonasmyfathergoestothebackyardtocleanupthegrill,mymotherslidesontothebarstoolandgivesmeoneofhermanysmiles.Thisisher“Youhaveasecret,andyoubetterspillit”smile.
Iignorehersmile,andher,andcontinuetowashtherestofthedishes.Butmymothersays,“Getoverhereandtalktomebeforeyourfathercomesbackinside.”
Idrymyhandsandsitacrossthebarfromher.She’slookingatmelikeshealreadyknowsmysecrets.Itdoesn’tsurpriseme.WhenIsaymymotherneverforgetsaface,Idon’tsaythatlightly.It’slikeasuperpower.
“DotheLandrysknow?”sheasks.
Iplaydumb.“Knowwhat?”
Herheadliltstotheside.“Iknowwhosheis,Ledger.Irecognizedherthedayshewalkedintoyourbar.”
Wait.What?“Thedayyouweredrunk?”
Shenods.NowthatIthinkaboutit,IrememberherstaringatKennawhenshewalkedintomybarthatday.Whywouldshenotsayanythingtomeaboutthat?Shedidn’tevenbringitupwhenIspoketoheronthephoneafewdayslaterandtoldherKennawasbackintown.
“Youtoldmeshewasleavingtownlasttimewetalked,”shesays.
“Sheis.”IfeelguiltywhenIsaythatbecauseI’mhopingwitheverythinginmethatitisn’ttrue.“Orshewas.Idon’tknowanymore.”
“DoPatrickandGraceknowthetwoofyouare…”
“No.”
Mymotherblowsoutasoftbreath.“Whatareyoudoing?”
“Idon’tknow,”Isayhonestly.
“Thisisn’tgoingtoendwell.”
“Iknow.”
“Doyouloveher?”
Iblowoutaheavy,slowrushofair.“Idefinitelydon’thateheranymore.”
Shetakesasipofherwineandgivesthisconversationamomenttosettle.“Well.Ihopeyoudotherightthing.”
Iliftaneyebrow.“What’stherightthing?”
Mymothershrugs.“Idon’tknow.Ijusthopeyoudoit.”
Ireleaseashortlaugh.“Thanksforthenonadvice.”
“That’swhatI’mherefor.Totiptoearoundthisthingtheycallparenting.”Shesmilesandreachesacrossthebartosqueezemyhand.“Iknowyou’dratherbewithherrightnow.Wedon’tmindifyouabandonustonight.”
There’samomentofhesitationonmypart,notbecauseIdon’twanttogotoKenna’splace,butbecauseI’msurprisedmymotherknowswhosheis,yetshe’sstillokaywithit.
“DoyoublameKenna?”Iaskherafterashortpause.
Mymotherlooksatmehonestly.“Scottywasn’tmychild,soIfeltsorryforeveryoneinvolved.EvenKenna.ButifwhathappenedtoScottyhadhappenedtoyou,Ican’tsaythatIwouldmakeadifferentchoicethanPatrickandGrace.Ithinkthere’sroominatragedythissizeforeveryonetobebothrightandwrong.However,”shesays,“I’myourmother.Andifyouseesomethingspecialinher,thenIknowtheremustbesomethingspecialinher.”
Iletherwordsruminate,butthenIgrabmykeysandmycellphoneandIkissheronthecheek.“Willyoubeheretomorrow?”
“Yeah,we’restayingtwoorthreedays.I’lltellyourdadyousaidgoodnight.”CHAPTERTHIRTY-SIX
KENNA
I’mintheshowerwhenIhearaknockatmyfrontdoor.Itstartlesmebecauseit’smorelikeanincessantpounding.LadyDianawouldn’tknocklikethat,andshe’stheonlypersonwhohaseverbeenhereotherthanLedger.
I’vejustrinsedtheconditioneroutofmyhair,soIopenthebathroomdoorandyell,“Holdon!”IfranticallytrytodrymyselfandmyhairwithatowelasmuchasIcansoIdon’tdripwaterallthewaytomyfrontdoor.
IpullonaT-shirtandapairofpanties,andthengrabmyjeansandheadtothedoortocheckthepeephole.WhenIseethatit’sLedger,Iunlockthedoorandthenstartpullingonthejeansashemakeshiswayinside.
HeseemsjarredthatI’mnotfullydressed.HejuststandsthereandstaresatmeuntilIgetmyjeansbuttoned.Ismile.“Youditchedyourparents?”
Hepullsmeinforakiss,butI’mcaughtoffguard,becausethiskissismorethanjustakiss.There’ssomuchbehindthewayhismouthpressesagainstmine,it’slikeit’sbeenweekssincehe’sseenme,butit’sonlybeenaboutthreehours.
“Yousmellsogood,”hesays,pressinghisfaceintomywethair.Heslideshishandsdownmythighsandthenliftsme,wrappingmylegsaroundhiswaist.Hewalksustothecouchandlowersusontoit.
“Thisisn’tabed,”Itease.
Henipsatmybottomlipwithhisteeth.“It’sokay,I’mnotasthoughtfulasItriedtobeearliertoday.I’dhavesexwithyoujustaboutanywhererightnow.”
“Ifthisishappening,youmightwanttomovemetothatinflatablemattress,becausethiscouchisquestionable.”
Hedoesn’tmissabeat.Heliftsmeanddropsmeonthemattress,butashe’skissingmyneck,Ivybeginstomeow.SheclimbsupontothemattressandstartslickingLedger’shand.Hestopskissingmeandlooksatmykitten.
“Thisisawkward.”
“I’llputherinthebathroom.”Imovethekittentothebathroomandlockherinwithherfoodandwater.IlowermyselfontopofLedgerthistime.Istraddlehim,sittingup,andherunshishandsupanddownmythighswhilehiseyesscrolloverme.
“Areyoustillfeelinggoodaboutthis?”heasks.
“Aboutwhat?Us?”
Henods.
“I’veneverfeltgoodaboutus.Usisaterribleidea.”
Hegrabsthefrontofmyshirtandpullsmedownuntilourmouthsarealmosttouching.Herollshisotherhandovermyass.“I’mserious.”
Ismile,becausehecan’texpectmetobeseriouswhilealsopressinghimselfagainstmelikethis.“AreyoutryingtohavealegitimateconversationwhileI’montopofyou?”
Heflipsusoversothathe’shoveringovermenow.“Ibroughtcondoms.Iwanttotakeoffyourclothes.Iwanttohavesexwithyouagain,butIalsofeellikeIshouldhaveaconversationwiththeLandrysbeforethisgoesanyfurther.”
“It’sjustsex.”
Hesighsandthensays,“Kenna.”Hejustsaysmynamelikehe’slecturingme,butthenhepresseshismouthtomine,andit’ssweetandsoftandsoverydifferentfromeverykissthathascomebeforeit.
Iunderstandwhathe’ssaying,butIthinkI’mtiredofcirclingaroundthisdiscussionbecauseI’dliketonotthinkaboutitforawhile.EverytimeI’mwithhim,mysituationisallIthinkabout.It’sarduous,andtobehonest,it’sscary.
Iliftahandtohischeekandbrushapieceofcouchfuzzaway.“YoureallywanttoknowhowIfeel?”
“Yes.That’swhyI’masking.”
“Webothkeepgoingbackandforth.Youworry,andthenIworry,andthenyouworry,buttheworrywon’tsolvethis.Ifeellikethisisn’tgoingtoendwell.Ormaybeitwill.Eitherway,welikebeingwitheachother,sountilitendswellorendsterribly,Idon’treallywanttowasteourtimetogethergoingincirclesaboutafuturewecan’tpredict.Sojustgetmenakedandmakelovetome.”
Ledgershakeshishead,buthe’ssmiling.“It’slikeyoureadmymind.”
Maybe,buteverythingIjustsaidoutloudisn’tatallwhatIfeel.
WhatIfeelisterrified.Iknowinmyheartthatthere’snothinghecansaythatwillchangetheLandrys’mindsaboutme.Theyaren’tevenwrong.Thedecisionthey’remakingforthemselvesistherightdecisionbecauseit’sthedecisionthatwillbringthemthemostpeace.
I’mgoingtorespectthatdecision.
Aftertonight.
Butrightnow,I’mgoingtobeselfishandfocusontheonepersoninthisworldwhoseesmethewayIwisheveryonecouldseeme.AndifthatmeansIhavetolietohimandpretendthisstorycanpossiblyhaveahappyending,thenthat’swhatI’lldo.
Ipulloffhisshirt,andthenmyshirtisnext,followedbyourjeans,andwithinseconds,we’rebothnakedandhe’sputtingonacondom.Idon’tknowwhywe’rerushing,butwe’redoingeverythingwithurgency.Kissing,touching,gaspingasifwe’rerunningoutoftime.
Hekisseshiswaydownmybodyuntilhisheadisbetweenmylegs.Hekissesboththighsbeforeslowlyseparatingmewithhistongue.ThesensationissostrongIdigmyheelsintothemattressandslideupit,sohehastogripmythighsandpullmybodybacktohismouth.Ireachforsomethingtograbonto,butthere’snotevenablanket,soIputmyhandsinhishairandkeepthemthere,movinginrhythmwithhishead.
Itdoesn’ttakemelongtofinish,andasthesensationsrollthroughmeandmylegstense,Ledgerintensifiesthemotionofhistongue.ItrembleandmoanuntilIcan’ttakeitanymore.Ineedhimbackinsideme.Ipullonhishairuntilhecrawlsupmybody,andthistimehepushesintomeinonequickmovement.
Hethrustssohard,overandover,untilwesomehowenduponthefloornexttotheinflatablemattress,coveredinsweatandoutofbreathbythetimeit’sover.
Wewindupintheshowertogether,mybackagainsthischest.Thewaterisrunningoverusasheholdsmequietly.
Thethoughtofsayinggoodbyetohimatsomepointmakesmewanttocurlupandcry,soItrytoconvincemyselfthatI’mwrongabouttheLandrys.Itrytolietomyselfbysayingthingswillworkoutbetweenus.Maybenottomorrow,maybenotthismonth,buthopefullyLedgerisright.Maybeoneofthesedayshecanchangetheirminds.
Maybehe’llsaysomethingtothemthatwillplantaseed,andthatseedwillgrowandgrowuntiltheystarttofeelempathyforme.
Whateverhappens,I’llalwaysbegratefultohimfortheforgivenesshegaveme,whetherIgetitfromanyoneelseornot.
Iturnaroundandfacehim;thenIliftmyhandandtouchhischeek.“Iwouldhavefallenforyouevenifyoudidn’tloveDiem.”
Hisexpressionshifts,andthenhekissestheinsideofmypalm.“Ifellforyoubecauseofhowmuchyoudo.”
Dammit,Ledger.
Ikisshimforthat.CHAPTERTHIRTY-SEVEN
LEDGER
It’sfunnyhowlifeworksout.Ishouldbewakingupinanoceanfrontresortnexttomybrand-newwife,celebratingourhoneymoonrightnow.
Instead,I’mwakinguponaninflatablemattressinabarrenapartment,nexttoawomanI’vespentsomanyyearsangryat.Ifsomeonewouldhaveshowedmethismomentinacrystalballlastyear,Iwouldhavewonderedwhatcouldpossiblyhavehappenedthatwouldcausemetomakeastringofhorribledecisions.
ButnowthatI’minthismoment,IrealizeI’mherebecauseIfinallyhaveclarity.I’veneverfeltmorecertainaboutthechoicesI’vemadeinmylifethanIdotoday.
Idon’twantKennatowakeupyet.Shelookspeaceful,andIneedamomenttoformulateaplanfortoday.Iwanttoconfrontthissoonerratherthanlater.
I’mscaredofwhattheoutcomewillbe,soahugepartofmewantstowaitacoupleofweekssoKennaandIcanliveinsecretbliss,fullofhopethatthingsaregoingtogoherway.
Butthelongerwewait,thesloppierwe’regoingtoget.ThelastthingIwantisforPatrickandGracetofindoutI’vebeenlyingtothembeforeIcancalmlyconfrontthemwithmythoughts.
Kennamovesherarmtocoverhereyesandthenrollsontoherside.Shetucksherselfagainstmeandmoans.“It’ssobrightinhere.”Hervoiceisraspyandsexy.
Irunmyhanddownherwaist,overherhip,andthengripherthigh,pullingherlegoverme.Ikisshercheek.“Sleepwell?”
Shelaughsagainstmyneck.“Sleepwell?Wehadsexthreetimesandthenhadtoshareafull-sizeinflatablemattress.IthinkIsleptanhour,tops.”
“It’safternine.Yousleptmorethananhour.”
Kennasitsup.“What?Ithoughtthesunjustcameup.”Shetossesthecoversaside.“Iwassupposedtobeatworkbynine.”
“Oh,shit.I’llgiveyouaride.”Isearchformyclothes.Ifindmyshirt,butKenna’skitteniscurledupasleepinsideofit.Iliftherandsetheronthecouchandthenstarttopullonmyjeans.Kennaisinthebathroombrushingherteeth.Thedoorisopen,andshe’scompletelynaked,soIfreezeinthemiddleofgettingdressedbecauseshe’sgotaperfectass.
Sheseesmestaringinthemirrorandlaughs,thenkicksthebathroomdoorshutwithherfoot.“Getdressed!”
Ifinishgettingdressed,butthenIjoinherinthebathroombecauseIwantsomeofhertoothpaste.Shescootsasideasshe’srinsing,andIstarttosqueezesometoothpasteonmyfinger,butsheopensadrawerandpullsoutapackagethathasatoothbrushinit.
“Iboughtadoublepack.”Shehandsmetheextratoothbrushandthenleavesthebathroom.
Weeventuallymeetatthefrontdoor.“Whattimedoyougetoffwork?”Ipullhertome.Shesmellslikefreshmint.
“Five.”Wekiss.“UnlessIgetfired.”Wekisssomemore.“Ledger,Ihavetogo,”shemuttersagainstmymouth.Butwekissagain.
Wemakeittothegrocerystorebyaquartertoten.She’sforty-fiveminuteslate,butbythetimewestopsayinggoodbye,she’sfiftyminuteslate.
“I’llbehereatfive,”Isayasshegoestocloseherdoor.
Shesmiles.“JustbecauseIputoutnowdoesn’tmeanyouhavetobemychauffeur.”
“Iwasyourchauffeurbeforeyouputout.”
Sheclosesthedoorbutthencomesaroundtomysideofthetruck.Ialreadyhavemywindowdown,andsheleansinandgivesmeonefinalkiss.Whenshepullsback,shepausesforamoment.Itlookslikeshewantstosaysomething,butshedoesn’t.Shejuststaressilentlyforafewseconds,likesomethingisonthetipofhertongue,butthenshebacksawayandrunsintothestore.
I’mamilefrommyhousewhenIrealizeI’vehadaridiculoussmileonmyfaceduringthewholedrive.Iwipeitaway,butit’sthekindofsmilethatreappearswitheverythoughtIhaveabouther.Andallmythoughtsthismorninghavebeenabouther.
Myparents’RVisoccupyingtheentiredriveway,soIparkinfrontofthehouse.
GraceandPatrickarebackalready.He’soutfrontwateringhisyard,andDiemissittingintheirdrivewaywithabucketofchalk.
Iforcethesmileoffmyface.Notthatasimplesmilewouldgiveawayeverythingthat’shappenedinthelasttwenty-fourhours,butPatrickknowsmewellenoughthathemightthinkmybehaviorisduetoagirl.Thenhe’llaskquestions.ThenI’llhavetolietohimevenmorethanIhavebeen.
DiemturnsaroundwhenIclosemytruckdoor.“Ledger!”shelooksbothwaysbeforemeetingmeinthemiddleofthestreet.Iscoopherupandgiveherabighug.
“DidyouhavefunatGrandmaNoNo’shouse?”
“Yeah,wefoundaturtle,andNoNoletmekeepit.It’sinmyroominaglassthing.”
“Iwanttosee.”Iputherbackdown,andshegrabsmyhand,butbeforeweevenreachthegrass,PatrickandImakeeyecontact.
Myheartimmediatelysinks.
Hisfaceishard.There’snohello.It’sthemostresignedI’veeverseenhim
HiseyesfalltoDiem,andhesays,“Youcanshowhimyourturtleinaminute.IneedtotalktoLedger.”
Diemcan’tfeelthetensionradiatingfromhim,whichiswhysheskipsintothehousewhileI’mfrozenattheedgeofthegrassPatrickhasbeenmindlesslywatering.Whenthefrontdoorcloses,hedoesn’tsayanything.Hejustcontinuestowaterthegrass,likehe’swaitingformetoadmitmyfuckup.
I’mworriedformorereasonsthanone.Hisdemeanorismakingitobvioussomethingiswrong,butifIsaysomethingfirst,Icouldbeoffthemark.Anythingcouldbewrong.Maybehismotherisill,ortheyreceivedbadnewshedoesn’twantDiemtohear.
Thewayhe’sactingcouldbecompletelyunrelatedtoKenna,soIwaitforhimtosaywhateveritisthatseemssohardforhimtosay.
Hereleasesthenozzleanddropsthewaterhose.Hewalksclosertome,andeachofhisdeliberatestepsisalignedwiththepoundingofmyheartbeat.Hestopswalkingaboutthreefeetfromme,butmyheartbeatsjustkeeppounding.Idon’tlikehowsilentitisbetweenus.Icantellhe’sabouttoconfrontme,andPatrickisnotaconfrontationalperson.Thefactthathe’snotcirclingaroundwhathewantstosaywithaWelphasmemorethanconcerned.
Somethingisbotheringhim,andit’sserious.Iattempttoalleviatethetensionbycasuallysaying,“Whendidyouguysgetback?”
“Thismorning,”hesays.“Wherewereyou?”Heasksitlikehe’smyfatherandhe’spissedIsnuckoutinthemiddleofthenight.
Idon’tevenknowwhattosay.I’msearchingforwhateverliewouldfitthismomentthebest,butnoneofthemseemtofit.Ican’tsayIwasparkedinmygarage,becausemyparents’RVisintheway.Ican’tsayIwashome,becauseobviouslymytruckhasn’tbeenhere.
Patrickshakeshishead.Hisfaceisfilledwithgalaxy-sizedisappointment.
“Hewasyourbestfriend,Ledger.”
Itrytohidemyinhale.Ishovemyhandsinmypocketsandlookatmyfeet.Whyishesayingthis?Idon’tknowwhattosay.Idon’tknowwhatheknows.Idon’tknowhowheknows.
“Wesawyourtruckatherapartmentthismorning.”Hisvoiceislow,andhe’snotlookingatme.It’slikehecan’tstandthepersonstandingacrossfromhim.“Iwascertainitwasacoincidence.Thatsomeonewhohasatruckjustlikeyourslivedinthebuilding,butwhenIpulledupnexttoittogetabetterlook,IsawDiem’scarseat.”
“Patrick—”
“Areyousleepingwithher?”Hisvoiceismonotoneandflatinanunnervingway.
Ireachanarmovermychestandsqueezemyshoulder.Mychestissotightitfeelslikemylungsareinavisegrip.“Ithinkthethreeofusneedtositdownandtalkaboutthis.”
“Areyousleepingwithher?”herepeats,muchlouderthistime.
Irunahanddownmyface,frustratedthatthisishowit’scomingtoahead.IjustneededafewhoursandIwasgoingtotalktothemaboutit.Itwouldhavebeensomuchbetterthatway.“We’veallbeenwrongabouther.”Isayitunconvincingly,becauseIknownothingIcouldsayrightnowisgoingtobeabsorbedbyhim.Notwhenhe’sthisangry
Hereleasesahalf-heartedlaugh,butthenhisfacejustfallsintothesaddestfrown,andhiseyebrowsdrawapart.“Havewe?We’vebeenwrong?”Hetakesastepclosertome,finallylookingmeintheeyes.Hisexpressionisfullofbetrayal.“Didshenotleavemysontodie?Didyourbestfriendnotspendhislasthoursonthisearthaloneonadesertedroadbarelybreathingbecauseofher?”Atearescapes,andheangrilywipesitaway.He’ssoangryhehastoblowoutasteadybreathtokeepfromscreamingatme.
“Itwasanaccident,Patrick.”Myvoiceisalmostawhisper.“ShelovedScotty.Shepanickedandmadethewrongchoice,butshepaidforthatchoice.Atwhatpointcanwestopblamingher?”
Hechoosestoanswerthatquestionwithhisfist.Hepunchesmehardinthemouth.
Idonothing,becauseIfeelsoguiltythattheyfoundoutthiswayI’dlethimpunchmeamillionmoretimes,andIstillwouldn’tdefendmyself.
“Hey!”Myfatherisrunningoutofmyhouse,headingtowardus.Patrickhitsmeagain,rightwhenGracerunsoutherfrontdoor.MyfatherpusheshimselfbetweenusbeforePatrickcangetinathirdpunch.
“Whatthehell,Pat?”mydadyells.
Patrickdoesn’tlookathim.He’slookingatmewithoutevenanounceofregret.ItakeastepforwardtopleadwithhimbecauseIdon’twantthisconversationtoendnowthatit’sfinallyoutthere,butDiemrunsoutside.Patrickdoesn’tseeherbeforehetriestolungeatmeagain.
“ForChrist’ssake!”mydadyells,pushinghimback.“Stopit!”
Diemstartscryingwhenshetakesinthecommotion.GracereachesforherandstartstotakeDieminthehouse,butDiemwantsme.She’sreachingforme,andIdon’tknowwhattodo.
“IwanttogowithLedger,”Diempleads.
Gracehalfturnsandlooksatme.IcantellbythelookofbetrayalonherfacethatshemightevenbehurtingmorethanPatrickisrightnow.
“Grace,please.Justhearmeout.”
SheturnsherbacktomeanddisappearswithDieminsideherhouse.IcanhearDiemcry,evenafterthedoorcloses,andIfeellikeshejustrippedopenmychest.
“Don’tyoudaretrytoputyourchoicesonus,”Patricksays.“Youcanchoosethatwoman,oryoucanchooseDiem,butdon’tyoudaretrytomakeusfeelguiltyforachoicewecametopeacewithfiveyearsago.Youdidthistoyourself,Ledger.”Patrickturnsandwalksbackinside.
Myfatherreleasesmyarm.Hemovessothathe’sinfrontofme,andI’msurehe’sgoingtotrytocalmmedown,butIdon’tgivehimtheopportunity.IwalktomytruckandIleave.
Igotothebar,butinsteadofgoinginside,IbeatonthedoortoRoman’sstairwell.Ibeatconstantlyuntilheopensit.Helooksconfused,butthenheseesmybustedlip,andhesays,“Ah,hell.”Hestepsasideandthenfollowsmeupthestairstohisapartment.
Igotothekitchenandwetsomepapertowelstowipethebloodfrommymouth.
“Whathappened?”
“IspentthenightwithKenna.TheLandrysfoundout.”
“Patrickdidthat?”
Inod.
Roman’seyesnarrow.“Youdidn’thithimback,didyou?He’slikesixtyyearsold.”
“Ofcoursenot,butnotbecauseofhisage.He’sasstrongasIam.Ididn’thithimbackbecauseIdeservedthis.”Ipullthepapertowelfrommymouth,andthewholethingiscoveredwithblood.Iwalktothebathroomandinspectmyface.Myeyelooksokay.It’llprobablybealittlebruised,butmylipisslicedupontheinside.Ithinkhehitmesohardmytoothcutthroughmylip.“Fuck.”Bloodispouringoutofmymouth.“IthinkIneedstitches.”
Romanlooksatmymouthandthenwinces.“Shit,man.”Hegrabsawashclothandwetsit,thenhandsittomeandsays,“Comeon,I’lldriveyoutotheER.”CHAPTERTHIRTY-EIGHT
KENNA
There’salittlemorebounceinmystepassoonasIwalkoutofthestoreandspotLedger’struckacrosstheparkinglot.
Heseesmeexitthestore,sohedrivesacrossthelottopickmeup.Iclimbinsidethetruckandscootacrosstheseattogivehimakiss.Hedoesn’tturntofaceme,somylipslandonhischeek.
Iwouldsitinthemiddle,buthisconsoleisdown,andhe’sgotadrinkinthecupholder,soIsitinthepassengerseatandpullonmyseatbelt.
He’swearingshadesandhasn’tlookedatmesinceIgotintothetruck.Ibegintogrowconcerned,butthenhereachesacrosshisconsoletoholdmyhand,anditputsmeatease.Iwasstartingtoworrythathespentthedayregrettinglastnight,butIcanfeelinthewayhesqueezesmyhandthathe’shappytoseeme.Paranoiaisannoying.“Guesswhat?”
“What?”
“Igotapromotion.Cashier.Itpaystwodollarsmoreanhour.”
“That’sgreat,Kenna.”Hestilldoesn’tlookatme,though.Hereleasesmyhandandleansanelbowonhisdoor,restinghisheadagainsthislefthandwhilehedriveswithhisright.Istareathimforalittlebit,wonderingwhyheseemsdifferent.Quieter.
Mymouthisstartingtorundry,soIsay,“CanIhaveasipofyourdrink?”
Ledgertakesitoutofthecupholderandhandsittome.“It’ssweettea.Acoupleofhoursold.”
Itakeadrinkandstareathimthewholetime.Iputthecupbackintheholder.“What’swrong?”
Heshakeshishead.“Nothing.”
“Didyoutalktothem?Didsomethinghappen?”
“It’snothing,”hesays,hisvoicethickwiththelie.Ithinkherecognizeshowunconvincinghesounds,becauseafterapause,headds,“Let’sjustgettoyourplacefirst.”
Isinkintomyseatwhenhesaysthat.Anxietyrollsthroughmelikeawave.
Idon’tpushhimtotellmenowbecauseI’mscaredtoknowwhathashimsostiff.IstareoutmywindowthewholewaytomyapartmentwithagutfeelingthatthiswillbethelasttimeLedgerWardgivesmearidehome.
Hepullsintotheparkingspotandkillshisengine.Iunbuckleandexitthetruck,butafterIclosemydoor,Irealizehe’sstillsittingthere.Hetapshissteeringwheelwithhisthumb,lookinglostinthought.Afterseveralseconds,hefinallyopenshisdoorandgetsout.
Iwalkaroundtomeethimandgetabetterreadonhim,butIpauseassoonasI’mfacetofacewithhim.
“Oh,myGod.”Hislipisswollen.Irushuptohim,justasheslidesthesunglassesontopofhishead.That’swhenIseetheblackeye.I’mscaredtoask,somyvoiceistimidwhenIsay,“Whathappened?”
Heclosesthegapbetweenusandwrapsanarmaroundmyshoulders,pullingmeagainsthimsothathischinisrestingontopofmyhead.Hejusttucksmetohimforabeatandthengivesmeachastekissonthesideofmyhead.“Let’sgoinside.”Heslipshishandthroughmineandleadsmeupthestairs.
Oncewe’reinsidemyapartment,IbarelyhavethedoorshutbeforeIaskhimagain.“Whathappened,Ledger?”
Heleansagainstthecounterandgrabsmyhand.Hepullsmetohimandsmoothsmyhairback,lookingdownatme.“Theysawmytruckherethismorning.”
AnymorselofhopeIleftwiththismorningimmediatelydissipates.“Hehityou?”
Ledgernods,andIhavetobackawayandcomposemyselfbecauseIfeelnauseous.Iwanttocry,becausehowmadwouldPatrickhavetobetohitsomeone?ThewayScottyandLedgerhavetalkedabouthim,hedoesn’tseemlikethetypetolosehistempereasily.Whichmeans…theyhateme.TheyhatemesomuchthethoughtofLedgerandmetogethermadeagenerallykind,calmmanlosehismindonhim.
Iwasright.They’remakinghimchoose.
Thepanicbeginsspreadingfrommychesttoalltheotherpartsofmybody.Itakeasipofwater,andthenIpickupIvy,whohasbeenmeowingatmyfeet.Ipether.Itrytofindcomfortinherpresence.She’smyonlyconstantnow,becausethisstoryisendingexactlyhowIpredictedit.Noplottwistsatall.
Icameherewithonegoal,andthatwastotrytoforgearelationshipwiththeLandrysandwithmydaughter.Butthey’vemadeitveryclearthatit’snotsomethingtheywant.Maybeit’sjustnotsomethingtheycanemotionallyhandle.
IputIvybackonthefloorandthenfoldmyarmsacrossmychest.Ican’tevenlookatLedgerwhenIaskhimthisquestion.“Didtheyaskyoutostopseeingme?”
Heexhales,andhissighiseverythingIneedtoknow.Itrytoholdittogether,butIjustwanthimtoleave.OrmaybeIneedtoleave.
Thisapartment,thistown,thisstate.IwantasfarawayfrommydaughterasIcanget,becausethecloserIamtoherwithoutbeingabletoseeher,themoretemptingitbecomestojustgototheirhouseandtakeher.I’mdesperateenoughthatifIstayheretoomuchlonger,Imightdosomethingstupid.
“Ineedmoney.”
Ledgerlooksatmelikehedidn’tunderstandthequestion,orhecan’tprocesswhyIneedmoney.
“Ineedtomove,Ledger.Icanpayyouback,butIneedtoleave,andIdon’thaveenoughmoneytogetanewplace.Ican’tstayhere.”
“Wait,”hesays,steppingtowardme.“You’releaving?You’regivingup?”
Hischoiceofwordsmakesmeangry.“I’dsayItriedprettydamnhard.Theyhavearestrainingorderagainstme—Iwouldn’tcallthatgivingup.”
“Whataboutus?You’rejustgoingtowalkaway?”
“Don’tbeanasshole.Thisisharderformethanitisforyou.AtleastyoustillgetDiemintheend.”
Hegripsmyshoulders,butIlookawayfromhim,sohemoveshishandstothesidesofmyhead.Hetiltsmyfaceanddirectsmyfocusbacktohis.“Kenna,don’t.Please.Waitafewweeks.Let’sjustseewhathappens.”
“Weknowwhathappens.We’llkeepseeingeachotherinsecret,andwe’llfallinlove,buttheywon’tchangetheirmindsandI’llstillhavetoleave,butit’llhurtahellofalotworseinafewweeksthanifIweretojustleaverightnow.”Iwalktotheclosetandgrabmysuitcase.Iopenitandtossitontheinflatablemattressandstartthrowingmyshitinit.IcantakeabustothenexttownandthenstayinahoteluntilIfigureoutwheretogo.“Ineedmoney,”Isayagain.“I’llpayyoubackeverycent,Ledger.Ipromise.”
Ledgerstompsovertomeandshutsmysuitcase.“Stopit.”Hemakesmeturnandfacehimbypullingmeinandwrappingmeupinhisarms.“Stop.Please.”
We’retoolate.Italreadyhurtssobad.
Ipressmyhandsagainsthisshirtandgripitinmyfists.Istarttocry.Ican’tbearthethoughtofnotbeingaroundhim,notseeinghissmile,notfeelinghissupport.IalreadymisshimeventhoughI’mstillstandingrighthereinhisarms.Butasmuchastheideaofleavinghimhurts,Ithinkmytearsareformydaughter.They’realwaysforher.
“Ledger.”Isayhisnamequietly,andthenIliftmyheadfromhischestandlookupathim.“Theonlythingyoucandoatthispointisgooverthereandapologizetothem.Diemneedsyou.Asmuchasithurts,iftheycan’tmovepastwhatIdidtothem,itisn’tyourjobtorepairormendwhat’sbrokeninsideofthem.It’syourjobtosupportthem,andyoucan’tdothatwithmeinyourlife.”
Hisjawisclenched.Itlookslikehe’stryingnottocry.ButitalsolookslikeheknowsI’mright.Hetakesastepawayfrommeandthenopenshiswallet.“Youwantmycreditcard?”heasks,pullingitout.Heremovesseveraltwenty-dollarbillstoo.Heseemssoupsetandmadanddefeatedasheangrilyyanksstuffoutofhiswallet.Hetosseshiscreditcardandthecashonthecounter,andthenhestepstowardme,kissesmeontheforehead,andleaves.
Heslamsthedoorashegoes.
Ileanforwardandpressmyelbowsintothecounter,andIholdmyheadinmyhandsandIcryevenharder,becauseI’mangryIallowedmyselftogetmyhopesup.It’sbeenwelloverfiveyearssinceithappened.Iftheywereevergoingtoforgiveme,they’dhavedoneitbynow.They’rejustnottheforgivingtype.
Therearepeoplewhofindpeaceinforgiveness,andthenthereareotherswholookatforgivenessasabetrayal.Tothem,forgivingmewouldfeellikebetrayingtheirownson.Icanonlyhopetheychangetheirmindssomeday,butuntilthen,thisismylife.Thisiswhereit’sledme.
ThisiswhereIstartover.Again.AndI’mgoingtohavetodoitwithoutLedgerorhisencouragementorhisbeliefinme.I’msobbingnow,butI’mstillabletohearthefrontdoorwhenitswingsbackopen.
Iliftmyheadasheslamsthedoorshutandstridesacrosstheroom.Heliftsme,settingmedownonthecountersothatwe’reeyetoeye,andthenhekissesmewithasaddesperation,asifit’sthelastkisshe’llevergiveme.
Afterbreakingourkiss,helooksatmewithdeterminationwhenhesays,“IamgoingtobethebestpersonIcanbeforyourdaughter.Ipromise.I’mgoingtogiveherthebestlife,andwhensheasksabouthermother,I’mgoingtotellherwhatawonderfulpersonyouare.I’llmakesureshegrowsupknowinghowmuchyouloveher.”
I’mafuckingmessnow,becauseI’mgoingtomisshimso,somuch.
Hepresseshisswollenmouthtomine,andIkisshimgentlybecauseIdon’twanttohurthim.Thenourforeheadsmeet.Itlookslikehe’sstrugglingtokeephiscomposure.“I’msorryIcouldn’tdomoreforyou.”Hestartstobackaway,pullingapartfromme,andithurtstoomuchtowatchhimgo,soIstareatthefloor.
There’ssomethingbeneathmyfeet.Itlookslikeabusinesscard,soIslideoffthecounterandpickitup.It’sLedger’ssnowconepunchcard.Itmusthavefallenoutofhiswalletwhenhetookeverythingoutofit.
“Ledger,wait.”Imeethimatthedoorandhandhimhiscard.“Youneedthis,”Isay,snifflingbacktears.“You’resoclosetoafreesnowcone.”
Helaughsthroughhispain,takingthecardfromme.Butthenhewincesanddropshisforeheadtomine.“I’msoangryatthem,Kenna.Thisisn’tfair.”
Itisn’t.Butitisn’tuptous.Ikisshimonelasttime,andthenIsqueezehishandandlookathimpleadingly.“Don’thatethem.Okay?They’regivingmylittlegirlagoodlife.Pleasedon’thatethem.”
Hebarelynods,butit’sanod.Whenheletsgoofmyhand,Idon’twanttowatchhimleave,soIgotomybathroomandclosethedoor.
Afewsecondslater,Ihearmyapartmentdoorshut.
Islidetothefloorandfallapart.CHAPTERTHIRTY-NINE
LEDGER
Idon’tevengointomyhousewhenIgetbackhome.IwalkstraighttoPatrickandGrace’sfrontdoorandIknock.
Itwasneverachoice.Diemwillalwaysbethemostimportantgirlinmylife,nomatterwhatorwhoorwhen.Butthatdoesn’tmeanI’mnottornthefuckuprightnow.
It’sPatrickwhoopensthedoor,butGracequicklyjoinshim.Ithinkshe’safraidtheremightbeanotherfight.Theybothlookalittlesurprisedtoseethestateofmyinjuries,butPatrickoffersupnoapologies.Idon’texpecthimto
Ilookthembothintheeye.“Diemwantedtoshowmeherturtle.”
Thesentenceissosimple,butI’msayingsomuch.Thatsentencetranslatesto,“IchoseDiem.Let’sgobacktohowthingswerebefore.”
Patrickeyesmeforamoment,butthenGracestepsasideandsays,“She’sinherbedroom.”
It’sforgivenessandacceptance,butit’snottheforgivenessIreallywantfromthem.ButItakeit.
DiemisonherfloorwhenIgettoherdoorway.Theturtleisafootawayfromher,andshe’stryingtocoaxittowardherwithagreenLEGO.
“So,thisisyourturtle,huh?”
Diemsitsupandbeamsasmile.“Yep.”Shepickshimup,andwemeetatherbed.Isitdownandleanagainsttheheadboard.Shecrawlstothemiddleofthebedandhandsmetheturtle,thencurlsupatmyside.Iplacehimonmyleg,andhestartstocrawltowardmyknee.
“WhydidNoNohityou?”She’slookingatmylipwhensheasksthis.
“Sometimesadultsmakebaddecisions,D.Isaidsomethingthathurthisfeelings,andhegotupset.It’snothisfault.Itwasmyfault.”
“Areyoumadathim?”
“No.”
“IsNoNostillmad?”
Morethanlikely.“No.”Iwanttochangethesubject.“What’syourturtle’sname?”
Diempickshimupandlayshimonherlap.“Ledger.”
Ilaugh.“You’renamingtheturtleafterme?”
“Yes.BecauseIloveyou.”Shesaysthatinthesweetestvoice,anditmakesmyheartclench.IwishKennacouldbetherecipientofDiem’swordsrightnow.
Ikissherontopofthehead.“Iloveyou,too,D.”
IputherturtleinitsaquariumandthenIcrawlbackontoherbedandstaywithheruntilshenodsoff.AndthenIstayalittlewhilelongerjusttobecertainshe’sasleep.
IknowPatrickandGraceloveher,andIknowtheyloveme,sothelastthingtheywouldeverdoisseparatethetwoofus.Theycanbeangry,buttheyalsoknowhowmuchDiemlovesme,soevenifthethreeofuscan’tworkourshitout,IknowI’llalwaysbeahugepartofDiem’slife.AndaslongasI’mapartofDiem’slife,I’mgoingtofightforwhat’sbestforher.
Ishouldhavebeendoingitallalong.
Andwhat’sbestforDiemishavinghermotherinherlife.
It’swhyIdidwhatIdidbeforeIleftKenna’sapartment.
AssoonasKennaclosedherbathroomdoor,Iclosedherapartmentdoorandpretendedtoleave.Instead,Igrabbedherphone.Thepasswordwasaneasyguess—Diem’sbirthday.IopenedherGoogleDocsandfoundthefilewithallthelettersshe’swrittentoScotty,andIforwardedthefiletomyemailaddressbeforesneakingout.
IstayinDiem’sbedroomandpullupPatrickandGrace’sprinternetworkonmyphone.IopenmyemailandfindtheletterKennareadtome,andIskipoveralltherestofthelettersshe’swrittenScotty.I’vealreadyviolatedherprivacyenoughbyusingherphoneandforwardingthesetomyself.Idon’tplantoreadanyoftheothersunlessshetellsmeIcansomeday.
Tonight,Ijustneedoneoftheletters.
Ihitprint,andIclosemyeyesandlistenforthesoundoftheprintertoactivateinPatrick’sofficeacrossthehall.
Iwaituntilitfinishesprinting,andthenIsneakoutofDiem’sbedandwaitamomentinherroomtomakesureIdidn’twakeherup.She’ssoundasleep,soIslipoutofherroomandintoPatrick’soffice.Igrabtheletterofftheprinterandmakesureallofitprinted.
“Wishmeluck,Scotty,”Iwhisper.
WhenIemergefromthehallway,they’rebothinthekitchen.Graceislookingatherphone,andPatrickisemptyingthedishwasher.Theybothlookupatthesametime.
“IhavesomethingIneedtosay,andIreallydon’twanttoyell,butIwillifIhaveto,soIthinkweshouldgooutsidebecauseIdon’twanttowakeupDiem.”
Patrickclosesthedishwasher.“Wedon’treallywanttohearwhatyouhavetosay,Ledger.”Hemotionstowardthedoor.“Youshouldgo.”
Ihavealotofempathyforthem,butI’mafraidI’vejustmetmylimit.Awaveofheatclimbsupmyneck,andItrytopushdownmyanger,butit’ssohardwhenI’vegiventhemsomuch.IrecallthewordsKennasaidtomerightbeforeIlefther.Pleasedon’thatethem.
“I’vegivenmylifetothatlittlegirl,”Isay.“Youowethistome.I’mnotleavingyourpropertyuntilwetalkaboutthis.”Iwalkoutthefrontdoorandwaitintheiryard.Aminutepasses.Maybetwo.Itakeaseatontheirfrontpatio.They’reeithergoingtocallthepoliceorthey’regoingtocomeoutsideorthey’regoingtogotobedandignoreme.I’llwaithereuntiloneofthosethreethingshappens.
It’sseveralminutesbeforeIhearthedooropenbehindme.Istandupandspinaround.PatrickwalksoutofthehousejustfarenoughtogiveGracespaceinthedoorway.NeitherofthemlooksopentowhatI’mabouttosay,butIhavetosayitanyway.Therewillneverbeagoodtimeforthisconversation.Therewillneverbeagoodtimetotakethesideofthegirlwhoruinedtheirlives.
IfeellikethewordsI’mabouttosayarethemostimportantwordsthatwillevercomefromme.IwishIweremoreprepared.KennadeservesbetterthantohavemeandmypleabetheonlyhopeleftbetweenherandDiem.
Iblowoutanunsteadybreath.“EverydecisionImakeisforDiem.IendedmyengagementwithawomanIlovedbecauseIwasn’tsureshewouldbegoodenoughforthatlittlegirl.ThatshouldtellyouthatIwouldneverputmyownhappinessbeforeDiem’s.Iknowyoubothknowthat,andIalsoknowyou’rejusttryingtoprotectyourselvesfromthepainKenna’sactionscaused.Butyou’retakingtheworstmomentofKenna’slifeandyou’remakingthatmomentwhosheis.Thatisn’tfair.Itisn’tfairtoKenna.Itisn’tfairtoDiem.I’mstartingtowonderifit’sevenfairtoScotty.”
Iholdupthepagesinmyhand.
“Shewritesletterstohim.ToScotty.She’sbeendoingitforfiveyears.ThisistheonlyoneI’veread,butitwasenoughtochangemyentireopinionofher.”Ipause,andthenbacktrackonmywords.“Actually,that’snottrue.IforgaveKennabeforeIevenknewthecontentsoftheletter.Butthesecondshereadthisoutloudtome,Irealizedshe’sbeenhurtingjustasmuchasallofushave.Andwe’reslowlykillingherbycontinuingtodragoutherpain.”IsqueezemyforeheadandputevenmoreemphasisonthewordsI’mabouttospeak.“Wearekeepingamotherfromherchild.That’snotokay.Scottywouldbesomadatus.”
ItgrowsquietwhenIstopspeaking.Tooquiet.It’sliketheyaren’tevenbreathing.IhandGracetheletter.“It’llbehardtoread.ButI’mnotaskingyoutoreaditbecauseI’minlovewithKenna.I’maskingyoutoreaditbecauseyoursonwasinlovewithher.”
Gracestartstocry.Patrickstillwon’tlookmeintheeye,buthereachesforhiswifeandpullshertohim.
“I’vegiventhelastfiveyearsofmylifetoyouguys.AllI’maskingforinreturnistwentyminutes.Itprobablywon’teventakeyouthatlongtoreadtheletter.Afteryoureadit,andtaketimetoprocessit,we’lltalk.AndI’llrespectwhateverdecisionsthetwoofyoumake.IswearIwill.Butplease,pleasegivemethenexttwentyminutes.YouoweDiemtheopportunitytohaveanotherpersoninherlifewhowillloveherasmuchasScottywouldhavelovedher.”
Idon’tgivethemanopeningtoargueorhandtheletterbacktome.Iimmediatelyturnandwalktomyhouseanddisappearinsideit.Idon’tevenlookoutthewindowtoseeifthey’vegoneinside,orifthey’rereadingtheletter.
I’msonervousI’mshaking.
Ilookformyparentsandfindtheminthebackyard.MyfatherhasitemsfromtheRVspreadoutacrossthegrass,andhe’susingthewaterhosetocleanthem.Mymotherissittinginthepatioloveseatreadingabook.
Itakeaseatnexttoher.Shelooksupfromherbookandsmiles,butwhensheseesthelookonmyface,sheclosesthepaperback.
IdropmyheadinmyhandsandIstarttocry.Ican’thelpit.IfeellikethelivesofeveryoneIlovearehangingonthismoment,andit’sfuckingoverwhelming.
“Ledger,”mymothersays.“Oh,honey.”Shewrapsherarmaroundmeandhugsme.CHAPTERFORTY
KENNA
IwokeupwithamigraineduetohowmuchIcriedlastnight.
IexpectedLedgertotextmeorcallme,butheneverdid.NotthatIwanthimto.Acleanbreakisbetterthanamessyone.
Ihatethatmychoicesfromthatonenightyearsagohavesomehowcreatedanothercasualtyalltheseyearslater.Howlongwilltheaftershocksfromthatnightcontinue?WillIfeeltheramificationsforever?
SometimesIwonderifwe’reallbornwithequalamountsofgoodandevil.Whatifnoonepersonismoreorlessmalevolentthananother,andthatwealljustreleaseourbadatdifferenttimes,indifferentways?
Maybesomeofusexpelmostofourbadbehaviorastoddlers,whilesomeofusareabsolutehorrorsduringtheteenageyears.Andthenmaybetherearethosewhoexpendverylittlemaliceuntilthey’readults,andeventhen,itjustseepsoutslowly.Alittlebiteverydayuntilwedie.
Butthenthatwouldmeantherearepeoplelikeme.Thosewhoreleasetheirbadallatonce—inonehorrificnight.
Whenyougetallyoureviloutatonce,theimpactismuchbiggerthanwhenitseepsoutslowly.Thedestructionyouleavebehindcoversamuchbiggercircumferenceonthemapandtakesupamuchlargerspaceinpeople’smemories.
Idon’twanttobelievethattherearegoodpeopleandbadpeople,andnoin-betweenpeople.Idon’twanttobelieveI’mworsethananyoneelse,asifthere’sabucketfullofevilsomewherewithinmethatcontinuestorefilleverytimeitrunsempty.Idon’twanttobelieveI’mcapableofrepeatingbehaviorI’vedisplayedinthepast,butevenafteralltheseyears,peoplearestillsufferingbecauseofme.
DespitethedevastationI’veleftinmywake,Iamnotabadperson.Iamnotabadperson.
Ittookfiveyearsofweeklytherapysessionstohelpmerealizethis.Ionlyrecentlylearnedhowtosayitoutloud.“Iamnotabadperson.”
I’vebeenlisteningtotheplaylistLedgermademeallmorning.Itreallyisjustabunchofsongsthathavenothingtodowithanythingsad.Idon’tknowhowhemanagedtofindthismanysongs.Ithadtotakehimforever.
IslideMaryAnne’sheadphonesovermyears,andIputtheplaylistonshuffleandstarttocleanmyapartment.IwantmysecuritydepositbackwhenIfigureoutwhereI’mmovingto,soIdon’tneedareasonforRuthnottorefundittome.I’llleavetheapartmenttentimescleanerthanIfoundit.
IcleanforabouttenminuteswhenIstarttohearabeatinthesongthatdoesn’tbelong.Ittakesmewaytoolongtorealizethebeatisactuallynotinthesong.
It’saknock.
Islipoffmyheadphonesandhearitevenlouderthistime.Someoneisdefinitelyknockingatmyfrontdoor.MyheartratespeedsupbecauseIdon’twantittobeLedger,butIneedittobeLedger.Onemorekisswouldn’tbreakme.Maybe.
Itiptoetowardthedoorandlookthroughthepeephole.
It’sLedger.
Ipressmyforeheadtothedoorandtrytomaketherightdecision.He’shavingaweakmoment,butIshouldn’tdothis.HisweakmomentswillbemydownfallifIcatertothem.We’lljustgobackandforthuntilwe’rebothcompletelybroken.
Iopenmytextstohimonmyphoneandtypeout,I’mnotopeningthedoor.
Iwatchhimreaditthroughthepeephole,buthisexpressionisunwavering.Helooksrightintothepeepholeandpointsdowntothedoorknob.
Fuck.Whydidhehavetopoint?Iunlockthedeadboltandopenthedoorjusttwoinches.“Don’tkissmeortouchmeorsayanythingsweet.”
Ledgersmiles.“I’lldomybest.”
Iopenthedoorcautiously,buthedoesn’teventrytocomeinsideonceIhavethedooropen.Hestandsupstraightandsays,“Doyouhaveaminute?”
Inod.“Yeah.Comein.”
Heshakeshishead.“Notforme.”Hisattentionmovesawayfromme,andhepointsinsidemyapartment,butthenhestepsawayfromthedoor.
Gracewalksintomylineofsight.
Iimmediatelyslapmyhandovermymouth,becauseIwasn’texpectingherandIhaven’tbeenfacetofacewithhersincebeforeScottydiedandIhadnoideaitwouldknockthebreathoutofme.
Idon’tknowwhatitmeans.Irefusetoletmyselfthinkthismeansanythingatall,butthere’stoomuchhopeinsidemetokeepburiedinherpresence.
Ibackintomyapartment,buttearsarespillingfrommyeyes.There’ssomuchIwanttosaytoher.Somanyapologies.Somanypromises.
Gracestepsinsidemyapartment,andLedgerstaysoutsidebutclosesthedoortogiveusprivacy.Igrabapapertowelandwipeatmyeyes.It’spointless.Idon’tthinkI’vecriedlikethissinceIgavebirthtoDiemandwatchedthemtakeherawayfromme.
“I’mnotheretoupsetyou,”Gracesays.Hervoiceisgentle.Soisherexpression.
Ishakemyhead.“It’snot…I’msorry.IneedaminutebeforeIcan…talk.”
Gracemotionstowardthesofa.“Canwesit?”
Inod,andwebothtakeaseatonthecouch.Gracewatchesmeforamoment,probablyjudgingmytears,wonderingifthey’rerealorforced.
Shereachesintoherpocketandpullssomethingout.AtfirstIthinkit’sahandkerchief,butuponcloserinspection,Irealizeit’sasmallblackvelvetbag.Gracehandsmethebag,andIhavenoideawhy.
Ipullthestringstoloosentheopeningtothevelvetbag,andthenIdumpthecontentsintomypalm.
Igasp.“What?How?”I’mholdingtheringIfellinlovewithallthoseyearsagowhenScottytookmetotheantiquestore.Thefour-thousand-dollargoldringwiththepinkstonethathecouldn’tafford.I’venevertoldanyonethatstory,soI’mextremelyconfusedastohowGraceisinpossessionofthisring.“Howdoyouevenhavethis?”
“Scottycalledmethedayyoutwosawthering.Hesaidhewasn’treadytoproposetoyou,butthathealreadyknewwhatringhewasgoingtoproposewithwhenthetimecame.Hecouldn’taffordit,buthewasafraidsomeoneelsewasgoingtobuyitbeforehegotthechance.Welethimborrowthemoney.Hegavemetheringandmademepromisetokeepitinasafeplaceuntilhecouldpayusback.”
MyhandsareshakingasIputtheringonmyfinger.Ican’tbelieveScottydidthat.
Gracereleasesaquickrushofair.“I’llbehonest,Kenna.Ididn’twantthatringafterhedied.AndIdidn’twantyoutohaveitbecauseIwassomadatyou.ButwhenwefoundoutDiemwasagirl,Idecidedtoholdontoit.JustincaseIwantedtopassitontohersomeday.Butaftergivingitsomethought…that’sreallynotmydecisiontomake.Iwantyoutohaveit.Scottyboughtitforyou.”
There’stoomuchcoursingthroughmetoprocessthis,soittakesmeamomenttorecover.Ishakemyhead.I’mtooscaredtobelieveher.Idon’tevenallowthewordstosinkin.“Thankyou.”
Gracereachesoverandsqueezesmyhand,promptingmetolookather.“IpromisedLedgerIwouldn’ttellyouthis,but…hegaveusoneofthelettersyouwrotetoScotty.”
I’mshakingmyheadeventhoughsheisn’tfinishedtalking.HowdidLedgergetoneofthoseletters?Whichonedidhegivethem?
“Hemademereaditlastnight.”Herexpressionfalls.“Afterhearingyourversionofevents,IwasevenmoredevastatedandangrythanIwasbeforeIreadit.Itwassohard…hearingallthedetails.Icriedallnight.ButthismorningwhenIwokeup,itwasasifanoverwhelmingsensationofpeacehadwashedoverme.TodaywasthefirstmorningIdidn’twakeupangryatyou.”Shewipesatthetearsnowslidingdownherface.“Alltheseyears,Iassumedyoursilenceinthecourtroomwasindifference.Iassumedyoulefthiminthatcarbecauseyouonlycaredforyourselfanddidn’twanttogetinlegaltrouble.MaybeIassumedallthosethingsbecauseitwaseasiertohavesomeonetoblameforsuchahorrificandpointlessloss.AndIknowyourgriefshouldn’tbringmepeace,Kenna.Butit’ssomucheasiertounderstandyounowthanwhenIassumedyounevergrievedatall.”Gracereachestowardastrandofhairthat’sfallenloosefrommyponytail,andshebrushesitgentlybehindmyear.It’ssomethingamotherwoulddo,andIdon’tunderstandit.Idon’tknowhowshecangofromhatingmetoforgivingmeinsuchashortamountoftime,soIcontinuetobewaryofthismoment.Butthetearsinhereyesfeellikethetruth.“Iamsosorry,Kenna.”Shesaysthatwithsuchsincerity.“I’mresponsibleforkeepingyoufromyourdaughterforfiveyears,andthere’snoexcuseforthat.TheonlythingIcandoismakesureyoudon’tgoanotherdaywithoutknowingher.”
MyhandistremblingwhenIbringittomychest.“I…Igettomeether?”
Gracenods,andthenshehugsmewhenIfallapart.Sherunsasoothinghandoverthebackofmyheadandallowsmeseveralminutestoabsorbeverythingthat’shappening.
ThisiseverythingI’veeverwanted,andit’scomingatmeallatonce.It’sbothphysicallyandemotionallyoverwhelming.I’vehaddreamslikethisbefore.DreamswhereGraceshowsuptoforgivemeandletsmemeetDiem,butthenIwakeupaloneandrealizeitwasacruelnightmare.Pleaseletthisbereal.
“Ledgerisprobablydyingnotknowingwhat’sgoingoninhere.”Shestandsupandwalkstothedoortoopenitforhim.
Ledger’seyessearchfranticallyuntiltheylandonmine.WhenIsmileathim,heimmediatelyrelaxes,asifmysmileistheonlythingthatmatteredinthismoment.
HepullsGraceinforahugfirst.Ihearhimwhisper,“Thankyou,”againstherear.
Shelooksatmebeforesheleavesmyapartment.“I’mmakinglasagnatonight.Iwantyoutocomefordinner.”
Iagreewithanod.Graceleaves,andLedgeriswrappingmeinhisarmsbeforesheevenclosesthedoor.
“Thankyou,thankyou,thankyou.”Isayitoverandover,becauseIknowthiswouldneverhavehappenedifitweren’tforhim.“Thankyou.”Ikisshim.“Thankyou.”WhenIfinallystopthankingandkissinghimlongenoughtopullbackandlookhimintheeye,Iseehe’scryingtoo.ItfillsmewithasenseofgratitudelikeI’veneverknown.
Iamsogratefulforhim.Tohim.
ThismightbetheexactmomentIfallinlovewithLedgerWard.
“I’mabouttobesick.”
“Wantmetopullover?”
Ishakemyhead.“No.Drivefaster.”
Ledgersqueezesmykneereassuringly.
ItwastorturehavingtowaituntilthisafternoontomakeourwaytoPatrickandGrace’shouse.IwantedhimtotakemetoDiemassoonasGraceleftmyapartment,butIwanteverythingtobeontheirterms.I’llbeaspatientasIneedtobe.
I’mgoingtorespecttheirrules.I’llrespecttheirtimeline,andtheirchoices,andtheirwishes.I’mgoingtoshowthemasmuchrespectasIknowthey’veshownmydaughter.
Iknowthey’regoodpeople.Scottylovedthem.They’rejustalsohurtpeople,soIrespectthetimetheyneededtocometothisdecision.
I’mnervousI’mgoingtodosomethingwrong.Saysomethingwrong.TheonlyothertimeI’vebeeninsidetheirhousewassuchaseriesofmissteps,andIneedthistimetobedifferentbecausethere’ssomuchatstake.
WepullintoLedger’sdriveway,butwedon’timmediatelygetoutofthetruck.Hegivesmeapeptalkandkissesmeabouttentimes,butthenIbecomemorenervousandexcitedthanI’veeverbeen,andtheemotionsallstarttoruntogether.IfIdon’tgetitoverwith,Imightexplode.
Heholdsmyhandtightlyinhisaswecrossthestreet,andwalkacrossgrassDiemhasplayedon,andknockonthedoortothehouseDiemlivesin.
Don’tcry.Don’tcry.Don’tcry.
I’msqueezingLedger’shandlikeI’minthemiddleofanintensecontraction.
Thedoorfinallyopens,andstandingrightinfrontofmeisPatrick.Helooksnervous,buthesomehowsmilesthroughit.Hepullsmeinforahug,anditisn’tjustaforcedhugbecauseI’mstandinginfrontofhim,orbecausehiswifeencouragedhimtohugme.
It’sahugfullofsomanythings.EnoughthingsthatwhenPatrickpullsaway,hehastowipeathiseyes.“Diemisoutbackwithherturtle,”hesays,motioningdownthehallway.
Therearenoharshwordsfromhim,nonegativeenergy.Idon’tknowifnowistherighttimetoapologize,butsincePatrickispointingustowardDiem’slocation,Ifeelliketheywanttosavewhateversitsbetweenthethreeofusforlater.
Ledgerholdsmyhandaswewalkintothehouse.I’vebeeninthehousebeforeandI’vebeeninthebackyardbefore,sothere’sasenseoffamiliaritythat’scomforting.Buteverythingelseisfrightening.Whatifshedoesn’tlikeme?Whatifshe’smadatme?
Graceappearsfromthekitchen,andIpausebeforeweheadtothebackyard.IlookatGrace.“Whathaveyoutoldher?Aboutmyabsence?Ijustwanttomakesure…”
Graceshakesherhead.“Wereallyhaven’ttalkedtoheraboutyouatall.Sheaskedoncewhyshedidn’tlivewithhermother,andItoldheryourcarwasn’tbigenough.”
Ilaughnervously.“What?”
Graceshrugs.“Ipanicked.Ididn’tknowwhattosay.”
Mycarisn’tbigenough?Icanworkwiththat.Inmymind,Ihadfearedtheyhadpoisonedheragainstme.Ishouldhaveknownbetter.
“Wethoughtwe’dleavetherestuptoyou,”Patricksays.“Weweren’tsurehowmuchyouwantedhertoknow.”
Inodandsmileandtrynottocry.IlookatLedger,andhe’slikeananchorbymyside,keepingmesteady.“Willyoucomewithme?”
Wewalktowardthebackdoor.Icanseehersittinginthegrass.Iwatchherfromthescreendoorforacoupleofminutes,wantingtotakeineverythingaboutherbeforewhatevercomesnext.I’mscaredofwhatcomesnext.Terrified,really.Thisisalmosttheexactsamefeelingasbeinginlaborwithher.Iwasterrified,inunchartedterritory,butalsofullofmorehopeandexcitementandlovethanI’deverfelt.
Ledgereventuallygivesmeanencouragingnudge,soIopenthedoor.DiemlooksupandseesLedgerandmestandingonthebackporch.Shegivesmeaquickglance,butwhenhereyeslandonLedger,shelightsup.Sherunstohim,andhecatchesherinhisarms.
Igetawhiffofstrawberryshampoo.
Ihaveadaughterwhosmellslikestrawberries.
LedgersitsonthebackporchswingwithDiemandpointstotheemptyseatnexttohim,soItakeaseatwiththem.Diemisinhislap,lookingatmeasshecurlsuptoLedger.
“Diem,thisismyfriendKenna.”
Diemsmilesatme,anditalmostsendsmetothefloor.“Doyouwanttoseemyturtle?”sheasks,perkingup.
“I’dloveto.”
Hertinylittlehandgripstwoofmyfingers,andsheslidesoffLedgerandpullsme.IglanceatLedgerasIstand,andhegivesmeareassuringnod.Diemtakesmetothegrass,andsheplopsdownnexttoherturtle.
IliedownontheothersideofherturtlesothatI’mfacingDiem.“What’shisname?”
“Ledger.”Shegigglesandholdsuptheturtle.“Helooksjustlikehim.”
Ilaugh,andshe’stryingtogetherturtletocomeoutofhisshell,butIcan’tstopstaringather.Seeingheronvideoisoneexperience,butgettingtobenearherandfeelherenergyislikearebirth.
“Wanttoseemyjunglegym?Igotitformybirthday—Iturnfivenextweek.”Diemisrunningtowardherjunglegym,soIfollowher.IglancebackatLedger,andhe’sstillsittingontheporchswing,watchingus.
Diempokesherheadoutofthejunglegymandsays,“Ledger,canyouputLedgerinhistanksohedoesn’tgetlost?”
“Surewill,”hesays,standing.
Diemgrabsmyhandandpullsmeinsidethejunglegym,whereshesitsdowninthecenterofit.Ifeelmorecomfortablehere.Noonecanseeus,andthatputsmealittlemoreateaseknowingpeoplearen’tjudginghowIinteractwithherinthismoment.
“Thisusedtobemydaddy’s,”Diemsays.“NoNoandLedgerputitbacktogetherforme.”
“Iknewyourdaddy.”
“Wereyouhisfriend?”
Ismile.“Iwashisgirlfriend.Ilovedhimverymuch.”
Diemgiggles.“Ididn’tknowmydaddyhadagirlfriend.”
IseesomuchofScottyinherrightnow.Inthatlaugh.Ihavetolookawayfromherfacebecausethetearsstarttofall.
Diemnoticesmytears,though.“Whyareyousad?Doyoumisshim?”
Inod,wipingawaymytears.“Idomisshim,butthat’snotwhyI’mcrying.I’mcryingbecauseI’msohappyIfinallygettomeetyou.”
Diemcocksherheadandsays,“Why?”
She’sthreewholefeetawayfromme,andIjustwanttoholdherandhugher.Ipatthespotrightinfrontofme.“Comecloser.Iwanttotellyousomething.”
Diemcrawlstowardmeandsitswithherlegscrossed.
“Iknowwe’venevermetbefore,but…”Idon’tevenknowhowtosaythis,soIjustsayitinthesimplestway.“I’myourmother.”
Diem’seyesfillwithsomething,butIdon’tknowwhatherexpressionsmeanyet.Idon’tknowifthat’ssurpriseorcuriosity.“Really?”
Ismileather.“Iam.Yougrewinsidemytummy.Andthenwhenyouwereborn,NanaandNoNotookcareofyouformebecauseIcouldn’t.”
“Didyougetabiggercar?”
Ireleasealaugh.I’mgladtheygavemethattidbitofinformation,orIwouldhavenoideawhatshe’sreferringto.“Iactuallydon’thaveacaranymore.ButIwillsoon.Ijustcouldn’twaittomeetyou,soLedgergavemearide.I’vebeenwantingtomeetyouforsolong.”
Diemdoesn’thavemuchofareaction.Shejustsmiles.Andthenshecrawlsacrossthegrassandstartsflippingtic-tac-toesquaresthatmakeupapartofthewallofthejunglegym.“YoushouldcometomyT-ballgame.It’smylastone.”Shespinsoneofthelettersonthewall.
“IwouldlovetocomewatchyouplayT-ball.”
“SomedayI’mgonnadothatthingwiththeswords,though,”Diemsays.“Hey,doyouknowhowtoplaythisgame?”
InodandmoveclosetohersoIcanshowherhowtoplaytic-tac-toe.
Irealizethatthismomentisn’tnearlyasmonumentaltoDiemasitistome.I’veplayedoutamillionscenariosinmyheadofhowthiswouldgo,andineveryscenario,Diemwaseithersadorangrythatittookmesolongtobeapartofherlife.
Butshetrulydidn’tevenknowthatIwasmissing.
I’msogratefulforthat.Alltheseyearsofworryanddevastationhaveallbeenonesided,whichmeansDiemhasbeenwholeandhappyandfulfilled.
Icouldn’thaveaskedforabetteroutcome.It’slikeIjustgettoslipintoherlifewithoutsomuchasaripple.
Diemgrabsmyhandandsays,“Idon’twanttoplaythis,let’sgototheswings.”Sheabandonsthegame,andwecrawloutofthecenterofthejunglegym.Sheclimbsintoaswingandsays,“Iforgotyourname.”
“It’sKenna.”IsaythatwithasmilebecauseIknowI’llneverhavetolietoanyoneaboutmynameagain.
“Willyoupushme?”
Ipushherontheswing,andshestartstellingmeaboutamovieLedgertookhertoseerecently.
Ledgerwalksoutontotheporchandseesustalking.Hecomesovertousandstandsbehindme,wrappinghisarmsaroundme.Hekissesthesideofmyhead,rightwhenDiemturnsandlooksatus.“Gross!”
Ledgerkissesthesideofmyheadagainandsays,“Getusedtoit,D.”
LedgertakesoverpushingDiem’sswing,andIsitdownintheswingnexttoherandwatchthem.DiemtipsherheadbackandlooksatLedger.“Areyougonnamarrymymom?”
Ishouldprobablyhaveareactiontothemarriagepartofthatquestion,butmybrainonlyfocusesonthefactthatshejustsaidmymom.
“Idon’tknow.Westillneedtogettoknoweachotherbetter.”Ledgerlooksatmeandsmiles.“MaybeoneofthesedaysI’llbeworthyenoughtomarryher.”
“Whatdoesworthymean?”sheasks.
“Itmeansgoodenough.”
“You’regoodenough,”Diemsays.“That’swhyInamedmyturtleLedger.”Shetiltsherheadbackagainandlooksathim.“I’mthirsty,willyoubringmeajuice?”
“Gogetityourself,”hesays.
Igetoutoftheswing.“I’llgetyouajuice.”
IhearLedgermuttertoher,“You’resorotten,”asIwalkaway.
Diemlaughs.“Iamnot!”
WhenIgoinside,Iwatchthemfromthebackdoorforamoment.They’readorabletogether.She’sadorable.I’mscaredI’mabouttowakeupandrealizenoneofthisactuallyhappened,butIknowit’shappening.AndIknowI’lleventuallyembracethatIdeservethis.MaybeafterIfinallyhavearealconversationwiththeLandrys.
IwalkintothekitchentofindGracecooking.“Shewantssomejuice,”IsayasIenter.
Grace’shandsarefullofchoppedtomatoes,andshedropsthemintoasalad.“It’sinthefridge.”
IgrabajuiceandobserveGraceasshepreparesdinner.IwanttobemorehelpfulandinteractivewithherthanIwasthefirsttimeScottybroughtmetothishouse.“HowcanIhelp?”
Gracesmilesatme.“Youdon’thaveto.Gospendtimewithyourdaughter.”
Istarttowalkoutofthekitchen,butmystepsfeelsoheavy.IhavesomuchIwanttosaytoGracethatIdidn’thavethechancetosaytoherearliertodayatmyapartment.Iturnaround,andI’msorryisonthetipofmytongue,butIfeellikeifIopenmymouth,I’llcry.
MyeyesmeetGrace’s,andshecanseetheagonyinmyexpression.
“Grace…”Myvoiceisawhisper.
Sheimmediatelywalksovertomeandpullsmeinforahug.
It’sanamazinghug.Aforgivinghug.“Hey,”shesays,soothingly.“Hey,listentome.”Shepullsback,andwe’reaboutthesameheight,sowe’reeyetoeyewhenshetakesthejuicefrommeandsetsitaside.Thenshesqueezesbothofmyhandsreassuringly.“Wegoforward,”shesays.“That’sit.It’sthatsimple.Iforgiveyouandyouforgiveme,andwegoforwardtogetherandgivethatlittlegirlthebestlifewecangiveher.Okay?”
Inod,becauseIcandothat.Iforgivethem.I’vealwaysforgiventhem.
It’smyselfI’vebeenhardon.ButIthinkI’vereachedthepointthatforgivingmyselffinallyfeelsokay.
SoIdo.
You’reforgiven,Kenna.CHAPTERFORTY-ONE
LEDGER
Shefits.It’ssurrealand,tobehonest,alittleoverwhelming.Wejustfinishedeatingdinner,butwe’reallstillsittingatthetable.Diemiscurledupinmylap,andI’msittingnexttoKenna.
Sheseemednervouswhenwefirstsatdowntodinner,butshe’seasedupalot.EspeciallyafterPatrickstartedtellingstories,givingKennaahighlightreelofDiem’slife.He’stellingherthestoryofwhenDiembrokeherarmsixmonthsago.
“Shespentthefirsttwoweeksthinkingshehadtowearthecastforever.Noneofusthoughttotellherthatbreaksheal,andDiemassumedwhenapersonbrokeabone,itstayedbrokenforgood.”
“Oh,no,”Kennasays,laughing.ShelooksdownatDiemandrunsasoothinghandoverherhead.“Youpoorthing.”
DiemreachesahandtowardKenna,andsheacceptsit.DiemeffortlesslyslipsoffmylapandontoKenna’s.Ithappenssofastandquietly.DiemtucksherselfintoKenna,andKennawrapsherarmsaroundDiemlikeit’sthemostnaturalthingintheworld.
We’reallstaringatthem,butKennadoesn’tnoticebecausehercheekispressedagainstthetopofDiem’shead.IswearI’mabouttoloseitrighthereatthetable.Iclearmythroatandpushmychairback.
Idon’tevenexcusemyselfbecauseIfeellikemyvoicewillcrackifItrytospeak,soIsilentlyleavethetableandwalkoutback.
Iwanttogivethefourofthemprivacy.I’vebeensomewhatofabufferforallofthemtoday,butIwantthemtointeractwithoutmethere.IwantKennatofeelcomfortablewiththemandnothavetoleanonmeforthatcomfort,becauseit’simportantshehavearelationshipwiththemoutsideofme.
IcouldtellPatrickandGracewerepleasantlysurprisedathowdifferentsheisfromwhatweallexpectedhertobe.
Itprovesthattime,distance,anddevastationallowpeopleenoughopportunitytocraftvillainsoutofpeopletheydon’tevenknow.ButKennawasneveravillain.Shewasavictim.Weallwere.
Thesunhasn’tsetyet,butit’sgettingclosetoeight,andthat’sDiem’sbedtime.I’msureKennaisnowherenearreadytoleave,butI’mlookingforwardtotheaftermathoftoday.IwanttogetheraloneandbenearherwhilesheprocesseswhatI’msurehasbeenthebestdayofherlife.
Thebackdooropens,andPatrickwalksontotheporch.Hedoesn’tsitdowninachair.Heleansagainstoneofthepillarsandstaresoutoverthebackyard.
WhenIlefthimandGracealonewiththeletterlastnight,Iwasexpectingsomesortofimmediatereaction.Iwasn’tsurewhatitwouldbe,butIthoughtI’dgetsomething.Atext,aphonecall,aknockatmyfrontdoor.
Igotnothing.
TwohoursafterIleftthem,Ifinallyworkedupthecouragetolookoutmywindowattheirhouse,andalltheirlightswereout.
I’veneverfeltashopelessasIfeltinthatmoment.Ithoughtmyeffortshadfailed,butthismorning,afteranentirenightofinsomnia,Iheardaknockatmydoor.
WhenIopenedit,GracewasstandingtherewithoutDiemorPatrick.Hereyeswerepuffylikeshe’dbeencrying.“IwanttomeetKenna.”That’sallshesaid.
Wegotinmytruck,andItookhertoKenna’sapartmentnotknowingwhattoexpect,orifshewasgoingtoacceptKennaorrejectKenna.WhenwearrivedatKenna’splace,Graceturnedtomebeforeexitingmytruck,andshesaid,“Areyouinlovewithher?”
TherewasabsolutelynohesitationwhenInodded.
“Why?”
Therewasnohesitationafterthatquestioneither.“You’llsee.Shemakesitahellofaloteasiertoloveherthanhateher.”
Gracesatinsilenceforamomentbeforefinallygettingoutofmytruck.SheseemedalmostasnervousasIwas.Wewalkedupstairstogether,andshetoldmeshewantedsometimealonewithKenna.Ashardasitwasnotknowingwhatwasbeingsaidbetweentheminsidethatapartment,itisn’tnearlyashardasnotknowingwhatPatrickthinksaboutallthis.
Wehaven’thadachancetotalkaboutitatall.I’mguessingthat’swhyhe’southere.
MyhopeisthatheandGraceareonthesamepage,buttheymightnotbe.HemightonlybeacceptingKennabecauseGraceneedshimto.
“Whatareyouthinking?”Iaskhim.
Patrickscratcheshisjaw,mullingovermyquestion.Heanswerswithoutlookingdirectlyatme.“IfyouwouldhaveaskedmethatquestionwhenyouandKennaarrivedafewhoursago,IwouldhavetoldyouI’mstillpissedatyou.AndthatI’mnotsorryforhittingyou.”Hepausesandsitsdownonthetopporchstep.Heclaspshishandstogetherbetweenhiskneesandlooksoveratme.“ButthatchangedwhenIsawyouwithher.WhenIsawthewayyoulookedather.ThewayyoureyestearedupwhenDiemcrawledontoherlapatthedinnertable.”Patrickshakeshishead.“I’veknownyousinceyouwereDiem’sage,Ledger.NotonetimeinalltheyearsI’veknownyouhaveyouevergivenmeasinglereasontodoubtyou.Ifyou’retellingmeKennaisworthyofDiem,thenIbelieveyou.TheleastIcandoisbelieveyou.”
Fuck.
Ilookawayfromhimandwipeatmyeyes.Istilldon’tknowwhattodowithallthesefuckingfeelings.TherehavebeensomanysinceKennareturned.
Ileanbackinmychairwithoutacluehowtorespondtohim.MaybeIdon’t.Maybehiswordsareenoughforthisconversation.
Wesitinsilenceforaminuteortwo.ItfeelsdifferentfromtheboutsofsilenceI’vesatthroughwithhimbefore.Thistime,thequietiscomfortableandpeacefulandnotatallsad.
“Holyshit,”Patricksays.
Ilookoverathim,buthisfocusisonsomethinginthebackyard.Ifollowhislineofsightuntil…no.Noway.
“I’llbedamned,”Isayquietly.“Isthat…isthatafuckingpigeon?”
Itis.It’sanactualpigeon.Areallivewhite-and-graypigeonjustwalkingaroundinthebackyardlikethisisn’tthemostmiraculoustimingabirdhaseverhadinthehistoryofbirds.
Patricklaughs.It’salaughfullofbewilderment.
Helaughssomuchitmakesmelaugh.
Buthedoesn’tcry.It’sthefirsttimeareminderofScottydoesn’tmakehimcry,andIfeellikethisishuge.Notonlybecausethechancesofthisrandompigeonlandinginthisbackyardatthisverymomentareprobablyoneinabillion,butbecausePatrickandIhaveneverhadaseriousconversationrelatedtoScottythatdidn’tendinmesneakingawaysohecouldcryalone.
Buthelaughs,andthat’sallhedoes,andforthefirsttimesinceScottydiedIfeelasenseofhopeforhim.Forallofus.
TheonlyothertimeKennahasbeeninsidemyhousewasrightaftersheshoweduponthisstreetunannounced.Thatwasn’tagoodexperienceforeitherofus,sowhenIopenmyfrontdoorandguideherinside,Iwanthertofeelwelcome.
I’mlookingforwardtogettingKennaalltomyselftonight,inanactualbed.Thefewtimeswe’vebeentogetherhavebeendamnnearperfect,butI’vealwaysfeltshedeservedbetterthananinflatablemattress,ormytruck,orahardwoodfloor.
Iwanttoshowheraround,butmyneedtokissherisstronger.AssoonasIclosethefrontdoor,Ipullhertome.IkissherthewayI’vebeenwantingtokissherallnight.It’sthefirstkisswithoutalittlesadnessorfearinit.
Thisismyfavoritekisssofar.ItgoesonforsolongIforgetaboutshowingheraroundthehouse,andIpickherupandtakeherstraighttomybed.WhenIlowerhertothemattress,shesprawlsoutandsighs.
“Oh,myGod,Ledger.It’ssosoft.”
Ireachtotheremotenexttomybedandturnthemassagemodeonsothebedvibrates.Itmakeshergroan,butwhenItrytolowermyselfontopofher,shekicksmetotheside.“Ineedaminutetofullyappreciateyourbed,”shesays,closinghereyes.
Isidleupnexttoherandstareatthesmileonherface.Iliftahandandgentlyoutlineherlips,barelytouchingthem.ThenItracemyfingertipsacrossherjawanddownherneck.
“Iwanttotellyousomething,”Isayquietly.
Sheopenshereyesandsmilesgently,waitingformetospeak.
Ibringmyhandbackuptoherfaceandtouchherimpeccablemouthagain.“I’vespentthelastcoupleofyearstryingtobeagoodrolemodelforDiem,soI’vereadafewbooksonfeminism.Ilearnedthatputtingtoomuchfocusonagirl’slookscanbedamaging,soinsteadoftellingDiemhowprettyIthinksheis,Iputthefocusonallthethingsthatmatter,likehowsmartsheisandhowstrongsheis.I’vetriedtreatingyouthesameway.It’swhyI’venevercomplimentedyourlooksbefore,ortoldyouhowfuckingbeautifulIthinkyouare,butI’mgladI’venevertoldyoubeforethismoment,becauseyou’veneverbeenmorebeautifulthanyouarerightnow.”Ikissthetipofhernose.“Happinesslooksgoodonyou,Kenna.”
Shetouchesmycheekandsmilesupatme.“Thankstoyou.”
Ishakemyhead.“I’mnotresponsiblefortonight.I’mnottheonewhosavedupeverypennyandmovedtothistownandwalkedtoworkeverydaytotryand—”
“Iloveyou,Ledger.”Shesaysitsoeffortlessly,likeit’stheeasiestthingshe’seversaid.“Youdon’thavetosayitback.Ijustwantyoutoknowhowmuchyou—”
“Iloveyoutoo.”
Shegrinsandthenpressesherlipsfirmlytomine.Itrytokissherback,butshe’sstillsmilingagainstmymouth.AsmuchasIwanttotakeoffherclothesandwhisperIloveyourepeatedlyagainstherskin,I’dmuchratherjustholdherforawhileandgiveusbothtimetoprocesseverythingthathappenedtoday.
Somuchhappenedtoday.Andthere’sstillsomuchleft.“I’mnotmoving,”Isay.
“Whatdoyoumean?”
“I’mnotsellingthishouse.I’mgoingtosellthenewone.Iwanttostayhere.”
“Whendidyoudecidethat?”
“Justnow.Mypeoplearehere.Thisismyhome.”
MaybeI’mcrazy,consideringhowmanyhoursI’veputintobuildingthathouse,butRomanputthosehoursintoo.MaybeI’llsellittoRomanforthecostofmaterials.It’stheleastIcando.Afterall,Romanmighthavebeenthecatalystforhowtodayturnedout.HadhenotforcedmetogobackandcheckonKennathatnight,I’mnotsureanyofuscouldhavegottentothispoint.
Kennaisdonetalking,apparently.Shekissesme,andshedoesn’tstopuntilanhourlaterwhenwe’reexhaustedandsweatyandsatiatedandwrappedineachother’sarms.Istareatheruntilshefallsasleep,andthenIstareupattheceilingbecauseIcan’tfallasleep.
Ican’tstopthinkingaboutthatfuckingpigeon.
WhatarethechancesScottyhadnoconnectiontothat?Whatarethechanceshedid?
Itcouldhavejustbeenacoincidence,butitalsocouldhavebeenasign.Amessagefromwhereverheis.
Maybeitdoesn’tmatterwhethersomethingisacoincidenceorasign.Maybethebestwaytocopewiththelossofthepeopleweloveistofindtheminasmanyplacesandthingsaswepossiblycan.Andintheoffchancethatthepeoplewelosearestillsomehowabletohearus,maybeweshouldneverstoptalkingtothem.
“I’mgoingtobesogoodtoyourgirls,Scotty.Ipromise.”CHAPTERFORTY-TWO
KENNA
IunbuckleDiemfromherboosterseatandhelpheroutofLedger’struck.Ialreadyhavethecrossinmyhand,soIgrabthehammerfromthefloorboard.
“Yousureyoudon’twantmetohelp?”Ledgerasks.
Ismileathimreassuringlyandshakemyhead.ThisissomethingIwanttodowithDiem.
IleadhertotheedgeoftheroadwhereIfirstfoundthecross,andIkickaroundinthegrassanddirtwiththetoeofmysneakeruntilIfindtheholethecrosswasin.IhandthecrosstoDiem.“Seethathole?”
Sheleansforwardtoinspecttheground.
“Stickitrightthere.”
Diemdrivesthecrossintothehole.“Whyareweputtingthishere?”
Ipushdownonthecross,makingsureit’sstable.“Becauseit’llmakeyournanahappytoknowit’shere,incasesheeverdrivesby.”
“Willitmakemydaddyhappy?”
IkneeldownnexttoDiem.I’vemissedsomuchofherlife,whichiswhyIwanteveryminutewespendtogethertobeauthentic.I’malwaysastruthfulasIcanbewithher.
“No.Probablynot.Yourdaddythoughtmemorialsweresilly.Butyournanadoesn’t,andsometimeswedothingsforpeoplewelove,eventhoughwewouldn’tchoosetodothosethingsforourselves.”
Diemreachesforthehammer.“CanIdoit?”
Ihandherthehammer,andshehitsthecrossafewtimes.Itdoesn’tdomuch,sowhenshehandsthehammerbacktome,Ihititthreetimesuntilit’ssecuredintotheground.
IwrapmyarmsaroundDiem,andwestareatthecross.“Isthereanythingyouwanttosaytoyourdaddy?”
Diemthinksaboutitforamomentandthensays,“WhatdoIsay?DoImakeawish?”
Ilaugh.“Youcantry,buthe’snotagenie,orSantaClaus.”
“Iwishforababysisterorababybrother.”
Don’tyoudaregrantherwishyet,Scotty.I’veknownLedgerforalloffivemonths.
IpickupDiemandwalkherbacktothetruck.“Ittakesmorethanawishtomakeasibling.”
“Iknow.WehavetobuyaneggfromWalmart.That’showbabiesgrow.”
Ibuckleherintotheboosterseat.“Notexactly.Babiesgrowintheirmother’stummies.RememberhowItoldyouthatyougrewinmytummy?”
“Oh,yeah.Thencanyougrowanotherbaby?”
IstareatDiem,notsurehowtoanswerthat.“Howaboutwejustgetanothercat?Ivyneedsafriend.”
Diemthrowsherhandsintheair,excited.“Yes!Anotherkitten!”
Ikissherontheheadandshutherdoor.
Ledgerisside-eyeingmewhenIopenthepassengerdoor.Hepointstothemiddleoftheseat,soIscootallthewayoverandbucklein.Hegrabsmyhandandthreadsourfingerstogether.He’slookingatmewithaglimmerinhiseye,asiftheideaofgivingDiemasiblingexciteshim.
Ledgerkissesme,andthenhestartstodrive.
Forthefirsttimeinalong,longtime,Iwanttolistentotheradio.Iwanttohearanysong,eventhesadones.Ileanforwardandturnontheradio.It’sthefirsttimewe’velistenedtoanythinginthistruckotherthanthesafeplaylistLedgermademe.
HeglancesatmewhenherealizeswhatI’vedone.Ijustsmileathimandleanagainsthisshoulder.
MusicstillmakesmethinkofScotty,butthinkingofScottynolongermakesmesad.NowthatI’veforgivenmyself,theremindersofhimonlymakemesmile.
TheEndEPILOGUE
DearScotty,
I’msorryIhardlywritetoyouanymore.IusedtowritetoyoubecauseIwaslonely,soIguessit’sagoodthingthelettersarefewandfarbetweennow.
Istillmissyou.I’llalwaysmissyou.ButI’mconvincedthattheholesyouleftbehindareonlyholesfeltbyus.Whereveryouare,you’recomplete.That’swhatmatters.
Diemisgrowingsofast.Shejustturnedseven.It’shardtowrapmymindaroundtheideathatIwasn’thereforthefirstfiveyearsofherlifebecauseitfeelslikeI’vealwaysbeenhere.I’msurethathasalottodowithLedgerandyourparents.Theytellmestoriesabouthergrowingupandshowmevideos,soitsometimesseemslikeImissednothingatall.
Idon’tknowthatDiemevenremembersalifewithoutmeinit.Toher,I’vealwaysbeenhere.Iknowthat’sbecauseallthepeoplewholovedyougavehereverythingsheneededwhenyouandIcouldn’tbethere.
Shestillliveswithyourparents,althoughIseehereveryday.ShestayswithLedgerandmeatleasttwonightsaweek.Shehasherownbedroomatbothhouses.Weeatdinnertogethereverynight.
I’dloveforhertolivewithmefulltime,butIalsoknowit’simportantshekeeptheroutineshe’shadsincebirth.AndPatrickandGracedeservetobethemajorcomponentinherlife.Iwouldneverwanttotakethatfromthem.
Sincethedaytheyacceptedmeintoherlife,I’veneverfeltunwelcome.Notforonedayorevenonesecond.Theydidn’tacceptmewithconditions.TheyjustacceptedmelikeIbelongherewithallthepeoplewholovedyou.
Youweresurroundedbygoodpeople,Scotty.Fromyourparentstoyourbestfriendtoyourbestfriend’sparents,Ihavenevermetafamilymoreloving.
Thepeoplethatwereinyourlifearenowthepeoplewhoareinmylife,andI’lldoeverythingIcantocontinuetoshowthemasmuchloveandrespectasyougavethem.I’lltreateachofmyrelationshipswiththesamelevelofsignificanceandrespectIgivetothenamingprocess.
YouknowhowseriouslyItakenamingthings.IthoughtlongandhardaboutwhattonameDiemwhenshewasborn,andIeventookthreedaystonameIvy.
ThelastnameIhandedouttwoweeksagowasbyfaroneofthemoreimportantones,yetsomehowtheeasiestnametocomeupwith.
Whentheyplacedournewbornsononmychest,Ilookeddownathimthroughtearyeyes,andIsaid,“Hi,Scotty.”
Love,
KennaKENNAROWAN’SPLAYLIST
1)“RaiseYourGlass”—P!nk
2)“Dynamite”—BTS
3)“Happy”—PharrellWilliams
4)“ParticleMan”—TheyMightBeGiants
5)“I’mGood”—TheMowgli’s
6)“YellowSubmarine”—TheBeatles
7)“I’mTooSexy”—RightSaidFred
8)“Can’tStoptheFeeling!”—JustinTimberlake
9)“Thunder”—ImagineDragons
10)“RuntheWorld(Girls)”—Beyoncé
11)“UCan’tTouchThis”—MCHammer
12)“ForgotAboutDre”—Dr.DrefeaturingEminem
13)“Vacation”—DirtyHeads
14)“TheLoadOut”—JacksonBrowne
15)“Stay”—JacksonBrowne
16)“TheKingofBedsideManor”—BarenakedLadies
17)“EmpireStateofMind”—JAY-Z
18)“PartyintheU.S.A.”—MileyCyrus
19)“FuckingBestSongEverrr”—Wallpaper.
20)“ShakeItOff”—TaylorSwift
21)“Bang!”—AJRACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Youmighthavenoticedtherewasneveralocationspecifiedforwherethisstoryactuallytakesplace.I’veneverhadthisissueinabook—solidifyingalocationforthecharacters.IjustkeptplacingKennaindifferenttownswhilewritingherstory,andnoneofthemfeltrightbecausetheyallfeltright.
TherearepeoplelikeKennaeverywhere,ineverytown.Peoplewhofeelaloneintheworld,nomatterwherethey’relocated.WhenIfinishedthebook,IrealizedIstilldidn’tpinpointtheexactsetting,buttheambiguityofwhereKenna’sstoryunfoldssomehowfeltright.Sothisisyourpermissiontoimaginethisstorytakesplacewhereveryouareintheworld.Nomatterhowwholeourneighborsappearontheoutside,wehavenoideahowmanybrokenpiecesthey’remadeupofontheinside.
Readingisahobby,butforsomeofus,it’sanescapefromthedifficultiesweface.Toallofyouwhoescapeintobooks,Iwanttothankyouforescapingintothisone.ButIalsowanttoapologizeforneverbeingabletowriteromanticcomedies,nomatterhowmuchItry.Istartedthisonethinkingitwasgoingtobearomanticcomedy,butobviouslythecharactersweren’tinthemoodforthat.Maybenexttime.
Ialsowanttothankthosewhoreadthisbookearlyandgavemesuchhelpfulfeedback:Pam,Laurie,Maria,Chelle,Brooke,Steph,Erica,Lindsey,Dana,Susan,Stephanie,Melinda,andI’msuretherearemorewhowillreaditandgivemefeedbackaftertheseacknowledgmentsaresubmitted,sothisisalsoathank-youtothosewhohelpmeoutlastminutebutdon’tgetthepubliccredit.
Andahugethank-youtotwosisters,KennaandRowan.IsawyournamesinmyreadergroupandstolethemforthisbookbecauseIthoughtthey’dmakeagreatcharactername,soIhopeIdidyournamesjustice!
Iwanttothankmyagent,JaneDystel,andmyforeignrightsagent,LaurenAbramo.Youladiesandyourteamofcoworkersaresoattentiveandamazingandpatient
Ahugethank-youtoMontlakePublishing,AnhSchluep,LindseyFaber,CherylWeisman,KristinDwyer,AshleyVanicek,andeveryoneelsewhohadahandinthecreationanddistributionofthisbook.Youguyshavebeenadreamtoworkwith,andIappreciatetheentireMontlaketeamsomuch.
Thankyoutomyhypeteam,StephanieandErica.
Thankyou,LaurenLevine,forbelievinginme.Always.
Ahugethank-youtoallthepeoplewhoworksohardfortheBookwormBoxandBookBonanza.Thecharitywouldn’texistwithoutanyofyou.
Thankyoutomysisters,LinReynoldsandMurphyFennell.You’rebothmyfavoritesisters.
ThankyoutoMurphyRaeandJeremyMeerkreebsforansweringmyearlyquestions.Youradviceresultedintheideaforthisnovel,sothankyouboth!
ToHeath,Levi,Cale,andBeckham.Thankyoufortreatingmelikeaqueen.I’vebeengiftedthebestfourmenontheplanet,world.Don’t@me.
Tomymother.ThankyouforbeingmyfirstandmostenthusiasticreaderofeverysinglebookIwrite.Notsuremostofthemwouldgetfinishedifitweren’tforyou.
Also,um,TikTok!Whattheheck?WHATINTHEHECK?Idon’tevenknowwhattosay.ThoseofyouontheBookToksideofthatapphavehelpednotonlymybooksreachnewreaders,butthebooksofsomanyauthors.Yourloveforreadinghasmadenewreadersandhashelpedtheentirepublishingindustryinhugeways.It’sabeautifulthingtowitness.
Andlastly…thankyoutothemembersofColleenHoover’sCoHortsonFacebook.Youguysbrightenmydayeveryday.
Thankyou,world,andallwhoinhabitit!ABOUTTHEAUTHOR
Photo?ChadGriffith
ColleenHooveristhe#1NewYorkTimesbestsellingauthorofseveralnovels,includingthebestsellingwomen’sfictionnovelItEndswithUsandthebestsellingpsychologicalthrillerVerity.ShewontheGoodreadsChoiceAwardforBestRomancethreeyearsinarow—forConfess(2015),ItEndswithUs(2016),andWithoutMerit(2017).Confesswasadaptedintoaseven-episodeonlineseries.In2015,HooverandherfamilyfoundedtheBookwormBox,abookstoreandmonthlysubscriptionserviceofferingsignednovelsdonatedbyauthors.Allprofitsaregiventovariouscharitieseachmonthtohelpthoseinneed.HooverlivesinTexaswithherhusbandandtheirthreeboys.Visitwww.ColleenHoover.com