Keep Quiet (25 page)

“I’m sorry,” Jake said again, because she was right and it was all he could say.

“It’s such a joke,” Pam said, disgusted without batting an eye, though she never cursed. “You finally decide to pay attention to your family. You want to step back in and reestablish a relationship with your own son, your only son. So I say, like an idiot, go pick him up at the movie. And what do you do? You decide it would be a great idea if he drove the car!” Pam raised her voice, throwing up her hands. “What a great decision! Wasn’t that a
great
decision? Wasn’t that one of your greatest, all-time decisions
ever
?”

Jake didn’t reply. She needed to blow off steam, and he deserved every word.

“Fun Dad evidently is the last one to know that a father is supposed to be a parent, not a friend. It’s Parenting 101, but you didn’t get the memo. It’s every magazine article, or on every Dr. Phil or Oprah episode
ever
.” Pam scoffed. “That’s right, she went off the air, so it’s her fault. It’s
Oprah’s
fault! Because it’s not your fault, right, Jake? It can’t be! I have a son blaming himself, but really it’s
your fault
.”

“I admit it’s my fault. I know it’s my fault.”

“I know that, too, but that doesn’t do us any good, because Ryan doesn’t know it’s true. Ryan was properly brought up, by me I might add, which means that he has a conscience. He knows the difference between right and wrong, as do I. Only
you
don’t know the difference between right and wrong.”

Jake didn’t say anything. She was right, and there was nothing to say.

“You’ll never convince him of anything else, ever,” Pam said, louder. “Even though the law would apportion the lion’s share of the guilt to you, he’ll still feel guilty. And now he feels guilty because you would be the one to go to jail and not him. The kid can’t win!”

“I tried to explain it to him—”

“I don’t know who you are, frankly!” Pam jumped to her feet. “You leave a young girl on the road,
dead
? You crash your own car? You burn evidence? You lie to the police? You lie to Amy, and to Harold? You lie to
me
!” Pam snorted. “What a bunch of bull! You made me feel bad because I questioned you with Ryan! You made me feel like I was hurting your getting close to him! You backed me down, you manipulated me, and you lied to me every step of the way! I didn’t raise a liar, but I sure as hell
married one
!
”

“Pam, I know, I’m sorry—” Jake said, then fell abruptly silent when the door opened and Ryan was standing there, his hair wet from the shower, dressed in his gray T-shirt and sweats.

“Mom.” Ryan stood in the threshold, his hand on the doorknob. His eyes were dry, and his forehead smooth and untroubled under bangs so wet they dripped on his shoulders, like raindrops. “You need to let it go now. Dad said he was sorry, and you need to get off his back.”

Jake’s mouth went dry. He knew Ryan was trying to help, but it would only upset Pam more if Ryan intervened and took Jake’s side. “Ryan, it’s okay—”

“Ryan, please, go.” Pam waved him out, agitated. “This is between your father and me. I’m sorry if you heard, but this is between us.”

“I disagree.” Ryan looked from her to Jake, oddly calm. “You were talking about the hit-and-run, and that’s not just between you guys.”

“Ryan, I—” Jake started to say, but Pam cut him off with a chop of her hand.

“Jake, why don’t you let
me
answer our son? Ryan was speaking to me and questioning what I was doing, and he deserves an answer from me, not you.”

“Fine,” Jake said, tense.

Pam continued sternly, “Ryan, in point of fact, we weren’t talking about the hit-and-run. We were talking about our relationship, about the importance of honesty in our relationship, in our marriage. So you see, it wasn’t something that includes you. It’s not the same issue.”

Ryan blinked, unusually unfazed. “Mom, you sound so much like a judge tonight. Why don’t you let it go? I think you’ve ridden Dad long enough.”

“I don’t.”

“I do.”

“Oh really?” Pam shot back, her tone sharpening. “Ryan, it’s not your place to tell me how to talk to my husband, even if he’s your father.”

“I can have an opinion.”

“No, actually, you can’t.”

“I can’t have an opinion?” Ryan snorted. “Are you serious right now?”

“Okay, you can have an opinion, but it’s not one I need to heed or even hear. You have no standing.”

Ryan pursed his lips. “Mom, why are you being such a hypocrite to Dad?”

“I’m not being a hypocrite!” Pam glared at Ryan. “How dare you say such a thing to me!”

“Mom, if you think honesty is so important in a marriage, then why don’t you tell Dad about Dr. Dave?”

Jake wasn’t sure he heard Ryan correctly, for a second.

“Ryan!” Pam barked, angry. “What are you talking about?”

Jake held his breath, betwixt and between again, knowing and not knowing.

Ryan gestured, grandly, toward Jake. “Go ahead, Mom. Tell Dad about Dr. Dave. Tell him the truth. I could tell him, but I want you to. I want to know if I was raised by a liar.”

Jake felt something give way inside his chest. He kept his eyes on Ryan, who stood motionless, because he couldn’t bring himself to look back at Pam. He didn’t want to know what she looked like right now, being confronted with an accusation. He didn’t want to see her deny it, or admit it. It had never occurred to him before, but as soon as it was given voice, he realized it couldn’t be otherwise. Because Ryan never lied, not until Jake had taught him to.

“Mom.” Ryan hesitated, evidently waiting for Pam to say something, but she didn’t. “Honesty is important in any relationship, isn’t it? What about your relationship to me? Why don’t you tell
me
what happened with Dr. Dave?”

“Nothing!” Pam said, but her tone didn’t sound as strong.

Jake still didn’t look at her.

“Nothing? Really, Mom?” Ryan grew preternaturally still. “Dr. Dave’s married, too, you know. So tell me, do you know the difference between right and wrong? Does he? Because I heard you on the phone with him, when you came to pick me up after practice. It was sophomore year, I forgot my French book and I had to go back inside, to my locker. Then I realized I had it with me, so I came around the corner and I heard you on the phone with Dr. Dave. I think it was Dr. Dave, but it was definitely somebody named Dave. Because you said, ‘I miss you, Dave. I love you.’”

Pam gasped.

Jake didn’t turn around. His body felt suddenly stiff, as if he were getting ready to absorb a blow, his muscles bracing for impact in a collision that had already occurred. It was his own personal hit-and-run, taking place not on Pike Road, but in his very home.

Ryan’s face fell, and he looked suddenly sad, but he didn’t cry. “Mom, you’re right. It isn’t my business. It’s more important that you explain it to Dad than to me.” Ryan faced Jake, with a heavy sigh. “Dad. I’m sorry. I thought you should know. Good night.” Ryan closed the door, leaving Jake facing the door, turned away from Pam.

“Jake,” Pam said hoarsely. “I can explain.”

Jake found himself walking stiffly to the door. He didn’t know why. He didn’t want to leave but he couldn’t stay.

“Jake,” Pam said, louder. “It’s over, it’s history. I ended it last year, before we went to counseling. It didn’t last that long, only six months. It was a symptom, and I knew it—”

Jake opened the door and walked out, not sure what came next. For the first time in his life, he didn’t have a plan.

Chapter Thirty-one

Jake found himself stopped at a red light, sitting at the wheel of the rental Toyota, without even remembering getting in. He came into the moment as if he’d been pulled into the present from his own subconscious, a black void that matched the darkness around him. He didn’t have his coat on but was still in his shirt and tie from work. He was stopped at an intersection, and there were no other cars on the street. The dashboard clock read 9:28
P.M.
He’d been driving for two hours.

He checked the street sign on the corner to his right, but he couldn’t read it. His eyes were blurry and his nose leaking; he realized he’d been crying. He wiped his nose on his shirt-sleeve, looked around, and saw only the spiky black trunks and branches of trees, silhouetted in the light from the windows and front-door fixtures of the large houses, whose peaked roofs and massive entrances hulked shadowy in the night.

He didn’t recognize the neighborhood. He felt dislocated, disoriented, generally out of place. He glanced at the dashboard and determined that the car had a no-frills GPS, but he didn’t bother to turn it on. He didn’t know where he wanted to go. He had no destination, so he didn’t need a route.

When the light turned green, he was in no hurry to hit the gas, but he did anyway, proceeding straight through the intersection without knowing whether he was heading north or south, toward home or away. It didn’t matter. It was all uncharted terrain. He didn’t know how he had gotten here, not only literally, but to the point where he’d become a suburban husband and father who was driving around aimlessly, in a car that wasn’t even his own. He’d worked hard his whole life and followed all the rules. He had risen out of the ashes. He was a self-made man; he had made himself and his business. But the other things he had made were a son who was self-destructing and a wife who had fallen in love with a better suit.

Jake cruised down the dark street, hollow and aching inside, thinking of Pam. He wanted to know when her affair had started, and why. He wanted to know where they did it, how they did it, how many times they did it. Where they did it, which house, which car. If she liked it better with him, if he was a better lover. Who started it, and exactly how it ended. If it ended, why he was still calling her.

The darkness seemed to envelop Jake, swallowing him whole, but still he drove forward into the void. He didn’t know what Pam saw in Dr. Dave, other than the fact that he was so frigging helpful with Ryan. Jake kicked himself for not guessing that something was going on between them. There were too many phone calls, too many times she quoted Dr. Dave. Jake began to doubt the whole shooting-coach thing, questioning whether Dr. Dave became Ryan’s shooting coach in order to get close to Pam, in the first place.

Jake had never felt so stupid in his life, ashamed that he hadn’t realized she was cheating. He’d never cheated on her and had never really been tempted. His sin had been that he worked too hard, not that he ever dreamed of straying. He saw himself in her; they were so much alike that he never imagined she’d break the rules, or break her word, ever. That was why he’d been so surprised tonight, when she’d agreed to keep the secret about Pike Road. He always thought of Pam as the good girl to his good boy, and it was more her style to do what she had eventually done—nag him until he finally went to a marriage counselor. He didn’t want to think about her sleeping with another man, underneath another man, with her legs wrapped around him.

Jake spotted another car on the road, driving toward him in the oncoming lane, its high beams on. It was the kind of thing that usually made him nuts, and he would normally blink his lights to signal the other driver to lower his high beams. If that didn’t work, he’d been known to turn on his own high beams out of spite. But tonight he didn’t do either of these things. On the contrary, he fed his car some gas, and a different idea popped into his head:

He considered crossing the yellow line and driving straight into the lights.

He drove forward and so did the oncoming car, about a hundred yards apart, then ninety, then eighty. He thought of how easy it could be, just to jerk the steering wheel to the left at the last moment. He wouldn’t have to think about it, time it, or work very hard to make it happen. It would be just like when he hit the Dumpster. Easy, peasy.

He looked directly into the high beams, and they seared into his eyes. The cars were seventy feet apart, then sixty, then fifty. He hit the gas and stared into the light, forcing himself not to squint or look away, flooding his brain with a brightness that obliterated the houses, driveways, and recycling bins, like the white-hot blast of an atomic bomb.

The other car raced toward him, its unseen driver unaware of what he was thinking, and Jake knew all he had to do to achieve the desired result was to aim his left bumper at the left bumper of the oncoming car and the impact would do the rest.

The oncoming car barreled toward him, its headlamps double-barreled beams of light, and he wondered what the driver’s face would look like, just before they crashed. Shock. Horror. Surprise.

The cars were thirty feet apart, then twenty. He gritted his teeth, squinting against the high beams. The cars were ten feet apart, and he squeezed his eyes shut, grimacing, waiting to see what would happen, and when the other car was almost upon him, he realized he couldn’t do it.

He opened his eyes and drove straight. He couldn’t kill another human being. He couldn’t be responsible for the death of anyone else, ever, in the time he had left on earth.

The other car whooshed past him, the driver not knowing what could have happened, and Jake exhaled loudly, emitting a breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding. It struck him that he hadn’t driven into the other car not only because he didn’t want to kill anyone else, but also because he didn’t want to die. He wanted to live. He wanted to redeem himself. For Kathleen Lindstrom’s tragic death. For Pam’s infidelity. For Ryan’s depression.

Jake steered down the darkened street, past the windows that looked into family rooms containing happier families. He didn’t have a plan, any longer. The time for plans was over. He didn’t believe in them anymore, anyway. Pam didn’t plan on cheating on him. Ryan didn’t plan on killing Kathleen Lindstrom. Nobody planned on the worst, but they got it just the same and had to deal. He knew the saying that “Man plans and God laughs,” but he’d learned the truth was exactly the opposite—Man plans and God cries.

His thoughts returned to Pam, without pain. He knew in his heart why she had strayed, but he loved her still. He didn’t want to give up on their marriage, no matter what. He didn’t know how she felt; he didn’t know if he was ready to find out. He hoped they could put back the pieces of their new life, one that they would make together, with Ryan. Their son needed the both of them now, more than ever, and the three of them had to go forward and hang together in a way they hadn’t before.