RAGE (21 page)

When I stepped out the door the next morning, I saw the mess. I’d forgotten to bring in the burger and fries. The neighborhood dog had found and eaten it, but the wrappers were lying on the porch. At least he hadn’t ripped the wrappers to shreds as most dogs would have done. I stooped down to pick them up.

“Hello,” said a sweet, feminine voice.

I looked up as she stepped off the top step and onto the porch, only a couple feet from me. I stood, trying to appear as though I wasn’t looking. But I noticed her painted toenails, her sandals, her ankle bracelet, her toned legs, her curvy hips wrapped in jean shorts, her white blouse, her slender neck, and her beautiful face.

“Hello,” I said in return. I wasn’t sure what else to say. I thought I was doing good to manage to speak actual words. I was so taken with her that I was certain all I’d be able to do was spew forth some nonsense. But somehow my tongue hadn’t failed me.

She smiled. “I just moved in down the street. I wanted to introduce myself. My name is Carla Jones. You probably heard my kids last night. I hope they didn’t bother you, but they were so excited to learn that we’re walking distance from a park.” She laughed lightly.

“Well, I did wonder if you always gave them caffeine before bed,” I said with a smile.

She laughed again. “No, usually, you don’t even know they’re there. They’re very good kids. Thankfully,” she said.

Andy pulled into his driveway. I could feel him staring at us. I did my best to ignore him.

“Why thankfully?” I asked.

“Well, being a single mother would be a lot harder for me if they were unruly.”

“Yeah, I guess that would make it harder. So are you moving from somewhere else or another part of town?”

I felt Andy gawking as he slowly made his way into his house and I felt myself start to blush. I knew there’d be a lot of questions from him later.

“We moved here from Dallas. My Aunt Elaine passed away last February and she left me the house in her will. I packed up the kids, and moved here. It’s scary, you know. Starting over.” She looked down the street at her kids playing in the yard and smiled.

“Elaine was your aunt, huh?” I did what I could to keep my voice from tightening.

“Yeah. Did you know her?” she asked, turning her attention back to me.

“I did. I used to shovel her walkway in the winter. I helped her carry in groceries a few times. That sort of thing. My wife knew her better than I did,” I said tightly. I was losing the battle to keep my voice loose and nonchalant. I quickly added, “I never found out what happened to her.”

“Oh, I thought you knew. Her body was found in a ditch outside of town. She died of head trauma. It looked like they used a poker. Never found out who did it.” She paused a moment, deep in thought. “You don’t think I made a mistake moving into the house, do you? It seems like a nice, quiet neighborhood, but, well, it’s the same house, and...”

I saw the hope in her eyes. I knew she needed to hear that she’d be fine on this street, in that house, and that the horrible things that had happened to her aunt were not going to happen to her. I could do that. I could tell her what she needed to hear. “No, no. You’re fine. This is a great neighborhood.”

She must’ve read something in the look on my face. “Is something wrong?” She looked at me expectantly.

I was still upset about mentioning my wife. It was like slapping a sunburn. I was used to the pain, but when I mentioned her, it stung as if it were fresh.

“No,” I said. “I know you and your kids will be very happy here.”

“Good,” she said, clearly relieved. “Guess I’d better get back. I’ll talk to you again soon. Meet your wife perhaps?” She had turned to leave, but once she saw the look on my face, she stopped. “I’m sorry,” she stammered. She pointed to my wedding ring. “I just...assumed. I’m sorry.” She was clearly confused.

I looked at my ring. Struggling to keep my voice steady and my eyes dry, I said, “It’s a long story.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

Of course she didn’t. How could she?

“Well,” she said, trying to rectify the situation. “If you ever want to tell it, let me know. I’ll cook dinner. I’m a great listener.”

“Maybe I’ll take you up on that.”

“Good. You could meet the kids.” She turned and walked away, heading for her new home and leaving behind the faint scent of her perfume. I inhaled through my nose and watched her walk away, realizing that Andy was right. She was very attractive. I immediately felt guilty for thinking such thoughts.

I didn’t have to feel guilty for long, though. Andy dashed out of his house and over to mine, running up on the porch.

“Well?” he asked, excitedly. He appeared to have been hovering at the door, waiting to run over here and bombard me with questions. When I didn’t answer, he repeated, “Well?”

“Out of the eleventy bazillion questions you have for me, this is the one you lead with?” I sat down in my chair, Andy taking the one next to me.

“I’m working my way up to the others,” he said as he crossed his legs, placing an ankle on the opposite knee.

“She’s nice. Elaine was her aunt.”

“Oh. She’s nice. That’s all you have to say?”

“What more do you want me to say? We talked for like five minutes. Besides, don’t you get enough gossip at work?”

“One can never have enough gossip. Thought you knew that. Besides I don’t think of it as gossip. I think of it as informed entertainment.”

“Informed entertainment?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I guess if that’s the word that separates you from the other ladies, then fine.”

Andy laughed. He relaxed further into the chair.

“You know what we need?” he asked. Before I could answer, “We need beer.” He jumped up and ran back to his house, returning only moments later with two ice cold bottles of beer. I would’ve protested that it was too early, but for him, it was evening. Things were always weird like this when he worked nights. Handing one to me, he plopped into the chair and put his feet up on my table. “Nice footstool,” he said.

“Don’t hate the patio furniture.”

“What’s Jenson been doing today so far?” he asked, opening his bottle.

“Don’t know. I haven’t been paying attention.” I opened my beer, appreciating the hell out of the twist off top.

From the corner of my eye, I could see Andy looking at me with a huge grin smeared across his face. I wasn’t sure how, but I knew he was going to turn this conversation into something more than it was.

“What is it, Andy?” I asked, not turning toward him.

“Haven’t been paying attention, huh? You have, just not to Jenson.” It didn’t take a team of scientific engineers to figure out what he meant by that.

I fought the urge to glance in Carla’s direction. I ignored his point and continued staring across the street at Mr. Jenson’s house.

“You ever talk to him? I mean, like really talk to him.” I asked. Andy hadn’t lived in the neighborhood as long as I had, but he was more outgoing than I was so I assumed he’d talked with him at some point. Andy had never met a stranger. While I’d been caught up in work, Andy had socialized. I teased him often about being a gossip, but it was just that he talked to everyone, so he knew more than most people did.

“Not really. Said hi a few times when he moved in a couple years ago. He’s not much of a talker, though.”

“Well, I’d have thought you’d love to talk to someone who wouldn’t interrupt your monologues and soliloquies.”

“Yeah, well, I need a challenge. You don’t exactly talk my ear off either, you know.” He took a long drink of his beer.

“Doesn’t have many visitors, does he?” I asked, ignoring his statement about my silence.

“He’s never had a visitor. At least not that I’ve seen. Of course, I work odd hours, so it’s possible that he had some and I didn’t see. Possible, but not probable. Jill’s never seen him have a visitor either.”

“You think we should visit him?”

I could almost hear the snap in his neck when he turned and glared at me.

“Are you serious? No way.” He sounded as if I’d just asked him to eat a platter of whale wiener.

“Well, you’re the one who was all for stalking him. Now you don’t want to visit? Why not? What better way to find out what he does with those bags than to be in his house and look around. Maybe even work it into a conversation.”

“Stalking is different than visiting. Besides, what are we going to do? Go over there and say ‘Excuse me, sir. But we were wondering exactly how many people you’ve killed this month. We lost track. We were keeping count of the body bags you hauled out of here, but we lost our paperwork.’ You’re crazy. No way.”

“Of course not. That’s silly. I wouldn’t call him sir.”

Andy chuckled.

“He must be lonely over there. I know how that feels,” I muttered.

Andy was silent for a while. Then, “You know, that girl really seemed to like you. If you want to visit someone, maybe you should visit her.” Holding his hands out, palms up, as if they were scales, he said, “Hot girl or old man? If that’s a tough decision for you, you’ve got problems, buddy.”

I laughed.

“I’m serious. I’ll walk you down there, if you want.” He leaned forward, as if he were going to jump out of the chair if I’d only give him the word.

I laughed again. “I’m not ready for that, Andy.”

Growing a little more serious, Andy said, “I know, but I think you should be. It’s been a long time, Owen. She’s not coming back.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat so I could down the rest of the beer. I hoped it would take some of the sting out of those words. But it didn’t. I don’t think Andy realized how raw that wound still was. I also don’t think he realized how fully aware I was that she wasn’t coming back. She would never come back. I knew that. I just don’t think he knew that I knew that.

“I’m sorry, man. I just...you’re my best friend, and I hate seeing you like this. It pisses me off. You’re a great guy. You need to be happy. And if a hot mother of two is what’ll make you happy, then I’ll walk you down the street myself.” He smiled.

I chuckled. “I’m okay.”

Andy dropped the subject for now. I knew it wasn’t over. I knew that the very next opportunity that arose, he’d be trying to talk me into going down the street to her house and asking her out. I also knew he wasn’t trying to be an ass. He was trying to be helpful. He only wanted what was best for me.

While Andy slept, Jill came over. “I figured you were hungry,” she said, handing me a large covered dish.

I waved the dish under my nose. “Smells good. Lasagna?”

“Baked spaghetti.” She shrugged her shoulders and laughed. “Same thing, I guess.”

I took the dish into the kitchen and put it in the refrigerator. I quickly returned to the porch, where Jill sat, waiting for me to sit before talking.

“Don’t you ever get tired of sitting out here?” She crossed her short legs at the ankle and clasped her hands over her belly. She rested her head on the back of the chair and fell deep into thought.

It always amazed me how every time she came over and sat on my porch, she appeared to be on vacation. It was like my porch slowed down time for her. She even looked as though she were on vacation. She had on white canvas shoes, green socks that matched her green shorts and green blouse, and a white hat with her ponytail pulled through the hole in the back. She had tourist written all over her.

I knew what she was thinking. It’s what she was always thinking and I didn’t want to talk about it. I knew I needed to talk about it with someone, and Jill would probably be the one when the time came. But I just didn’t feel that now was the time.

“Owen?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said quietly, dreading where this was heading.

“You don’t deserve what she’s done to you. No matter what happened between you two, you don’t deserve this.”

I decided to open up a little and test the waters, see if I was ready to talk about it yet. “That’s the part that kills me, Jill. Nothing happened between us. One day, everything was great, and the next day, everything was gone. In the blink of an eye.” I did my best to hide the pain from my voice, but I knew it was there. I heard it. I felt it as I spoke, and I knew she hadn’t missed it. She never missed it.

“Everything isn’t gone, Owen. Only she’s gone. And if she could do this to you, then it’s better that she left. How could she put you through this? She had to know what it would do to you. I’m going to say this, but I don’t want you to take it the wrong way.” She hesitated, probably thinking about keeping it to herself. “I’d rather you were alone than with someone who could hurt you so deeply, so easily. Does that sound horrible?”

I shook my head. I knew what she meant. And she was right. But why did it still hurt so badly after all this time? I closed my eyes and wished the hurt would stop. I wished I could either rewind my life to a time when Holly was still with me, or fast forward my life to a time when Holly’s absence meant little to me. I wondered if there would ever be such a time.

“How long will the pain last?” I asked, fighting the lump in my throat for the ability to speak.