The Grave Soul (26 page)

Before launching into a tirade, Octavia nodded to Jane.

Jane nodded back. So much for human warmth.

“Who created this piece of crap?” demanded Octavia, flinging it at Cordelia. “Well?” she said, hands rising to the gold belt in her designer jeans.

“What's wrong with it?” said Cordelia, moving ominously off the bed, instantly prepared for battle.

“It was designed to trumpet the opening of our new theater?”

“It was.”

“Could have fooled me.”

“Meaning?”

“The thing looks like a mattress ad.”

“I think that's my cue to duck out,” said Jane, picking up her backpack. “I'm sure you can figure this out without me.”

Cordelia turned her fuming eyes on Jane. “You'll be back tomorrow night, right?”

“You betcha.” She smiled as she skirted Octavia and left without a backward glance.

 

36

The day had finally come. For the past couple of weeks, Laurie had been packing up the clothes she needed the most while Doug was away at work, selecting memorabilia from around the trailer house and putting them in grocery bags, loading up her Windstar in preparation. She couldn't take everything she wanted because she didn't want to alert Doug that she was leaving him. She doubted that, after she had delivered the news, he'd let her back in. Because she paid the monthly bills, she'd been able to squirrel away bits of money. It was partly the reason they were behind on so many of their payments. She'd also hid some of the tips she'd received while working at Kevin's bar. She supposed that, even though she couldn't admit it to herself, she'd been planning this move subconsciously for over a year. She had slightly more than a thousand dollars stashed away. It wouldn't last long, but it was enough to give her some breathing room without Doug's paycheck.

The final straw for Laurie had come on New Year's Eve, when she'd found Jane, Kevin's bartender, beaten up on the highway a few miles from town. In retrospect, everyone realized that she'd been asking a lot of questions about the family, though at the time, nobody assigned it much significance—not until Todd Carmody mentioned to Doug that he'd seen Jane at the funeral home a week or so before Christmas. She'd given a business card to his brother, Stephen, stating that she was a private investigator. Laurie only found this out after the fact—after she'd pushed Jane out Hannah's back door with nothing but a twenty-dollar bill and a bottle of pain pills in her coat pocket. The poor woman had been so confused. Laurie was still worried about her and hoped she somehow got home safely, wherever home was. She remembered Jane's kindness that afternoon at the bar, when Laurie had come in with little money and Jane had pulled her a beer and offered her a sandwich.

As usual, Doug refused to talk about what had happened that night. All Kevin would say was that Jane was a threat, something that he and Doug had handled. End of story. Except it wasn't. Family matters had reached a tipping point, with members lining up for or against the brutal action. Hannah, Kira, Laurie, and Father Mike felt a line had been crossed. Doug and Kevin defended themselves by saying they were only doing what was necessary. Evangeline was on the fence. With the beginning of her chemo, she had so much on her mind already that nobody wanted to push her for her opinion, and yet without it, they were at an impasse.

Gazing at her bedroom one last time, Laurie figured that she was supposed to experience something profound, and yet all she felt was drained. Closing the door behind her, she stepped out into the hallway and approached the living room. Doug was seated, as usual, in his recliner rocker, watching a game on TV and smoking his pipe. He wore work clothes all week, but on the weekends, without fail, he would shower and shave, put on a clean white shirt, a tie, and his only business suit or his one sport coat and pair of dress slacks. It was as if he was informing the world that he might have to do grunt work all week, but it wasn't who he was. The spectacle of him sitting there all dressed up, getting drunk slowly on beer, a sight she'd seen so many times before, seemed overwhelmingly sad to her now. He was a pitiful wreck of a man, beaten up by life and yet still maintaining a piece of himself through it all. She silently cheered him on, knowing in her heart that if he ever stopped dressing up on weekends, it would be the end of him.

She cleared her throat.

Doug pulled the pipe out of his mouth and turned to look at her. “You going to the farmhouse today?”

“Not until tomorrow. I'm driving your mother to her chemo appointment in Eau Claire. Giving Kira a break.”

He nodded, looked back at the TV.

A six-pack of beer, minus four bottles, sat on the kitchen counter next to a half-filled bottle of tequila. “Doug?”

“Hmm?”

“I'm leaving.”

“Just go already. You don't need my permission.”

“I won't be back.” There was no easy way to say it. “I want a divorce.”

His body jerked. That was it. He gave no other outward sign that he'd heard her.

“If we can agree on terms, we can use one lawyer. It would be cheaper that way.”

He returned the pipe to his mouth.

“We don't need to talk about it now.” She waited. Digging in her pocket for her car keys, she finally said, “So, I guess this is good-bye. Doug? Please, at least say you heard me.”

“I heard.”

“Don't you have anything you want to say?”

With his eyes till on the TV, he half muttered, half slurred, “What's to say? You've already made up your mind. You made it up a long time ago.”

She couldn't argue the point. Not anymore. “I'm sorry,” she said softly. As she opened the front door, she heard him get up. Turning back to him, she saw that his face had flushed a deep red.

“I need you,” he said, his eyes pleading.

“Doug—”

“I'm not as strong as you are. Isn't there something I can do to change your mind? Just name it. I'll do anything.”

She hadn't expected this.

“Anything, Laurie. I can change. I'll be a better husband. I'll work on my temper, I swear.”

“You're an alcoholic.”

His eyes narrowed.

“Nobody ever says it out loud, but we all know it's true.”

Wiping a hand across his mouth, his eyes bounced around the room. “Sure, I drink too much. Kevin drinks a lot, too. So does Hannah. Runs in the family.”

“It's not the same. If you can't see that you have a problem, one that's wrecking your life, I don't know what's going to become of you. I'm afraid for you, Doug. Afraid that you'll get fired because you miss so much work. You give them these lame excuses, but your boss can see through that. And then what? How will you support yourself? I fear for your health, for your safety if I'm not here to look out for you. That time you fell in the snow—”

“Then stay.”

“I can't. I refuse to watch you commit suicide by alcohol. You need to get into a treatment program and some kind of personal therapy.”

“Therapy never helped anybody. It's utter bullshit. And besides, I could drink less if I wanted to. If that's what I need to do to convince you to stay, I'll do it.” He snapped his fingers. “It's not a problem, Laurie. Just give me a chance and I'll show you.”

“Stop drinking. Today. When you're clean for three months, we'll talk again.” She would never go back to him. Still, if he thought it was the price he had to pay, maybe he'd get some help.

“
Three
months?” He spit the words at her.

“Father Mike said I could stay at the rectory. He's got an extra bedroom.” She was frightened by the anger building in his eyes. “Please, Doug. Think about it.” She rushed out to her car. As she started the engine, he stumbled out onto the tiny deck. Shaking his fist at her, he screamed, “You fucking bitch. You never loved me. You think you can leave? Just like that? I won't allow it. I won't
allow
it.”

He was still standing there screaming, this time in her rearview mirror, as she pulled out onto the highway and sped away.

Laurie entered the Sportsman's shortly after four, readying herself for another difficult conversation. It was early for bar-goers, so there were only two customers seated at the counter and none at the tables. Kevin was behind the bar watching the same basketball game Doug had been watching back at the trailer. When he heard the bell above the door jingle, he turned with a smile on his face.

“Laurie,” he said, easing off his stool. “Is everything okay? You look upset.”

She hadn't thought he could read her so well. “Could we talk?” she asked quietly, nodding to the empty tables in the back.

He seemed puzzled, but recovered quickly and said, “Sure. I'll pull us a couple beers.”

She took off her coat and dropped it over the back of a chair, then sat down and fidgeted with the buttons on her cardigan, noticing that one was hanging by a thread. She pulled it off before it could fall off and slipped it into her pocket. A moment later, Kevin set a pint in front of her.

“What's up?” he asked, sitting down, drawing his own pint toward him.

She had steadfastly refused to plan out what she would say, preferring to let the conversation flow naturally. She had no expectations. She felt numb. “I've left Doug. I asked him for a divorce.”

Kevin's eyebrows shot up.

“It's been coming for a long time. We haven't been happy for years.”

“I have to say, I'm not all that surprised. But what will you do? Where will you live?”

She explained about Father Mike's offer, and that she'd saved a little money. She was temporarily okay, though it wouldn't last. “I need a job. That's why I'm here.”

He frowned and looked away.

“Hire me back, Kev. I won't quit on you this time.”

“I never understood why you quit last time.”

She searched his face. She wasn't sure how far to go. “It was just too hard.”

“Hard? Making drinks?”

“Working with you. Being around you. You like to wind down after the bar closes with a beer and conversation. You have no idea how much I looked forward to those talks. Doug and I haven't talked like that in twenty years. It made me remember—”

“We can't go there.”

“I know. That's why I quit.”

He spent a few seconds digesting her words. Turning the beer glass around in his hands, he asked, “Does Mom know?”

“That I planned to leave Doug? Yeah. I told her last week. She was surprisingly okay with it—as long as I don't ask for a divorce.”

“But you did.”

“He's an alcoholic, Kevin. I've said that to your mom before, but she always deflects it. Minimizes his drinking. But she doesn't have to live with it. I do. His temper is out of control.”

“I know,” said Kevin, looking down.

“He scares me.”

His head snapped up. “Has he hurt you?”

“I'm not talking about that.”

With his hands balled into fists, he said, “You should have told me.”

“What would you have done? Beat him up? It would have only pissed him off more. I've been holding on, trying to make things work for the sake of this family. I just … I can't do it anymore.”

He aimed his unblinking eyes at her. “God, what a mess we've made for ourselves.”

“I made the mess, Kevin. I committed the original sin. I chose Doug instead of you.” She wrapped her arms around her stomach and sat back in her seat, fighting the urge to cry. Looking up, she saw Kevin's face harden and a darkness creep into his eyes.

“You're hired,” he said flatly. “You can start tomorrow.”

“I promised to take Evangeline to Eau Claire for her chemo tomorrow. We won't be back until Tuesday afternoon.”

“That's fine. I'm starting a construction job up in Glenham tomorrow. Tammy's helping me out right now, but she doesn't want steady work. You start when you want. Just let me know. And as far as staying at the rectory, that's up to you. You're welcome to the room I have upstairs. Free of charge. For as long as you want.”

The tight ball in her stomach began to ease. “I'll take the job. But I can't stay here.”

“Because?”

“Evangeline would say it doesn't look right.”

“I don't give a rip about that. I want you here. I want to take care of you.”

“You can't. Like you said, we can't go there. That's all in the past.”

Pushing his beer away, Kevin stood. “Just think about it.” Bending close to her ear, he whispered, “You weren't the only one who looked forward to those late-night conversations, Laurie.”

 

37

Jane was chilled to the bone when she and Guthrie arrived at the Timber Lodge Motel just after eight that night. She blamed the car's heater. Even though Guthrie hadn't been bothered by the cold air coming out of the vents, Jane sure was. She borrowed his car blanket and wrapped that around her, though because it was thin, it hadn't helped much. Before heading off to their respective rooms, Jane asked Guthrie for his car keys. She was grateful that he didn't press her for why she needed them.

Lying down on the bed under a pile of blankets, Jane turned on the TV. She watched an old movie for a while, then set the alarm on the nightstand next to her for 3
A.M.
With so much on her mind, she figured there was a good chance she wouldn't need the alarm, but set it anyway, just to be on the safe side.

By two, she was up, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, looking out the window at the parking lot, itching to get her errand over with. Grabbing the car keys, she exchanged the blanket for her heavy sheepskin jacket, flipped the collar up, and left the room. As she drove through the dark, empty streets of New Dresden, she felt as if she was in an alternate universe. The last thing she needed was to run into a police cruiser. The simple fact that she was out and about at such an hour in this tomb of a town would make her presence suspicious.