The Grove (5 page)

The envelope was on the kitchen table. My name was written on the front in handwriting I recognized right away. When I slid my finger under the flap, the envelope tore and something fell out and landed on the table. For a moment I didn’t move. Then I reached down and picked up the bracelet.

It was made out of red and blue string, and the colors vibrated off each other like something alive. I squeezed it between my fingers then held it under my nose and inhaled.

Eventually, I unfolded the note and read:

I read it twice, then dropped it on the table and walked down the hall to our bedroom. Her closet was empty. All she’d left were a few wire hangers and an empty cardboard box where she’d kept her shoes.

I felt like I’d been robbed.

I grabbed a pair of pants from my drawer and slid them on, then went back to the kitchen and took a few beers from the case I’d bought that morning. I put the rest in the refrigerator then went out to the porch.

The afternoon was calm and warm. I leaned back in my wicker chair and opened one of the beers.

By the time I’d finished the first one and half the second, I was in tears. It was the first time I’d cried since the funeral over a year ago.

Fifteen years with Liz, twelve with Clara. All of it in the same house, overlooking the same field and the same empty road unfurling under a turquoise sky.

I let the tears come.

When I finished my beer, I set the empty bottle on the porch next to my feet, then leaned back and closed my eyes.

Liz still loved me, even told me so in the note. Things could be fixed. I hadn’t pushed her away for good. She’d come back if the situation improved and if I started taking my pills.

But I hoped there was another way.

The only other chance I had was finding the person who’d killed Jessica. If I could do that, Liz would see I was a good person and she’d come back, pills or no pills.

The idea made me smile. I got up and walked down the steps and across the lawn to my truck. I kept thinking about how Liz would react if I found Jessica’s killer. But not just Liz—everyone in town would know.

I’d be a hero.

I grabbed my whiskey-soaked clothes from the back of the truck and shook the rest of the broken glass out over the driveway, then took them inside and tossed them in the washing machine. I added soap and turned on the water then went back to the bedroom.

My clothes from the night before were lying in a pile in the corner. They were soaked through, and when I picked them up, water dripped off them and onto the floor.

I held them out in front of me, examining the streaks of mud and trying to make sense of what I was seeing. I’d come inside long before the heavy rain started. I even remembered taking them off before going to bed. They hadn’t been wet, and they definitely hadn’t been muddy.

I walked back to the laundry room, holding the clothes out in front of me, then dropped them on top of the dryer and spread them out.

There was a lump in the front pocket of the pants. I reached inside, and my hand closed on something cold and metal and round. I took it out and held it in my palm, felt my throat tighten. It was a ring.

There was tape wrapped around the underside of the band. A football and goal posts were embossed on one side, the initials JHS on the other.

Jessica’s ring.

I walked through the field and crossed the ravine to the cottonwood grove. There was no wind, and the trees were silent and still. I saw the black fabric of Jessica’s uniform in the bend of corn beyond the trees, and I squeezed the ring tight in my hand, feeling it dig into my palm.

I stopped at the edge of the grove, looked down at the ring, and traced the embossed goal posts with my finger.

I still couldn’t believe it.

I had no memory of taking the ring off her finger and no idea how it’d wound up in my pocket, but it was there just the same. The only explanation I could think of was one I wasn’t ready to accept.

I looked at Jessica’s body in the corn then moved closer. The rain had been heavy the night before, and the ground around her was soft and damp. If I had been out there last night, any sign had been washed away.

Jessica’s uniform was wet and covered with leaves that had been knocked loose off the corn. I crouched next to her and brushed them away, then looked at her right hand. The palm was facing up, but I could see the metal band on her middle finger.

The ring was still there.

I held up the one I’d found in my pocket and examined it again, then reached for her right hand and turned it over.

The ring she had on was a JHS class ring, just like the one I’d found, except this one had a baseball and an American flag embossed on the side.

My ring.

I felt the air rush out of my lungs and tore at the ring on her finger, trying to get it to come off. It was tight, and when I pulled, I felt her skin slide loose over the bone.

When it came off I held the ring up for a better look. I knew every scratch and imperfection. It was definitely my ring.

I sat down hard on the ground next to her body and tried to calm myself. It didn’t work.

I had been out the night before. I’d swapped the rings and had no memory of doing it.

I got to my knees and put my ring in my pocket, then took Jessica’s hand and tried to slide her ring back on her middle finger. It wouldn’t go. Her finger had swollen, and the ring wouldn’t slide past the second knuckle.

I felt my heart throb in the back of my throat, and tried to peel the tape off the band. My hands shook and it took a few tries, but eventually the tape came off. When I tried again, the ring slid on easily.

I put her hand back at her side, palm up, then stood and gathered the tape from the ground and started back toward the grove.

I told myself that no one knew the tape had been there and that everything was going to be OK.

As long as the rings were all there was.

I thought about the night before and tried to remember anything else I might’ve done, but all I remembered was climbing into bed and going to sleep, nothing more.

I’d never had a blackout so total, and it scared me. In the past I’d always been able to piece together my actions, but this time there was only emptiness.

A skip in my memory.

I passed through the grove and back into the ravine. My tractor was still where I’d left it. I walked over and leaned against it and tried to think.

The idea of going back on my pills didn’t seem quite so bad anymore.

I was in over my head, and it was obvious.

I wanted to find the people responsible for Jessica’s death, and I wanted to show Liz she could trust me again, but without my pills I wouldn’t be able to do either.

I had to stop kidding myself.

I climbed out of the ravine and walked through the break in the cornfield toward home. As I walked, I heard Jessica’s voice in my mind. Not strong like before, but just as clear.

“It never used to fit. They’ll know.”

I stopped walking and looked down at the crumple of tape in my hand, then back toward the grove.

When they found the body, they’d know I’d been out there. I wouldn’t be able to hide it anymore, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

They’d know.

Everyone would know.

The cornfield seemed to spin, and for a moment my vision darkened. I thought I heard someone’s footsteps coming down the path in the corn behind me. I turned. There was a shadow, and for a moment I thought I saw—

Nothing.

I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing and the beat of my heart. When I opened them again, everything was back to normal.

I scanned the path and the rows of corn around me. Then, when I was sure I was alone, I turned and kept walking toward home.

“
Hello, you’ve reached the Rowe residence. Please leave a message and I’ll call you back
.”

I waited for the beep.

“Liz, call me as soon as you get this. We need to talk about a few things.” I spoke slow and tried to sound casual. “Nothing big, just some things I’ve been thinking about.”

I paused, then said, “Mostly I wanted to tell you I’m sorry for the other night. Everything came to the surface and I wasn’t myself. You know that’s not me, Liz. You know I’d never hurt you, I was just confused and angry, I didn’t know what—”

The machine beeped and cut me off.

I held the phone against my ear for a moment then redialed Liz’s mother’s house. It rang five times before the machine picked up.

“Me again,” I said after the beep. “I can tell you all this when you call me back, but if you don’t plan on doing that, I need to say one more thing.”

I looked up at the kitchen window and saw the afternoon sun reflecting in from the outside world. I heard Jessica’s voice tell me there were other options, that I didn’t have to say anything.

I ignored her.

“I’m going to start my medication again.”

Jessica’s voice faded, and I felt completely alone.

“I know I should start the pills and then tell you, but I wanted you to know right away. Tomorrow I’m going into town to fill my prescription. It’s been a while, but I shouldn’t have any problems. If I do, I’ll have them call Dr. Conner up at Archway. He’ll take care of it over the phone.”

I crossed to the refrigerator and grabbed a beer. Something moved outside the window, but I didn’t look up, didn’t want to. Instead, I set the bottle on the table and paced the room while I spoke.

“I want you to know you don’t have to be scared of me and you don’t have to leave.” I paused. “I mean, I’m not saying you should come home tonight or anything, I just—”

The machine beeped and clicked off.

“Shit.”

I hung up and redialed and waited for the beep again, then said, “Tell Ellen I’m sorry. I shouldn’t leave all of this on her machine, so I’ll make this one short. I’d like you to come home when you feel better about us, OK? We can work through this together, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes because I love you.”

Jessica’s voice came again, stronger this time, bouncing through my mind in a little girl’s singsong tone.

“But she doesn’t love you.”

I sat at the table and picked at the label on the bottle, then took a drink. Jessica’s voice was getting louder, closer, repeating over and over.

“But she doesn’t love you. She doesn’t love you.”

I closed my eyes and bit the insides of my cheeks and whispered, “Stop it.”

I didn’t think I’d said it loud enough for it to come through on the message, but just in case I thought it might be a good idea to hang up. The last thing I wanted was to sound crazy.

“Call me please, Liz,” I said. “I lov—”

The machine clicked off.

I let the phone drop. It bounced off my lap, hit the floor, and slid toward the wall, pulled by the cord.

I sat for a while, breathing slow, trying to silence Jessica’s voice in my head.

Eventually it faded.

I finished my beer, then took a bottle of Johnny Walker from the cabinet and went outside. I sat on the porch steps and stared out at the field.

I wondered if Liz would return my call.

Part of me didn’t think she would.

I sat and drank for a long time. After a while, I eased back on the porch, closed my eyes, and slept.

I didn’t dream.

When I woke, the shadows had stretched long toward the east. The wind had picked up, and the cottonwoods in the grove swayed like false gods, holding dominion over their flock.

I looked down at the bottle. It was almost gone, and I considered getting up and grabbing another. Instead, I stayed where I was and closed my eyes again, imagining Liz was there with me.

I pictured her dark hair pulled back and tied into a loose bun just above her neck, the way she’d worn it every summer since we’d met. She was sitting in her chair, her legs tucked under her, a book open on her lap.

“What are you reading?” I asked.

She looked up and smiled, then went back to her book.

Behind her the sunlight dripped soft and golden across the field. I watched her for a while, then said, “You didn’t have to leave. We could’ve worked things out.”

She ignored me, but I didn’t care. I needed to talk to someone, anyone, real or not.

I stared out at the field and the wide break in the rows further down.

“I think I might’ve done something really bad,” I said. “The night you were here.”

No answer.

“I had a blackout. The first one since Tony Quinn.”

Liz and I hadn’t discussed Tony since before we were married, and I knew if anything would get her attention, it was the mention of his name. But she still didn’t look up from her book.

“I think it happened again, but I’m not sure.”

Somewhere far off, I heard someone laugh. It was a girl’s voice; then it was gone.

I thought about Tony and the night downtown and how the blood had looked black under the streetlight. I remembered the small chip of bone they’d found in my pocket after I’d been arrested, how it’d been perfectly clean and smooth and white. I remember hoping they’d let me keep it, but they didn’t.

“I feel like things are spinning away from me again,” I felt tears behind my eyes, but I pushed them back. “God, I wish you hadn’t left. I wish you’d stayed here with me.”

I looked over at Liz, but she’d changed. Her hair hung down over her shoulders, shielding her face. The book was gone and she was staring at her lap, absently tracing the thin gold hem of her black dress with her thumb.

I stared at her. “Where did you get that dress?”

She didn’t answer. I asked again.

She looked up and smiled. Her teeth were mossy and gray, and when she spoke her voice sounded thick and wet.

“I thought you’d like it.”

I opened my eyes and sat up fast.

I felt the whiskey climb toward my throat and I swallowed hard to keep it down.

“Dexter?”

Jessica’s voice.

I closed my eyes and tried to push it out of my head. I couldn’t shake the image of Liz in the Riverside Café uniform or the sound of her voice, like she’d been talking through gravel.

“Dexter?”

I heard something shift on the porch to my right, and when I looked up I had to force myself not to cry out. Instead, I jerked away, sliding back across the porch.

“Are you OK?”

I didn’t say anything, just stared.

Jessica was sitting in Liz’s chair with her elbows on her knees, her chin resting on one upturned palm.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.”

She smiled, and her skin looked pink and clean and smooth in the afternoon light.

I didn’t smile back, and I didn’t look away.

“Say something, please,” she said.

She was right next to me. I couldn’t convince myself she wasn’t, even though I knew better.

“Dex, please.”

She looked so young, so untouched. Seeing her there drained everything else away. Listening to her speak made the world seem sane.

“What the hell is this?” I asked.

Jessica bit her lower lip. Her eyes moved back and forth between mine. I saw her chest rise and fall with each breath.

“Are you mad?” she asked.

I didn’t answer right away. Instead, I turned and stared out at the field, green and gold and endless in the evening light.