“Fuck you, Quinn. Where did she go?”
“I don’t know, but she’s not here. Maybe she found a man who’ll give her what she really wants, yeah? Happiness. Faithfulness.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
He gripped the screen door again and pulled it hard, just as Quinn flipped up the hook, unlocking it. It flung wide open, making the giant man stumble backward. Quinn stared at him and stepped out on the porch. He faced the far larger man steeling himself for the worst.
Jack backed up a few steps.
“You wanna hit me, Jack? You want a lawsuit, hey, you go ahead.”
Quinn moved toward him a little, his arms spread wide. Jack backed all the way down the stairs with each step Quinn took forward.
“I see,” he said. “You’re such a big tough man you can punch a woman but not fight me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Just tell me where the fuck she is.”
“I don’t know,” Quinn said. “She did not tell me. I told her not to tell me. Whatever you may think, Jack, whatever she thinks, we are not a couple. We slept together a couple of times Jack, out of loneliness. She was heartbroken when you left her and she came to me. I made us both feel better a few times, but I do not have any interest in taking your wife from you.”
Jack shoved at the air, stomping around in a circle.
“You broke her heart,” Quinn said. “And now you wanna do far worse. Why the fuck did you hit her, man?”
“Hit her?”
Jack turned to him, his mouth agape, his eyes wide.
“I didn’t hit her. I would never hit her.”
“She has a bruised eye and a cut across her lips.”
“I didn’t do that man,” Jack said. He shook his head and stepped closer to Quinn. “Look, she’s got some issues, alright? Some mental shit. I couldn’t take it anymore, so I left.”
“Then, how…”
“Self-harm,” Jack said. “Look it up. The difference is, she blames someone else.” He threw up his arms with a huge sigh. “Alright. Fuck. She’s not here. I get it.” He walked back to his car. “But you if hear from her, you tell her, even if she won’t tell me where she is, she needs to at least call. I need to know she’s okay. I don’t like her running from me. I just wanted to see if we could talk things over.”
“What about Rita?”
Jack shook his head.
“If you know her man, you know already.”
Quinn smirked.
“Yeah.”
Jack got into his car and pulled out, zipping almost silently into the darkness. Quinn watched him go, the crickets and night calls slowly drowning everything else out.
“Bullshit,” he said.
“Liar.”
He glanced over at the house across the street. The old woman was staring at him from her porch where she stood, leaning against the railing.
“Liar.”
As he watched her husband stepped out, urging her to go back inside, the two of them shuffling and hunched over, her repeated word still filling the night.
“Liar.”
***
He curled up in the bed, making sure his phone was switched off. Everything swirled around in his head, twisting up his memories of the day into confusion, whispering echoing around him.
He found himself standing in a room with a ceiling so low his head almost bumped it. The light was red, then yellow, then blue, making long shadows all around him, obscuring his view of everything. A bottomless pit of nothingness yawned in front of him, where behind him he saw the bed and the window, a breeze making the curtains shiver, even though the window was closed.
Music trickled to his ears, high pitched but off-key.
Practice. Do it again. Practice.
The flute tripped up the scale, stumbling a little.
Do it again. I told you to practice.
Angela?
Gin’s angry voice seeped into the background, demanding, determined. He felt his own rage boiling, their shouting escalating to a breaking point and shattering, the giant, heavy gold band falling on his head, restricting him, keeping him in place. Gin’s voice burst at him.
“Get out.”
The ring fell to the floor, spinning before stopping and clanking on the bottom of the box. A white lily sprang up from the center, followed by a dozen more. From the blooms tiny paper hearts grew and unfolded, flapping like wings, turning into miniature angels. They spiraled around him, floating up above his head, banging into the ceiling and dropping dead at his feet. He shouted, trying to move away from them as they turned into blood, spreading over the floor and up his pants legs, but he was frozen in place, unable to move, unable to run or even crawl away. The blood rolled up as if he was upside down as if thick paint poured and coated over him. It dripped on his chin and into his mouth, tasting like wine going sour. He choked, coughing uncontrollably.
He woke with a gasp, still coughing, his bed wet with sweat.
Chapter 10
AN INVITATION
The whistle and rumble along the tracks made Quinn blink a little, struggling to raise his head. He wondered a moment at the noise, exhausted from the night before. For a moment he was grateful he had not set his alarm. Then he remembered Kate.
He felt around for his phone, turning it on. Notifications flashed at him.
Kate sent the first text just two hours after she left. She had found a hotel next to two others, a small shopping center parking lot between them. An hour after that she gave him the address and her room number. She said she was frightened and couldn’t sleep. She begged him to text her back. Then he noticed she had tried to call three times.
In her last text, she said, “I guess you hit airplane mode by accident again,” followed by a sad emoji. “Please call me.”
He sighed, closing his eyes a moment, letting both the phone and his head drop to the bed.
Tamara had left fourteen messages, all through the evening and some in the morning.
“Hi, baby! Hanging out with Megan today. Spending the night with her again. We’re at a hotel in the city this time.” A yellow winking face stared back at him. “I was wondering if you would like to come over?”
After that, she sent a series of faces showing her growing impatience, followed by a very sad face.
“Well, it looks like we wasted our money,” she said. “Billy couldn’t come see Megan either. He had a gig to go to. So I guess it’s girl’s night out. Just have to find two other guys who want to hang with us.” She sent a photo of herself and presumably Megan both sticking their tongues out at the camera. He smirked. Megan was even prettier than Tamara.
The woman at the restaurant sent three long messages. She thanked him for his kindness and the very large tip before explaining that she is Carol Tanner Lambert, and the chef he saw her arguing with is her husband, Timothy.
“He and I rarely see eye to eye on the business side of things,” she said in her text. “I get so frustrated trying to get him to see what I’m trying to say. My dad taught me how to manage that place long before he died, but Tim is just determined to run it all his way, and frankly right into the ground. I was crying last night because honestly, Mister Tilman, it’s destroying our marriage.”
“All work and no play,” Quinn said, frowning at the little screen.
The last message, sent about a half-hour before he woke up was a single word from Lily.
“Hello.”
He texted her back.
“Hi, Lily. I overslept,” he said. “Forgot to turn on my phone, so of course, no alarm. How are you?”
He waited, staring at the screen for a long moment, but nothing happened. While he waited he read back over everything Carol had said. He texted her back.
“Hi, Carol. Nice to meet you, though I do hate that you’re having such a hard time. Please just call me Quinn. How are things today?”
“Hello, Quinn. Thank you for asking. Everything is alright right now. I’ll have to explain more later. I
shouldn’t be doing this at work.”
“Of course. Have a nice day, Carol.”
“Thank you, Quinn. You too.”
He scrolled through the texts from Tamara, stopping at the photo of her and her friend. He stared at Megan a long moment. She had long naturally blond hair, tanned skin, a tiny shining nose ring, and artfully applied makeup, giving her blue eyes a catlike appearance. She seemed a little older, a little more mature.
“Hi, angel. Your friend is cute. She should join us sometime. Did you find a couple of hunky dudes to hang out with last night?”
“No!” She sent a stuck-out tongue emoji. “Shopping right now.”
“Have fun then. I’m late for work.”
“Awww.”
“Angel, you know I’ve got a lot to do.”
“Come join us, please?”
He laughed.
“I’ll see how my work goes. No promises though, okay?”
“Okay, baby.” She sent a kissy face.
He crawled to the end of the bed and sat there a moment, staring at nothing. His phone vibrated in his hand. He stared down at the screen.
“He found me, Quinn! Please talk to me. Please!”
The phone rang in his hand.
“Kate?”
“Oh, Quinn!” She burst into tears. He heard banging in the background. “He found me. He found me. Help me, Quinn!”
“What do you want me to do, babe?”
He heard Jack’s muffled voice in the background. Kate shouted in his ear.
“No! Go away, Jack! You hurt me!”
He caught the tone of Jack’s voice.
He’s pleading.
“Kate. Listen,” Quinn said. “Calm down. Take a deep breath.”
“He hurt me, Quinn.” She sobbed.
Quinn sighed, rubbing his eyes with his free hand.
If I had known…
“Give me Jack’s number, okay?”
“Okay.” She sniffed and sent it to him.
“Now, let me call him, alright? I’ll try to get things settled. Are you okay? You have food and all?”
“Yes.”
“Alright. Just sit tight, yeah?”
“Okay. Thank you, Quinn.”
“Yeah.”
He hung up and dialed Jack.
“Yeah?”
“Jack, it’s me, Quinn. She called me crying and screaming that you were there, man. She’s terrified.”
Jack sighed.
“I’m trying to help her.”
“The best thing you could do right now is leave her be.”
“I’m worried she’s gonna do something stupid.”
“Look, if she does, I know you tried, alright? You did your best. But hounding her isn’t gonna do her any good right now. You have to back off.”
“Yeah,” he said. “You’re right. But I’m staying here anyway. Gonna be right close by. I won’t let her see me, but I have to make sure she’s okay.”
Quinn listened to Jack’s breathing.
“You do love her,” he said. “I hear it. Why did you leave her?”
“She’s a cancer, man. She twists everything I say. Everything I do. I never know if I’m coming or going. It’s hell, man. I don’t recommend it.” He took a deep breath. “I felt guilty as hell for leaving her.” His voice dropped low. “Thanks.” The call ended.
Quinn stared down at his phone. For a moment he considered blocking Kate’s personal number. He closed his eyes and fell backward on the bed. With a long sigh, he stared up at the ceiling.
An odd shape made a geometric shadow on the ceiling. He turned to the window. Behind the cracked open curtain a rectangular square darkened the view. He stood, taking careful steps toward it. He threw back the curtain. The shadow box sat there, the music ribbon in the background, the window with the flowing curtains, the bed, the flowers, the wedding ring, and the little paper heart angel all exactly where he saw them before, but now, full-size salt and pepper shakers rested on the end of the bed, a pair of porcelain birds in white and gray. He squinted at them, stepping closer, but his phone vibrated in his hand, making him jump, shouting. He closed his eyes and sucked in a cool breath before looking at the screen.
“Hello, Quinn.”
“Lily, hi.”
“I’m okay. How are you?”
“Alright, I guess.”
“I know it must be difficult being away from your daughter.”
“It is.”
“I know I must be taking away from your writing time-”
“To be perfectly honest, Lily. I think I need a break from it today.”
“Well, a day off is always a good idea. Do you writers ever allow yourselves that?”
He chuckled and sat on the end of the bed.
“Not really,” he said.
“Haha. I didn’t think so,” she said. “I was supposed to go get my hair done. One of the ladies at the church keeps trying to get me to go with her, but I just couldn’t face it today. Having an off day.”
“But your hair is perfect.”
“My hair? It is NOT perfect.”
“It is to me.”
She sent a picture of herself. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, her reading glasses resting on her nose. She more no makeup at all, and no jewelry. She still held an elegance that tugged at him.
“It is definitely NOT perfect today. I just really didn’t want to socialize.”
“Here, I think you’re beautiful, but I know you don’t believe me.” He smirked. “I’ll show you worse.”
He took a picture of himself and sent it.
“That is the fascinating ‘Quinn just after waking up’ look. Bedhead and all.”
“Quinn, there’s a shadow box in your window.”
A little shudder rushed through him. He looked over his shoulder and then down at the photo he sent. Sure enough, the little dark rectangle seemed to rest just over his shoulder.
“Did you know it was there?”
“I was looking at it when you texted me. Forgot about it. Yes, you get me THAT nervous.”
“Joking aside Quinn,” she said. “What do you see in it?”
“The bed, curtains blowing, flowers.”
“What kind of flowers?”
“Lilies,” he said. He whispered it as he typed. “White lilies.”
She called him. He startled at the loudness of the ringtone and tapped to answer.
“What do you see?”
He stood and turned around, groaning in exasperation.
“It’s gone again.”
“Again? You’ve seen one before?”
“Twice.”
He listened to her breathing.
“I tried to take a picture of it before,” he said. “But it vanished before I could.”
“It’s not finished. She won’t let you until it’s finished. She was always like that, even at the school. Never allowed a camera around one until it was completed.”
“If I can be honest,” he said. “I think I dreamed about being in one last night. Being trapped in one of her shadow boxes. It was frightening. I really think I need to get out of the house for the day. I might go do some more people watching. Would you like to join me?”
He heard her sigh.
“I would love to, another time,” she said. “I have to stay close to home today. I have a friend in the hospital and I might need to rush there in a while. She’s in surgery today.”
“Something serious?”
“We all hope not,” she said. “But you know how that goes. At least she doesn’t have to worry about a random shadow box appearing. She lives in the city.”
“Ah. I guess I’ll have to work after all then.”
“Well, actually, if you like, perhaps I can make us a nice dinner this evening? Since we’re both homebound anyway, something home-cooked might be nice. Been a while since I had anything that wasn’t microwaved or take-out.”
He chuckled with her.
“Of course,” he said. “That would
be lovely.”
“Then shall we agree on five o’clock?”
“Perfect,” he said. “I’ll see you then.”
“Have a good day, Quinn.”
“You too, Lily.”
He ended the call, a little smile curling up on the side of his mouth.
***
Quinn checked the clock on his phone as he pulled into Lily’s driveway. The yard was freshly mowed, the hedges trimmed, the driveway and sidewalk swept. He carried a mixed bouquet of colorful flowers, checking his hair in the rearview mirror as he slid out of the car. He glanced back at the perfect little street, with all the short paved driveways, listening to the shouting of children playing in the backyard of a house a few doors down. Flashes of the first house he and Gin had shared drifted into his thoughts, Angela as a toddler, his work just starting to catch on, and Gin already working her way ruthlessly up the ladder at her job, climbing over everyone in her way. He shook the thoughts away and turned to the front porch, climbing the few brick stairs.
He rang the bell.
He listened for a moment, hearing a lawn mower crank up in the distance, an eruption of dogs barking following it, before hearing the distinctive clop-clop of a pair of high heels on hardwood floors.
Lily opened the door, smiling faintly at him. He handed her the flowers as he stepped inside.
“Oh! Pretty!” She said. “Thank you, Quinn.”
She closed the door behind him and touched his arm as she passed down the hall.
“Let me just get a vase for these…”
He looked around. A small table sat by the front door, a low bench opposite. A set of stairs climbed straight up to the left, while to the right, an archway led into a simple but elegantly decorated living room. There were very few pieces of furniture in the room, but what was there was of high quality, well made, and of classic design, pieces that would stand the test of time. The colors were conservative but crisp. Blue stood out as blue, green as green, but altogether very simple and clean. Rugs in a darker shade of cream, all the same texture, but in various shapes and styles fit in strategic locations, pulling his eye to each of the seating arrangements.
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