Some pain changes you, alters you permanently and tattoos your soul. “Forever pain,” her grandmother called it, but amazingly you still live through it. And eventually, even forever pain recedes and grows less sharp. You wake up one day to discover it no longer fills every corner of your mind. It’s still there, lurking in the background, but it’s less present and pronounced, a throb deep within you that almost takes focus to feel.
Jimmy stops in front of her, while Hadley and Skipper continue inside. He steps toward her, and she steps back.
He stops bouncing Miles, looks down at the ground, looks back at her. “Grace.”
She shakes her head and wraps her arms across her chest, her heart thumping—love and hurt pounding.
He sighs, looks out at the prairie, then at the toes of his boots. “I’m sorry.”
His words tilt the scales, causing blood to race to her face like mercury dipped in a volcano, and he quickly backtracks. “I know that’s the wrong thing to say, but I’ve been trying to think of what else I can say, and I can’t come up with the words. I screwed up. Really screwed up.”
She glares at him, her nose flaring, so much rage and hurt inside her she’s afraid to open her mouth for fear of what might come out.
Miles flails his arms trying to reach Jimmy’s nose, and Jimmy pulls his face out of range, but when Miles protests, wriggling and writhing, Jimmy bends down to let his son grab hold and honk his beak. “Beep, beep,” he says in a duck voice, his imploring eyes still on Grace.
She looks away, tears threatening. He’s right: she doesn’t want to hear his words. They are not enough—his apologies, his promises, his vows worthless as dust particles—meaningless, unsubstantial, empty. Atomic dust particles—hurtful, damaging, unforgiveable.
He straightens and runs his hand through his hair so hard it looks like he is trying to pull it from its roots. “If there was something I could do to prove it,” he says, “show how sorry I am, I would.” He takes another tentative step toward her, and again she backs away. “Grace, please, look at me.”
She shakes her head. Looking at him won’t help. It will only make things worse: the genuine sorrow in his eyes, the fierce promise in his voice as he tells her he won’t do it again, truly believing it, a conviction that has proved false three times before.
Miles squirms and reaches out for Grace.
She takes him, and as she does, their eyes meet. “Grace, I’m going to figure out a way to fix this, to make it right.”
She walks past him and into the restaurant, wanting to believe, but plumb out of faith.
58
HADLEY
Grace sits down first, looking about as downtrodden as Hadley has ever seen her, and a moment later, Jimmy joins them. It looks like he might have been crying, his eyes red rimmed and glassy, deep parentheses etched around his mouth, an expression not well suited for his normally happy-go-lucky handsome face.
He pretends to be fine, but Hadley feels the effort it takes, and it makes her horribly sad. While they wait for the waitress to come to take their order, Jimmy shows Skipper the different pockets on his fatigues and what each is used for.
“How’d you get the money?” Grace says suddenly, interrupting them and causing everything to stop.
His hand still on his left hip pocket, he says, “Figured it was time to get rid of the Harley.”
Grace winces, a visible flinch. “You sold your Harley?”
He shrugs like it’s no big deal, though obviously it is, a great big balloon of big deal now smack in the middle of the table.
“So, this pocket here,” he says, snapping closed the hip pocket and moving his hand to his left chest pocket, “this is the most important pocket.”
Skipper imitates Jimmy, moving his hand to his left chest pocket, his face very serious.
“In this pocket, you don’t just put any old thing,” Jimmy says.
“What do you put there?” Skipper asks, and Hadley finds herself leaning in, curious as well.
“This here is the pocket closest to your heart,” Jimmy says. “So, that’s what you need to keep there, the things closest to you.”
“What do you have in there?” Skipper says.
Hadley leans in a bit more as Jimmy unsnaps the flap.
The first thing he pulls out is a photo of Grace in a hospital bed holding a newborn Miles, a wide toothless grin spread across her face. He sets a folded sheet of paper beside it, then lastly digs out a tiny rust-colored feather and sets it on top of the paper.
Skipper fingers the feather, stroking it gently.
“Saved my brother’s life,” Jimmy says. “The chicken it belonged to, that is. My brother says it was God. I say it was just a chicken. Either way, it was good luck that day when their truck stopped to let the chicken pass and the chicken got blown up by the bomb on the side of the road instead of them. Each soldier in the truck and the one behind them took a feather, and when I enlisted, my brother gave me his.”
Skipper pulls his hand away, staring hard at the mystical token, chickens dying and men being spared concepts that are foreign to him.
Jimmy tucks the feather along with the note and the photo back in his pocket.
Hadley wants to ask what the note says, but she knows by the expression on Grace’s face that it is personal, the parting words from one lover to another who is going off to war.
It is all more than Hadley can stand, and she wants to scream at Grace to forgive him. He screwed up. Everyone screws up. Give the guy another chance.
The waitress appears.
Jimmy orders a cheeseburger, and Skipper, who never orders cheeseburgers, orders the same. Grace orders spaghetti. Hadley orders a salad, no cheese, dressing on the side.
“Really?” Grace says, clearly annoyed. “Are you kidding me?”
“What?”
“We haven’t had a decent meal in two days. Today or tomorrow we are probably going to be facing a lifetime of prison rations. And you’re dieting.”
Hadley feels a blush in her cheeks. She’s always dieting. Since she turned twelve. She didn’t even think about it when she ordered.
“Who the hell are you trying to impress?”
Hadley blinks, then blinks again, uncertain what she is asking. No one. Everyone. She has no idea. Being thin is like having good dental hygiene. It’s simply expected.
Embarrassed, she shoots back, “Not all of us are blessed with a metabolism that allows us to inhale infinite calories and none of it sticks.”
Grace rolls her eyes, and Hadley has a distinct desire to stick her tongue out at her, but Jimmy’s smirk stops her.
She looks from him to Grace, then back to him, then back to her.
“What?” Grace says.
“Oh my God. That’s it. The reason you can inhale infinite calories and none of it sticks.”
Grace cocks her head.
“You’re pregnant.”
Grace’s eyes bulge, and her head shakes.
“I can’t believe I didn’t realize it,” Hadley says as the past five days cycle through her mind. “It explains it all: the sickness, the bottomless appetite, the constant grouchiness . . . though it’s possible that’s just your personality—”
Grace’s face has drained of color while Jimmy’s has brightened, a shit-eating grin spread wide across it.
“Are you really?” he says, interrupting and looking, misty eyed, at Grace.
Hadley feels a bit misty herself and gives herself an invisible pat on the back for figuring it out as Grace slides from the booth and runs for the door.
59
GRACE
Grace’s breath comes in short bursts that don’t reach her lungs, her mind spinning to calculate the possibility and timing. Her knees go weak, and she grabs hold of the railing as she tells herself it can’t be true.
Though it can.
She swallows and shakes her head against it. One time, when Jimmy was home for his mother’s funeral and she was too tired to put in her diaphragm.
Only one time. She looks up at the sky, thinking God must hold a special place in His sadistic heart just for her. She imagines Him looking down and laughing. Ha, ha, ha, ha. Joke’s on you. Just when you thought things couldn’t get any worse, look what I can do. Aren’t I grand?
Her right hand moves to her belly as she suddenly notices how taut it is. How could she not have noticed? Hadley’s right: it’s obvious—the hunger, the sickness, the exhaustion.
The wind has picked up, icy gusts that prickle her skin. On the ground, leaves swirl, and she stares at the dancing cyclones, angry with herself and with Jimmy and with God. It’s one thing for Him to allow her to bring a child into the world when He had no idea how inept she would be as a parent, but to allow her to bring in a second, knowing how badly she has failed, is wrong and entirely irresponsible.
The door opens behind her, and she looks back to see Hadley limping toward her. “Congratulations?” she says, more question than statement.
Grace turns away and looks back at the swirling leaves.
Hadley steps beside her and bumps her shoulder. “Come on, it’s awesome. Miles will have a brother or sister.”
Grace shakes her head.
“Okay, so maybe the timing’s not ideal—”
Grace’s scathing look stops her.
Hadley sighs, straightens, and says, “Well, anyway, your pasta’s here.” She takes a step, stops, and, unable to resist, adds, “And you’d better come eat. After all, you are eating for two.”
60
HADLEY
Hadley watches as Grace slides into the booth. Jimmy reaches out to wrap his arm around her, then reconsiders. He lowers his eyes sheepishly, but it is an act. Pride and joy radiate like the sun’s glow around him.
“Champ, put that down and eat,” Hadley says to Skipper, who’s playing on his PlayStation.
“But First Base is talking to me,” he says, not looking up.
Hadley’s fork freezes halfway to her mouth.
“Who’s First Base?” Jimmy asks.
Hadley snatches the game from Skipper’s hands, and Grace leaps from the booth to lean in beside her so she can see the screen as well.
champ i need to talk to blue
“How do I do this?” Hadley says, flipping the device back and forth as if looking for a hidden keyboard.
Jimmy takes the device and gives her a demonstration, showing how you get to the touch screen keyboard.
mattie im here where r u, Hadley types.
i got away in a town called mccook
Hadley types, how, her heart beating triple time and her hands shaking.
i took uncle tonys car when we stopped for gas and dad and uncle tony were in the store
u drove
yes
Grace fist pumps the air, and Hadley looks at her, confused, then turns back to the small screen.
where in mccook
parked behind giant silos
stay put im on my way i love u
i love u too
“Where’s McCook?” she says, her eyes still fixed on the screen and Mattie’s words.
Jimmy flags down their waitress and repeats the question. “Have you heard of a town named McCook?”
“Sure. It’s about three and a half hours south of here.”
“Can you pack our food to go?” Jimmy says.
Hadley looks at him, tears of gratitude filling her eyes. Then she looks at Grace, and Grace nods, causing Hadley to lose it, the tears escaping to stream down her cheeks.
“Thank you,” she croaks.
“I love her too,” Grace says, her hand absently going to her stomach, betraying her fear despite her brave words.
“We’re going to get First Base?” Skipper says, his face lit up, feeling like a bona fide hero at having had a part in it and looking like one in his uniform.
“That’s right, Private,” Jimmy says. “Time to roll.”
Skipper practically leaps from the booth.
“The private and I are going for supplies,” Jimmy says with a wink at Grace. “We’ll meet you soldiers in the car.”
“Where are you going?” Grace says, uncertainty in her voice.
Jimmy’s eyes flick to the army-surplus store across the street. “Need to pick up some hardware. Don’t want to greet Hadley’s husband and her brother-in-law without any firepower.”
Grace shakes her head.
“Babe, trust me.”
Grace says nothing, and Jimmy turns to leave.
Hadley’s skin prickles. “Jimmy, wait.” Jimmy turns back. “Grace, what is it you’re not saying?”
It’s weird seeing Grace around Jimmy. As strong as she is, she defers to him in a way Hadley can’t get used to, her southern roots showing like a bad dye job.
“Spit it out,” Hadley says. “I know you have this whole he’s-the-man-and-he’s-my-husband thing going on, but something’s on your mind, and since you’re a heck of a lot smarter than your husband—” She stops to look at Jimmy. “No offense, Jimmy, but she is.” Jimmy nods. “You need to stop acting like the good wife and tell us what it is.”
Grace kind of scoff chuckles, like Hadley got her with a good one, but her cheeks flush, either embarrassed at being called out or angry. Hadley can’t be sure and frankly doesn’t care. Mattie is three and a half hours away, and this is no time for worrying about bruised egos.
“It doesn’t feel right,” Grace says, her mouth setting in a thin line.
“What doesn’t feel right?”
“How do we even know it’s Mattie who’s talking to us?”
“Good point,” Jimmy says. He holds out his hand for the PlayStation. “What’s something only Mattie would know?”
Hadley looks at Skipper, and the answer comes to her. “What did Skipper save from under Mattie’s bed?”
“A spider,” Skipper contributes excitedly.
“Good job,” Jimmy says as his thumbs fly over the screen. “Bad luck to kill spiders.”
Spider pops up almost instantly on the screen.
Hadley lets out a whoop. “It’s her. It’s her.”
Grace still looks uncertain.
“What?” Hadley says, irritated and impatient. “It’s her. She just proved it.”
“I still don’t trust it.”
Hadley wonders if she doesn’t trust it because she’s scared and wants to back out, the balance shifted with the new life inside her.
“Here’s the thing,” Grace says slowly, as if still working out the thoughts as she says them. “McCook is probably the size of a postage stamp, right?”
All of them nod, even Skipper. Every town they’ve driven through since leaving Denver hasn’t been larger than a few blocks wide.
“And Mattie’s been trying to reach us for hours, sitting in a black muscle car with out-of-state plates behind some silos.”
“Yeah, so?”
Jimmy’s the one who answers. “So why hasn’t anyone asked her what she’s doing there?”
“Exactly,” Grace says. “I grew up in a small town. And there’s no way the foreman of the silos or a security guard or a nosy neighbor wouldn’t have called the local sheriff to tell good old Bob, Joe, or Hank that some tricked-out mafia car is hanging around.”
“So what are you saying?”
“I’m saying I don’t trust it. They know she’s there.”
“Who?”
“The cops? The feds? I don’t know.”
“But then why haven’t they picked her up?”
“That’s the question.”
“Because they’re waiting,” Jimmy says.
“For what?”
“For us.”
61
GRACE
It was an excruciating drive, the tension ratcheting up with each mile until, by the time they reached the exit for McCook, Grace felt like her head was going to explode. As the sun went down, the clouds closed ranks, and now a steel wool sky conceals the stars and the threat of rain looms. Jimmy drives carefully down the main st
reet as Grace scans the town, suspecting every car and van of holding agents lying in wait.
Jimmy holds her hand. He took it when they pulled off the highway, and she was so distracted she didn’t think about it, and now it is too late to pull it away, his long fingers curled around hers, both reassuring and disturbing at once. Things always seem so promising when Jimmy is around, yet they never seem to work out.
Everyone is silent, even Miles, as they creep along at the posted twenty-five-mile-per-hour speed limit.
The town is small and typical—fast-food restaurants, a few mom-and-pop stores, a gas station, and a Walmart—the stores mostly buttoned up for the night, though it’s just past nine.
“Turn here,” Grace says, directing Jimmy to pull into a motel called the Chief Inn. Her eyes slide to the motel across the street, then travel left and right, surveying again for trouble. “Park in the back.”
Jimmy does as she says, and Hadley steps from the car to check them in with Blaire Butz’s license. Grace watches as she works to control her limp, though the effort it takes is obvious.
A few minutes later, she returns, two keys in her hand, and Grace feels Jimmy’s concern over their dwindling funds. He would have preferred they frugally shared one room, though he says nothing.
He thinks the money from his Harley is all they have to start their new life. Grace knows it’s not. Mattie’s game console was in the diaper bag with the cash in the trunk of Blaire Butz’s car, which means Mattie has the cash. But the last thing she wants is for Jimmy to know that, so she keeps it to herself.
Hadley hands Jimmy a key, then takes the car seat with Miles from his hands. “You two need some time alone,” she says with a wink, then, not waiting for an answer, marches away.
Grace glares at her meddling, irritating back. Ever since they left the restaurant, she could practically hear Hadley’s thoughts: He’s a good man, Grace. Look what he’s doing for Mattie. For me. Not to mention good looking. Icing on the cake, but still, very nice icing, you have to admit. And he loves you. So much. And Miles. Look how he adores his son. Christ, Grace, what do you want? He screwed up, but he’s trying so hard to make it up. We all screw up. You need to forgive him. Damn it, get over yourself, and just forgive him already. The guy deserves a chance.
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