When David Died: A True Story

by John Locke

  I laugh. “We wouldn’t see much of each other if I’m in prison.”

  “You wouldn’t go to prison. It’d be different if you were a 23-year-old guy, but you’re not. We’re girls. It’s totally different.”

  “You might be right, but I’d hate to bet my future on it. Can we just lie about that one part?”

  “On one condition.”

  “What’s that?”

  “We get to keep having sex.”

  “Fine with me, but after today your mom will be watching you like a hawk. Not to mention she’s gonna keep us separated as long as you’re under her roof.”

  She frowns. “I hadn’t thought about that.”

  “Well, it’s something we ought to consider.”

  She thinks a moment, then says, “All right.”

  “All right what?”

  “I still want her to know. Today. And Michael, too.”

  “You’re sure?”

  She nods. “I want them to hear you say you’re leaving Michael, and that you love me.”

  “And what will you say?”

  “I’ll tell them I love you and when I’m sixteen I’m going to move in with you…if you’d like that.”

  “I’d love it, except I’m pretty sure you have to be eighteen to live with me against your Mom’s wishes.”

  “Let’s look into it. But either way, I want them to know today.”

  “Fine. You want to be there when I tell them?”

  “Of course.”

  “Are you gonna back me up about the sex part?”

  She pauses. “I’m not sure yet.”

  “When will you know?”

  “Is it a condition for telling them?”

  “No.”

  “Then it doesn’t matter, does it?”

  “I guess not.”

  She cocks her head. “You’re really gonna tell them? You swear to God?”

  “Yes.”

  She stares at me. “You’re bluffing your ass off!”

  “You’ll see I’m not.”

  “I guess we’ll both see, soon enough.”

  A voice says, “It’s right decision.”

  We look up and see the maid standing ten feet away. How long she’s been there is anyone’s guess, but certainly long enough to offer her unsolicited opinion. “Always best to tell truth,” she says. Then adds, “Nice tits, both. Should I make bed now or come back?”

  12.

  11:45 a.m.

  WE GET DRESSED, leave the room, walk around the lobby and mezzanine while talking about our feelings. Then Jess says, “I’ve been acting inappropriately since Daddy died.”

  “Not true. I saw you shortly after it happened. You were grief-stricken.”

  “I know, but since then.”

  “Since then you’ve been trying to block it out, and that gave you the strength to tell me how you feel about me. It provided a welcome distraction for your stress.”

  “Thanks, Doctor Hill. How much do I owe you for the consultation?”

  “One kiss.”

  She says, “You’re nice to phrase it that way, but we both know everything you just said is total bullshit. I’ve been selfish, thinking only of myself and what I want. I had a reason for it, but sometimes it feels like I’m spitting on Daddy’s memory.”

  “I’m sure your dad wouldn’t want you to dwell on his death. He’d want you to be happy.”

  “I hope so. But like I said, I had a reason for doing this now. Can I tell you why?”

  “Please do.”

  “When you asked if I knew the detectives were talking about you and Daddy having an affair I acted surprised, but they said that to me and Mom yesterday before you got to the house. Of course I stuck up for you, but I didn’t like what they said about you and Daddy, and I didn’t like what Mom and Michael have been saying about you, either.”

  “They talk about me?”

  “All the time. And not in a good way.”

  “I thought your mom loved me.”

  “She did, till you went back to Michael the last time. Since then he’s had a lot to say, and she’s been listening. And when the detectives started asking all those questions I could tell Mom was never going to invite you back.”

  “That’s why you wanted to meet last night?”

  “I figured it was the only chance I’d ever have to tell you how I feel.”

  “Wow. That was pretty damn brave.”

  “I know, right? I mean, I didn’t think you’d laugh at me, because we’ve always been so close. And in the back of my mind I had the smallest hope you might be flattered, or possibly interested, because sometimes when we talked I had the feeling you were looking at me with more than friendship eyes.”

  “I’m sure I was!”

  She smiles. “I know that now. But I kept telling myself I was imagining that part. But when you told me you were going to leave Michael, I put it all out there. I’ve wanted you, like, forever, and I couldn’t bear the thought of never seeing you again.”

  “You’re definitely going to see me again.”

  We walk silently a few minutes till she says, “You know what really surprises me? You haven’t said a word about backing out of telling them we’re a couple. That’s got to be really hard for you to do.”

  “I’m glad you understand that.”

  “Want to do a practice run?”

  “You mean right now?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Fine. How’s this: Alison, I know you just lost your husband yesterday, and Michael, you and Jessie lost your dad. And even though David’s not yet in the ground, I think today should be all about me, not you, so here’s the scoop: I’ve fallen in love with Jessie, and she loves me. By the way, Michael, I’m not going to marry you. Alison? I want you to know Jess and I haven’t had sex yet—wink, wink! —but we fully intend to explore the sexual component of our relationship as soon as she turns sixteen. Why am I telling you this today? Well, Jess asked me to, in order to prove my love. How’s that?”

  She laughs. “Shitty. Let’s lose the part about today being all about you, and the ‘here’s the scoop’ part. And the part about how it was my idea to tell them. I want it to come from you.”

  “You know I was being sarcastic, right?”

  “Of course. But still. Want to try again?”

  “Not really.”

  “Fine.”

  “Fine.”

  We walk in moody silence for about five minutes before her phone rings. It’s Alison, saying they’re on their way back to the hotel. Jessie startles me by saying: “Mom? When you guys get here, can you meet us in the lobby? Nicki has something important to tell you.”

  Those few words uttered so casually into her phone tell me Jess actually expects me to tell her mom and brother we’re having an affair! Until this very moment I thought she was just testing me, waiting to see if I’d back down. I never believed she really meant it. Not today, at least, and not anytime soon. Now that I know she’s serious, I can’t fathom her reasons. It’s worse than coldhearted, it’s downright cruel. And now I’m thinking: what if she’s punishing them, somehow? What if she decides at the last moment not to back me up on the sexual part? What if she tells them everything we’ve done since last night? What if they call the police?

  Jess hangs up, checks the time, flashes a big grin. “All this time you thought I was kidding, but I wasn’t.”

  I think about denying it, acting cool, like it’s no big deal, but she knows better.

  “It’s best this way,” she says.

  13.

  12:00 Noon

  WE’RE IN THE lobby, occupying the furniture—a couch and two chairs—that probably gets the least use due to its distance from the front desk and the glare from the giant window directly behind it. Speaking of glares, Michael’s making no secret how he feels about me at the moment: he’s throwing a full-scale pout. But after I tell him I’m leaving him for Jess I guarantee he’ll do a 180 and beg me to reconsider. Not because I’m such an amazin
g catch, but because that’s what he does. Michael’s cycle of abuse hits five progressions: first, he gets furious. Second, he treats me like shit. Third, I threaten to leave. Fourth, he begs me to stay. Fifth, I agree, and he’s wonderful for a few days or weeks…then he gets furious.

  “Is this about the insurance?” Michael says, practically spitting the words at me.

  “No.”

  “Really?” He gives Jess a dirty look. “Because I know my big-mouth sister told you about the meeting with Blass.”

  “Who’s Blass?”

  “The insurance guy.”

  Jess says, “This has nothing to do with your little insurance scam. However—”

  Alison fixes a cold, steady look on her adopted daughter.

  “—Nicki has some information that can make it work. Nicki? Tell them.”

  Michael and Alison look at me, but I have no idea what she’s talking about, so I look at Jessie and say, “Perhaps you should tell them.”

  “Okay, but they probably won’t listen, since they think I’m just a stupid kid, and certainly unworthy of helping the family collect on a double indemnity claim.”

  Alison says, “I’m sorry I’ve given you that impression, Jessie. I only wanted to protect you and save you the embarrassment. The whole situation is beyond disgusting, and I’m sure you had no idea Daddy’s been doing this all along.”

  Jess says, “Can you prove he was?”

  Michael says, “Mom’s known about it for months. She already told Mr. Blass.”

  “Except that she’s the wife, and has a lot to gain by lying, correct? Where’s her proof?”

  “Like Mr. Blass says, the proof is in the slip knot. It wasn’t a hangman’s noose, like the kind people use to kill themselves. Plus, Dad had a cloth around his neck. According to Mr. Blass, that’s the strongest evidence of accidental death.”

  “Sounds like Mr. Blass is working for us instead of the insurance company.”

  “He’s just pointing out the facts. He says that people who…do what Dad did…use a cloth to prevent leaving rope burns around their necks. If Dad was going to kill himself, why would he worry about rope burns?”

  “That’s all you’ve got?”

  Michael curls his angry lips into a smile. “Mom saw him doing it, Jess. And fortunately for us, she came crying to me about it months ago.”

  Jess frowns. “No one’s gonna believe it. No mother would tell her son that her husband’s been whacking off with a noose around his neck.”

  Alison says, “Shut up, Jessie! I’m sick of your filthy mouth. This is your father we’re talking about. Do you understand he’s dead? Have some respect.”

  Jess bristles, but keeps quiet.

  Alison takes a moment to calm down, then says, “What were you saying about Nicki having some information?”

  “I thought you wanted me to shut up.”

  Alison sighs.

  Jess says, “Since you and Michael are beneficiaries, the insurance company will doubt anything you say to them. But Nicki’s not in the will, so whatever she says will carry a lot of weight.”

  Like a snake shedding its skin, Michael’s face slowly releases its anger. He’s staring at me with great interest as Jess says, “You remember last March when Nicki and Michael spent the night and Nicki agreed to help me with my music project? I had to make a harp, and asked Nicki to get the tool box from Daddy’s closet.” Jess looks at me and says, “Tell them what you found.”

  I have no idea what she wants me to say, but as we catch each other’s eyes I find myself exhilarated by the trust she’s placing in me to be creative, and more than that, I feel like a part of something I’ve never experienced before. Like what I assume happens when girls with normal childhoods have slumber parties and tell stories where one girl starts it off and each girl adds to it and tries to keep the story going. Knowing full well I should say nothing, I surprise myself and everyone around me by announcing: “David was sitting on the floor, with a rope around his neck.”

  Alison’s eyes grow huge. “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.”

  “When was this?”

  “Last March.”

  “Did David see you?”

  I nod.

  “What did he say?”

  “He laughed and said, ‘Don’t be alarmed, I’m just making a Halloween prop.’”

  “In March?”

  I nod.

  “And you never mentioned it?”

  “She did,” Jessie says. “She told me.”

  “When?”

  “That night. And I asked Daddy about it.”

  Michael’s jaw drops. “What did he say?”

  “Same thing. He was planning to go all out for Halloween this year, and was starting early.”

  Alison frowns. “That’s ridiculous.”

  Jessie says, “Tell them about the panties.”

  I look at her with genuine shock. “I-I’d rather not,” I say.

  “Please, Nicki,” Alison says. “Whatever it is, it’s okay.”

  So I say: “He had a pair of women’s panties on the floor by the rope.”

  “Mine?”

  “Nicki’s,” Jessie says.

  “What the fuck?” Michael says. “My dad stole your panties and you didn’t bother to tell me?”

  “How could she?” Jess says. “You would have gone crazy.”

  “Damn right I would’ve.”

  Alison says, “Calm down, Michael. That’s quite a story, Nicki, but I can’t help wondering why you never seemed the least bit uncomfortable around David all these months. How’s that possible?”

  Good point. How is that possible? I think a moment, then say: “I don’t expect you to understand this, but I grew up learning never to speak about the things that bothered me. If something happened to me or someone else, I put it out of my mind and pretended it never happened. It was safer that way.”

  “I get that,” Alison says. “But you’ve been out of that situation for years. This noose and panty thing supposedly happened last March? I don’t buy it. You wouldn’t be able to look him in the eyes after catching him doing God knows what with your panties.”

  “Excuse me!” Jessie says.

  When we look at her she says, “Are you forgetting about me? Nicki told me about the panties back in March. Have you noticed me acting weird around you and Daddy? No? Well that’s because Nicki and I had a long talk and agreed not to ever speak of it again. Because she was happy and you and Daddy were happy, and we just decided to pretend it never happened.”

  Michael says, “Makes sense.”

  Alison says, “I’m impressed. Tell me about them.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “The panties my husband stole from you. Could you describe them please?”

  Jessie says, “Small, thong, black lace, with a white ribbon running through the waistband.”

  Without taking her eyes off my face, Alison says, “How did you get them back?”

  Jessie says, “She didn’t. When Daddy and Michael went to play golf the next morning, I went through his things and found them. And kept them.”

  “Why?”

  “I wanted him to know that I knew.”

  “Knew what?”

  “That he had the hots for Nicki.”

  “That’s disgusting!”

  “It’s true though. Surely you knew. Every time Nicki came to visit, Daddy lit up like a Roman candle. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.”

  Alison says nothing.

  Jess says, “I was gonna give them back to Nicki next time she visited, but she only came to the house once after that, and that was the day we tried to talk her into going back to Michael. I forgot to give them back. But they’re under my mattress, if you care to see them.”

  Michael says, “Nicki? What was it you wanted to tell us? Jess said it was important.”

  14.

  I STOP NIBBLING my bottom lip long enough to say: “Michael, I’m sorry to do this today, but after what happened
last night, I’m no longer comfortable being around you. I can’t marry you. I’m breaking off the engagement.”

  “You bitch!”

  Alison says, “Real classy, Nicki. Thanks for putting the cap on our special day.”

  “I don’t appreciate your sarcasm, Alison. Your son raped me last night.”

  “Shut up!” Michael shouts, “or I’ll fucking kill you!”

  “How sweet of you to say, Michael. But your days of intimidating me are over. I’m sorry for the timing of that announcement, and for what else I’ve got to say.”

  Jess suddenly comes to life: “I’ll tell them: Nicki and I are driving to Louisville this afternoon to move her things from Michael’s apartment.”

  “Bullshit!” Michael says. “You’re not taking anything without my approval.”

  “Really Michael?” Jess says. “Like I’d let her take your shit? Like she’d want it in the first place? You should be thankful she’s willing to tell the insurance guy about the rope around Daddy’s neck instead of filing rape charges.”

  “I never raped you,” he says to me. “Not even close.”

  Jess says, “Mom, are you okay with me and Nicki going to Louisville? We’ll spend the night, come back tomorrow, and she can meet Mr. Blass and tell him about the rope.”

  As if I’m not even here, Alison says: “I’m sure Nicki can move her things out of Michael’s apartment without your help. Also, I see no reason for her returning to Lexington. I’m sure our family has had quite enough of Nicki Hill for one lifetime.”

  As I study Alison’s cold, angry face it’s hard to imagine she was ever warm and loving to her husband. But she had to be, back in the day, or she never would have gotten that magnificent diamond on her finger. I try to picture her caught in the throes of passion screaming: Oh God! Oh…Oh YES! Oh! Fuck me! Fuck me! FUCK me! Oh…I’m…I’m cumming! Oh God! Oh, Oh my GOD!

  “I don’t have a ride,” I say.

  “Neither does Jessie,” Alison says, “which is another good reason she should stay here.”

  I shrug. “I guess I can call a cab. What about Mr. Blass? I’m still happy to tell what I know. Maybe it’ll help you with your case.”

  “I suppose if Mr. Blass wants to talk to you badly enough he’ll either pick up the phone or drive to Louisville.”