Secondhand Sinners

by Genevieve Lynne

  Emily

  Emily fastened her seatbelt and stared out the window of her car while she waited for Jack to belt himself in. The two-hour drive from Dallas to Bokchito had taken them three hours because Jack had a meltdown. She needed to get him settled somewhere before he had another one.

  Why wouldn’t Levi talk? What had happened with their father? She didn’t even know he was in town. He usually called her to let her know when he was working on a new piece. Now he was in jail and her father was in a coma. Nothing made sense.

  And why was Miller being so helpful? God, he looked good—better than she’d expected. She didn’t trust him. Still, there was no harm in exchanging numbers and asking about a hotel. Was there? Yes. It made her look like she didn’t know what she was doing. She didn’t know what she was doing. She didn’t want anyone else to know that.

  She checked that Jack was buckled in and turned the key in the ignition.

  Jack flapped his arms. “Yay! We’re going home.”

  She sighed. How was she going to explain the situation? “No, Jack. We’re not going home. We can’t go home yet.”

  In the rear view mirror, Emily saw a line form between Jack’s eyebrows. “Why not?”

  “We just can’t. Our home doesn’t work right now.” She was so tired. Her head was pounding. She desperately needed him to accept what she had just told him.

  “You mean there’s no electricity?”

  “Something like that.”

  Jack’s eyes were darting back and forth. Either he wasn’t getting it, or he wasn’t accepting it. She needed to think of something else to say to him that didn’t involve telling him they had to stay to get his beloved Levi out of jail.

  She twisted around and touched his knee. “It’s contaminated.”

  “Like Venus?”

  “Yes. Like Venus.”

  “Venus is 108 kilometers from the sun.”

  “Yep,” she said, putting the car in drive.

  “Where are we going?”

  She pulled out of the police station’s parking lot. “Uncle Levi’s.”

  ***

  Jack lay tucked into the covers of Levi’s bed, his eyelids getting heavy. While her son fell asleep, Emily was glad she’d decided to stay at the old shed Levi had converted into a small apartment, even if she did have to call Miller for a key. Being in her brother’s space comforted her. She brushed her son's hair out of his face and kissed his cheek.

  She reached for her phone and dialed her brother’s number. After his greeting she said, “Hey, it’s me. It’s been a really bad day, and I wanted to hear your voice. I wish you’d let me see you so we can talk this through and get you out of that awful jail. I think I know why you did what you did. You were defending yourself, weren’t you? I know you’re not going to hear this message anytime soon. I wanted to tell you I love you. No matter what.”

  She disconnected and climbed out of bed, taking the phone with her to the hallway. She sat, back to the wall, knees to her chest, and dialed the same number with the southern Oklahoma area code she had dialed every Saturday night for the last two years.

  “Sunny Horizons,” a familiar woman’s voice answered.

  “Hi,” Emily said. “I’m calling to check on Hoyt Thornton.”

  “You again, huh?”

  “Yep,” she answered, trying to fake a lightness she didn’t feel. “Like clockwork.”

  “He’s the same as always.”

  “What about his cold? Did that get better?”

  “It weren’t no cold, ma’am, just a little cough. But yeah, that’s better.”

  “That’s good. Does he need anything?”

  “Could use a new fan and some lighter pajamas, now that the warmer weather is here.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Well…” The lady Emily had never met yet talked to every week took a different tone, and Emily knew what was coming next. This was their unspoken arrangement. “He’s runnin’ low on those mint chocolates.”

  “So a fan, pajamas, and chocolates?”

  “Mint chocolates.”

  Emily smiled. “Okay.” Whoever this woman was, she was the closest thing Emily had to a long-term relationship. “Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?”

  “You can ask. Don’t mean I’ll answer.”

  “What’s your name?”

  The lady chuckled. “My name’s Jasmine. What’s yours?”

  “Oh. Um…” Emily banged her head softly against the wall. She was so stupid. Why’d she have to ask that?

  “Miss? It ain’t none’a my business, but why do ya keep on checkin’ on Mr. Thornton and sendin’ him all kinds of niceties if ya don’t even want t’ tell your name?”

  “I want him to be comfortable. I…I knew his son.”

  “Daniel?”

  “Yes.”

  “That poor boy.”

  “Yes,” Emily said again, knowing any further explanation might give her identity away. If this Jasmine lady knew enough about Daniel to say, ‘that poor boy,’ she probably knew who she was. Her family could not know she’d been checking on Hoyt all these years when her own grandmother was in the same nursing home in worse shape that he was.

  “Then why in the Sam Hill is you callin’ here to check on Old Man Thornton? Ev’ry one knows he’s the reason that poor boy killed hisself.”

  He’s all I have left of my friend.

  “I’ll get that stuff in the mail next week.” Emily ended the call and rested her head on her knees, hating the fact that she still had to tiptoe around her family. They already had her pound of flesh; what more could they take from her? It was the answer to that question that kept her from telling her name to Jasmine. They wanted her blood too.

  ***

  “You can’t tell Levi.”

  Daniel took Emily’s hand between his. “Why not?”

  “Because he’ll try to stop them. There’s no telling what they’ll do to him if he gets in the middle of this.”

  “Does it hurt?”

  She hadn’t looked him in the eyes since she told him what her parents and grandmother did to her the night before. With his hand gently squeezing hers, she was able to make eye contact.

  “Yeah. It hurts. It’s better than during and right after, though.”

  He furrowed his brows. “I don’t get it. We haven’t been doing anything.”

  “They don’t care. They hate me. I’m going to run away. Far, far away.”

  “I would really miss you.”

  “I won’t run away. I couldn’t leave you. I could never leave Levi alone with them.” Emily smiled the best smile she could muster. “I’ll be okay.”

  Daniel let go of her hands and put his arm around her shoulders. “If they try that again, you run. Run as hard and as far as you can. Don’t look back.”

  “I couldn’t—”

  “Yes you can.”

  “I’ll get lost.”

  “Then I’ll come find you.”

  Emily woke up just before seven A.M. She hadn’t dreamt about that September morning of her junior year in a long time. She and Daniel had skipped first period to sit behind the field house because he could tell something was wrong and insisted she tell him. So she told him. It was the first time her mom and grandmother called Sister Serenity, the first of three. When they tried to do it for the fourth time, she ran like Daniel told her to. The dream always made her sad because she did get lost, and there was no one to come find her.

  She crawled out of bed, careful not to wake Jack. During her shower, her thoughts kept veering to Miller. It really bothered her that he was being so helpful. She had expected him to hate her. If he did, he might be trying to lay the groundwork for some kind of revenge. What would it be? Humiliation? Shame? Guilt?

  After her shower, she took her anti-depressant and birth control pill, and since she forgot her flat iron, she put a little product in her hair and hoped for the best. Anything would have to be better than the scary image that looked back a
t her through the mirror last night. The crooked ponytail and splotchy face made her look pathetic. Ah, that must have been it. Miller pitied her. The thought sickened her. She’d prefer he yell at her than pity her.

  Once she was dressed, she pulled a bag of coffee out of the cabinet and got it started in Levi’s coffee maker. Then she checked the refrigerator for milk. All he had was soy.

  What the hell, Levi?

  A tapping at the door startled her.

  She stood very still and waited for whoever was behind the door to go away.

  “It’s me, Emily,” Miller said.

  She opened the door. Miller was in jeans, a black t-shirt, and work boots. She noticed at the police station that his hair was lighter than she remembered—sun-kissed blond instead of light brown. It looked darker against the backdrop of the dark sky, more like she remembered. He was holding two brown bags stuffed with groceries.

  “Miller? It’s early. Is everything okay?”

  “Your hair got wavy.”

  She looked down and brushed a wavy lock behind her ear. “It did that when I was pregnant, you know, with Jack. It’s still a little wet. I usually straighten it.” Why was she going on about her hair? “What are you doing here?”

  “I figured Levi wouldn’t have the kind of food your little boy would eat, so I ran out to the store for you.”

  She stared at him. Although she felt like crying, she had already decided she wasn’t going to let him see her cry again. That one tear in the police station was enough.

  “I figured I’d leave it on the porch and call you in an hour or so. The light was on so I thought I’d see if you were okay.”

  “Oh.”

  “Can I come in?”

  “Oh. Yeah. Sorry.”

  She moved aside, and he walked past her and into the kitchen.

  “The way I see it,” he said as he unloaded the groceries into Levi’s refrigerator, “if you have kids in the house, you have to have Cheerios and milk. I didn’t know about your guy so I got some bacon and eggs too. Is that fresh coffee? Want me to pour some?”

  Miller was standing there, being so helpful, offering to make her coffee. Why? “What are you doing?”

  He looked around the room in one quick sweep and then back at her. “I told you. Helping.”

  “I was going to go out this morning.”

  “I only picked up enough to get you started. I’m sure you have a long day ahead.”

  “Yeah. I guess.”

  He took two mugs out of the second cabinet he looked in and filled them with the fresh coffee. With his back to her, he asked, “You gonna go see your dad?”

  The thought of facing her mom and visiting her dad sickened her. Emily stared at the floor. “I’m not sure. I may stay here today, except for getting groceries. Jack needs to get some rest and settle in somewhere.”

  He held up a mug. “You want anything in yours?”

  “A little sugar…I think there’s some up there…a lot of milk. Thanks.”

  Miller made her coffee and took his black. He handed her a mug and leaned back against the kitchen counter.

  Still not satisfied with any of his answers, she asked again, “Why are you here, Miller?”

  “I told you—”

  “No. I appreciate what you’re doing here. I mean why are you here? I thought you’d hate me.”

  “I don’t hate you. I was hoping to catch up. I’d like to know how you’ve been.”

  Emily looked down the short hall to the only bedroom in Levi’s little apartment. The lump in the middle of the bed was still asleep. “Okay. If Jack wakes up, you’ll have to go.”

  They sat side by side on the sofa. Miller stretched his arm over the back behind her. She sat up straight and stared out the kitchen window at the awakening sky, while both their coffee mugs sat full and untouched on the distressed coffee table.

  “So?” he asked.

  “What?”

  “You married?”

  “Yes,” she lied.

  “You have the one kid?”

  “Yes.” Emily had feared this very conversation for the last fourteen years, and it was worse than she imagined. “And you have a daughter?”

  “Yep. She’s pretty amazing.”

  Emily, still staring out the window, asked, “How is Sara?”

  “She gave up on my sorry ass and left three years ago.”

  “I’m really sorry.” Miller’s presence was punishing. She guessed he knew that. The slow torture of small talk was more than she could handle.

  “Hey, what’s this?” Miller leaned over and picked up the yearbook that was open to a page with prom pictures.

  “Oh. It’s nothing.” She reached for the book, but it was too late. He laid the book in his lap and looked at the page she had been staring at late into the night. “I couldn’t sleep last night so I got that out.”

  “How’d you get our senior yearbook?”

  “It’s Levi’s. He was a sophomore when we were…” She couldn’t finish the sentence. She’d barely started her senior year before she ran away.

  Miller studied the page. “God that was a terrible night.”

  “Really? Everyone looks so beautiful and happy, like they know they have the rest of their lives ahead of them.” She didn’t mean to sound so sad when she said that. She’d spent hours looking at the pictures of her former classmates and everything she’d missed because she ran away. Homecoming, the Christmas dance, prom, graduation.

  Miller looked at her, and his face softened. “You didn’t finish high school?”

  She shook her head. “I got a GED. There is no prom or graduation for correspondence school.”

  “Well…” He tapped the open page of the yearbook. “This was probably the stupidest prom in the history of proms. They actually had some kind of Under the Sea theme. All these dressed up girls with all the make up? They didn’t look so good after ten minutes of dancing in that hot, stuffy gym.”

  It was obvious he was trying to make her feel better.

  “In fact, it’s a good thing you weren’t there. Someone spiked the punchbowl with some kind of toxic moonshine, and every single girl there went bald within a week.”

  Emily couldn’t help but laugh at that a little. Miller was always so good at making her feel better.

  “And if you look close enough,” he flipped to the section with all the graduation pictures, “you’ll notice that all these girls are wearing wigs.”

  “No they’re not.”

  “None of them ever got their hair back. Don’t tell anyone, okay?”

  “What? No. That’s—”

  “And all their kids were born bald.”

  That did it. She busted out into a full-blown laugh. It wasn’t loud, and though it didn’t last long, it was the best laugh she’d had in months. When she was finished, she touched Miller’s hand. “Thank you.”

  Miller stared at her hand on his, which made her acutely aware that she couldn’t reach out and touch him like that anymore. She couldn’t ask him to be her safe place anymore. She pulled her hand back and blurted out, “I had to leave.”

  He sat forward with his elbows on his knees and clenched his hands together. “I thought we were going take some time to figure it all out. You know I would have taken you anywhere you wanted to go.”

  “You had college, a baseball scholarship, and a career ahead of you. A shot at a real future. I would’ve ruined your life, and I would have been a disastrous mother, like mine was to me and hers was to her. I had to do it, and I had to leave. Alone.”

  “If you would have come to me, we could have figured something out.”

  She looked at him, really looked at him for the first time since they were seventeen. She could see it—the hurt and confusion she’d left behind. She expected to see that. The weariness, though, was a surprise. It saddened her.

  “I didn’t have a choice, Miller. They were going to…”

  “What?”

  She could not get into this now.
This was not why she came back to town. “Nothing.”

  “Did something happen? Is that why you flew out of town the way you did?”

  Even now, Emily couldn’t say it, couldn’t face it, couldn’t even understand it herself. All she knew was that people who were supposed to protect her had hurt her, cursed her. Normal relationships weren’t possible, not with her mom or dad, not with her ex-husband, not even with her son. So she had to run, break off all contact, and lie to Miller about having an abortion because he deserved a shot at a good life. So did her baby.

  “I just left, okay? I left so I wouldn’t end up like Ma'am or my mom. Apparently I didn’t go far enough because I’m exactly like them. It’s in my blood, and if I had kept the baby I would have ruined her like they ruined me. So now you can live out your life thankful that you didn’t get stuck with me or my screwed-up family.”

  Miller stood, clenched one fist, and motioned in the direction of the big house with the other. “You’re forgetting that I’m the one who’s been stuck with your screwed-up family.”

  “That was your choice.”

  “Yeah. Some choice.” Miller walked to the door, put his hand on the knob, and stopped. “Her?”

  “What?”

  He looked back at Emily. “You said, you would’ve ruined ‘her.’”

  Emily closed her eyes and took a breath. “Her. Him. Whatever. I always thought of the baby as a her. Probably because I’m a woman. Whenever you think about the pregnancy, you probably think of a boy because you’re a man.”

  “No. I think of a girl. A beautiful little girl who looks exactly like Daniel.” He left, slamming the door on his way out.

  ***

  Miller

  Miller hurried to his truck. That conversation hadn’t gone like he’d hoped it would. Your hair got wavy? Where had did that come from? He’d practiced what he’d say and how he’d say it on the way over. Emily, there’s something you should know…Or Hey, Emily, nice ass. Speaking of asses, you’ll never guess what lie I’ve been telling everyone for the last fourteen years…Or his favorite scenario, What’s that? Have sex with you? Please, Emily, stop begging. You’re only embarrassing yourself.