by David Bell
Tricia finished with her phone and laid it aside on the couch. “Hi,” she said, looking up.
She didn’t look to Jason like someone who would be friends with Sierra. She wore thick eyeliner and torn jeans, and a leather, stud-encrusted bracelet circled her left wrist. She was thin and pale and sat with her feet propped up on the coffee table. She looked like the resident of the house, and Sierra comported herself more like a guest.
“Are you watching a movie?” Jason asked. He didn’t know what else to say.
“TV,” Tricia said. “Thanks for letting me hang out here.”
“You’re welcome,” Jason said, even though he played no role in having the girl in his house. If it were up to him, he felt certain he would have closed the door in Tricia’s face. Sierra had enough to deal with. She didn’t need her wild friend coming around. “I’m going to talk to Nora,” he said.
“Hey,” Tricia said. “I’m sorry about your friend.”
“Yeah, Uncle Jason, we heard the news. I’m sorry. That’s the guy Mom was talking about, right?”
“Right.”
He turned and went up the steps. Nora lay in bed, reading. She wore her hair pulled back and slipped her glasses off the bridge of her nose when Jason walked into the room. She sat up, sweeping her legs off the bed.
“There you are,” she said.
“What’s going on down there?” Jason asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Who’s that girl? I’m assuming that’s the Tricia. Car-stealing, pot-smoking Tricia.”
“Relax,” Nora said. “Sierra is getting cabin fever, I can tell. She doesn’t want to be cooped up with fortysomethings all day. Tricia called, and I told Sierra to invite her over. They’re just hanging out. I said they couldn’t leave the house.”
“That’s never stopped them before apparently. Tricia will probably take Sierra out later and they’ll knock over a convenience store.”
“It’s okay, Jason. Sierra needs friends and distractions.” She patted the bed. “So do you. Come on. Sit here.”
Jason did as she asked. He sat next to her and leaned in as Nora placed her arm around his shoulder. “I heard,” she said. “It’s all over the news here. I’m sorry.”
Jason closed his eyes and leaned in close to Nora. He let his head rest against her body and inhaled the scent of the soap she used, something mildly sweet like vanilla. He kept his eyes closed, being still like that and trying not to think.
“Do you want to talk?” Nora asked. “Do you want a drink or something to eat? I’m afraid I’m just not sure what to do for you or what you need right now.”
“This is good,” he said.
They stayed in that position for a few more minutes, and then Jason straightened up. He opened his eyes and the light from the lamp on the bedside table seemed brighter than ever.
“I feel like I should be crying for Logan,” he said, “but I can’t. It just doesn’t seem real.”
“Did Detective Olsen say anything else? Do they know what happened to Logan?”
“They’re not saying.”
Jason stood up and went into the bathroom. He turned on the tap and splashed cold water on his face. When he looked up, he saw a tired, middle-aged man, someone who seemed to be bearing a burden. He dried off with a towel, and the softness of the material against his face felt good.
Nora came to the doorway. “I know this has always plagued you, Logan leaving like that. And I know you’ve always blamed yourself a little. I wish I could say or do something to make it easier for you.”
“I know. And I appreciate it. I really do.” He hung the towel across the rack while Nora remained behind him in the doorway.
“I guess maybe someday I’d like to understand all of this,” she said.
“That makes two of us.”
Jason moved past her into the bedroom and started taking off his clothes. He stripped down to his boxers and T-shirt.
“We can just go to sleep or read,” Nora said, “if that’s what you want. I need to get ready for bed and I’d like to finish my book.”
“I’m sorry,” Jason said. “I’m not sure what I’d say if I did feel like talking. You know? Are you doing okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Anything new here besides the car thief showing up?”
“Not really.”
Jason could tell there was something beneath her words. “What?” he asked.
“We shouldn’t get into it.”
“Is something wrong?”
“No,” she said. “Look, I wasn’t going to say anything, but Sheila called today. They still want us to come to New York, and I know that’s not possible now. But she said there might be a job opening for me, a better job with the library.”
“Oh.”
“It’s a bad time, so we can talk about it later. I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”
“I asked,” Jason said.
“Well, okay. Another time, then. And, look, I’ll do whatever you want. Ednaville has its charms. The pace of life here has been good for us in a lot of ways. We’ve grown closer. Things are better. Maybe we shouldn’t mess with it.” Nora remained in the bathroom doorway and she said, “I guess we’ll have a funeral to go to.”
Her statement stumped Jason. He hadn’t even thought of it. If Logan was dead, and they had something to bury—bones or whatever remained—then there would have to be a funeral at some point. Except . . .
“His old man is in denial,” Jason said. “That’s one of the places I went today. He doesn’t believe Logan is dead. He may not be well in the head. He’s definitely sick physically, but he can’t seem to accept that his son is gone. So I don’t know what that means for a funeral.”
“He can’t let go?” Nora asked.
“Can’t or won’t.”
“That’s always a danger,” Nora said. “Hanging on to things for too long.”
* * *
A half an hour later, Sierra came to their bedroom. She knocked lightly on the open door, then stepped in. Jason and Nora were both in bed, books in hand. Jason was struggling against sleep and getting close to losing the battle.
“What’s up?” Nora asked.
Sierra came over and sat on the edge of the bed on Nora’s side. “Tricia asked me to go back to her house and spend the night,” she said.
“Really?” Nora said.
“I know you want me to stay close, but Tricia is pretty persistent. Besides, I kind of feel bad about her.”
“Why?”
“Well, we were really good friends when we were younger. We spent all of our time together for a couple of years. Then we drifted apart as we got older.” She lowered her voice. “You can tell why that happened. We don’t really have that much in common.” She shrugged. “But I guess I realize how nice it is to have friends. Friends of any kind. Tricia is pretty loyal. Anyway, it’s just to her house for the night. I’ll be back in the morning.”
Friends who lost touch. Friends who drifted away. Jason knew all about that. He couldn’t help but think of Regan and Logan. For a brief, intense period of time they were everything in his life, more important than his family in some ways.
“You’re right about that,” Jason said.
“About what?” Sierra asked.
“Friends. And how important they are. Especially at your age. It’s good that you value them.”
“It is,” Nora said. “But you can’t go anywhere tonight.”
“I can’t?”
“No. There’s too much going on, and with your mom missing—”
“She’s not missing. She’s gone,” Sierra said. “Off on a bender with that Jesse Lee Twat guy.”
“Jesse Dean Pratt,” Jason said. “And you shouldn’t say that about your mom.”
“We don’t know where she is,”
Nora said. “But we’re responsible for you, and we want you close until we know more.”
Sierra uttered the most theatrical sigh and paired it with a world-class eyeroll. She suddenly looked so much younger, so much more immature than at any time since she’d walked through their door.
“Tricia said you’d act this way. She said she knew you two would be too uptight to go along. You judge her because of the way she looks, don’t you?”
“And her police record,” Jason said.
“You don’t know anything about that,” Sierra said. “I was there too. Am I a criminal?”
Nora sat up and took her reading glasses off. “I know you’re getting a raw deal here, but it’s the only one we can offer right now. If you want to have Tricia back to the house tomorrow, you can.”
“Forget it,” Sierra said, and she left the room.
Nora turned to Jason. “You need to go downstairs and tell Tricia it’s time to go.”
“Why do I have to be the bad cop?”
“You’re a man. She might be more inclined to listen to you.”
“Really?”
“You think that girl has a father in her life?” Nora asked. “She’ll listen to a male authority figure.”
“Doesn’t this make you glad we don’t have kids?”
Nora sent a half-serious glare in his direction.
“Okay,” he said. “I’m going.”
He pulled on a pair of pants and walked downstairs. When he entered the living room, Sierra looked away, but Tricia met his gaze. She stood up and grabbed her purse, a saggy canvas bag with long straps.
“I was just going,” she said.
“Thanks for coming by,” Jason said. “If you want to come back—”
“I get it,” she said. “It’s cool.” She passed Jason on her way to the front door. “I should go back to my trailer park and make friends there.”
“No one said anything like that,” he said.
“You don’t have to.” Tricia pulled the front door open and looked back at Jason. “The truth is, you’re smart to keep her here. Very smart.”
Then she was gone like a puff of smoke. Behind Jason, Sierra stormed up the stairs. Her bedroom door slammed.
Chapter Thirty-eight
When Jason woke up the next morning, he saw that Nora was already awake and out of bed. Jason stepped out into the hallway and saw Sierra’s bedroom door closed. He eased over and leaned his head against the door, listening for any sign of his niece. He heard nothing and went downstairs, where he found Nora sipping orange juice in the kitchen.
“Have you seen the kid?” he asked. “Is she here?”
“I assume she’s in her room.”
“But you haven’t seen her?”
“I’m trying not to crowd her. I know she ran off once, but I’m trying to trust her. I believe her when she says—”
But Jason was already on his way up the stairs. He stopped outside Sierra’s room again and he knocked. He waited, hearing nothing, and then he knocked again.
“What?” Sierra said from the other side of the door. Her voice was muffled and scratchy, but he couldn’t mistake the irritation.
“I’m just . . . Are you okay?”
He heard shuffling and then Sierra pulled the door open. Her face was puffy from sleep, her hair a tangled mess. She wore a T-shirt and gym shorts and she squinted at Jason like she didn’t recognize him.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Is it Mom?”
“No,” Jason said. He felt like an idiot for startling the girl, for not trusting her as much as Nora seemed to. Or if Nora was uncertain about the trust, at least she didn’t let it dictate her actions. “I’m sorry. I thought . . .”
Sierra’s shoulders sagged. “You were just checking up on me. Jesus.”
She closed the door in Jason’s face. He really couldn’t blame her.
* * *
“I think one of us should stay home again today,” Nora said.
They sat across from each other at the kitchen table. Jason had brewed coffee and he was drinking from a mug with a big smiley face on it.
“I can call in,” Jason said. “I probably have more time saved up.”
“Are you sure?”
“It’s fine. You’ve missed a lot of work too.”
The word “work” brought their conversation to a halt. Jason hadn’t thought of the talk from the night before, but it was there with them all of a sudden. Nora had a potential job offer back in the city.
“I know we need to talk about New York,” Jason said. “I was hoping things would be more settled here soon.”
“You mean that we’d know where Hayden is.”
“Yes.”
“I agree that we should wait. I said that last night. Then again . . .”
“What if she never comes back?”
“What if we never know?”
“Let’s give it a couple of days,” Jason said. “We can wait a couple of days to make bigger decisions.”
* * *
With Nora gone, Jason tried to occupy himself around the house. He used his laptop to catch up on some things from work. He tidied up the kitchen, putting clean dishes away and dirty ones into the dishwasher. While he did these things, he paused from time to time to see if he could hear any sounds from upstairs that would tell him Sierra had woken up. He heard nothing. For all he knew, she was awake but choosing to sit in her room rather than come downstairs and join him. He tried to remind himself not to be hurt by the teen’s moodiness but felt a little stung anyway. He thought of all the times he had snapped at his parents or stormed away from them or shut them out of his life. Had they developed a thick parental skin, or did they also carry silent hurts inflicted by their children around with them?
At midmorning the front doorbell rang. Jason’s hopes and fears rose with every bell—phone or door—that might be bringing news of Hayden or Logan or anything else. He walked to the door feeling a mixture of dread and excitement, and when he looked out through the small window, he saw a man standing with his back to the front door. He was taller than Jason, and his once dark hair was more than half gray. Jason saw something familiar in the way the man stood, his rail-thin build and long, loose arms. He wore a light jacket and he stood with his hands resting on his waist, the jacket pushed back. As Jason stared, the man turned around and saw Jason staring at him. He waved. It was Derrick, Sierra’s father.
It took Jason a moment to act. He froze, staring back, not even waving. Derrick smiled without showing his teeth, and he held the smile for a long awkward moment. And then when Jason didn’t move to open the door, his former brother-in-law’s smile sank. Jason knew he was being rude, so he recovered himself and undid the lock. He pulled the door open and felt the morning air hit him.
“I’m sorry I didn’t call first,” Derrick said. “To be honest, I figured you’d be at work.”
“I’m working at home.”
Jason still stood in the doorway, his body filling the frame so that Derrick couldn’t enter. If Derrick thought he and Nora would be at work, what did he intend to do at the house? Was he hoping to come by and find Sierra alone?
Derrick looked older. In addition to the graying hair, his face showed more lines, especially around his eyes and mouth. But he maintained his long and skinny frame. His lantern jaw looked like it could break rocks, a contrast to the soft pitch of his voice.
“I wanted to see Sierra,” he said. “Is she here? She must be.”
“She’s asleep.”
Derrick checked his watch. “A little late.”
Jason wanted to ask how Derrick would know what was late for his daughter when he hadn’t seen her in almost two years, but he didn’t. He pulled the door shut behind him and stepped out on the porch. Derrick moved back, giving Jason room.
“You’re not even
going to let me in?”
“It’s not that.”
“Jason, I want to be honest with you. I don’t want to beat around the bush here. I think Sierra needs to come and stay with me until we know what’s going on with Hayden.”
“I thought you said you were okay with her staying here.”
“I did say that. But I thought about it a little after our phone call.” Derrick resumed his pose with his hands resting on his waist. Jason noticed that his belt looked worn. “I just think she should be with me. With Hayden missing . . . and now I’ve heard all about this Logan thing.”
“What does that have to do with it?” Jason asked.
“It just got me thinking. Life is short. Very short. Shorter for some than others obviously. Sierra is that age, about the same age as Logan when he died. If Sierra ever found herself in a tough spot like that, I’d want to be there to help her.”
“She’s already been in some trouble.”
“You mean the car thing? I know. That’s what we can’t have, can we?”
“No, we agree on that. I guess it would be pointless to ask if Hayden would have any reason to cover for Logan. Or Jesse Dean.”
“Why are you bringing that up again?”
Jason started to tell Derrick about the letters, but then decided it wouldn’t be productive. If Derrick knew something, he wasn’t sharing. And if he didn’t know, why give him the chance to possibly tell Jesse Dean what Jason knew?
“Nothing. I guess it’s in the past.”
Derrick stood with his feet close together. He looked like a man about to make a giant leap. “I know you don’t think much of me, you and Nora. Hell, your family never really thought much of me. Not your parents and not you.”
“Derrick—”
“No, no. It’s fine. No bullshit, remember?”
Jason felt chastened. His parents hadn’t liked Derrick, but in retrospect it seemed less about him and more about Hayden. How could they put any faith in a guy who wanted to be with Hayden? Who acted so wholly devoted to such a wayward, unpredictable soul? And they all knew the crowd Derrick ran with.
“You know,” Derrick said, shifting his weight a little, “I had to ask myself sometimes why Hayden gave me the time of day. She could have had any guy she wanted. You know that, right?”