by Gen Griffin
“I don't care about any of the things that have gone wrong because none of them matter,” Cal yelled. His face was beginning to flush with anger.
“How can you say that?” Gracie demanded, stomping her foot against the ancient hardwood.
“Because it's the damn truth!”
“Should we go?” Trish whispered a little too loudly to David.
“Nah.” He shook his head and grabbed his beer off the coffee table. “It's just getting good. I'm thinking about running into the kitchen and popping some popcorn, but I'd hate to miss anything.”
“Fuck you,” Cal said to David.
“Did you really just say that our wedding isn't important to you?” Gracie was absolutely furious with her fiance.
“Has anyone died?” Cal leveled his dark eyes at Gracie. His fists were clenched at his side and his heavy jaw was set in a tight line.
“What?”
“Has anyone died?” Cal repeated.
“What does dying have to do with anything?” Gracie demanded.
“Oh, I don't know. I guess my priorities are a little fucked up after the last couple of years.” Cal crossed his arms over his chest. “I count any day where we don't wind up dealing with a corpse as a good day. Everyone in this room has either lost someone they cared about or fucking killed someone, in case y'all have somehow all forgotten.”
“Cal-,” David's voice had a warning tone to it.
“Fuck off, Breedlove. Are you really going to tell me you give two shits about an ugly dress or some screwed up flowers?” Cal turned his anger on David. “The entire time we were growing up, I never could figure out why you were always so damned cold. Nothing ever mattered to you. I didn't understand how you could always be so completely dispassionate about everything and everyone, but now I understand. Once you've watched enough horrible things happen, nothing really fazes you anymore, does it?”
“Well, it's not-.” David seemed to be struggling to find the right words.
Cal just rolled his eyes at him. “Even when Casey died, you didn't really care. She was just another problem to you. One more nasty little nuisance that needed to be dealt with.”
“That's not fair-.”
“Shut up. I'm not done.” Cal was practically spitting the words at him. “You watched your mother die when you were a kid. You watched Ricky fucking kill her. We both watched Ian run over Casey. We pulled her crushed, mutilated body out from under that truck together. We put her in the toolbox of your truck and you tossed me the keys, like it was nothing. Go bury her, Cal. That's what you said. Go bury her somewhere no one will ever find her.”
“Cal, please.” Gracie's anger was rapidly dissolving into a mixture of horror and dread. She didn't want to hear the words that were coming out of his mouth, but it was like a dam had broken inside of him and everything ugly was spilling out.
“I buried her, David. God so help me, I buried a little girl in the swamp because I was more worried about saving my own sorry ass then about being a decent human being. I was too worried about ruining my family's good name to consider what a monster I was.”
“You're not a monster,” Gracie said softly.
“I think the monster is in the eye of the beholder.” Cal began to pace back and forth across the room.
“Cal, we've only done what we had to do,” David said.
“Did we really have to hide Casey's body? Or how about the other one? The guy you chopped into pieces with a chainsaw and fed to the gators?” Cal was so mad he was shaking. “Or how about Curtis? I blew his fucking brains out all over Kerry's driveway. Funny how no one ever wants to talk about that. I pulled Pappy's .357 and I blew Trish's husband's brains out and no one said a word. Its almost kind of surreal.”
“Curtis was going to kill us,” David pointed out. He looked a little bit rattled by Cal's outburst. “He'd already shot Addison and killed Grover. You didn't have a choice.”
“Didn't I?” Cal asked. “He was hurt. I probably could have disarmed him, but I didn't try. It was easier to go for the kill shot and rest easy that everyone I cared about would be permanently safe from him. I chose to end his life, David. Maybe you don't have any qualms with that, but I'm willing to bet that Trish still has a few.” Cal looked intently at Trish. Her eyes widened and she took a deep breath.
“No one-,” David started.
“Maybe,” Trish said at the same time. David glanced at her, clearly surprised.
“See?” Cal smirked at David. “I told you so. Your girl thinks I'm a monster.”
“I don't think you're a monster,” Trish said quietly. “I think I'm the monster.”
The silence that hung in the air was nearly as still as the water in the bayou would get before a big storm.
“What?” Cal frowned at Trish.
Trish took a deep breath and then held her chin up. She met Cal's eyes dead on. “I knew Curtis was dangerous, but I lied to everyone about him. I even lied to myself. I was selfish. I cared more about my own skin than I did about protecting other people from the monster in my life. My grandfather died because Curtis followed me to Possum Creek. Addison got shot because Curtis thought I was sleeping with him. Kerry got buried alive because of me. You have blood on your hands because of me and my own inability to deal with the consequences of my mistakes.”
“Curtis would have killed you,” Cal said flatly.
“He would have killed me,” Trish agreed. “Just me. Curtis would have killed me and no one else would have had to suffer or die. My grandpa would still be alive. For that matter, Curtis would probably still be alive. Addy would never have been hurt. You don't think I feel horribly guilty about what happened? People are dead because of the choices I made. Maybe you pulled the trigger, but honestly, I put Curtis in front of your gun. He wouldn't have been here if it weren't for me and my own desire to live.”
David wrapped his arms around Trish and pulled her into his chest. “You were a victim, Trish. You can't blame yourself.”
“I can and I do,” she replied, even as she leaned her head against his shoulder. “I ask myself all the time if it could have ended differently. The answer is yes. I could have died instead. Two lives would have been saved.”
Cal stopped pacing. Some of the anger seemed to have gone out of him. “You can't feel bad for saving your own life,” he said.
“Then why do you feel bad for saving me?” Trish countered.
Cal sighed. “I don't know. I guess I just never thought I would be the person I've become.”
“Did any of us?” David asked. He was still holding Trish. “You say I'm cold and I don't show any emotion. That's bullshit. You, of all people, know that's bullshit. How many nights did I wake up screaming when we were kids?”
“You had night terrors,” Cal used the official name the psychiatrist had given Miss Loretta for David's condition.
“I had night terrors because I'd watched my Dad murder my mother when I was a little kid. The nightmares came back after Casey died and they've never completely gone away. I sleep better now than I used to, but I still don't sleep well. I don't think I ever will.” David took a deep breath before continuing. “We did what we did for a reason. Maybe we were wrong and maybe we shouldn't have done what we did, but we've always managed to protect the people who matter the most in our lives. That has to be worth something. I don't like waking up screaming, but I'd rather have nightmares every night for the rest of my life than lose Trish. Or Gracie. Or anyone in this room.”
Cal swallowed and then sighed. “I'd die for everyone in this room. No questions asked.”
“Then why are we fighting?” David asked him.
“I don't know,” Cal admitted. He stared up at the ceiling, almost as if he were praying.
“We're fighting because you don't care about our wedding,” Gracie reminded him.
Cal turned and looked at her, his eyes shining. “I'd die for you. How can you say I don't care? After all the hell we've been through, how can you think I don't care?�
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“Someone is trying to ruin our wedding and you're not even upset about it.” Gracie wanted to go to him but she didn't.
“Gracie, there is nothing that can ruin our wedding for me. You can walk down the aisle in a bikini and boots and it would still be the best damned day of my life. I don't care if half the town shows up to the wedding or if no one shows up. It doesn't matter to me. I don't care if we have food at the wedding. The menu's not important. I just want you by my side for the rest of my life.”
“Cal, I love you,” Gracie was fighting back tears.
“I love you too,” he said. “I'm sorry if I'm coming across as a cold-hearted asshole. Normally that's Breedlove's job, but I've been looking at life from a different perspective ever since people started to drop dead around me. Any day that we can walk away from is a good day in my book. I'm sorry that someone is trying to screw up the wedding, but I'm not about to cry or lose sleep over it. I still have you and you're the only part of the wedding that matters. I don't think I could keep on living without you.”
He held his arms out to her and Gracie flung herself into his chest, sobbing. He held her tight against his chest, stroking her hair and muttering soothing words into her ear.
“Now we can leave.” David stood up and pulled Trish to her feet.
Katie frowned at him as she picked up her uneaten plate of food. “I do have one last question.”
“For me or for them?” David gestured at Gracie and Cal, who were still clinging to one another.
“You. Whose body did you chop up and feed to the alligators?” Katie asked him.
David grimaced. “Trust me when I say you're better off not knowing.”
Chapter 43
“What do you mean, she's no longer working here?” Dale Malone stared at the night shift nursing supervisor with baffled surprise. Addison leaned on the edge of the nurses station counter and watched as his father's expression went from calm to flustered to furious just moments after asking someone to call Jane May down to talk to them.
“I'm sorry, Dale. Didn't she tell you?” Brianna Carter was frowning apologetically at them.
“Tell me what?” Dale demanded.
“I'm guessing that she quit her job?” Addison would have been amused if he hadn't been so damn annoyed by having to track Jane May down in the first place.
“Not quit, exactly. You're her son, right? Addison?”
“Yes ma'am.” He knew that now would probably be a good time to turn his natural charm onto his mother's 50-something year old divorcee supervisor, so he forced his best smile.
“You truly didn't know that your mother wasn't working here currently?”
“No ma'am.”
“She's been getting up, putting on her scrubs and leaving the house for work every day. Where else could she possibly be going?” Dale asked. His dark blue eyes shone with frustration as he smacked his palm flat down on the counter.
“Valid question,” Addison mused.
“Maybe the two of you should come into my office. We'll have a little more privacy in there.” Brianna was smiling, but her expression looked forced to Addy.
Dale nodded and the two of them followed Brianna from the main reception desk to a small back room on the far end of the hallway. She waited until the door was closed before she spoke.
“I really shouldn't be talking to either one of you, but I'm concerned about Jane May and you are listed as her emergency contact on all of her forms. I've been worried about her for the last few months. Her behavior has been extremely erratic.”
“I thought you said she wasn't working here?” Addison asked. He was fidgeting with the keys on his key ring, spinning them around over and over. He really wished he had a cigarette.
Brianna sighed. “As of three weeks ago, Jane May was put on paid administrative leave. Our staff psychiatrist is the one who recommended it.”
“Your psychiatrist?” Dale scratched his head and frowned. “Jane May has been a little preoccupied lately but I don't see where she'd be unable to work.”
“Dr. Chambless feels that her pregnancy is taking serious tolls on her mental health,” Brianna explained.
Addison stopped fidgeting. “I'm sorry, her what?”
Dale appeared dumbfounded. His jaw was hanging open as he stared at Brianna.
“It's entirely possible, in fact quite likely, that Jane May is experiencing a kind of psychosis as the result of her pregnancy,” Brianna said. “We strongly encouraged her to check herself in to an inpatient facility for further evaluation, but I'm guessing she didn't follow that advice.”
“I'm sorry. Did you just say my mother is pregnant?” Addison asked.
Brianna's warm brown eyes widened. “You didn't know?”
“I wouldn't have even thought that was possible. I'm almost thirty. Isn't she too old?”
“Her age is one of the reasons that the pregnancy is considered to be high risk.” Brianna tilted her head and looked at Dale. “Jane May hasn't told your children that she's pregnant.”
“Jane May hasn't told me that she's pregnant,” Dale said. His hands were jammed deep in the pockets of his khakis. “She shouldn't be pregnant.”
“She hasn't been through menopause yet,” Brianna said. “She's still fertile.”
“She may be, but I'm not.” Dale's complexion had turned a ghastly shade of green. “She insisted I get myself snipped after Gracie was born.”
Brianna bit her lip. It was obvious to Addison that the kindly middle-aged nursing supervisor had just realized that she'd dropped a bombshell on them.
“Jane May cannot be having a baby,” Dale said. “There has to be some kind of mistake. Some mix up.”
“I've seen her lab results,” Brianna said. “We did them here. We gave her the standard urine test and the a second blood test to confirm because she didn't want to believe the urine test.”
“Um, you don't happen to know exactly how pregnant my mother is, do you?”
“She's pregnant, Addison. You're either pregnant or you're not. There isn't a halfway point. It's all or nothing.”
“I meant how far along?” He said.
“At this point, seven or eight months.”
“That's impossible,” Dale said. “I saw her yesterday. She doesn't look pregnant.”
Addison frowned as a memory from his days in the hospital came back to him unbidden. “Yes, she does.”
“What?” Dale stared at his son as if he'd just sprouted a second head. “No, she doesn't.”
“Yes, she does. Maybe not to you or to me, but Katie asked me a couple months back if Mom was pregnant. Katie said she looked pregnant.”
Dale sat down roughly in the nearest chair. He buried his face in his hands. “This can't be happening.”
“I am so sorry,” Brianna said. “I thought you knew. I never would have dreamed that Jane May was hiding her pregnancy from her family.”
Addison took a deep breath and tried to force himself to think. He really needed a cigarette. “You said something about psychosis?”
“Yes,” Brianna said. “Jane May was behaving very erratically during her last few weeks at work. At one point, she started hallucinating. She claimed to be seeing birds flying through the hallways of the nursing home. No one else could see them. Dr. Chambless evaluated her on site and tentatively diagnosed her with pregnancy related psychosis.”
“When you say psychosis-?” Addison wasn't at all pleased with the news he was hearing, though it did explain a lot.
“Your mother needs help, Addison. I honestly assumed that she was getting it. She promised all of us here that she would seek professional treatment immediately. That was one of the reasons we agreed to give her paid leave. Jane May has been a wonderful employee here for a long time. I wouldn't leave her without her health insurance and income when she's already having a very difficult time. We're still hoping she'll get her problems under control and come back to work after the baby is born.”
“Jane May cannot be hav
ing a baby,” Dale muttered. “She just can't.”
Addison sighed. “This psychosis, would it make her do crazy things?”
“Crazy isn't the proper term, but yes. I suppose her actions could seem quite crazy if she's deep in the throes of a psychotic episode,” Brianna acknowledged with a nod. “Especially if she's been left untreated. Do you mind me asking what kind of things you're asking about?”
Addison quickly filled her in on the problems they had been having with Gracie's wedding plans.
“Oh my,” Brianna said. “Poor Jane May. She must be feeling so confused and lost. You have to find her, Addison. You need to get her help immediately.”
“I see that now,” Addy said. He didn't know how he felt about that his mother was both pregnant and likely psychotic. Nothing that had happened tonight seemed real. “Thank you for taking the time to talk to us. You don't have any idea where she might be, do you?”
“No,” Brianna said. “I can try to call her, if you like?”
“Please,” Addison said.
“Just so long as you promise me that you'll get her help,” Brianna said. “You can't be angry with her. She's sick. She shouldn't be held responsible for the actions she's taken.”
“I'll get her help,” Addison promised.
Brianna picked up her phone and dialed. Three phone calls and twenty minutes later, Addison was walking out of the nursing home with an address written on a scrap of paper in his hand. Dale was trailing after him, scuffing his feet against the asphalt as he walked.
“Dad, come on. We need to get going.” Addison unlocked his truck by pressing the clicker on the key fob. The anger he'd felt towards his mother earlier had worn off, dissolving into dread.
“Addy, I can't do this.” Dale stopped and stood in the middle of the parking lot aisle. His head was hanging down and his shoulders were slumped.
“Dad, we have to find her. Brianna got us the address to where she's staying. We need to go get her and have her admitted to the hospital for a psychiatric evaluation.”
“You don't understand,” Dale said miserably. “I can't do this. I just can't. My wife is pregnant with another man's baby. I can't handle that tonight. Give me a few days to get used to the idea.”