Since Ethan had left his car in the cornfield, he took his mother's car.
Driving and smiling, Ethan loosened up, happy for the nearness of Tara. He considered turning the car down a quiet field road that led back to a woods, where in past times they sat on a bluff edge and necked until their faces hurt. On the grassy bluff, on a summer day, they came close to making love, among the honeysuckle and snapdragons, but naked and unwed they both grew ashamed, the moral rules imbued to them taking over, guilt on auto-pilot. That day in the grass came back to him frequently, with occasion enough that he regretted not continuing to the end. The sunkissed afternoon, the bees buzzing about the prairie grass, clouds overhead rowing across the blue sky, the sylvan maples and oaks below, and Tara's skin and shape on the white blanket, tracing the curve of her back with his finger, her hand clasped in his, the unforgettable sigh and the words "I want you" right before they stopped.
Ethan mentioned the dirt road and the bluff. Tara only nodded and looked out the window. Clearly uninterested. He changed the subject. "That Dawn," he said, "she has a mean streak. I watched her shock her sister today on the fence."
"Why would she do that?" said Tara, sitting far from Ethan on the other side of the car.
"Because she's mean." Reaching across the center console, he placed his hand on her hand. "What a great surprise, to see you like that. I didn't expect it. Whenever I see you I feel like I'm really home. More than seeing my room, or the dog, or even my Mom. It's like something lights up inside me. You always do that to me, and it's the exact opposite when I see your taillights leaving campus and I know it's just me and my roommate again."
"That's nice," said Tara, letting her hand lay flat, not lacing her fingers in his, not stroking his wrist the way she usually did.
Nice. Something amiss in her voice. "Did you get your letter yet, from the University? I can't imagine why you wouldn't be accepted immediately."
"Not yet. Nothing so far. But I did get accepted to Madison."
"Wisconsin? You didn't tell me you were applying there."
"I didn't want to tell you." Her face saddened. "They have a good business program."
Ethan smiled at her and squeezed her hand. "Do they? I never thought to ask about that. I just get selfish for you to come to the U. But if that's what you want. Madison, how far is that from Minneapolis? Not that far anyway. Probably no farther apart than what we've been doing the last year and a half." She did not look at him. "Right, Tara? A couple of hours is no big deal. Now if you said, Massachusetts, or Florida, then I'd say, well, I'd say the same thing."
Her hand slipped into his and she squeezed his fingers, but she still stared out the window. Sensing a distance between the seats, Ethan threw himself into the gap. "I should have called you earlier today. I didn't know I would be home until last night. It was kind of an emergency."
"Oh?" she said, turning her head from the window, but unable to maintain eye contact.
"I know we haven't seen each other in a few weeks, so we're a little off-track. I've been swamped with schoolwork – and honestly, probably taking it too seriously, getting caught up in it. You know me. I've bored you enough on the phone with details of that."
Still no smile. A few miles of silence and the rusty water tower with the word Immaculate came into view. Ghosts with round heads swayed from a tree in a yard, hanging over large orange leaf bags shaped like Jack-o-lanterns. The silence was unsustainable.
"Is something wrong, Tara?"
"No."
"Cat got your tongue?"
"Can we stop at my house? I need to go home."
"That's where I'm going, as requested. You look tired. Did you sleep much last night? That is, assuming you didn't sleep in a truck, like Dawn said. She is something."
"I was at a party," she said, with a tear rolling down her face.
"Tara, what's wrong?" He laughed, thinking he could repair her, but stopped. "Should I park so we can talk?"
"No, keep going. Please drive. Drive around the town for a minute or two, just drive."
"Sure. I'll go the other way. Tell me what's wrong. You were at a party. And?"
"The police came and broke it up," she said, dabbing her eye with her sweater sleeve. "But I didn't get a ticket. I got away."
"So…no harm done then, right? Nothing wrong with going to a party." He squeezed her hand until she pulled away.
"And Jacob helped me escape from the Bluffs."
Ethan slowed down to a crawl, driving five miles an hour down a city street. Two boys in costume bashed at each other in a yard with plastic light sabers. He said, "That was good of him."
"Except we got stuck in the mud and couldn't get out. Down by the…" She sobbed and lost her voice. "By the stream."
At a stop sign, Ethan let the car idle, waiting for her to go on. No cars behind him. His leg tensed against the brake. "But you're fine now, Tara. Is that all? I mean, you're OK, that's all that matters."
"I haven't been home yet." The sleeve to her eye again. "So my parents are going to blame you."
He needed to ask. "Did something happen?" A car approached now from the rear, an elderly couple. "Did Jacob…did he try something?"
Her face was hidden by the dabbing sweater sleeve. Behind Ethan's car, an elderly man sat with his hands on the wheel like a statue, waiting for Ethan to turn, and Ethan rolled down his window to wave the car around.
"Are you sure, Tara? You can tell me anything. And he's my brother, so it's one thing if he did you a favor, but if he made a move."
"Nothing happened," said Tara, letting her hand down. Passing by, the elderly couple looked at Ethan and Tara, bending their necks to gawk. "I need to go home now."
Turning toward her, he said, "Tara, can you look me in the eye, and tell me that Jacob did not try anything funny?"
"He…"
"Yes?"
"He didn't try anything. Please, Ethan, I need to go home now."
For a few seconds he continued reading her and then settled back into his seat to drive to the Ingeston house. After two turns on the streets without curbs, he saw the familiar sight of Tara's house, the tree in the yard, the Halloween decorations. Dave Ingeston leaned against his Chevy Suburban with an unwelcome look on his face. Not knowing what to expect, Ethan let his car glide to a halt in the usual parking spot he took up when visiting the Ingeston's. Tara did not say anything but stepped out of the car without bothering to look at Ethan. She ran to her father with contrition, who embraced her deeply while peering over his daughter's shoulder, looking directly at Ethan.
"This should be interesting," Ethan muttered, stepping into the street, into a street that for two years felt like home but now felt foreign.
"Stay right there," Dave said to Ethan. "Tara, please go inside."
Tara said, "Daddy, it's not his fault. It was my fault."
Pointing at the door, Dave commanded Tara to the steps by the front door. With his hands in his coat pockets, holding the twenty dollar bill from Renee in his hand, Ethan awaited Dave's judgment, already resolved to say little, to bear whatever Dave needed to speak in anger.
"Surprised you had enough nerve to bring her back," said Dave, approaching Ethan. His voice shook. Dave was not a man accustomed to confrontation in his job as a civil engineer for the state. "You could have called. You could have done something to let us know where she was. She's not in college, she's still a kid."
Ethan said nothing but nodded.
"You know, to be honest, I never trusted you from the minute you showed up with your letter jacket jingling. That night you knocked on her window, I should have told her then – you only wanted one thing."
Lowering his head, Ethan accepted the insults, as these admissions plunged into him, cutting two years of good memories into pieces.
"I guess I was blind. I convinced myself that this type of thing wouldn't happen with you," said Dave.
"But I would like to know what happened last night, in as short a form as you can, before I go get the real story from her."
Ethan picked his head up. "Why don't you ask Tara," he said, "so you can tell me what happened. I wasn't in Immaculate last night."
"If she wasn't with you, then who was she with?"
"Bye, Dave," said Ethan, opening his car door. When he started his car, he remained calm and moved the gear selector, turned his radio on, and pulled out into the street. With Tara barricaded in the Ingeston house, Ethan could ask no more questions of her, but only take her word. But with Jacob, he harbored unsettled doubts. In the passenger side mirror, he witnessed Dave standing at the end of his driveway, mouth open, his world quaking along the same faultline.