My dad gives me a rueful smile and slaps me on the shoulder. ‘Well, I couldn’t have gotten sober without you and your sister, so I figure I owed you.’
We drink our coffee in silence for a while, and when I finish I put my mug down.
‘I’m going out for a bit,’ I say to my dad.
‘Where are you going?’ my dad asks.
‘To the recruitment office. Get my papers signed before I change my mind.’
51
Jessa
‘Have you thought about what you want to do for your birthday?’
‘Huh?’ I turn to look at my mom.
We’re folding laundry together – babies seem to create a crazy amount of mess, and my mom likes to help Jo out as much as possible so she can concentrate on her studies.
‘Your birthday – it’s next week. Have you thought about what you want to do?’
‘Oh, no,’ I answer vaguely. Truthfully I’ve been trying to avoid thinking about it because my birthday also happens to be the anniversary of the day Kit and I first got together. Thinking back to that night – of our first kiss behind the bushes, the road trip out into the desert, of lying out under the stars – only makes me sad . . . though not thinking about it seems to make me sadder. Once again I try to push the memory of this morning out of my mind, though I fail. I can’t stop remembering Kit’s face when he told me he wanted me, and then again when I told him it was too late. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget his expression.
‘What’s up?’ my mom asks, folding one of Riley’s blankets. ‘You seem a million miles away.’
‘Nothing,’ I say. I’m still getting used to these conversations with my mom. It’s only since Riley was born that she’s snapped out of her stupor and stopped taking the Valium. She’s started to be more engaged with life again, and with me. I can’t put it all down to the baby. My dad’s resolution to be a better father and husband seems to have something to do with it too.
‘Is Todd going to take you somewhere nice?’
‘I don’t know,’ I say, busying myself with a pile of bibs.
‘Are things OK with you two?’ my mom asks.
I think about not saying anything but she’ll probably find out anyway from Kit’s dad. ‘Kit came by this morning,’ I tell her.
My mom stops folding and stares at me. ‘He’s back?’
I know my mom is desperate to talk to him, to reassure him she doesn’t in any way blame him for what happened. She still thinks of Kit as her second son.
I nod. ‘Yeah, he’s back.’
‘What did he say?’ she asks, the laundry totally forgotten.
I take a deep breath. ‘That he loved me. That he wanted to be with me. All this stuff about how sorry he is and how much he wants to make it up to me.’ I laugh and shake my head.
My mom doesn’t say anything, and when I glance at her out of the corner of my eye, I see her eyebrows are almost meeting her hairline. ‘And?’ she asks. ‘What did you tell him?’
I shrug and snap out a sheet. ‘I told him it was too late. I mean,’ I rattle on, ‘of course I told him no.’ I start folding with swift, precise movements. ‘I can’t believe he thinks he can just waltz back into my life like nothing’s happened and expect everything to be the same. It isn’t. I’ve moved on. I’m with Todd now.’
I stare down at the sheet in my hands. It looks like it’s been folded by a toddler with one hand tied behind his back. I shake it out in frustration and start again. For the last five hours all I’ve been able to think about is Kit, about our conversation. I’ve been replaying it over and over, each time getting more and more frustrated and angry. My head is in as much disarray as the sheet.
‘Do you like him?’
I look at my mother sharply. ‘Kit?’ I ask confused. These girly chats are new ground for us and I’m not entirely comfortable talking to her about boys. Maybe that’s a hangover from having to date Kit in secret.
‘No. Todd.’
‘Yes,’ I say, a little too fast. ‘Of course I like him.’
‘I mean really like him?’ my mom asks.
‘Yeah,’ I say. Then add, ‘I think.’
‘You think? You shouldn’t have to think about it, Jessa.’
I drop the sheet back into the basket. That thing is never going to get folded. ‘I don’t know what to do,’ I admit, and as soon as I say it it feels like a little bit of the weight has lifted off my shoulders. I look at my mom. There’s too much confusion in my head. I can’t think straight.
‘Yes, you do,’ my mom says.
I can’t help the frown. ‘Kit?’ I say. ‘You think I should break up with Todd and get back together with Kit?’
My mom gives me an it’s obvious kind of look and I shake my head firmly. ‘I’m not going to do that. No way.’
‘Do you see yourself marrying Todd?’ she asks.
Marriage? What? What is she talking about? ‘No! I’m only eighteen! Are you crazy?’
‘Did you see yourself marrying Kit?’
I draw in a breath and think about lying, but then I close my mouth and nod. Because I did. I used to dream all those things – weddings, babies, rocking chairs on the porch – not that I ever admitted it to him or anyone else.
My mom smiles smugly. ‘There’s your answer, then. You only live once, Jessa.’
I snatch one of Riley’s onesies from her hands as she reaches for it from the basket. She’s struck a chord. Kit’s words from long ago come back to me: Life’s short, you only get one shot. Make it count.
‘It’s not that simple,’ I say, shaking my head to try and dislodge the memory of Kit.
‘Yes, it is,’ my mom answers. ‘Your father didn’t marry the right person, Jessa. He should never have married me. He loved someone else.’
The casual way she’s just thrown that into the conversation blindsides me, renders me totally speechless for several seconds. I watch her as she continues to fold, a faintly sad smile on her lips.
‘But . . .’ I shake my head trying to clear the confusion. ‘What?’
‘I was his rebound,’ my mom says. ‘The same as Todd is for you. He married me because he wanted to hurt her, and by the time I found out I was second best, the consolation prize, it was too late. I was pregnant with Riley.’
She keeps folding clothes as though what she’s just told me isn’t any kind of big deal, isn’t one of the most heartbreaking things I’ve ever heard. It can’t be true. ‘No,’ I say. ‘Mom . . .’ My own heart is breaking for her. How could my dad do that? How could she live with him this whole time knowing that he loved someone else?
‘It’s true,’ my mom says, and then looking up and seeing my expression she adds, ‘It’s OK. I was an idiot.’ She smiles ruefully. ‘I was young. I knew something wasn’t right, but I ignored my instinct and went ahead and married him anyway. I was madly in love with him. And it wasn’t his fault he was still in love with someone else.’
‘It was his fault,’ I say, suddenly outraged. I was just managing to forgive my father for being an asshole to Kit and Riley, and now this. ‘He shouldn’t have married you, not if he was still in love with someone else.’
She gives me a pointed look and I squirm. Shit. Am I just as bad as my dad? Am I being totally unfair to Todd? I hadn’t thought so until now. But it’s not like I plan on marrying Todd . . . so then, why do I feel so bad? I squeeze the thoughts out of my head. I’m getting distracted.
‘Why did you stay with him?’ I ask.
‘Because of you two children. Once you have kids, everything changes. And I knew that leaving him, taking you two with me, would have destroyed him.’
‘But I don’t understand,’ I say to my mom. ‘What happened? Who was Dad in love with?’
My mom glances at her watch. ‘It’s a long story and Riley’s going to be awake in a moment. Jo’s going to be here in half an hour and I want him fed by then.’
‘OK,’ I say, flustered, my head spinning.
‘And you have s
omeplace to be, don’t you?’ my mom asks as she takes the basket of laundry and heads for the door.
‘Where?’ I ask.
She pauses in the doorway and looks back at me. ‘Isn’t there someone you need to see?’ She gives me another pointed look and, just like that, as if she’s turned on a light in my brain, everything becomes clear to me. I know exactly what I need to do.
‘Thanks, Mom,’ I say, rushing past her.
Just as I reach the door, I turn and do something I haven’t done in a long time – I race back and throw my arms around her and hug her. For a moment she falters; I hear the breath catch in her throat. Even though the laundry basket is wedged between us creating a barrier, it feels as if a lot of other invisible barriers have just been broken down, and when I rush off again, breathless and in a mildly euphoric state of panic, I feel so light and free that I burst out laughing as I run up the stairs, and my dad, coming out of his study with his car keys in his hand, stands stock still in the hallway and watches me, his mouth falling open.
‘Slow down!’ he calls out as I trip on the top step in my haste to get to my bedroom and find my phone.
I look over my shoulder. He’s smiling up at me. I grin back at him.
‘Can’t!’ I say. ‘I’m late for something.’
52
Kit
All these rows of white stones – like rows of teeth growing out of the earth – give me the creeps. I feel like I need to tiptoe, or at the very least apologize to the people I’m walking over.
As I weave between the gravestones, I try not to think of the last time I was here. I barely remember much of it anyway, thankfully. The only thing I recall clearly is trying to kill a tree with my fists. I broke several bones in my hands, and now they ache like hell whenever it rains and make me associate cold weather with death.
I come to Riley’s grave and take a deep, jarring breath as I read his name carved into the stone. I sit down cross-legged in front of it, and for a while all I do is stare at the dates, finding it hard to believe that so much time has passed, feeling frustrated at all he’s missed, angry at how short his life was, that he never really got to live it. I look at the fresh bunches of flowers, wondering who left them – Jessa? Jo? His mom?
‘I miss you, man,’ I finally say.
I wasn’t sure what I was planning on doing when I got here, whether I’d just say a few words in my head or nothing at all, but once I open my mouth it all comes rushing out. ‘I’m sorry,’ I say, tears burning my eyes. It feels like the floodgates are opening after being cemented shut for the last nine months, and suddenly I start to cry. ‘I fucked up,’ I sob. ‘In so many ways. I wasn’t there for Jo and I hurt Jessa. You told me you’d beat the crap out of me if I ever hurt her, and I have.’ I pause to swallow away the rock-shaped lump in my throat. ‘I wish you were around to beat the crap out of me. But I guess on the upside, at least I get to keep my balls.’ I laugh through my nose, snorting snot. ‘That’s what everyone’s always telling me to do – try to focus on the positives in my life. That’s one, I guess. I still have my balls. I don’t have too many other positives to focus on right now.’ I shake my head and wince. ‘What am I doing? Here I am complaining about that and you’re dead. Sorry.’
I’m sitting in front of a grave talking to thin air. I must look like a madman. But I don’t care. This is what I need to do, I realize. I’ve needed to do this for a while, and it feels cathartic to finally get everything out into the open at last, out of my head. And maybe there is nothing here, nothing more than bones turning to dust, but it feels like Riley is here with me, some part of him at least, and that he can hear me. And if there’s the slightest chance that he can, that he’s listening right now, then I want him to know the truth of everything.
‘I’m sorry it was you and not me,’ I say. ‘I’m sorry I’ve been a shit friend. I’m sorry you never got to meet your son.’ At this point the tears start to fall freely. ‘Dude, he’s so perfect. I wish you could see him. I’m going to be the best godfather ever,’ I say, choking on the words. ‘I’m going to be there for him, I swear it, Riley. I’ll take care of him and Jo. I promise you I won’t let anything bad ever happen to them.’ Can he hear me? I so want him to hear me. To believe me. ‘Your dad’s taking care of them too. Crazy, huh? You had to go and die before he stopped being an asshole. Kind of sucks. But it’s true. I know, are you spinning in your grave at the news? Jessa told me he’s helping Jo out. He’s set up a trust in the baby’s name. Cool, huh?’
For a few minutes I just sit there not saying anything, letting the silence of the place seep into me. For the first time in nine months, my mind feels unclogged, clear, and the tension in my body is ebbing away. I look around at the graves. Being around dead people is actually kind of peaceful. I wish I’d done this sooner.
‘In other news,’ I finally say, breaking the silence, ‘Jessa broke up with me. I totally deserved it,’ I add quickly. I try to imagine what Riley would say if he were here. God, I miss him. I miss being able to talk to him about stuff like this. I miss the banter and the jokes and the laughter. ‘She’s got a new boyfriend – remember that guy Todd? She’s dating a guy called Todd. Jesus.’ I rip up a clump of grass. ‘Man. I really fucked up. Your dad must love him, though, because unlike me, Todd actually gets to enter the house.’ I laugh to myself for a moment before I remember once again the look on Jessa’s face when she told me it was too late. The laughter fades away. I bow my head. ‘I still love her, Riley,’ I say.
Oh man. Riley is probably rolling his eyes somewhere on the other side, telling me to get my shit together and stop crying like a baby. ‘So that’s my news,’ I say, finally looking up. ‘What’s happening with you? What’s it like on the other side?’
I’m met by silence. I get up, feeling a thousand years old but a thousand times lighter too. I tap the top of the gravestone. ‘I love you, bro,’ I say. Then add, ‘You see my mom, say hi to her for me.’
I check my watch. It’s twenty minutes before the recruiter’s office shuts. I need to get a move on.
53
Jessa
I don’t have a key any more to Kit’s place, so I pound on the door, my mouth dry and my heart beating so fast I think it might burst. What am I going to say to him? Am I doing the right thing? My gut answers for me. My stomach is doing backward flips and loop the loops. I’m so excited I feel like I might throw up right there on the doorstep. Kit’s truck is in the driveway, and the familiar sight of it sends a ripple through me. I look at my phone. I’ve tried calling him, but his phone is switched off.
After what feels like a lifetime, the door finally opens, but it’s not Kit standing there, it’s his dad, and the words that had gathered on the tip of my tongue instantly dissolve.
‘Oh, hi,’ I say, recovering. ‘Is Kit here?’
Ben shakes his head. ‘No. He’s gone out.’
‘Where?’ I ask. ‘I need to see him.’
‘He’s gone to the recruiter’s office.’
‘What?’
‘He’s re-enlisting.’
‘No,’ I hear myself say.
‘He felt it was the only thing to do.’
Ben’s expression isn’t accusatory – he’s far too compassionate for that but that’s the way I take it anyway. I know Kit. I know he’s doing this because of me. Damn, I think to myself, my head starting to swim – I’m too late. How can I be too late?
‘If you hurry, you might just catch him,’ Ben says, glancing at his watch and grimacing.
I look up sharply. Catch him? Is there still a chance? He nods at me and that’s all I need to take off running.
‘Good luck!’ I hear him yell after me as I slam the car door.
The recruiting office is on the other side of town. The whole way there I’m in a crazed panic. Transplant teams carrying donor organs are probably less frantic than I am right now. I try not to think about what I’ll do if he’s already signed on the dotted line, and start praying. I haven’t prayed s
ince Riley died, but I pray now, fervently, my foot on the floor, weaving in and out of traffic on the freeway like I’m in Fast & Furious, thanking God that Kit taught me to drive and asking Him to intervene on my behalf and stop Kit from signing any papers.
I screech to a halt in the only free parking space (divine intervention?) and race across the lot, leaping over a low wall and sprinting towards the door with the MARINE CORPS RECRUITING OFFICE sign over it. Out of breath, I make it to the door and throw myself against it. It doesn’t budge and I rebound off it. It’s only then that I notice the closed sign right in front of me. I check my watch. It’s two minutes after five. I rest my head against the tinted glass and try to peer through to see if anyone is in there. The office is dark, though. All I can make out are some posters on the walls and two desks, papers neatly squared away on both. Are Kit’s signed papers there?
Feeling faint, I turn around and stand there for a few seconds, completely dazed and unsure of what to do. I’m too late. I’m too late! I kick my foot hard against a nearby pot plant and let out a cry. Why did he have to do this? Goddamn him. I burst into tears and my foot starts to throb. My head is still clogged with thoughts, most of them confused. Was I really going to stop him?
I take a deep breath and rub my eyes, forcing myself to get it together. I step away from the door, noticing the CCTV camera pointed at me. I’ve cried enough over Kit – I refuse to cry any more. Maybe this is just the way it’s meant to be. Maybe it’s all for the best.
My phone chooses this moment to start ringing. I pull it out and glance at the display. It’s Todd. Oh God, I’m late. We were supposed to meet at five. I totally forgot. My finger hovers over the button. I’m not sure I can handle talking to him right now. He’s going to want to know where I am.
I stare at my reflection in the glass door. It’s like looking at a ghost – a dull, grey, miserable-looking ghost. The phone keeps ringing. Maybe I should just say nothing. Todd need never know. We can just carry on like we were.