Heartless (33 page)

“I’m in the dark cellar. I’m walking by red things.” I look down, touch one—it’s plastic—I lift it up, it’s empty. Smells like gas.

“Empty jerry cans, I think.” I put it down and keep walking. “I’m going deeper into the cellar.” Funny thing is, I don’t remember ever being in the cellar of this farmhouse, but something pulls me forward, and I seem to know where to go.

“There’s some light ahead. A room I think. There’s light under the door.” I push the door open. It’s a windowless sitting room with a bed in it. It’s lit entirely by candles and looks beautiful, but it feels strange. My palms are sweating. “Two people are on the bed…”

I look a little closer, through the long flickering shadows of candlelight. “A man is making love to a woman.” I use those words but the act is more brutal than that. Rougher, though not exactly violent. The woman gasps and I gasp along with her.

“It’s Pastor Guthrie!”

I want to back away but my body propels me forward through this vision. It’s not a memory, nothing I remember seeing. But it’s him. He’s naked. I recognize him. He grunts and moans and then collapses over the body beneath him. Her legs are long and slim and tanned. She’s perfectly still beneath him. Until she turns her head and looks at me.

“Oh my God.” Every part of my past body and present body tenses and the muscles contractions are so sudden it feels like a convulsion.

“It’s me. It’s me under him!
OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGod
.”

I’m crying there
and
here. More than crying, sobbing, shaking, convulsing. I feel arms on me. Miranda’s. And then I’m back in the cornfield with Ethan’s arms around me, and I’m happy there, sated. Despite his clumsy techniques, I’ve managed to have an orgasm, and now Ethan’s whispering that he loves me. In Miranda’s office I’m shaking. In Ethan’s arms I hear a loud ‘boom’. The ground shakes under me.

“What was that?” says Ethan. And then we both smell smoke.

I’m coughing, choking, on my own tears and snot and fear. Miranda’s holding me, soothing me, bringing me back to her office with her voice, the ascending stairs, the numbers.

“…Three,” she said.

I open my eyes. I’m in her office. Safe. She’s beside me on the couch. I’m sitting up now. I feel confused. I’m looking at two empty chairs.

“Where are they?” I whisper.

“I asked them to step outside.”

“When?”

How much did Josh hear? I remember everything now. I wanted so desperately for the past to be dead and buried that I actually had managed to bury some of it. Those particular memories. That particular shame.

“Just a minute ago,” said Miranda.

Which meant they heard it all. The whole fucking truth.

Once I’d calmed down enough, and blown through a half dozen tissues, Miranda went to the door. Geena came in, her face all tear-splotched.

“Heather, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say. Can I hug you? Please?”

I nodded and her arms folded around me as she held me close. She hugged me in way that my mother never did. Eventually, she pulled back and looked into my eyes. She stroked my cheeks.

“We’ll get through this. I promise.”

“Where’s Josh?”

Her face sort of cracked at my question. A whole new worry and emotion invaded the landscape of her face.

“He was upset. Hurt. He said he needed to clear his head. He needed to ride.”

I nodded, my heart sinking. This was too much for him. But it would be too much for me, too, if I lost Josh in the process.

“I told him to be careful,” said Geena. “I told him to come back as soon as he could.”

I nodded again. Josh’s reaction was out of my hands. Now that the whole truth was out, I had even more to deal with. More rage, shame, disappointment, and yes, at some point, forgiveness. That was always the last stop on any journey. But I didn’t know if I could take the next step on that journey without love. Without Josh’s love.

“You’re so strong and brave, Heather,” said Geena. “You aren’t alone in this. We’ll be there with you.” I believed Geena. I heard the love in her voice. But she couldn’t really speak for Josh since he wasn’t there.

Josh

I don’t have words, I feel only anger. Sharp like glass and acid roiling through my veins. I have to ride. I have to fly. I have to outrun the demons nipping at my heels. Heather,
my
Heather. Ravaged like that! I feel my stomach convulse as I barge through the outer door into the busy street. I retch into a bush but nothing comes out. I’m born from that man. That
monster
. I feel dizzy with shame and rage. I force myself not to think, not to imagine… I fire up my bike, pull out into traffic without looking, and a sedan swerves out of my way, horn blaring. I don’t care. I don’t give a shit if he hits me. I don’t give a fuck if I die. I race through red lights, tempting Fate. I head for the ocean and turn north. I open the throttle and race up the PCH, passing cars in my way, hardly noticing oncoming traffic.

Heather

Geena drove me home in her car. She promised to call me as soon as she heard anything from Josh. Neither of us had any choice but to wait. She headed back to her apartment while I made myself toast with peanut butter and banana. I wished I had marshmallows to put on top. Thinking about my first unofficial fro-yo date with Josh made my tears well up. My throat got tight and dry and I had to drink a big glass of milk to force the toast down.

Eventually, it was time to make my Tuesday night Skype call. I pressed the green call button and listened to the chirpy ring alerting my aunt and uncle half way across the world.

“Hey, honey,” said Wayne, answering. He had a silly grin on his face, which slipped away and was replaced by a furrowed brow of concern when he saw my pale, tired expression come into view.

“You okay, Heather?”

I shrugged. “I’ve been better and I’ve been worse.”

Marsha appeared on the screen. She sat herself down on Wayne’s lap and tilted up the screen so she could see me better. She looked freshly showered and glow-y.

“What happened, sweetie?” said Marsha.

I was done keeping secrets but now was not the time to go into the gory details of all that had happened in the last few days.

“I’m okay now. Some tough stuff came up during my appointment with Miranda is all.” I knew I had turned a corner. I had opened my closet of skeletons and stared them straight in their bony faces. And I hadn’t had to do it alone. Josh and Miranda had been right there with me.

“How’s the boyfriend?” said Wayne. “What’s his name again?”

I smiled. “Josh. Josh Hansen.”

Not Josh Guthrie. But that particular truth would have to come out sooner or later as well.

Wayne wrapped his arms around Marsha and gave her a squeeze. “Ain’t love grand?” he said. Sitting there like that, they looked adorable together, as if they were on a honeymoon. Marsha looked way better than she had a week ago. I had a funny feeling they were going to tell me they were extending their trip, which is why I was surprised when Marsha said,

“We’ve decided to come home early, Heather.”

“Really? Why?”

They looked at each other as if consulting one another on what to say next. I hoped they weren’t worried about me.

“I’m fine, you know. All’s good here. The reno’s almost done, though it might be a few days longer than planned…” I didn’t want to mention Leo was short his assistant because my ‘complications’ had gotten Josh got fired.

“Oh, we’re sure you’re handling everything beautifully. It’s not that,” said Marsha.

“Let’s tell her,” said Wayne. He looked like a kid on Christmas morning.

“What? Tell me what?”

Marsha leaned into the screen. Her cheeks were pink and she looked so happy.

“We have some news. Good news, I think.” She glanced at Wayne, who was still beaming.

“The best news!” he said.

“Well, out with it,” I said.

Marsha’s eyes lit up. “I’m pregnant.”

I swear I saw every one of her pretty white teeth as she smiled. But my smile was slower to take shape. Pregnant?

“But…but, how…” Was my graceful reply.

“I know, I know, I’m
old
,” said Marsha, rolling her eyes.

“Forty-one’s not old, honey. Clearly, it’s not
too
old,” said Wayne, who was obviously ecstatic.

“Wow.” I made myself smile. “So I guess congratulations are in order?”

“Thanks, Heather-bear,” said Marsha. “All these years we’ve never been able to conceive, and after all your mom’s troubles getting pregnant again, after you, I just thought maybe something was wrong with our family genes. Of course, it’s still early days. Can’t count chickens before they hatch and all that.”

“But that’s why we’re coming home early,” said Wayne. “To begin feathering the nest. Can you pick us up at the airport?”

“Um, sure. When?”

“Friday. 7 PM.”

This Friday? Nearly two weeks early.

After we signed off, I leaned back in my chair, too stunned to move for a few minutes. Wayne and Marsha were having a baby? Well, why not? It’s something they’d always wanted. They’d had me here for a few years. Granted I didn’t arrive as a baby, or even a cute toddler. I’d come to them as a traumatized teen. I guess I’d been their good deed. Now that it was time for me to move on with my life, and move out, they could get on with their lives, too. I wrapped my arms around my chest. Was I throwing myself a pity party? After all I’d been through, the happy news that my aunt and uncle were pregnant was making me feel sorry for myself? And then I realized it was because everything was so
real
now. It wasn’t just an idea that I was going away to college; I’d actually be leaving in a month. Wayne and Marsha were on their way home, and in nine months (probably less) a new human being would be born. A cousin.
My
cousin. That thought made my heart clench in my chest and my eyes start to water. Family. A new cousin would mean more family for me. And maybe I could help out. I could help make that little kid’s life be better than my own had been. So far. I still had a lot of life to live, as Miranda kept telling me. The question was: how did I want to live it?

I wandered through the new kitchen. There were still stickers on the appliances and a sheen of dust on the new granite counters. Leo would have to replace Josh if he was going to finish up the final touches by the end of this week.

It was getting late, but I knew I wouldn’t go to sleep until I heard from Josh. I was worried that he hadn’t called in by now. But maybe he needed time like I had needed time. Maybe he’d met up with Rob somewhere. Every minute I didn’t hear from him hurt. I decided to start tidying up the house for Wayne and Marsha’s return. I pulled kitchen stuff out of boxes and filled the new cupboards and drawers. When I got to the box of cookbooks, I stopped and perused a few. Even if Josh had given up on me, I knew I would die if I gave up on myself. In that gap in between, I would probably
feel
dead for a long time, but for Wayne and Marsha’s sake, and for my new cousin on the horizon, I had to do my best to participate in the living world. And I’d start by attempting to make that welcome dinner for Marsha's and Wayne’s homecoming with or without Josh.

When the phone finally rang later that night my cell did not display a number I recognized.

“Hello?” I asked tentatively.

“Heather?” I recognized Geena’s voice right away. She sounded like she still hadn’t processed all of her emotions from this afternoon.

“Heather, I’m so sorry. It’s Josh—” Her voice cracked and I heard her take a deep gasp-y in-breath. She was crying.

My heart tightened.

“Geena? What? What about Josh?”

It took her a minute to catch her breath. In that minute, I seemed to have lost the ability to breathe.

“He was on his motorcycle…” Her voice was all squeaky.

I closed my eyes tight. “Geena. Tell me what happened!”

“It went over a cliff.”

My knees buckled under me. And then the rest of me collapsed, too. I still had the phone to my ear but now my cheek was pressed up against the floor tile that Josh and Leo had laid just a couple of weeks ago. I waited for the four letter word that would destroy my heart.

“He’s… He’s not dead, Heather.”

The little three letter word that preceded the four letter word I dreaded forced new blood and oxygen into my veins. My heart started beating double time.

“He jumped. Flew more like,” said Geena. “He’s hurt. Really beat up. But breathing.”

“Where?”

“The PCH north of Montecito—”

“—No! Not the
cliff
. Where are you
now
?”

“Santa Barbara Cottage Hospital. But you don’t have to—”

“—I’m on my way.”