Moonstone (33 page)

“Thank you for being an asshole?” Joy grinned. “And what about Tina?”

“I called everything off with her.”

Joy touched the diamond pendant and sent it in another spin. “We need to talk, don’t we?”

Vanessa met Joy’s gaze. “What do you mean?”

“About us. About this.” Joy ran a fingertip up the length of Vanessa’s exposed thigh and then stopped. “Molly’s serious and she doesn’t want to share you. And maybe you’re falling in love with her. So what are you willing to give up?” When Vanessa didn’t answer, Joy continued, “Kelsey doesn’t like the idea that I’m in a relationship with you either. I have a feeling that both of us need to jump all the way in with these two. Or we’re going to regret it.”

“I keep trying to convince Molly of the benefits of an open relationship—that she could be out dating someone else tonight and I wouldn’t mind.”

“But she doesn’t want to go clubbing or be on some online dating site because she’s already found the one she wants,” Joy countered.

Vanessa closed her eyes. “What are you saying?”

“We need to kiss and break up.” Joy sighed. The words felt heavy. But right.

Vanessa set the pendant back in the drawer and settled back on the pillows. She wiped tears from the corners of her eyes and then was quiet for a long moment. “Between you and me, sex with you is better.”

“And that’s the important part,” Joy said. She grinned. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell Molly.”

“Molly wants us to be exclusive. But I’ve been avoiding all of those conversations. She knew I was with you from the beginning. She knew what she was getting into with me.”

“Is she telling you or asking?”

“Asking.” Vanessa sighed. “She wants me and only me. And I want to make her happy since she makes me happy.” Several minutes passed and Vanessa finally reached for Joy’s hand. “Maybe you’re right. But we can break up tomorrow morning. Not tonight.”

Joy thought of responding with a joke about breakup sex, but the words caught in her throat. A weight had settled on her chest. She had no business being in Vanessa’s bed. Vanessa was right. Love was the ups and downs. She pushed away the thought that she’d made a mistake with Kelsey. Kelsey was the one who had walked out and the one who hadn’t called back. But she didn’t want to think about Kelsey now or the fact that she’d made a mistake coming to see Vanessa tonight. She took another sip of the wine. “I’m happy for you. But I’m going to miss this.”

“Don’t get sappy on me now,” Vanessa said. “Anyway, knowing my reputation, this girl won’t last. I’ll probably give you a call in six months wanting a hook up.”

“Or you’ll be inviting me to your wedding.”

Vanessa swatted at Joy’s leg. “When Hell freezes over.” She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. “It’s only eight. We have the next twelve hours to forget about those women who will probably break our hearts. I’m meeting Molly for breakfast tomorrow.” Vanessa reached for Joy’s glass of wine. She took a sip and then swirled the liquid. Her eyes narrowed and a sly smile crossed her face. She tilted the glass toward Joy’s exposed belly. She moved the glass lower toward Joy’s legs. “Tonight I have you.”

The wine was dangerously close to the lip. “You wouldn’t dare,” Joy said. She tensed.

“I might. But only a drop or two…I don’t want to waste the wine. But I would like to see you squirm.”

Joy thought Vanessa would pull away at the last minute. She waited, staring her down. “You know that you’ll pay for this.”

“I like the sound of that,” Vanessa said. She tipped the glass.

The wine was impossibly cold and Joy gasped when it hit her thigh. Before she could retaliate, Vanessa bent her head to lick the wet skin.

Kelsey knocked on the door again. Three loud knocks. When no one appeared, she stepped back and stared at the doormat.
Welcome
. The front lights were on and two cars were parked in the driveway. She was almost certain she’d heard noises inside and still no one opened the door. Kelsey glanced at her watch and then her phone. She’d texted Joy several times, but there was no response to any of her texts. Kelsey didn’t blame her. She’d wrestled all afternoon with what she would say to Joy if she actually called. Finally she’d decided she had no reason not to drop in at the Padgett house and no obligation to explain anything to anyone.

She knocked on the door one last time. When she turned to leave, the door swung open. Hannah stood in the entryway. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she was dressed in light blue fleece pajamas. The pajamas were too sedate for Hannah. Maybe they were on loan from Sadie or maybe Mrs. Padgett had bought them for Hannah after one more return from rehab. One more try.

“I knew it was you. I was wondering how many times you’d knock before you walked away.” Hannah leaned against the doorframe. “We have a camera.” She motioned to a light above the doorway. Her left arm was in a cast and a fine scar ran across her right cheek, but there was no other visible remnant of the accident. “I never guessed you’d buy a cherry red anything. Decided you were done with European imports and wanted American made?”

Kelsey nodded at the red car. “It’s a rental.”

Hannah stepped back from the doorway. “Coming in?”

Kelsey hesitated. She reached into her sweatshirt pocket and felt for the two pill vials. “You know that last day on the houseboat?”

Hannah shrugged. “Don’t ask me to remember details. Most of last year was a blur.”

“I should have gone with you,” Kelsey said. She felt the mounting tears and tried to blink them away. “They came to take you to the hospital. You were so out of it, they had to put you on a stretcher and carry you out to the ambulance. I felt sick watching them tie you down.” Kelsey paused. Her mouth felt like it was full of cotton. She swallowed and tried to continue. Hannah’s expression was hard to read. Maybe she was stoned on prescription meds. Maybe it was pot. Or maybe this was the new Hannah—beat down and a shell of the woman who could outdrink and out-dance anyone at the club and then convince a total stranger to kiss her. “You begged me to come with you. I stood there watching them carry you off. I didn’t move a muscle. I couldn’t even look at you.” Kelsey glanced at Hannah. “Sometimes I wake up in a cold sweat and I’m reliving that same moment. I hear your voice screaming and I try answering, saying that I’m right behind you, but no sound comes out. In my dream I’m always trying to follow you but I can’t move.”

“Are you here to apologize? Or are you only trying to get rid of your nightmares?”

“Both.” Kelsey fought against the lump in her throat. “That night…I knew I had to leave, but I’ve felt guilty ever since. I walked out exactly when you needed someone most. But I couldn’t be that someone you were holding onto anymore.”

“We do what we have to do, right?” Hannah didn’t say anything for a long moment. Then she glanced down the hallway behind her. “They don’t usually leave me alone. Sadie or someone is always here if my parents are out for the evening. But tonight it was a charity dinner and everyone had to go, so I’m home without a babysitter. Don’t worry. I’m not feeling suicidal tonight. My mom asked me that before she left. I told her that for future reference, a suicidal person won’t answer yes to that question.” Hannah paused. “They’re freaked out that I’ll try something again. But they are all more worried about how guilty they’d feel afterward than anything else. I think everyone’s tired of trying to save me.” Hannah chuckled. “You should tell them that I can’t be saved. No one tried as hard as you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t go to the hospital with you that night. I’m sorry I put you on a suicide watch and then walked away.” Kelsey stopped. She stared at Hannah. “I’m sorry I gave up.”

Hannah was silent for a long minute. Finally she said, “I don’t blame you.” A smile crossed her face briefly, and then her jaw was set. “Don’t get me wrong, I blamed you for a lot of things after that hospital trip. But not anymore.” She sighed. “I baked cookies tonight. Chocolate chip.”

“You made cookies?”

“The batter was frozen. All I did was turn on the oven. I’m still useless in the kitchen. Some things don’t change.” Hannah paused. “You probably have somewhere better to be on a Friday night but…do you want come in for a cookie?”

It was a quarter after nine. Too early to go to bed on a Friday night. Hannah wasn’t asking to talk about their relationship. Calm Hannah. Kelsey hardly recognized her now. She was too sedate. Maybe she was different finally. Maybe she’d hit bottom, wherever that was for her, and had decided finally to look up. Maybe.

Kelsey didn’t want to go home and Hannah did seem different. And maybe they could really talk—no yelling. Kelsey sighed. It was only a cookie. Yet it didn’t matter how she’d changed. What had happened between them wasn’t going away. She glanced again at her phone. There were no new texts. She wished Joy would respond. As soon as the thought crossed her mind, she knew that she didn’t want to follow Hannah inside. The cookie would only open the door for everything else all over again. “I only came to apologize.”

“Well, I hope your nightmares stop. And I’m sorry I got you wrapped up in my disaster.” Hannah laughed softly. “Have you ever felt like you’ve screwed up in every possible way and there’s no use trying to fix any one thing?”

“It wasn’t all bad.” Kelsey realized there were tears in Hannah’s eyes. Hannah had always cried big crocodile tears and made a production of it with loud sobs. This time there was no sound at all. Maybe it was real, for once. “I’ll take a cookie for the road.”

Hannah rubbed at her eyes and cleared her throat. “You better take more than one. I’m probably going to eat whatever’s left.”

Only the porch lights were on at Joy’s house. Kelsey rang the doorbell and then sat down on the bench outside the door. Kelsey stared at the unanswered text messages, fighting back a wave of anger. It was unreasonable to be upset that Joy wasn’t home tonight. But if she wasn’t back from the San Francisco interview and wasn’t answering her phone, that meant she was with her girlfriend. Kelsey repeated the words in her head. Joy was with her girlfriend. Kelsey leaned against the door. She stared at her phone. There were a half dozen numbers she could call—old girlfriends—who would pick up the line and talk. But Joy’s answering machine was a computer-generated voice. After all the calls and texts that Kelsey hadn’t returned over the past week, she knew there was no reason Joy should pick up the line now.

Kelsey drove up the coast until she reached Trinidad. The only clear plan she had was not going home. She pulled off the highway and wound down the narrow road leading to the beach without any plans for a walk or even getting out of the car. She turned off the radio and sat in the darkness with the windows rolled down enough to hear the waves crash on the rocky shore but still keep out the chill. The fog wasn’t thick. It swirled like mist, and she could still make out the silver ribbon of water lapping along the dark sand. She unzipped her pocket and took out Hannah’s pill vials. She’d never taken valium and Percocet had always made her feel lousy. The doctors had given it to her after the worst of her shoulder injuries, but it didn’t seem to take away the pain. And when she’d taken more of the pills at Hannah’s suggestion, she’d vomited blood. It numbed the rest of her body into a zombified state, and she’d slept for twenty-four hours straight. Hannah swore by oxycontin straight. She crushed it up and snorted it. She insisted that was the best relief. Kelsey couldn’t even watch her snort it. She had to look away. No way would she do that. But she could pop the pills. For her, it was never about being high. It was only about taking away the pain. Hannah couldn’t seem to differentiate between the two.

Both of the vials were perched on the dashboard with the ocean stretching out beyond in a backdrop of dark blues and silvers. She stared at the water until she grew tired of following each wave crest to shore and focused her gaze on the valium. It was easy to open the container. She counted out the remaining pills. Twenty-seven. The small blue tablets rattled against each other in the palm of her hand. She popped one in her mouth and closed her eyes. The bitter taste settled on her tongue. Once that tablet finally dissolved, she popped another, growing used to the bitterness.

Some time passed before she reached for a third pill. She got out of the car as the valium dissolved on her tongue. Her legs felt like rubber. She stumbled over a rock between the parking lot and the start of the trail, regained her balance and headed down the narrow trail to the water. Twice more she stumbled over objects she couldn’t see in the path and her hands were wet with blood from scraping along the brush and the jagged rocks. She stared at the big boulder she’d climbed with Joy and made her way slowly over toward it. The water lapped at the base of the boulder. Water swirled in every direction.

She opened the vial of Percocet first. She dumped the contents into her hand. In one throw, the sea swallowed it. She jammed the empty vial back in her pocket and sank down on the wet sand. She hadn’t told anyone that she’d quit her job. Not even her mom. She didn’t know what she would do next. She wanted Joy to tell her that everything would be fine—that it would all work out—but Joy was leaving for a job in San Francisco. Joy had a girlfriend and a life. Kelsey thought of Hannah, alone, making cookies. But Hannah wasn’t the one she wanted. Kelsey reached for her cell phone, but she didn’t dial Joy again. She had nothing to offer and Joy didn’t need her anyway. Joy was only one more dream that wasn’t meant for her.

She had to start over. Again. There were no stars and no moon. Pockets of fog tricked her eyes into seeing shapes in the mist. Kelsey squinted when the wind picked up. She wasn’t cold but she shivered every few seconds. The fog seemed to close in. Water lapped at her shoes and she eyed the boulder again.

Kelsey took her time with the valium. She had the tablets in her hand once and nearly threw them after the Percocet, but then she put them back in the container and screwed on the lid. Another wave came and went, barely reaching her heels. She counted the valium out of the container once more but lost count at nine. Frustrated, she scattered the tablets on the sand and tried a recount. The tablets blended in with the gravely sand and she picked up more pebbles than valium. She tasted salt when she popped another pill in her mouth. Bits of sand were on her tongue. She heard the next wave coming. Before it reached the shore, she scooped up at least a dozen tablets along with bits of shells and gravel and the sandy mixture jostled into the vial. Kelsey searched for the cap. The wave that came next had taken its time reaching her. It landed with a slap and the vial slipped out of her hand.