Point Hope (7 page)

“Why don’t you guys clear out?” Trey said, standing. “Your mom and I need some quiet time.”

The kids threw pouty looks before they left. Even Alex and Summer followed them out. Rosette didn’t want quiet. She wanted them all together, but Trey was in a sour mood. She held the baby close, hoping she wouldn’t pick up the tension in the family.

Hope.

It wasn’t a bad name at all.

When the kids were gone, Trey flew out the front door, leaving too. 
I just need a couple minutes. Just a couple minutes.

Rosette was left standing in the middle of the room, staring after him.

Why did he tell the kids to leave if he wasn’t staying? But that’s what he always did. There were long periods in their marriage when he was overseas, but that was his career. He was in the Navy when she’d married him, after all. Still, he wasn’t there for her when she’d had so many problems in her first pregnancy, or in her second, or when she’d miscarried her third pregnancy. That third pregnancy had been a surprise. When she’d had the miscarriage, he said, “That takes care of that.” He didn’t even stay home from work that day. He just didn’t have a clue how hard it was on her. And of course she’d responded in her typical way—flawed, too, because she’d shut down and built a wall to protect herself. She could see that now, but she still couldn’t do anything about it. There was just too much anger gluing all those bricks together.

He was home sometimes, but he wasn’t there emotionally, especially after he was injured.

They’d fought in their early days, but it was so much different. She’d get mad at him and untune his guitar by loosening the strings. Stupid little things like that. She would want her way about something—going to Portland for a trip instead of Eastern Oregon, or a getting an Outback station wagon instead of that black Toyota he’d wanted to buy.

She looked down at the baby—at Hope. She was puckering her mouth in her sleep like she was nursing.

Oh, why did Amanda have to die?

Chapter Six

The baby cried for an hour straight that evening, and there wasn’t anything Trey could do about it. He’d rocked her, Rosette had held her, Summer had sung to her, and Alex even had tried. This wasn’t a happy homecoming for Hope. Candice and Jake were cranky and acting up, and who could blame them? Everything felt off.

The entire situation wasn’t what anyone would dream about for bringing a new baby home, come to think of it. Rosette had eventually taken the baby upstairs to calm her down, but Trey could still hear her crying. He looked into the bedroom and saw Rosette walking with the baby bundled in a blanket in her arms, rocking and singing to her. If she was at the end of her rope, she didn’t show it. But that was Rosette.

He had just asked Alex to heat up another premade dinner. For the last hour, Alex had been keeping the kids occupied at the table playing Candy Land.

He felt invisible. Strangers had brought their food. Alex was taking care of the kids, and Rosette was busy with Hope.

Wasn’t it ironic that he saved people for a job, but no one really needed him around here?

Rosette glanced toward the bedroom door and noticed him. “Hey, we need to talk.”

He stepped into the room. They’d put this talk off for a while now.

“I’m not sure how to handle this.” She kept rocking the baby, who continued to softly whimper in her state of half sleep. He simply waited so she said, “The sleeping arrangements. You have to help tonight so I can get some sleep.” She turned her body, and he followed her gaze over to the crib, changing table, and supplies. Everything was set up in here.

This wasn’t at all the talk he’d expected. “I can sleep in here and get up with her tonight.” He took another step into the room, feeling out of place, but wanting to put her at ease. Since they’d decided to separate, he had barely ventured into this room, unless she wasn’t in it. He’d been sleeping on the couch and using the downstairs bathroom.

They
were
separated, but no one else knew about it. They were living in the same house, raising the kids together, but there was no “them.”

She slowly nodded, looking at the bed. He knew her too well. She couldn’t sleep on the couch, or anywhere besides her own bed, very well. When they took a trip, she always took a sleeping pill to get to sleep in a strange bed.

Standing closer, he saw the dark circles under her eyes and a worry line between her eyebrows. She still looked twenty-five, but that line always came out when she got worried. Rosette had some kind of anti-aging cream hidden in her dresser that she used for it, but he pretended he didn’t know.

She was battling herself, debating whether to say anything. He hurt for her and said, “You know, we’re adults. I’ll be up and down anyway, so it’s perfectly fine if you want to sleep in here too. If it becomes a problem, I’ll pull out the sleeping pad.”

It was a long foam pad they kept under the bed. He used to have night terrors, flashbacks in his sleep, and he’d jump out of bed yelling. The soft bed had bothered his sleep too, after sleeping on a hard military bed for so long. He’d kept the pad around to sleep on when he became too restless for the bed. Rosette nodded, which might have been an agreement, but one that she wasn’t completely happy about. He couldn’t be sure. It’d gotten hard to read her lately.

Hope was quiet now.

“Do you want me to take her?” he asked.

“Maybe she’ll lie down.” Rosette gently laid Hope down in the crib. The blanket was still wrapped around her, the way Rosette had wrapped up Candice and Jake when they were tiny. She had told him babies liked it because it reminded them of being snuggled into their mother’s womb.

Hope hardly reacted to being laid down. Rosette straightened and watched her a minute, and then turned her attention to the bed. “I’m lying down too.”

He reached over to the baby monitor by the crib and switched it on. They had the speaker downstairs in the kitchen, he remembered. He leaned toward Rosette to kiss her forehead but caught himself. She was so exhausted she didn’t seem to notice.

He turned off the light and closed the door on his way out.

Rosette waited until she heard Trey go down the stairs before she released her breath and let herself cry. She wasn’t ready for this. She couldn’t handle a crying baby, two fighting kids downstairs, and a husband who didn’t want to be here. What had she been thinking? She couldn’t believe Trey did this to her.

A piercing headache had tapped away behind her right eye all day. Her stomach was unsettled and her body was aching like she was fighting off the flu, but she knew it was stress and lack of sleep.

She wanted a hot bath and a glass of white wine, but she was too tired to even think about getting back up.

Trey felt awkward throughout dinner with Summer there and Rosette gone, but Alex got the kids talking. That covered for Trey and Summer both being quiet. He didn’t have a read on her, either. She’d been a troublemaker, but now she was just quiet. And apparently living with them for the time being. He didn’t feel like talking to her about it any time soon, not when she looked like she was still in shock over her sister’s death, and not when he had no idea what would happen with his family.

Neither Rosette nor Hope woke up during dinner or while he bathed the kids and put them to bed. Summer slipped back out to the fifth wheel trailer parked alongside the garage, which was basically functioning as her apartment. Alex went out with his friend TJ, who had gotten his license two months ago, so they were enjoying their newfound freedom and mobility. Alex would get his license soon; he had a car ready now. Trey had helped him restore an older race car, but it was actually Alex who knew more about engines.

Trey went upstairs and entered the bedroom quietly. He undressed and slipped under the covers, feeling very much like he’d snuck into the girls’ dorm room. It wasn’t his bed anymore.

How would this work? What if rolled over in his sleep and wrapped himself around her?

Suddenly he wanted her so badly he almost got back out of the bed. Instead he lay there, stiff like a mummy, listening to Rosette breathe. She wasn’t snoring, but it was her deep sleep breathing. Either she’d taken a pill or she was so exhausted nothing would wake her.

That relaxed him enough to close his eyes and let go of the tension all through his body.

Suddenly hot, shredded metal was searing into him.

Trey woke up standing next to the bed, sucking air and shaking. It’d felt real—with real shrapnel suddenly hitting him out of nowhere. It wasn’t like a dream with any context, just a vivid, horrifying experience.

He sat on the edge of the bed, catching his breath, just then noticing that Hope had slept through it. Somehow he hadn’t screamed this time.

Turning, he could see the shape of Rosette lying on her side. Maybe he’d gotten lucky and hadn’t awakened her either. He lay down again and stared up into the darkness, wanting to reach over and touch his wife.

~  ~ ~

The food had poured into their house over the last few days. Alex knew the routine from Ricky’s death. He met people, took their casserole, and tried to fit it into the fridge. If it came in a disposable dish, he stuck it in the freezer. Other people brought groceries that could go into the cupboards. He had just put one of the casseroles in the oven now so he could feed Candice and Jake lunch in an hour.

He grabbed another plate, rinsed it, and stuck it in the dishwasher. It made a rhythm. Grab, rinse, place. Grab, rinse…

He didn’t mind doing the housework. It took less thinking than doing make-up work from school. He’d missed the entire week, but no one said a word about it or told him he should have gone. Mr. Craven had brought all his work over two hours ago, promptly at nine a.m. as promised, and said Alex would get full credit if he turned everything in after spring break. That gave him the weekend and an entire week to do it. Maybe after the weekend he would be able to think about it.

A weak moment came and went with just one shaky breath. Spring break. His sixteenth birthday. He’d been counting it down for months, and now it was shot all to hell.

He poured in the dishwasher soap and snapped the door shut. It didn’t bother him to help out. But it felt like things could fall apart at any moment.

The kids were upstairs for now, and Trey and Rosette were in the living room with Summer and Angel. Summer was mostly hanging around without saying much. There’d been other people too, but they left just a few minutes ago. It looked like Trey was doing okay with everyone coming and going. Actually, that usually didn’t bother him much. It was seeing blood and hurt people, so Alex had no idea why Trey still worked as an EMT. It was the exact thing that triggered his flashbacks—if he had to respond to an accident and people were bleeding. Then he’d take a few days or a week off and close himself in his room, or go for walks on the beach for hours at a time.

What would have happened if Trey had been working that night and had responded to Amanda’s wreck?

Alex looked out the window and saw Leena coming over from next door, a tray of food in her hands. The kitchen had two sets of big French doors, one that opened to the side of the house where Leena approached, and the other leading to the backyard. The back French doors had always been there, but Rosette had Trey add the second set. She loved light and said she needed a lot of brightness coming in to combat the rainy weather.

He opened the side doors for Leena. The tray held cookies.

“They’re still warm. I thought you and the kids might like them. Plus they’re Trey’s favorite kind.”

“Thanks. I’ll let them have a couple after they eat.” The timer went off as he spoke. He set the cookies on the counter and took the green bean casserole out of the oven.

“How’s everyone handling this?” She leaned against the counter. “It’s gotta be so hard, after everything. I wish I could do more.”

“Thanks.” He liked how Leena talked to him like they were peers. Sometimes she even flirted with him. She’d moved into the house next door with a boyfriend, but they split up about six months later. Leena didn’t move out after that. The place had to expensive to rent, but she’d mentioned that her dad owned Micky’s Motors downtown and paid her rent.

“Want to see the baby?” He led her into the living room; then he continued to the bottom of the stairs. “Candy Cane! Jakey! Lunch!”

He turned to see Leena leaning over and cooing at the baby.

He took the kids into the kitchen to eat but happened to glance back. Leena was kneeling in front of Rosette to see the baby but was staring up at Trey. Something about it made him do a double take.

Chapter Seven

It was Friday afternoon. Sarah felt like she’d been holding her breath all week, waiting for the other shoe to drop. She parked her car about a half mile from the Sinclair’s house, so it’d look like she was going to the beach. A light rain fell, but she started out anyway. Her raincoat would probably keep her dry. She didn’t really care one way or the other.

Sarah walked down the street, pausing across from the house. Neighbors had left roses and small crosses on the lawn. Amanda’s house was probably worse.

She didn’t think anyone would notice her standing here. She always thought of herself as Sarah Plain and Tall. That was a movie title from something she’d watched as a kid. It had been a few years old even then, and set back in the Western frontier, if she remembered right. The movie portrayed a man who was widowed and needed a new mom for his children. He found a woman who’d written a letter to him and described herself as plain and tall.

That was Sarah. She wasn’t ugly, simply unmemorable. She had never done much of anything to be noticed by anyone—until now.

It was clear the house was occupied, but no one came outside. She just wanted one tiny glimpse of the baby, but it was too dangerous. If she stuck around long, someone might notice her and ask questions.