The Promised World (30 page)

But she knew she deserved all this horrible crap that was happening. Every day that went by, she thought of another reason why she’d been an idiot. Even her mom hadn’t approved of her letting Kyle move in so soon after Billy had moved out—hell, her mom hadn’t approved of Kyle, period. “You need to work this out with your husband,” her mom had said. “Bringing in some loser now is just stupid, and you ain’t stupid, are you, Ashley?”

As it turned out, yeah, she was. She was stupid enough to think a man who was nice to her had to be a decent guy. She was stupid enough to think that if she separated from Billy, she would be free from the damn curse or the shit luck or whatever it was that had messed up her whole life. And she was stupid, for sure, to think that any guy could come in and make her forget about Billy.

By the time the weekend rolled around, another weekend without her kids, she was reduced to spending most of her time in bed. She and Billy had bought this bed years ago, before William was born, on one of those days when Billy woke up normal,
better than normal, really: Ashley remembered him telling her some quote that he translated to mean he was thrilled just to be alive. He spent more than an hour picking out the perfect quilt for their new queen-size bed. He said he wanted a pattern that said “permanence” and “family.” “We might have this forever, Ash. Think of that. This quilt could literally be the fabric of our memories.”

She’d put the quilt away when Kyle moved in, but on Sunday morning, she got it back out. That night, she was lying in a fetal position, using her finger to trace the quilt’s rich gold and green rings, tan and pink squares, and center orange stars. That she was also talking to her dead husband was weird and she knew it, but she no longer cared how weird she was, except when she was being inspected by Mrs. Pritzel or one of the others from CPS.

She’d believed in angels since her grandma died when she was a little girl. Her mom had told her Grandma was an angel, and it made sense to Ashley since Grandma had been so gentle, almost like an angel when she was alive. Her mom also said you could pray to angels to talk to God for you, and so she decided to pray to Grandma, because Grandma already knew her and would understand what Ashley meant.

If Billy was in heaven, he might be an angel, too. Her priest had told her the old rule wasn’t true anymore—that someone couldn’t be in heaven if they killed themselves and didn’t receive the last rites. God is love, the priest said. God is forgiveness. If your husband was sorry for his sins, the priest said, that was what mattered—and Ashley knew Billy was sorry because he’d told her so.

When he’d called, it was a Tuesday night in March, a little after eight o’clock; Ashley was trying to finish the dishes and trying to keep Maisie from falling apart before she could get her in the bathtub. Kyle was watching some sports thing on TV. William had his boom box blasting upstairs, and Pearl was freaking out about a book she couldn’t find that she needed for a homework paper.

They’d been fighting for so long she didn’t know how to talk to Billy without yelling, but this time he didn’t give her a chance to say her usual “Dammit, why are you calling here?” or “What the hell do you want?” As soon as she said hello, he said, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” She turned off the faucet and wished she had something that would record his answer. The cops had said to let them know immediately if her estranged husband said anything new about what had happened with William. They’d already arranged to have Billy charged with seven counts of child endangerment, but that number could always be increased.

“Everything,” he said. “What I’ve done to our family. And to you.”

She was surprised, but she didn’t buy it for a minute. Was he trying to soften her up to help his case? It wouldn’t work, that was for sure.

Pearl was going through the giant stack of papers on the counter, still looking for that book. Ashley turned to her. “Take Maisie upstairs.” The little girl was tearing apart a plastic sponge and screaming that she wanted to watch cartoons. “Run her bath and keep an eye on her.”

“Mom, I have homework!”

“Just do what I told you to do!”

Pearl picked up Maisie, but she gave her mother a dirty look. Nothing new there. Ashley expected Billy to give her shit about the yelling he must have overheard, but he didn’t call her a barbarian or any of his usual put-downs. He didn’t say anything other than repeat that he was sorry.

“I never became the man I wanted to be.” He sounded incredibly sad; Ashley could hear that now that she was alone in the kitchen. “I just couldn’t escape.”

“Are you talking about the curse? ‘Cause I don’t believe in that
anymore.” She’d told him this several times during their fights, but he never listened.

“No, Ash. I’m talking about myself.”

He hadn’t called her “Ash” for months and months, maybe even a year. She slumped down at the table and started picking at a juice stain with her fingernail. She wasn’t sure what he meant by escaping himself, but she couldn’t help it; she felt sorry for him and blurted out that he could still get his life together. “You’ll probably have to see a shrink to figure out why you did all that dangerous crap with William. The cops told me that’s the first step, and it won’t—”

“It’s too late. I’ve been this way since I was William’s age. I never had enough courage.”

“What do you mean?” Her voice rose, thinking about all the shit he’d made William do, shit her son still believed showed he was brave. She wished Kyle would talk to William and convince him that jumping off cliffs wasn’t brave, it was dumb. She hoped maybe Kyle could make her son understand that being a man was about more than taking stupid risks with your life.

“I never had the courage to do what was right.” Billy paused. “I still don’t. I’m sorry.”

Upstairs, Maisie was screaming like Pearl was drowning her. Kyle’s sports show and William’s boom box were still going strong. It was way too loud for her to figure out why Billy was telling her all this. She said she had to go now, and before she could offer to call him back later, he was already gone. So she’d walked away feeling like a fool because he’d hung up on her without even saying good-bye.

But now, lying under the quilt, talking to angel Billy, Ashley hoped he would ask God to forgive her for not paying better attention to her husband’s cry for help. “You know I’m not that smart,” Ashley said. “I just didn’t put two and two together.”

How many times had Billy told her that if he knew he was immoral and he couldn’t change, he’d kill himself? More than a few. And yet she really hadn’t understood that that was what he was saying that night, which turned out to be the last night of his life. Maybe she still wouldn’t have figured this out if she hadn’t had so much time on her hands without the kids. Then she could have lived forever without feeling like God was punishing her for not trying harder to stop her children’s father from committing suicide.

It was like an eye for an eye. The kids had lost Billy, the most important person to them—at least the most important to Pearl and William—and Ashley had lost the kids, the most important people to her. She knew she deserved this, but she hoped Billy could fix it. “If not for my sake,” she prayed, “for theirs. They didn’t do anything wrong. Does God want to punish them, too? Why?”

She traced another ring in the quilt, wondering if the kids felt like they were being punished. What if Pearl and William were actually better off with their grandma? She was rich; she probably had a big house and all kinds of cool stuff. Maybe they were having the time of their lives and that was why they hadn’t bothered to call her.

Billy had never said anything bad about his mother, and he wouldn’t tell her what was going on now at Barbara Duval’s house. She didn’t expect him to; she wasn’t crazy; she knew prayers weren’t answered like telephones. He couldn’t tell her how the kids were, and he couldn’t make her feel better when she got paranoid that somehow Barbara Duval was going to trick her and try to get custody of her kids. She’d only gone along with Barbara Duval’s plan because she’d heard foster care was awful and Pearl and William had to stay somewhere. They weren’t close to any of their teachers like Maisie was with the head of her preschool. Ashley’s own family wasn’t in the state. The only choice other than Billy’s mom would
have been Lila and Patrick, and the court would never have gone for that after what Lila did, even if Ashley had asked them to.

It was probably dumb to be afraid that Barbara Duval was scheming against her, but Ashley had time for all kinds of dumb fears. She had time to think about each and every nightmare: from the one where William was screaming for her and she couldn’t find him, to the one where Kyle had kidnapped Pearl and was torturing her for lying.

Talking to Billy, even if he wasn’t an angel, was the only way she could calm herself down. He’d always cared about the kids, too; she knew that even when he was acting too crazy to be allowed to see them. Now that he was dead, she imagined him forever his best self, and she wished he were there to help her figure this out.

When the doorbell rang, for one stupid second she imagined her wish had come true. Or maybe it was the kids themselves? It was almost ten o’clock on Sunday night; no one from CPS and no neighbor would come over this late. No one she knew from work or any of her friends would come over without calling.

She grabbed the baseball bat under her bed when it hit her that it had to be Kyle. Sure he’d left town, but what if he was back? As she crept into the dark living room, she thought about calling the police, but she was worried that would make it worse for her somehow. Kyle could tell them she invited him here. He could lie about anything and that dumb detective might think she didn’t care about protecting her kid.

At the front door, she checked the chain to see if it was on tight; then she slowly opened the door a crack and yelled, “I’m calling the cops if you don’t leave right now.”

“We just want to talk.” It was her sister-in-law.

“But we’re going,” Patrick said. “No need to call the police.”

She was so relieved that she took the chain off and opened the door before she thought about whether she wanted those two in
her house. Then she stood back when she realized that, as pathetic as it seemed, she was dying to hear any voice but her own.

But when she realized why they were there, she immediately regretted having let them in and insisting on making them hot chocolate. She was trying to be nice; Patrick was rubbing his hands together, and Lila’s bare arms had goose bumps, and no wonder, as it had dropped almost thirty degrees in the last few hours, a freak cold snap in the middle of May that had obviously caught Patrick and Lila by surprise—and without jackets or even long sleeves. Yet as soon as she set the steaming mugs in front of them, they made it clear that they hadn’t come to see her at all; they only wanted Billy’s papers from the basement. She told them the truth, that she’d promised Pearl she could have all of that. And when Lila said she’d give everything back in a few days, Ashley snorted. “I’m not as stupid as you think. How would I know you didn’t keep the best stuff?” She shook her head. “Let’s just wait for Pearl to get back. If she says she doesn’t mind, it’s okay by me.”

“Can’t you call her?” Patrick said. “Ask her how she feels?”

“Not without checking with my caseworker first.” Ashley gave him a long look and he lowered his eyes.

“We can wait until tomorrow,” Lila said. Her voice was always soft, but there was something else in it now, too, something pitiful. “Before we leave, though, could you at least tell us where the kids are? I’m really worried about them.”

“I told you they’re fine,” she said, turning back to Patrick. “Nothing to worry about.”

It was one of Barbara Duval’s conditions for taking the kids and paying Ashley’s legal fees: Ashley was not to discuss any of this with Lila or her husband. Billy’s mother said she and Lila hadn’t spoken for years and it was none of Lila’s business. She also hinted that Lila would be very upset to learn that any of Barbara’s money was going to Ashley and her children rather than to Lila herself. At the time,
Ashley had found this strange, because she’d always thought Lila never cared much about material things, but she’d decided not to question it. She would never have believed that Patrick would tell the cops she was an unfit mother, either. There were probably a lot of things she didn’t know about her sister- and brother-in-law.

“If you don’t want to tell me because you’re afraid I’ll try to visit them, I promise you I won’t.” Lila wrapped her arms around herself. “I no longer think I would be a good influence on them. I did a horrible thing… a very selfish thing.” She lowered her eyes. “I wish it weren’t true, but it seems you were right to try to keep them away from me.”

Ashley was both surprised and really impressed that her sister-in-law had admitted this, especially since Lila knew that Ashley had obviously done a crap job of protecting her kids when it came to Kyle. Was it possible that Lila wasn’t judging her for that?

“Well, we all make mistakes,” she offered. “Me as much as anybody, I guess.” She took a sip of her hot chocolate and waited to see if Patrick or Lila would jump on the chance to bitch about Ashley’s screwups. When they didn’t—and her sister-in-law’s lips were quivering like she might cry—she said, “Hell, Lila, you know I don’t know what I’m doing. I mean, look at me. I’ve been wearing this same pair of jeans and this same T-shirt since Friday night.” She smirked. “I haven’t even showered or combed my hair ‘cause I’m too busy praying to your brother.”

“I talk to Billy, too,” Lila whispered. “In the hospital, I woke myself up more than once speaking to him.”

Patrick crossed his arms. He looked like he wanted to say something, but didn’t. He probably thought all this talking to Billy stuff was a crock, and maybe it was, but it still made Ashley feel much closer to her sister-in-law. Certainly a hell of a lot closer than she felt to Billy’s mother, who, come to think of it, had never even said she missed her dead son. Of course, Lila and Billy had both treated
Barbara Duval like she was already dead. Barbara said they’d had a “falling out,” but Ashley wondered what kind of family feud could possibly end up like that.