He focused on the camera, and it was as if he was in the room, making eye contact from beyond the grave. “I was thinking the other day about Cousin Rose. Remember her?”
For a moment I couldn’t grasp what he was saying, who he was talking about. I didn’t have any cousins. All my relatives were dead. But then I understood. This was how he was going to lock me away forever, one way or another.
“I know you remember what happened to her, and you know why it happened to her. You don’t have to be like her, not if you marry Randy. If you don’t . . .” Dad held up a brown manila envelope to the camera. “I’ve given this sealed envelope to Keith Dooley.”
Mr. Dooley mirrored Dad’s movements, raising the envelope in the air like a magician’s assistant displaying the trick saw box. He pointed to the wax seal over the flap.
“If you don’t marry Randy, Keith will open the envelope and then . . . you know what will happen. I don’t want that to happen, and you don’t either,” Dad said.
So even if I refused the money, I’d still be trapped. He’d thought of everything.
“But I know it won’t come to that,” he continued. “I have faith in you, Petty. I know you’ll do the right thing. I’ve instructed Keith to burn the envelope if you go through with the marriage. This is the only copy, so no one will ever know what’s in it. Of course, I’m hoping you’ll never actually see this video, or by the time you do, you’re in your seventies and it doesn’t matter anymore. I love you, Petty.”
The screen went black.
He didn’t love me. He was transferring title, that was all. He’d spent my life teaching me to defend myself, to fight, and for what? Just to be locked away again. Forever.
I couldn’t get a full breath, it was as if there were a cork in my throat.
I had a brief thought of slicing Randy and Mr. Dooley to bacon strips with my blade, allowed myself to imagine the blood spatter, but it only made me feel better for a moment. I knew my life was over now.
I started making the same sounds the dogs made when they were about to yak.
“You’re not going to howl again, are you?” Randy said.
“Are you all right?” Mr. Dooley asked.
My stomach convulsed, forcing more embarrassing sounds from my mouth.
“Give her a paper bag or something, Dooley, will you?” Randy said, scooting his chair farther from mine. The way he said this let me know that it wasn’t out of concern for me but out of concern for his boots.
I heard Mr. Dooley clear his throat again. “Petty,” he said, “I know this is a lot to take in.”
Randy tapped his fingers on his cowboy hat brim, and the sound magnified in my ears. I slumped forward and put my head in my hands. There was no movement in the room, only the sound of Randy’s tapping fingers. He must have noticed it too because he stopped it.
“Do you know what’s in that envelope?” Randy asked Mr. Dooley.
“Nope,” Mr. Dooley said, holding up his hands. “And I don’t want to know.” He glanced at his watch again. “I’m not trying to throw you out, but my next appointment will be here soon, so . . .”
“We’ll get out of your hair,” Randy said to him and stood.
“Could you drive me home, Mr. Dooley?” I whispered.
Mr. Dooley’s face reddened. “I’m sorry. I can’t. Randy will drive you.”
I hissed at Randy like an old barn cat. Both men started a little and glanced at each other.
The effort of not crying made my head feel like it was expanding, filling the room.
“Randy, would you wait outside for a minute? I want to have a word with Petty.”
Randy gave me a glance, pressed his hat down on his head and went out the door.
Mr. Dooley squatted down next to my chair but he didn’t touch me. He seemed to know better. “Petty. This probably seems . . . wrong to you. But your dad had his reasons, and I believe he had your best interests at heart.”
Was this supposed to make me feel better?
“Your dad knew what he was doing. He’s right about Randy. Randy’s a good man. You can trust him. He’ll take care of you. And you wouldn’t believe how many men die without giving any thought at all to what their families will do. Your dad provided for you in an unbelievably generous way. You should count yourself lucky. Now, listen. You really embarrassed yourself there. You need to do what you can to make it up to Randy, you really do. You need to apologize and be sweet to him.”
That was not going to happen. Over his dead body. Or mine.
I still didn’t move, and I could feel his frustration mounting.
“You’ll see, Petty. Everything’s going to be okay. It’ll all work out.”
He touched my chair and I understood I was to stand and walk out the front door and into Randy’s pickup truck. Which I did. I had brain freeze because I couldn’t let myself think about what had just happened.