The Murder Rule

Sunday, August 14, 1994, 10:00 a.m.

It’s been two weeks since Tom and I first slept together, and since then we haven’t spent a night apart. Despite the fact that he has that big house and about five bedrooms to choose from, we mostly stay in my little single bed. I don’t like being at the house with Mike, so I avoid it as much as possible. He won’t leave us alone, won’t give us any space; he’s always there, with his fake bright smile and his barbed comments. He wants to go home to Virginia, but Tom is dragging things out, staying until the last possible minute, and the longer it goes on, the meaner Mike becomes. He just about keeps a lid on things when Tom is in the room, but if Tom leaves me for a minute, even to go to the bathroom, Mike steps things up. The other night he got aggressive, stood too close to me, breathed in my face until I stepped back. I tried to laugh it off and Tom came back before anything else could happen, but I swear I felt like Mike would have hit me, if we’d been alone. There’s something real y off about that guy. He scares me. We’re staying in the house tonight, though, and I think for once Mike wil be happy. He’s got nothing to be angry about anymore. They’re leaving for Virginia tomorrow.

It’s not like Tom and I have a future. I’m not stupid. But this is so much harder than I was expecting.

Sunday, August 14, 1994, 9:00 p.m.

I’m back. At the hotel I mean. It’s stil Sunday but I’m back and so much has happened that I have to write about it right now. I biked up to the house right after work and let myself in. I had to take my bike because I was going to need it—Tom was going to leave tomorrow on the boat, and we were planning to say goodbye at the house. The front door is never locked and I just didn’t think about it. I opened the door and cal ed out a hel o and no one answered me. They were too busy fighting to hear me.

If I close my eyes I’m back there, standing in the main hal way, kind of frozen in place. I don’t know whether I should let them know I’m there, or just sneak out, or what. I can hear Mike—loud and angry—and Tom, he’s quieter, but I can stil hear every word he says. They’re fighting about the fact that Tom doesn’t want to go back to Virginia. He’s going to stay for another two weeks. Mike is raging because it’s move-in day at UVA in just over a week, which gives them just enough time to sail back. When I realize that Tom wants to stay I nearly explode in excitement, but then Mike keeps arguing and arguing and I think that Tom wil just give in. But he doesn’t! He’s cool as anything.

“I’ve spoken to my father and he’s arranged for a crew to pick up the boat next week.”

“I can take the boat back alone, as I’ve said. It’s perfectly safe to sail solo. I took it to Blacks Harbour, for God’s sake.”

“That was probably not such a good idea,” Tom says. “And the sail home is much longer. Too long for one person.”

“Christ, Tom. Can you try not to be so . . . Look, there’s no need, that’s al I’m saying. I’m happy to sail the boat myself.”

Tom says no. He says it’s not safe to sail solo overnight. He says his classes start on the thirtieth and he’s planning on flying back the day before, but he’s happy to arrange a flight for Mike now, if he wants to get back.

“I’l cal a friend,” Mike sounds almost desperate. “How about that? I’l cal a friend to sail back with me so that there’re two guys for the journey. Someone with lots of experience.”

There’s a moment’s silence. And then Tom says, “No. I’m sorry, Mike. But the answer’s no.”

A moment later Mike blasts past me through the hal . I have been feeling almost sorry for him, but the look he gives me is so ful of anger and violence that I take a step back. He hisses at me, “I hope you’re satisfied, you dumb bitch. You don’t know what you’ve done.”

And then he is gone.

Tom finds me. He takes me by the hand and leads me to the front of the house where he hugs me and tel s me everything is going to be okay.

I hug him back and say, “I know that, stupid,” and what was al this about him staying. I half-expect Tom to flush and stutter and ask if I am okay with it but there is none of that. He just looks at me steadily and said he isn’t ready to walk away from us. That he thinks there is something real here, and he’d like to spend more time together. I am the one who flushes and stammers, like a fool. I am the one who gets tears in my eyes. And then he tel s me he loves me and I tel him I love him too and then I start crying and for some reason it’s real y hard to stop. He just hugs me. He doesn’t want me staying in the house when Mike is so pissed, so he drove me straight back to the hotel. He’s going to pick me up tomorrow once Mike’s gone to the airport. I’m so glad Mike’s going. He’s toxic to be around.

And now Tom and I get two ful weeks together. I’m going to beg Rosa to give me some time off. I can’t real y afford to take time off work, but I’l figure something out.

I trust Tom more than I’ve trusted anyone since my mother died.

And I know he’s a good person. I love him. I think I can be better with him. That’s a lot to start with, right? And now he’s going to stay so we can find out what else there could be. And I’m so, so happy.





Hannah

SIX

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 28, 2019

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