“Don’t move over here. I’m not kidding with you.”
The couch was a good one, with down back pillows, probably a hand-me-down from her parents. “I couldn’t get away.” Henry thought about what he had done with his day, an early breakfast at McDonald’s, followed by general wandering around town, a quick trip to the thrift store to paw through their DVDs, and finally two episodes of Murder, She Wrote to round out the afternoon.
“You didn’t work today. I’m not stupid.”
“I’m sorry, Carrie,” Henry said, and he meant it. He’d had every intention of seeing his son, he wanted to, but he couldn’t help but disappoint. He considered that maybe he liked feeling like a failure, but that didn’t seem to be it. He feared he’d feel like a loser whatever he did. “I’m here now, baby,” He said.
“Why did you ignore my calls?” Carrie asked and looked directly into Henry’s eyes. Henry was smart enough to know there was no answer that would suffice for this question.
“I told you to call me. I told you it was an emergency. Didn’t you worry or care? Didn’t you even wonder?”
Henry had finally turned his phone off to avoid talking to Carrie. He couldn’t stand to hear her disappointment. “I’m sorry, baby,” Henry said, and he felt it. If she kept drilling at him he would cave and tell her how sad he was, how his life left him turned inside out, nothing satiated him for long, but any good feeling ran with ferocity out the sieve of his heart, how he couldn’t imagine how he would make it from this year to the next year until he finally didn’t have to worry about it anymore, how the best he could do, or make, or believe gave him so little. Worst of all, he was a grown man, almost a middle aged man and he still didn’t understand what the hell he wanted.
“There is really something wrong with you. I’m so sorry I didn’t see it sooner.” Carrie looked back at the television screen. The actor that would later play Captain Kirk was frantically reading his fortunes from the penny machine. No matter how insignificant every one of them sounded like prophecy.
“I saw your wife,” Carrie said.
“Where?” Henry asked.
Lights flooded the trailer windows. You didn’t venture out there in the sticks, not out as far as Carrie lived, unless you are very lost or on a mission. Henry got up to see and turned on the floodlights outside. “Where did you see her, Carrie?”
“So now you’re interested in talking to me?”
“Did you go to my house?” Henry turned to look at Carrie. His organs were melting, his inner self dissolving into a slime puddle that would eventually ooze out his ears and onto the carpet.
“You expecting somebody Henry? Don’t you dare bring anybody to this house.”
Henry opened the curtains. “Why would I do that? What happened, Carrie! Stop messing with me.”
“I saw her at Walmart.” Carrie stood beside Henry at the window. A car passed by the trailer and was in the process of turning around. “Do not let anybody in this house? Do you hear what I’m saying?” Carrie hated her breaking voice. “What ass comes to somebody’s house at eleven o’clock anyway, besides you?”
“Did you talk to her? Why won’t you just tell me?”
“I tried to tell you. You didn’t care. Who is it?”
Henry studied the car, a new one with good wheels, a flash of metal not plastic rims.
“Is it Ava?” Carrie asked.
“I don’t know,” Henry said irritated. He had not until that moment considered that it might just be Ava. “Looks like just one person.”
The car stopped in the middle of the dirt road. The driver turned his lights off, thought better of it, and turned the headlights back on.
“What’s he doing?” Carrie glanced at the door to her son’s room. If there was danger she could take him out the back to the old people that lived down the road, past the pond. They might not like her, but in an emergency they would take her in.
“Let him wait,” Henry said.
“Who are you talking about?”
Henry stepped out onto the porch with his hands on his hips, tried to look brave. The door opened to the car and the man approached the trailer. “You stay in here,” Henry said to Carrie. “Stay in the house, okay?”
“JJ,” Henry said to the man who just stepped into the floodlight. He hoped he didn’t sound surprised or intimidated. “You better move your car from the road.”
Jay walked back to his car and parked it beside Henry’s in front of the trailer. He stopped on the bottom step of the trailer and looked up at Henry and then Carrie standing on the small porch.
“It’s Jay. You doing okay?” Jay had seen Henry with the curtains open staring out at him. He’d almost lost his nerve and gone back home, but when Henry came onto the porch he couldn’t just leave.
Henry waited just long enough that he hoped Jay would be annoyed.
“It’s late man,” Henry said with as little warmth as he could. Jay hesitated on the bottom stair, unsure if he should come up on the porch. “What you need?” Henry said but he didn’t look over his shoulder at Carrie. She was almost certainly pissed off by now and he wanted to maintain the upper hand with somebody.
“I saw your car,” Jay said.
“Gimme a minute.” Henry turned around and stepped back into the trailer, grabbed his bottle, and walked out onto the small trailer porch.
Jay waited for him on the bottom step.
“How are you?” Jay said to Carrie. She stood in the doorway and stared at him. “Didn’t I see you the other day in Simmy’s?”
Carrie nodded as she crossed her arms over her chest. In the crush of people during the lunch rush, she did remember this quiet man all by himself. He might not have said two words his whole meal.
“I’m Jay Ferguson.” Jay raised his hand in greeting. Carrie did not wave but kept her hand limp and noncommittal.
“He just got here anyway,” she said and tilted her head in Henry’s direction. “Are you the one building the house up the road?”
“Yeah, that’s mine.”
“My parents live near you on High Top. They can probably see your house.”
“I could see over the whole valley.” Jay smiled to Carrie. “That’s what I liked about it from the beginning.”
“Look, man. Visiting hours are over.” Henry tried to make his voice sound easy, but he was annoyed at Carrie and Jay’s conversation.