“I don’t know what I’m supposed to be feeling. It sucks to be wrapped in this crappy mourning period, but whenever I catch myself having a good time, I feel guilty, you know? Like I’m betraying Garrett by enjoying myself. Then I get mad at him for being dead.” He shook his head and took a long gulp of his coffee. “How’s that for sick? It’s been two years. I should be handling things better.”
She surprised herself by saying, “Know what I was doing two years after my sister was kidnapped?” His head swiveled toward her. “I had just started back to school. For a year and a half afterward, I couldn’t leave the house. When I tried, it was like someone stuck a vacuum down my throat and sucked all the air out of my lungs.” She’d felt as though she’d been slowly suffocating. Other times, the tightness in her chest mimicked a heart attack. She’d known that it wasn’t real, that it was her mind making her suffer like that. The helplessness of not being able to control her own brain had been the worst part about it. “I was so medicated sometimes, I felt like a zombie. And even that was preferable to the anxiety attacks. So you’re not doing that bad.”
He looked at her for a long moment. “Thanks for telling me that. You probably don’t talk about it much.”
“I don’t talk about anything much.”
He laughed, and although she hadn’t meant it as a joke, she smiled, too. “Now I have to go punch in. Doris freaks out if we’re not there fifteen minutes early. Thanks for the coffee.”
“Not a problem.” Hand on the door latch, he paused. “Is it okay if I text you sometimes?”
The knot in her chest was back. But it felt different this time. “I guess.”
“Awesome. See you tomorrow.” The door slammed. A moment later, he was in his car, starting it up. Not wanting to be caught staring, Janie put the vehicle in gear. Backed out of the lot and headed for the Dairy Whip.
That had been weird. But a good kind of weird. She waited at the end of the drive for the barely there traffic and then pulled across the street. Janie still wasn’t sure what to think about Cole Bogart. But she was okay with taking some time to find out.
Claire Willard
November 15
1:15 p.m.
“David, lunch is ready.” Claire felt almost normal engrossing herself in daily chores. Normal except for the muzzy-headed feeling that was the result of the pills she’d taken in the middle of the night while David lay sleeping. Two, to banish the endless movie reel of the nightmarish events that had been replaying in her mind since Friday. She’d needed the pills to shake the mental image of Kelsey drifting above her, condemnation in her eyes.
I was just trying to protect you, Claire told her daughter silently. I didn’t want the police to see you that way. To think about you like that. You made a mistake. Acted out. I covered the best that I could.
The mental picture faded, but the regret didn’t. It had been weak to fall back on the medication when Janie had powered through her anxiety Friday night while refusing it. Claire could be proud of her daughter while admitting to herself that she didn’t have Janie’s emotional fortitude. Or her brains, for coming up with a plan that would have the police certain to check Kelsey’s connection to the photographer, without exposing Claire’s part in destroying the pictures. She should be ashamed that her youngest daughter had seen through her lie. But she lacked the will to feel anything but a weary sort of gratitude.
“When did this come?” David came into the kitchen, waving a fat envelope. “Why didn’t you give it to Janie?”
Claire turned from the counter, two plates in her hand. She nearly dropped them when she recognized what he held.
“It’s from Stanford.” He grinned, clearly delighted. “Janie’s going to be over the moon.” He tested the envelope between two fingers. “Thick. This isn’t a polite rejection letter. She’s in. Wonder what kind of deal they’re offering her.”
Swallowing hard, Claire forced her feet to continue to the table. She carefully set down the full plates and returned to the counter for the tea she’d prepared for herself. Coffee, of course, for David. “Umm . . . I think it was Friday?” She pretended to be unsure. As if the arrival of the letter hadn’t rocked her back on her heels. It had dread pounding through her until that call from the sheriff’s office had wiped everything else from her mind. She’d convinced herself that this day wouldn’t come. Had spun an elaborate fantasy that the prestigious university would have no interest in her daughter’s SATs with the stratospheric science and math scores, her long list of AP classes, and perfect grades. That had been a far easier fabrication to believe than the one she had: that seeing the letter wouldn’t cement Janie’s college decision.
The thought of her daughter being halfway across the country less than a year from now had her throat drying out, a familiar panic spreading through her.
“I found it in the drawer of the hallway table, when I was looking for a different garage-door opener.” David went to the refrigerator and attached the letter to a magnetic clip where Janie would be certain to see it, since the fridge was the first place she headed to upon arriving home. “I don’t know why you would have put it there.” He turned then, and catching sight of her expression, his gaze turned shrewd. “Claire, you weren’t trying to hide this from her, were you?”
“Honestly, David, of course not.” She sat down and spread her napkin on her lap. “I don’t even recall putting it away. The phone must have rung when I brought in the mail, and I shoved it in there absentmindedly and forgot about it. Janie didn’t come home after school, remember? With everything else that happened that night, it completely slipped my mind.”
He took a seat, reaching for his coffee. “Well, I know you haven’t wanted to think about her choosing Stanford over OSU. But we have to consider what’s best for her future. It’s probably time to make an appointment with that counselor, Rimble. She can help us evaluate the best college offers as they come in. Not that Janie will need to consider finances first and foremost.” He set down his cup and picked up the ham sandwich she’d fixed. “We have plenty in her college account to afford wherever she chooses, even if the package is stingy.”
Of course they did. Claire nibbled at the edge of her sandwich. For the first time, she almost resented the lifestyle David’s success afforded them. Although Janie’s academic résumé alone would be strong enough for her to snare the interest of most universities.