by Suzie Carr
Then, Jacky was walking beside Brooke and Bee when she spotted a patch of overgrown grass. A four-leaf clover stuck out from the long blades. It stood taller and prouder than the other clovers, as if it wanted to be found. She bent down and touched her fingers to it. “Drew had spent her entire life seeking a four-leaf clover, and here one grows at our feet.”
Brooke cradled her hand on her shoulder. “That’s her way of telling you she’s still with you.”
Tears welled up as Drew’s warmth still passed through her. She plucked it up and stared at it. “Many years ago, Drew read The Power by Rhonda Byrne. It instructed her to select something personal and memorable that would serve as a sign that personal power did lay within her. It had to be something unique that she would recognize right away as her sign. A four-leaf clover popped into her mind first. But, she squashed that idea right away. She didn’t believe she’d ever see one. She worried she’d spend the rest of her life without her personal power. So, she decided a rainbow would be her sign. Surely, she’d find a rainbow at some point and be able to say that she did in fact have that power Rhonda talked about. Well, we drove through storm after storm seeking a freaking rainbow for an entire summer. Not one.”
“Not one?”
“Nope.” Jacky rose to her feet, and twirled the clover. “She felt doomed. Of course, keep in mind, up to that point she never told me about her initial clover choice. I just knew about the rainbow. So this one day a client comes in and hands me this laminated four-leaf clover and says to me, I found this on a walk and I laminated it. I keep it in my wallet, and just now, something’s telling me to hand it over to you, to pass it on. So I take it from her, thank her, and chuckle at the weirdness. I go home later and I pull out the laminated clover and hand it to Drew, laughing about the weird client. Well, her eyes doubled in size and she started to cry and shake. The universe found a way of giving her a sign.”
“Through you no less.”
Hmm. “Yeah, I suppose so.”
~ ~
The next night, with Sophie hanging out at Ashley’s house, Jacky called Marie and asked her to come over for moral support. She would call Verizon and transfer the account to her own name, then cancel Drew’s cellphone service.
She arrived with a six-pack of Angry Orchard Hard Cider.
Jacky walked over to her laptop sitting on the kitchen table. “I’ve got the website pulled up right now.”
Marie pulled out a hard cider for them, then put the rest in the fridge. “Let’s drink first.”
Marie popped off their caps with a bottle opener.
They clinked bottles. “To Drew,” they said together.
“I charged her phone so I can download the rest of her pictures to my laptop before I donate it.”
Marie’s face blanked. “I can do that for you.” Marie grabbed the laptop and spun it towards her. “Give me the phone.”
Jacky stole the laptop back. “I can do this. I need to do this.”
“There are going to be lots of memories.” She shook her head side to side. “Taking her off the cellphone plan is going to be enough for you to deal with for one night. Let me download them for you, and you can walk through them after you’ve had a chance to deal with this hard task first.”
“Okay.” Jacky walked up to the kitchen counter and picked up Drew’s cell. Too afraid to turn it on, she handed it to Marie.
Marie inhaled deeply before turning it on.
Jacky watched as Marie untangled the cord and plugged it into the laptop. “Drink your Angry Orchard.” She pushed the bottle to Jacky.
Jacky watched every one of Marie’s moves, including the slight, but very obvious arch to the eyebrow as she meandered the computer.
“This is silly.” Jacky stood up. “I can download my own pictures.”
Marie’s face turned red, and she tried to cover up the screen with her body. “Let me do this for you.”
“Hell, Marie. I can do this myself. I want to see.” She squared off with her. “I’m ready for it.”
Marie nodded, still red faced.
Jacky pulled her chair in close as Marie began downloading the five hundred plus pictures from Drew’s camera roll. They flashed in front of them, mostly of Sophie and Rosy. She noticed a few of herself, some of the dojo, and a whole slew of them of Kate smiling and taking what looked like selfies.
Marie fidgeted, as the images continued to funnel into the photo library.
Then, a few provocative images flashed by.
Jacky’s heart began to doubt its pacing, knocking around as if wanting to flee the scene. The pictures stopped flashing on the last one. Jacky stared at a set of a boobs she didn’t recognize. “Why are there boobs in her cellphone?”
Marie squirmed. “I have boobs in mine too. Doesn’t mean anything.”
“Drew wasn’t a fan of soft porn as you are. She finds… found it degrading. So why are we staring at perky boobs with hardened nipples?”
“I’m sure it’s just a joke or something.”
Jacky’s legs began to tremble. Then, the tremors swam up into her stomach and chest, rendering it very difficult to breath. “Can you scroll backwards please?” Jacky asked.
Marie cupped her hand on Jacky’s knee before following her order. Jacky braced for heartache. “I can’t take a full breath.”
“Relax. It could be just a joke picture.”
“I’m not laughing.”
“Me either.”
Marie sighed then hit the back button, scrolling through images of Rosy in the front yard, Sophie performing a cheer, Ashley and Sophie giggling in the backseat of the minivan, Jacky walking in front of Drew with Rosy, Drew taking a selfie with a strawberry dangling at her lips, another of Drew in a selfie in front of a mirror where she’s posing rather sexy. “I’ve never seen that picture. Why would she take this picture and not share it with me?”
Marie’s breath rattled. “I’m sure she just wanted to edit it a bit before sending, and then forgot about it. It happens.”
Disgust crawled on Marie’s face. Or was it shame? Or was it fear? Jacky couldn’t tell anymore. Nothing made sense.
“Keep scrolling.”
Marie continued to scroll, slowly clicking to each one, seemingly as scared as Jacky to see what the next would reveal. Then, Kate appeared in a picture that stopped Jacky’s heart. “Why is Kate naked? Oh God, why does my wife have a naked picture of Kate on her cellphone?” She gasped for air, punched her chest, and bent over.
Marie rubbed her back and didn’t say anything. She just rubbed.
Jacky looked back up at the picture of Kate leaning back on a staircase Jacky didn’t recognize, legs spread open, fingers playing with her swollen clit, a look of ecstasy on her face as she leaned her head backwards. Her hair flowed and flirted with her toned arms and shoulders.
Marie yanked the phone out of the cord and sat on it. Then, slammed the laptop cover shut.
“Give it to me.” Jacky extended her hand. “Come on, give it to me.”
Marie slowly pulled the phone out from under her left leg and handed it to Jacky.
She stood and looked at it again. “She didn’t even try to hide it with a passcode. It’s like she wanted me to find out.”
“She didn’t know she was going to die.”
“Are you defending her?”
“No.” She ran her fingers through her steel gray head of hair. “Geez. No.”
Jacky viewed the apps on Drew’s phone. She waved her finger over the Messenger app. “I’m going to dread opening up this app, but I need to see if there’s more evidence.” She clicked into it and scrolled through to find a new, unopened message from Kate from the morning of the crash.
“I need to see you. Please get over here.”
Her heart dropped to the ground. The chair sat too far away. She landed in a heap on the floor. Balled up, she squeezed the phone so hard, her fingernails turned white. “Oh my God, they were having an affair.”
Marie bent down to her level and hugged her. �
��Let me see.”
Jacky clicked back into Messenger, and stared with blurred eyes at the conversation trail. She scrolled, trying to get to the beginning of it. “My God, it’s endless.” She saw emoticons with kisses and winks and hearts, red ones not pink, and xo’s, and hugs, and heart bubbles coming out of cute cartoon puppies mouths, and enough baby’s and sweetheart’s to fill a freaking novel.
“She couldn’t erase them?” Jacky asked. “Did it not dawn on her I might find these?” She continued to scroll way past the three month mark prior to her death. She stopped on a random one where Kate blew a kiss. “Hey sweetheart. I’m craving you.”
Jacky tossed the phone. “I can’t.”
Marie hugged her tighter, rubbing her head and telling her some nonsense about how everything would be okay.
“She was at the cemetery.”
“I know. Sophie told me.”
“Do you think Sophie knew?”
Marie kissed the top of her head. “If she did, it just means she loves you too much to have told you. That’s what we do when we care for someone. We protect them from things that can’t be changed.”
Jacky pictured Kate sobbing at the stone. “She looked right at me at the cemetery. She acted like she had every right to sit at Drew’s urn and sob over her.”
Marie just rocked her more.
After an eternity, Jacky lifted her head. “I need to be alone.”
“That’s not a good idea.”
Jacky stood up and walked toward her front door. “Please. I need to be alone right now.”
Marie twisted her lip and bit down. “Okay. I get it. Just don’t do anything stupid, okay?”
Jacky didn’t agree to that promise.
~ ~
Brooke opened her front door and found Jacky shivering and crying. “Oh my God, what’s wrong?”
Jacky stared at her with mascara smeared down to the apple of her cheeks. “She cheated on me.”
“Drew?”
Jacky nodded, and her teeth chattered.
Brooke wrapped an arm around her and led her into her warm living room. The crackling fire roared a bright orange. She placed a blanket over her shoulders and eased her backward against the couch.
She explained the whole story in shallow breaths, choking down sobs and wrestling with trembles.
“I’m so angry.” Her temples visibly throbbed. “I just got my life back.”
Brooke lifted her hand and brought it up to her lips.
Jacky pulled it away. “I can’t.” Agony ripped apart the peace she had worked so hard to create.
Brooke saw their future fold up into the heart of that anger. “I know you’re scared. You don’t know who to trust now,” Brooke said.
“Trust!” Jacky laughed. “How am I ever going to trust again? Everyone comes sugar-coated. None of us show our true colors. We put on a mask, our best one, and over time it begins to fade away. The sparkles disappear. The colors fade. The fibers start to break apart.”
She paused and shook her head.
“Then one day you wake up and the mask is gone,” she continued, “and what you have before you is the real deal. The face that can’t lie and hide. The one that gets discarded. Perhaps someone will eventually pick it over, examine it and decide that maybe this one is worth cleaning up, repainting, and adding sparkles to again. Or maybe not. Maybe they see the grime and layers of problems that would take a thousand lifetimes to chisel away. I’m afraid that’s what I’ve turned into here.”
Brooke hated what Drew did to Jacky. Drew acted like so many other ungrateful people, people like Penelope. People discarded each other like trash, leaving each other for others to pick over. Jacky got that right. Some got picked, others lived out their lives isolated in a pile of leftovers.
Anger corked its way through Brooke. “I really hate your wife right now.”
Jacky groaned and nodded. “Me, too.”
“How dare she get to do this to you? To Sophie? To us?”
Jacky buried her head in her hands.
Brooke stood up and paced the floor, livid with a dead woman.
“Love is such a gamble,” Jacky mumbled.
Brooke stopped in front of Jacky and absorbed her despair. That very moment could define their future. Brooke needed to remain calm.
She lifted Jacky’s chin with her finger. “Not always.”
“There’s no control over the process.”
“Love isn’t a process,” Brooke said.
“Which makes it difficult for people like me who love processes. I need to know where I’m going and what I’m doing. If I can’t plan for the future, how can I trust the present?”
“By letting go of the future,” Brooke whispered, “and joining in the dance right now while the rhythm beats strong and provides all the nourishment needed.”
“You speak like you’re experienced.”
“I hang with the best dancers of them all. If there’s one thing a beekeeper learns in life, it’s awareness.” Brooke let her finger slip from her chin. “That and lots of patience.”
Jacky reached out for her hand. “I just need time to process all of this.”
Brooke squeezed her hand. “Of course.”
Jacky leaned in and brushed her lips against Brooke’s forehead. “Please be patient with me.”
Brooke nodded and swallowed a sob.
~ ~
When Jacky arrived home, she drank three more Angry Orchards in a matter of minutes. She wrestled over Kate in her mind, and all she wanted to say to her. She wanted to tell her what an ugly, disgusting person she was for ruining their marriage. She didn’t deserve to sit in peace thinking she had gotten away with making a fool out of her. She needed to know the damage she caused.
On a huff, Jacky marched through the living room, past all the pictures of their family, and out the front door. She bolted down the street wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts and a tank top without a bra, no less. She ran barefoot in the street, stepping on stones and crunching the first of the fallen leaves. The pain of the pebbles digging into the soles of her feet soothed her by comparison to the pain ripping through her heart. She pressed on, passing streetlights at a blazing speed. Her legs turned numb under her.
A surge of rage rose. She wanted to punch her. She wanted to wind up her arm and punch her right in the gut to let her experience the piercing pain too. How dare she walk around with her head raised, wearing her chic sunglasses and sporting her expensive highlights after what she did? Who flung herself on a staircase and snapped photos of her spread legs? Who did that?
How did it begin? How did one start an affair?
She and Drew quarreled a lot. Did their fighting do Drew in? She flung those insults just as harshly.
Maybe Jacky should’ve paid her more attention. But how much? She massaged her neck, cleaned out the gutters, gave up watching Survivor because Drew couldn’t handle the scenes with bugs. Hell, she even bought her a car for her birthday.
How did Kate slide into the equation? Did they partner up at the dojo for kicks and end up sipping from the same Margarita at happy hour later on? Who came onto whom first? Drew knew how to flirt. She excelled at it. That’s how she got Jacky, that damn sexy quality and raspy voice she used in the beginning. Did Drew invite her out for a drink? Did they sit in a dark booth sharing laughter and winks? When exactly did Drew decide at what moment they should kiss? Maybe she wished Jacky never entered her life. Did she wish Jacky would roll over and go away so Kate could slide into their family unit instead?
How many times did she fall asleep unknowing that Drew stared at the back of her head possibly weeping because she’d have to spend the rest of her life with someone other than her new lover Kate? Had they slept together in their bed? Did Kate take her side? Did they roll over mid-nap and cuddle and kiss under the same blankets that Jacky wrapped herself in each night?
The questions kept shooting at her from all different angles, relentless in their pursuit of destroying her san
ity.
She ran around the corner to Kate’s street, blinded by tears and rage, powering her stride with her arms. Her feet barely touched the ground by the time she arrived in front of Kate’s house. It hung in dim light, but one light in the living room casting cozy shadows across leather furniture and another toward the kitchen in the back.
She trusted Drew. She gave her everything. She valued their love. She would’ve taken a bullet for her. She would’ve donated one of her kidneys had she needed one. She would’ve confessed to a crime if it meant keeping Drew safe and out of jail. She would’ve moved to Alaska if Drew dreamed of it. She would’ve done anything for her because she loved her beyond anyone else. She viewed her as a soulmate. She always cherished the moment of their first meeting as kismet, where the universe sprinkled magic in the air and nudged them together at just the right time and place.
All that trust shattered in a matter of nanoseconds.
She stood at the foot of Kate’s perfect home with its beautiful sparkly windows, surely triple-paned, and curtains pulled straight out of a home décor magazine. The lawn had just been groomed. It smelled fresh and pure, a complete contradiction to what went on beyond that red door with its welcome wreath.
Little gnomes and frogs with cute hats and signs with witty sayings blanketed the kidney shaped flower beds with their azalea bushes and healthy hostas. How did someone with so much still need to take? Did her husband know and that’s why he divorced her? Did Ashley know and not tell Sophie?
Did everyone know but her?
Kate deserved to suffer. She deserved to have all those pretty flowers ripped up from their roots and strewn all over the front lawn. Jacky imagined herself ripping blades of grass with her bare hands, clawing her way up to the flowers beds. Along the way, she’d toss pebbles from the sides of the path into the grass, chucking them high into the air so they’d rain down on every possible inch of the manicured lawn.
Kate deserved to have the tires of her Escalade slashed so she could be inconvenienced and unable to drive to her mistress’s urn garden. She imagined gutting all four tires until they lay against the gravel like pancakes. A nice, long, deep key groove along the shiny black paint would top the night. She’d love to dig at that polished black until paint chips bled into the driveway.
