by John Rector
There was a tone to Jimmy’s voice I’d never heard before. It wasn’t threatening, and it wasn’t angry, it was something worse, something almost desperate. If I hadn’t known better, I might’ve thought he was begging. Whatever it was, the words sat cold inside me.
“Are we done?” I asked.
Jimmy stared at me, his face even, emotionless. “You never change, Matt, do you?” He leaned in close. “Call him and talk to him. Work something out. He’ll listen.”
I didn’t say anything.
“He can’ty took a deep
6
I made it to the labor office right as the doors were opening. I got in line and was given a spot on a cleanup crew at a new construction site just outside the city. There were eleven of us, and we spent the day clearing a scatter of cement blocks, gathering broken boards, and tearing down two hundred feet of rusted chain-link fencing. By the time we finished, every muscle in my body ached, and my hands were blistered and bloody.
I made sixty dollars.
We climbed back into the truck, and they dropped us at the labor office just as the sun was slipping below the horizon. I walked home, feeling each step, and thinking about Anna.
Carrie would’ve picked her up from school that afternoon, and by now they’d have finished her lessons and were probably waiting for me. I thought there was a chance I’d make it home in time for dinner, but even if I didn’t, I’d still get to see Anna before she went to bed.
There was never enough time.
After the accident, I wouldn’t leave Anna’s side. She had no memory of what’d happened, and that was a blessing, but some nights it would come to her in dreams and she’d wake up screaming, calling for Beth.
Those were the nights I’d crawl out of bed and stumble down the hall to her room. I’d hold her in my arms and rock her back and forth, and I’d tell her not to be scared, that I was there, that I’d always be there.
It was my promise to her.
If she needed me, all she had to do was call my name and I’d come running, forever and always, no matter what.
Eventually Anna would stop crying and she’d fall asleep. I’d tuck her back into bed then take a blanket and pillow into her room and sleep on the floor by her feet.
I told myself I was doing it for her, that if she woke up again, I didn’t want her to be alone. But there was more to it. With Beth gone, my bed was just too big.
By the time I got back to my neighborhood, the sun was down, and the snow had started again. I could see my house at the end of the block, the light from the windows glowing gold among the shadows and snowfall.
I put my head down and kept moving.
When I got to the house, I unlocked the door and stepped inside. The air was warm and sweet.
“Something smells good.”
Dash barked, and Anna ran out of the kitchen. She was wearing a lime-green apron and with you?”AK. It was holding a wooden spoon covered in thick chocolate. “You have to see this,” she said. “We made cupcakes.”
I took off my coat and walked into the kitchen. Carrie was standing at the counter spreading frosting over the tops of the cupcakes, her hair pulled back in a loose bun just above her shoulders.
When she saw me, she smiled.
“We wanted to surprise you.”
“It worked,” I said. “I’m surprised.”
“They’re chocolate,” Anna said. “Your favorite.”
I put my hand on her head. “I can’t wait to try one.”
“They’re not ready yet.” Carrie turned to Anna. “How about showing him your pictures?”
Anna’s eyes got big. “Do you want to see them? I took a lot today.”
“I’d love to.”
Anna smiled and dropped the spoon in the sink. She ran out to the living room, and Dash followed.
I opened the cabinet above the sink and took out a mason jar and unscrewed the lid. There were several bills inside, and I added the sixty dollars I’d made.
“How was your day?” Carrie asked.
I told her it was fine, then said, “Thank you for your help. You didn’t have to do all this.”
“Are you kidding? I never get to bake.” She nodded toward the doorway. “And she had a great time.”
“It’s more than tonight,” I said. “I don’t know what I would’ve done this past year without you.”
“She’s a sweet girl, Matt. It’s no trouble.”
“You’ve helped her so much,” I said. “She loves you.”
Carrie set the frosting knife down and wiped her hands on a frayed dish towel. She looked up at me, her eyes green and clear. She started to say something, then stopped and leaned in fast, pressing her lips against mine.
I didn’t pull away. Instead, I reached up and touched her cheek, felt her skin, breathed her in. It felt so good that I didn’t want to stop.
But I did.
“Carrie, I—”
Carrie bit her lower lip and turned back to the counter and the tray of cupcakes. I saw her chest rise and fall with her breath.
I reached out and put my hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, I—”
She shrugged me off. “Don’t worry about it.”
A minute later, Anna came back carrying a red shoebox filled with Polaroid photos. She set the box on the kitchen table and started taking the photos out, one by one.
“You’ve been busy,” I said.
I flipped through the photos as she handed them to me. Most were of Dash in her room, some were of Carrie sitting on the couch with a book open on her lap, and the rest were random shots from outside.
“I think you have a photographer on your hands,” Carrie said. “She’s unstoppable.”
I smiled and kept sorting through the photos. One caught my eye and I slid it out of the pile and held it up held up his hands. “to the out of to the light. It was of one of the feral cats from around the neighborhood. This one was orange and black, and it was crouched next to the fence by the alley. Its head was turned toward the camera, eyes reflecting red, and it had something heavy and gray in its mouth.
I held it out to Anna. “What’s this one?”
She looked at it. “That’s a cat.”
“I got that,” I said. “What’s in its mouth?”
“A rat.”
I looked closer. At first I didn’t see it, but then I noticed the claws and the thin black-wire tail.
Something rotten settled inside me.
“This was out back?”
Anna nodded, never looking up from the photos. “Over by the fence.”
“There are rats out there?”
“I started seeing them over the summer,” Carrie said. “I’m surprised you haven’t noticed them.”
I flipped through a few more shots of abandoned homes, barred windows, and overgrown lawns, each photo looming larger than the last. It occurred to me that I was seeing Anna’s world, the world I provided for her, through her eyes.
The realization weighed heavy in my chest.
I looked through them all before going back to the one with the rat. There was so much I wanted to say, but I didn’t know where to begin.
Anna must’ve noticed, because she smiled, said, “It’s okay, Daddy. They leave you alone if you leave them alone.”
I cleared my throat and tried to keep my voice calm. “You just stay away from them, got it?”
Anna nodded.
I dropped the photo on top of the stack and leaned back. For a while, nobody said anything.
Carrie held up one of the cupcakes. “Who’s ready?”
I didn’t feel like eating anythingand tried not
7
On the day the letter arrived, Anna was outside with Dash. She was building a snowman with what little snow was left on the ground while Dash ran in circles around her, jumping, barking.
I stood at the window with the letterXk? y in one hand and the phone in the other, trying to calm down. I had to call Jerry, but I was forcing myself to wait. At
that moment, all I wanted to do was put my fist through a wall. I knew if I didn’t take some time, I’d only make things worse.
I watched Anna for a while longer, then turned away from the window and sat at the kitchen table. I unfolded the letter in front of me. It was from a law firm upstate telling me they were starting custody proceedings. They were asking me to consider Anna’s best interests and willfully sign over guardianship to her grandparents.
I read the letter twice, then dialed Jerry’s number.
He answered on the second ring.
I asked him about the letter, and somehow managed to keep my voice calm. I don’t know how, but I did.
“It’s all in there,” Jerry said. “I don’t have anything else to add.”
I picked up the letter and read it out loud. When I finished, I said, “Her best interest? When have I ever done anything that wasn’t in her best interest?”
“That’s not—”
“Answer the question.” My voice was loud, but I couldn’t help it. “When have I ever done anything where she wasn’t right up front in my mind?”
“I told you,” Jerry said. “We’re only trying to help.”
“By taking my daughter?”
“No one is taking anyone.”
“Then what the fuck do you call it?”
Jerry pulled the phone away, covered the receiver, and said something off the line. When he came back, his voice shook. “I’m going to put Dorothy on.”
“Goddamn it, Jerry, don’t—”
But it was too late. Before I could get it out, Dorothy was on the line, her voice bright, cheery, and completely insincere. “Hello, Matt.”
“I want to talk to Jerry about this.”
“I’m afraid you have me instead,” she said. “Jerry isn’t feeling well today, and this is a stressful situation for everyone involved.”
“Am I supposed to feel sorry for him?”
“A little understanding would be nice,” she said. “Perhaps if you took a step back and looked at our side of things, you might see why we’re doing this. Maybe you’d even see it our way.”
“Your way?”
“One second, Matt.” Dorothy lowered the receiver. I heard movement and a door closing. Then she was back. “I’m sorry, but I don’t want Jerry hearing any of this. He really is in knots over the entire thing.”
“He should be,” I said. “And so should you. What you’re doing is unforgivable. At least Jerry knows it.”
“We’re doing what we think is best for Anna, and make no mistake about it, Jerry feels the same way I do. It might be hard to face, but for the time being, she will be better off here with us.”
“Bullshit.”
“Is it, Matt? Is it bullshit?”
“This family has been torn apart enough.”, staring up at the ceilings out of
“Yes, it has, but that doesn’t change the situation you’re in right now.”
“My situation is temporary,” I said. “Money is tight, but that’s no reason to—”
“This isn’t just about the money.”
“Of course it is,” I said. “It’s the only thing you have to hold over my head. It’s your only weapon.”
“Matt—”
“If it’s not the money, then what is it?”
Dorothy paused. “Are you still having the nightmares?”
I opened my mouth, but all that came out was a short, choked sound. I felt a rush of anger sweep through me, and I closed my eyes and waited for it to pass.
It took a while.
“Yes, I know about the nightmares,” Dorothy said. “And the mood swings, the violent behavior, all of it.”
“It’s not like that anymore.” My voice sounded unsure, even to me, but I kept going. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know Beth was scared of you. I know she would call me in tears almost every night those first few months after you came home. She told me what you—” Dorothy stopped. “She told me what happened over there, so I know more than you think.”
I thought back to that time, and as much as I hated to admit it, Dorothy was right. I’d put Beth through more than I ever wanted to in those days, and I wasn’t surprised to hear she’d turned to her mother when things got really bad.
Still, it hurt to hear.
“It’s different now,” I said. “Those dreams have stopped. Things are better.”
“I’m glad,” Dorothy said. “But that’s only part of the larger issue. What about Anna? She’s still recovering from the accident. She needs special attention.”
“I know what she needs.”
“But does she get it? From what I hear, she spends most of her time at home with one of your lady-friend neighbors.”
“Her name is Carrie,” I said. “She’s a nurse, and Anna loves her.”
“That’s all well and good, Matt, but Anna needs tutors and counseling outside of school. She needs professional help.”
“She’s improving,” I said. “Every day she’s better.”
Dorothy exhaled, slow. “You’re a good man, Matt, and we love you. We know you’ll do whatever you have to do for Anna, but you have to see that she needs a stable environment. And since you won’t let us lend you the money you need—”
“You don’t have the money I need.”
“We could always make something work, but that’s your business, and I won’t argue with you about it anymore. But I also will not back down about Anna. She needs someone now, and we can be there for her.”
“I’m here for her.”
“I know you believe you are,” Dorothy said. “But is it true?”
Once again, a rolling wave of anger sXst into wept through me, forcing its way to the surface. This time it hit with such force that there was no chance of keeping it inside.
From that point on, the conversation turned bad.
Eventually, I slammed the phone down and pushed away from the table. I walked to the window and looked out at Anna in the yard. She didn’t see me at first, but when she did, she waved and pointed to her snowman. It was a sad, brown thing, almost as tall as her, but the excitement on her face shone bright and broke inside me.
Are you still having the nightmares?
I turned away from the window and sat back at the table. There was a stack of unpaid bills on the counter. I grabbed them and started flipping through, one by one. My plan was to get my mind off my conversation with Dorothy, but of course it just made things worse.
Are you still having the nightmares?
I got up and paced the small kitchen, going over everything Dorothy had said. She’d been right about one thing. Anna did need special attention, and maybe I wasn’t in the best position to provide it for her, but that didn’t mean things wouldn’t get better. And there was one thing Dorothy was overlooking.
Anna was my daughter.
It was in her best interest to stay with me, not to be pawned off every time things got tough. If I hadn’t let her go after Beth died, when I didn’t know how I was going to make it through my days, then I sure as hell wasn’t going to let her go now.
I reached for the attorney’s letter and went over it again. This time the anger faded as I read, replaced with absolute calm and one single thought: Anna and I had been through worse, a hell of a lot worse, and we’d survived.
If Dorothy and Jerry thought I’d hand her over without a fight, they were in for a shock.
Outside, Dash started barking, loud and urgent.
I figured one of the alley cats had wandered into our yard, but then I heard Anna’s voice.
“Daddy!”
I dropped the letter on the table and crossed the kitchen to the window and looked out.
There was a man in my yard.
He was wearing a black snow cap and a dark blue peacoat. His back was to me, aD">I smile
8
Jay sat at the kitchen table, and I handed him a cup of coffee. He held it with both hands and nodded toward the window. “Sh
e’s gotten big.”
“That’s what they do.”
“I guess so,” he said. “Still strange to see.”
I sat across from him and watched him drink. It’d been a couple weeks since that night in the bar, and from the way he looked, I didn’t think he’d slept much since. His skin was gray, and his eyes were flat and rimmed heavy and dark. Looking at him was like looking at a skull.
If I’d had any doubts about Jay using again, they were gone now.
I watched him and waited for him to say something.
I didn’t wait long.
“You didn’t expect to see me?”
“I didn’t think about it,” I said. “But I’m not all that surprised, either.”
“Well, here I am.” He set the coffee cup on the table and leaned back. “Came to get your answer.”
“My answer?” I shook my head. “Christ, Jay. Don’t start with that shit again.”
“Now’s the time to act,” Jay said. “Roach told me the woman has her appointment this week.”
“I already gave you my answer. Nothing’s changed.”
Jay reached for his cup, frowned. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Pretend like you’re above it all.” He took a sip and winced. “I mean, who the fuck do you think you’re talking to? I know you, Matt.”
“You knew me,” I said. “People change.”
“Let’s cut the bullshit. I know what happened to you, and I know all about your situation.”
“You checked up on me?”
“Something was different with you,” he said. “I knew about Beth, but I could tell there was more. Now I know.”
“You don’t know anything.”
Jay sat forward and ran one finger along the rim of his cup. “I know you came home from the desert with a few loose screws rattling around in your head.”
I looked up fast—too fast.
Jay didn’t seem to notice.
“I know the plant closed and now you’re flat broke. I know you had to mortgage the house to cover your little girl’s medical bills after the accident, not to mention Beth’s funeral.” He stared at me. “I know you’re in a hole that you won’t be able to climb out of anytime soon.”
