by Elle Casey
“I don’t want it. I don’t want to see it, I don’t want to taste it, I don’t want to even know what it is. I’m too young to die.”
“I think you might change your miiiind.” She’s almost singing.
I lift my head just enough to see her face. “You sound way too happy. It makes me very nervous.”
She stands. “Come on. I want to show you something.” She leaves the kitchen and goes to the back door.
Deciding she can’t do too much harm in the backyard, I follow her out. She’s standing on the edge of the deck, pointing out into the darkness.
“What am I looking at?” I ask.
“See that hole?”
I squint to try and focus past the light thrown from the back door. There’s a rectangular dark space over in the corner, near the fence line. “Is that a hole? It’s hard to see it from here.”
“It’s not just a hole,” she says in a loud whisper. “It’s a grave.”
My head whips sideways to look at her. “A grave? For what?”
“Not for what,” she says. “For who.”
“For whom,” I correct.
“For who, for whom. Who cares about prepositions? I’m talking about a graaave.”
“It’s not a preposition, you dope, it’s a relative pronoun.”
“Whatever! The point is … it’s a grave.” She’s wiggling her eyebrows again. I can catch the movement just barely in the dim glow of the porch light.
“Why on earth is there a grave in our backyard?”
She shrugs as she looks out into the darkness. “Oh, I don’t know. Just in case there are any rapists out there in the world who need to be gotten rid of.”
I nearly choke. “Teagan!”
“What?” She’s the picture of innocence. “Doesn’t hurt to be prepared, does it?”
“I swear to God … you’re completely and totally nuts.” I look from her face to the grave and back again. This can’t be real. It’s probably just a flowerbed or something.
“Not nuts. Angry.” She turns to look at me. “I heard what you said, Alissa. That guy deserves to be in that grave, face down, dirt up his asscrack, and his dick in a separate county.”
My emotions are all over the place. Hurt. Angry. Frustrated. Sad. And loved. I feel loved. There’s no denying it. Without thinking too hard about it, I grab Teagan into a hug, doing the best I can with this giant belly between us.
She pats me on the back. “See? That’s what I’m talking about. Some enthusiasm over vengeful thoughts. Finally. That shit is healthy, I don’t care what anyone says. I felt tons better after three hours of digging. I call it shovel therapy.”
I pull back, smiling. “You don’t care who says what?”
Teagan sighs. “Quin. She’s a big time downer when it comes to the grave. She’s anti-grave. Anti shovel-therapy, too. I had to do it all by myself.”
“Really? That’s surprising.” I can picture both of them with a shovel in their hands. I’m almost able to see myself with one, too.
“She watches too many Bones episodes.” Teagan sighs while staring out at her creation. “Apparently, there’s no way I can use that grave and get away with it. Too much forensic evidence working against me.” She shakes her head slowly. “Fucking science. Always was my downfall.” She puts her arm around my shoulders and leads me back to the kitchen. “Come on. Those cookies are calling to me and my ass isn’t quite big enough yet.”
We’re back in the kitchen with our cold tea and cookies, but my heart is about a pound lighter than it was before I left. “I can’t believe you dug a grave.” I shake my head at the craziness. I seriously love her right now.
“Okay, so I really wasn’t going to kill your boyfriend and bury him, but it was a symbolic thing. I was angry and I had to do something constructive with all that energy. Rebel says I need to channel my shit.”
“Rebel’s probably right, but … a grave?” I giggle a little. The demon in me can see Charlie’s face staring up at me from inside and I don’t hate the vision.
“I heard what you said, okay? A grave seemed the most appropriate reaction at the time.”
I try to keep smiling, but I can’t hold it.
“Don’t get all watery on me,” Teagan says. “Let’s just talk about where we go from here.”
“There’s no we. It’s just me.”
“Oh, bull testicles. Stop with the Oh-Poor-Me program, will ya? It’s old. It’s out of style. It’s used up. We’re all in this with you, okay? We all heard the story. We can’t un-hear it. So let us channel our collective energy into some serious action.” She reaches out and holds my wrist. “I’m not playing, okay? Let’s be adults about this. Let’s do the right thing by you and your baby. What’s her name, by the way? Is it Teagan? Quin and I have a bet going.”
I laugh. “You’re too much.”
“It better not be Quin. I’m serious. I probably won’t get over that, like ever. I’m a seriously jealous person when it comes to baby names.”
“Since when?”
“Since right this second. I just pictured your baby and you calling her Quin and I barfed a little in my mouth.”
“No, you didn’t.” I’m still laughing. She’s so ridiculous.
“Was that him on the phone?”
My laughs completely dry up and disappear. I take a long drink of my tea.
“You were talking to him when I walked into your room, weren’t you?”
I sigh heavily and roll my eyes. “Can we not talk about this right now?”
“EEErrrrp! Wrong answer.” She takes my remaining cookie. “Stop stalling and start talking, sister. I had a nap today. I can go all night. I will wear you down to a speck of a person. All the forensic teams will find is a hair follicle.”
“Ew. Okay, fine. Yes. It was him.”
“Did he call you or you call him?”
“I called him.”
“Why?”
I throw up my hands and lean back in my chair. “I don’t know! Moment of weakness! I wasn’t miserable enough!”
“Was it because of Colin?”
I frown. “What? No. It has nothing to do with Colin.”
“Be honest.”
“I am being honest.” Now I’m annoyed. “Colin has been nothing but sweet and kind and understanding about everything.”
“And he fought Randy off, don’t forget that part. By the way, is that Randy Buttermaker?”
“Butterman, not Buttermaker.”
“Stupid name either way. Was that him?”
“Yes. Charlie’s best friend.” My voice is dripping with sarcasm. “They should marry each other.”
Teagan snorts. “Randy wants to, I’m sure.”
“What do you mean?” I lean forward, intrigued.
“What do you mean, what do I mean? He’s as gay as the day is long. He wants Charlie’s dick so bad it’s embarrassing to watch. He totally stares at his crotch, like, all the time.”
I put my tea mug down carefully. “You’re joking, right?”
“Hell no, I’m not joking.” She leans in closer. “Don’t tell me you didn’t ever see that?”
“Actually, I didn’t.” I grimace. Now that Teagan mentions it, it’s not really out of the realm of possibility in my mind. “He was really jealous of me. Or always seemed mad at me.”
“There you go.”
“But … Charlie dated his sister.”
“Randy was probably jealous of her too. But he for sure preferred having Charlie over at their place instead of yours. At least there he stood a chance at seeing Charlie’s dick.”
“That’s just … strange. I mean, I never thought of it like that. Charlie’s straight, though.”
“Doesn’t mean Randy wouldn’t jump at the chance of giving him a BJ. Probably thinks he can convert him over to his team with one good suck-a-roo.”
“Ew, Teagan. Ew. Please don’t go there.”
“Anyway, the question is, what happened during the phone call? Your face looked
like a horror show, so I have to assume it wasn’t good.”
“It wasn’t.” It feels good to say it to someone other than myself. “It was a big mistake. I shouldn’t have called him.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because. If he didn’t know I was pregnant before, he does now.”
“Good. He needed to know.”
“No, not good! Before, I could do things my way and not worry about lawyers and him and his family and … all that.”
“Bullshit, Alissa. You did have to worry about that. You can’t hide that shit from them. But you can prepare yourself and do the right thing and have everything turn out okay. I promise.”
“You’re living in a fantasy world.”
“Nope. I’m living in the real world. We need to get you a lawyer.”
“Yeah, right. I can’t afford a lawyer. You know that.”
She sighs. “I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but what the hell. We have a legal fund set up for you already.”
“What? Who does?”
“We do. The family. The Rebel Wheels family.”
“None of you have the extra money for this.”
“Well, apparently we do, since we’re all set to pay your retainer. You just have to decide which lawyer you want.”
“What? What? I don’t …? That …” I can do nothing but sputter.
She pats my hand and stands up. “I think I’ve done enough for one day.” She takes our mugs and plates to the sink. “Why don’t you go to sleep and we’ll figure the rest of this out tomorrow.”
I just sit there staring at her. I don’t know what to say. Like I’ll be able to sleep after all this. Graves … Randy … legal funds …
When she’s done loading the dishes into the dishwasher, she turns to face me. “Everything is going to work out okay. Just leave it to us.”
“I’m pretty sure that statement is going to go down in history as famous last words.”
“Nah,” she says, folding up a kitchen towel and pressing it into the counter. “I believe in the system. It’s going to get my father’s company back where it belongs and it’s going to get your life back where it belongs.”
“Yeah, right. That system you trust already let you down.”
“How so?” she asks.
“Those lawyers, charging you all that money. They said they’d pay for it and wait to have you pay them back.”
She grins. “You’re right. They did.” She walks past me and pats me on the shoulder. “G’night, pregnant lady! See you in the morning.”
She’s halfway up the stairs before I’m on my feet. “Wait! What?”
The only response I get is the sound of the bathroom door shutting.
I walk up to my room and go inside, slowly closing the door behind me. Staring at the rumpled sheets, I remember how I felt the last time I was in here, less than an hour before. As I climb into bed, I fantasize about getting a full night’s sleep without any nightmares torturing my overworked and exhausted brain. As my eyes drift shut, I consider the idea of trying some of that shovel-therapy. Seems like it could have some benefits.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
THE DAY DAWNS BRIGHT AND sunny. “Just another day in paradise,” I mutter, getting out of bed and gathering my things for the shower. I’m shocked when my phone says it’s eleven already. Wow. Were there drugs in those cookies?
Colin greets me outside the door, dressed in his painting clothes, his hair all over the place. “Morning.”
“Morning,” I say, trying to keep my horrible breath to myself.
“Got time for lunch with the boss today?”
Butterflies start doing their thing in my stomach. “My boss? Would that be you?”
“Last time I checked,” he says, smiling. “Unless you found another job already.”
His comment reminds me of the appointment I have at the accounting firm next week. “No, not yet.”
“Good.” He looks at his phone. “Half hour?”
I nod.
“Okay. My car’s out front.”
“We’re going somewhere?”
“Yep. Thought we’d stop off at the gallery and check on things.”
“Okay, good.” That scratches one task off my list. “I’ll be ready.”
Leaving him out in the hallway, I busy myself with getting presentable. A half hour later, I’m out the front door and walking to his car. He’s got it in park, but the engine is rumbling.
“You’re good,” he says through the open window. “I don’t know any other chick on the planet who can get ready as fast as you.” He moves some papers off the passenger seat so I can sit down.
“I’m low maintenance, what can I say.” I click my seatbelt into place and try to smile casually at him. It’s hard because all I can do is think how gorgeous he looks. And how he wants a picture of my baby. Sigh.
“Good. I like low maintenance.” He shifts the car into drive and we leave the neighborhood.
He stops not far away in the parking lot of a playground and turns off the engine.
“What are we doing here?” I ask. The silence in the car is quickly becoming awkward.
“Lunch.” He get out of the car without another word and opens the trunk.
When I get out, I see he has a box under his arm.
“What are we doing? Planting a bomb first?”
He looks at me like I’m nuts.
“Sorry,” I say, embarrassed. “I guess all the talk of graves last night put me in a dark frame of mind.”
He walks towards the swings, expecting me to follow. “Graves? Did you watch a horror movie with Teagan or something?”
“No. She showed me the grave she dug in the backyard.”
He stops walking and stares at me. “A grave? Like a grave, grave?”
“Yes. It’s for Charlie, apparently.”
His expression goes softer. “You told her?”
“No. Well, yes, but not intentionally.”
“Tell me over lunch,” he says, walking again.
I follow behind, being careful not to trip over tree roots. We’re under the biggest oak I think I’ve ever seen, and its legs stretch out in all directions.
Colin puts the box down and opens it up, pulling out a blanket that he spreads on the ground. It’s wool, a red plaid that looks new.
The lightbulb goes on in my head. “A picnic lunch?”
“Yep.” He grins, obviously very happy with himself. “Awesome idea, right?”
I can’t help but smile back. “Yes. Except for the part where I have to try and get up from the ground later.” I can just picture it in my head. Instead of being a penguin, I’ll be a turtle on its back.
“Don’t worry. I’ll help ya.” He takes fast food bags out of the box next and puts them in the middle of the blanket. The upside down box serves as our table.
I laugh.
“Hey, no laughing. I’m not a cook.”
I join him on the blanket, sitting opposite the food. Watching him fold his powerful legs into the same position second-graders around the world use every day makes me smile. He’s way too adorable for his own good.
I can picture him as a small boy, and it slowly draws me into a melancholy mood. A fantasy of seeing him holding his own baby some day slides into my head. Some lucky girl is going to have that privilege, and I know it’s not going to be me. I wonder if I’ll still be around in his life to see it.
“You bummed about the food?” he asks, looking at me with a worried expression.
I yank myself out of my dreamworld. “No, don’t be silly. I don’t care. I’m starving. What’d you bring?”
“Chicken, coleslaw, hush puppies, and mashed potatoes with gravy.”
My mouth starts watering. “I don’t even know what a hush puppy is, but I’m pretty sure I want one.”
He reaches into the bag and hands me what he pulls from inside: a brown, deep-fried ball of something.
“Try it. You’ll love it.”
; I bite into what turns out to be crunchy on the outside and soft on the inside corn bread. “Mmmmm,” I say, hoping I won’t regret this later. I never know what my body is going to accept or reject anymore.
“So how did Teagan find out about Charlie?” he asks.
“They’re spies. All of them.” A piece of corn bread flies out of my mouth and lands on the white paper bag in front of Colin. My face flames up red.
He pretends he doesn’t see it. “Seriously?”
“Kind of. Apparently the vent in the kitchen is somehow connected to the one in the attic and anything we say up there, they can hear downstairs.”
“Oh. Bummer.”
“Yeah. That’s what I said.”
“So what did she say about it?”
I shrug. “That she was so mad she dug a grave to put Charlie in.” I smile at the memory. “And she says I need to get a lawyer and that everyone at Rebel Wheels has put money in to help me.” I look up at him, hoping to read his mind. “Is that true?”
He looks down at his legs and tosses a napkin around a little. “Could be.”
“Colin, seriously.” I sigh in annoyance. “I’m so tired of you guys just doing things without talking to me first. Could you please just tell me what’s going on?”
He looks up, abandoning his napkin. “I’d be happy to if I knew you’d be rational about listening and responding.”
“Are you calling me irrational?”
“Do you hear your voice right now? We’re veering into irrational territory already and I haven’t even said anything yet.”
I take a deep breath and close my eyes for a second. “Okay. I’m calm.”
He leans forward and then shifts his body so he’s closer to me. “Give me your hand.” He holds his own out, waiting for me to comply.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because. I can’t think straight when you’re doing that.”
A slow smile moves into place. “Doing what?”
I slap at his hand. “You know exactly what. Just tell me.”
“You think I’m just playing around with you, don’t you?” His smile slowly disappears.
“No. Well, yes, actually, if you really want to know the truth.”
“Why would I do that?”
I throw my hands up. “As if I know how your mind works, Colin!”
