“Bro…?” Chad’s shocked voice answers.
“Yeah… Hey.”
“You… Is everything all right? Is something wrong?”
“No. Everything’s good. I just… wanted to talk.”
The line goes quiet. Chad clears his throat. “Bro, you haven’t called me in… years. Can you hang on a second, man?”
“Sure.”
Dylan can hear him talking in the background. “Take over here for a second.”
“Okay. I’m back. Jesus, Dylan, this… you don’t know how much this shit means to me… you calling me. I’ve missed how we used to be, you know? You used to be my goddamn best friend. I miss that shit. But I understand why you haven’t called, I really do, man, I really do.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry,” Dylan says before clearing his throat. “I know I’ve not done things the way I should have, but I didn’t really know any other way to–”
“It’s okay, man,” Chad says, interrupting him. “There’s nothing to be fucking sorry about. The shit you’ve been through…”
“Yeah,” Dylan says, acknowledging what Chad can’t say.
“So, what’d you want to talk about?” Chad asks excitedly. “Oh, and fuck, I’m sorry I didn’t get to call you back the other night. Has mom called you?”
“No.”
“Well, she was planning to but things have been fucking nuts around here. Nat started having pre-term labor. She’s okay now, but she’s on full bed rest until the baby comes. And she is so fucking pissed about it, too. Mom’s been staying at the house, helping her during the day while I work and also helping out with the boys.”
“Damn, I’m sorry. Is the…” Dylan says before swallowing hard, “… is the baby going to be okay?”
“Yeah, we think so. The doc acted like if she stays strict on her bed rest that everything will be fine. I won’t let her lift a fucking finger. It’s driving her crazy.”
Dylan chuckles. “I bet.”
“Hey, you never got to tell me why Sabrina showed up. I’ve been wondering about that shit.”
“Oh, well, she, uh…” Dylan mumbles. He can’t tell Chad why Sabrina got his address from the kids because Chad doesn’t know everything that went down between him and Sabrina. But he can tell him why she showed up on his doorstep. “I guess she stopped by the cemetery on her way to work the morning after we were there. Said she does it every year. Something about how she likes seeing the gifts people leave. Anyway, when she got there… well, it was bad. She kind of fucking lost it and drove straight to my house.”
“Lost it? What do you mean?”
“Someone vandalized the tombstone.”
“What the fuck?” Chad shouts.
“We didn’t find out until later, but I guess a group of kids came in and vandalized a bunch of tombstones, twelve of them in fact. It happened sometime that night… after we left.”
“Fucking hell,” Chad mumbles. “What did they do to it?”
Dylan grimaces, his stomach twisting into knots as he pictures it in his mind again. “They… they spray painted some shit on it and took what looked like a sledgehammer to it. It was cracked down the middle and one of the edges broke off.”
“Goddamn it! Those motherfucking assholes! How could someone do that shit? I swear to god, if I knew who did it, I’d kick their asses across the whole goddamn state of Idaho. What the hell is wrong with kids these days? That is some sick shit. Jesus Christ, no wonder she came to see you. What the hell did you guys do?”
“Well, we drove to Boise together, and we fought pretty much the entire fucking time. She hates that she didn’t get to help pick out the… the tombstone, you know, when it happened. You remember what a fucking mess she was… Anyway, she said since this one was ruined, she wanted us to both pick out a new one. I understood where she was coming from, but there was no way in the goddamn fucking universe I was gonna let her remove that stone and replace it. You know how important that shit is to me. It’s like… I don’t know. I don’t even know how to explain how I feel about it. It’s symbolic or some shit. It means… It just means everything to me.” Dylan doesn’t want to think about how many tears he’s shed on that piece of rock.
“Goddamn. I understand, bro, that’s some deep shit.”
“Anyway, we got there and called the cops and filed a police report. They told us shit couldn’t be done about it, of course, because they didn’t have time to deal with small-time vandals.
“So then Sabrina threw a damn fit and said she wanted a new stone no matter what. I ended up having to go in and consult with the funeral director to find out what my rights were since we were divorced. He said she couldn’t change it unless she went to court and got a judge to grant her a court order. Jesus, we fought about it for what seemed like hours.”
“Damn.”
“I told her about Harvey and how good he was with stone work and how many years dad had worked with him and she finally let me call him. He came out and looked at the damage and convinced her that he could fix it and make it look brand new. So we ended up compromising. She agreed to let me keep the old stone as long as she could add a couple of picture frames to it, one on each side. She wanted a family pic on one side and a single pic on the other. So I agreed.”
“Jesus Christ, what a fucking nightmare.”
“Yeah… Don’t tell mom about it. I asked Harvey to keep it quiet and to not even tell dad. They don’t need to know that shit. Harvey said he’d work on it as top priority but if mom mentions going to the cemetery, try to keep her away. Sounds like she won’t with everything that’s going on with Nat right now, but you never know. It should be done in the next couple of days. I’ll just tell her that Sabrina wanted to add the picture frames. It’d fucking crush her if she knew what happened.”
“Yeah, it would,” Chad says. “I feel so bad for you, bro. That’s just fucked up.”
“I know. Hey, I wanted to talk to Nat, but before I do, could you tell her what happened so I don’t have to repeat it? You know this shit is hard for me. Can you have her call me later… but only if she feels like it, because it’s no big deal.”
“Of course, bro. God, she’ll be over the fucking moon to hear that you want to talk to her.”
Dylan’s lips curve into a small smile.
“Hey, bro?” Chad says.
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for calling me… and for talking. I… it’s just fucking good, really good.”
“Yeah… Well, I better go.”
“Okay. Dude, just know that I’m here for you, all right? You can call me any time of the fucking day or night. Even if you ain’t got shit to talk about, we can just shoot the fucking breeze.”
Dylan smiles. “Okay.”
When Dylan shuts his phone, he stares down at it for a minute. He feels different. Like his chest isn’t so heavy. It felt good to talk to Chad. From now on, he has to make more of an effort. His brother deserves a lot more from him.
Just as he starts to tuck his phone in his pocket, it rings. Immediately, his heart rate speeds up in anticipation that it might be Myra. But when he looks at his phone and sees the unfamiliar number, he sighs heavily and tosses it on the center console of his truck. Leaning his head back against the back rest, he closes his eyes. It rings once more before going silent. Then it starts ringing again. Frowning, he picks it up; it’s the same number again. With a groan, he flips it open. “Lawson,” he answers in an irritated voice.
“Dylan?” a woman asks.
“Yeah?”
“Hi.”
He frowns. “Who is this?”
“It’s Rhonda,” she says. He rolls his eyes and bites back a groan. “Did you get my messages? I have a lot of work that needs done on my house. I–”
“I can’t take on any new jobs right now,” he says, cutting her off. “You’ll have to call someone else.”
“Oh. But… the new disposal you put in is backing up,” she says quickly.
“Did you put pasta down it again
?”
“No, I’ve barely even used it. Can you come over today?”
“I can’t. I’ll send someone else to take a look at it. He’ll be in touch.”
“But, Dylan, I need–” she says before he flips his phone shut. He knows Ray probably won’t answer his phone, but he decides to try him anyway. Flipping his phone back open, he dials his number. Just before it goes to voicemail, Ray answers, shocking the hell out of him.
“What the fuck do you want?” Ray says in a low voice.
“Look, I need your help with something,” Dylan says while digging a cigarette out of his pocket.
“I told you I wasn’t going to work with your stupid ass again. Do you have a problem with your memory, douchebag?”
Dylan clenches his fist against the steering wheel wishing like hell Ray was here so he could bust him in his mouth. He takes in a deep breath. “I put in a garbage disposal for some woman. It’s backing up and I can’t go look at it. I’ll pay you a hundred bucks to take care of it for me.”
“And why can’t you do it?”
“I’m stuck on a job.”
“Well, I’m in the middle of a job too. Why can’t you do it?”
“I just don’t have time.”
“Bullshit. It’d probably take you half an hour to do it. There has to be another reason why.”
“Because the woman showed up in a fucking towel the last time I was there and I don’t feel like dealing with that shit. Do you want the job or not?”
“Who showed up in a towel?”
“That Rhonda woman that lives over on Elm…”
Ray busts out cackling. “Rhonda Neil?” he asks before laughing again. Dylan rolls his eyes and lights his cigarette, taking a deep drag. “That had to be a scary fucking sight. You totally deserve that shit.”
“Whatever. Do you want the job or not?”
“Maybe… So has Myra come to her senses and dumped your hateful ass yet?”
“Goddamn it. Why can’t you keep your fucking mouth shut, huh? Myra is none of your damn business.”
Ray cackles. “You’re so easy to piss off. I’ll do it for two fifty.”
“Are you out of your fucking mind?”
“Hmm... You’re right. That number is a little off. I’ll do it for three.”
Dylan’s nostrils flare. “Two.”
“Done… I will gladly take your money, Sonny Boy. But it’ll be a few days before I can get to her because I wasn’t lying; I am tied up on a job right now.”
Before they hang up, Ray agrees to call Rhonda to set up an appointment and call Dylan once he’s diagnosed the problem.
Dylan tucks his phone in his pocket and starts his truck. He has to run home to get his sledgehammer before he can start on Myra’s sidewalk. When he pulls back into her driveway, he gets out of his truck and straps on his tool belt. With a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, he leans against the side of his truck and stares down at the sledgehammer for a moment, a tight feeling in his chest. What kind of sick fuck would use a sledgehammer on a tombstone?
Taking a drag on his cigarette, he finally picks up the sledgehammer and walks over to the edge of her sidewalk. Holding it tight in his palms, he frowns down at it and repositions his hands over and over unable to get a comfortable grip. Swallowing hard, he finally closes his eyes and lifts the sledgehammer and slams it against the concrete. Visions of kids with spray cans and sledgehammers amidst tombstones bombard him as he breaks the sidewalk into chunks, tossing them to the side.
He heaves the last chunk of concrete into the pile and sits on top of it, pulling out another smoke. He’ll have to come back in the morning with his trailer to haul everything off.
Just as he finishes his cigarette, his phone rings.
His heart sinks when he reads the caller ID. It’s Natalie.
“Yeah,” he answers.
“Dylan… Chad told me what happened. I can’t imagine what you and Sabrina have been going through. My heart just hurts for you both. That is just… it’s just so vile that I don’t even have the words to describe it. How could someone do that? How could someone desecrate something so sacred and precious? It’s disgusting.”
“Yeah, it is.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks.”
“You don’t know what your phone call meant to Chad. Don’t tell him I told you this, but he got a little emotional over it. It meant the world to him; he’s really missed you. And it meant a lot to me too. You know I’ve always thought of you as a brother. I’ve missed you too. We all have.”
“Yeah, I know,” Dylan says rubbing a hand over the tense muscles in his neck. “How are you feeling? How’s the baby?”
“She’s fine. She just tried to make an early appearance,” she says with a chuckle. “I know I was pushing myself too hard with work and the boys. Work has been insane lately. We’re so short-handed so I’ve been working double shifts. I guess it caught up with me. But I’m feeling great now and no more contractions so far.”
“Good.”
“So, how is Sabrina doing? I know I probably shouldn’t be saying this to you since it’s kind of awkward and everything, but I miss her.”
Dylan sighs. “It’s all right. I know you do. She’s doing really good… she’s clean, been clean for nine months now. She seems to finally have it together.”
“Wow. That’s incredible. I’m so glad to hear that. Why hasn’t she called me? You know how close we were. She just up and disappeared. She didn’t just lose you in the divorce; she lost all of us.”
“I don’t know. I guess she just needed to focus on herself and her sobriety.” Dylan doesn’t want to continue this line of talking so he changes the subject. “Um… I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“Sure, anything...”
“Well, uh, you remember how you guessed that I was seeing someone? Well, I’m kind of seeing her, I guess…” He closes his eyes and blows out a heavy breath.
Nat laughs lightly. “Yes, I remember.”
“Well, I royally fu– I mean, messed things up with her, and I don’t know what to do.”
“What happened?”
“Well, I was at Myra’s house – that’s her name. Myra. Anyway, I was at her house the morning Sabrina showed up. When I checked my phone, I had a dozen missed calls from her. I listened to one of her voicemails and found out she was sitting on my doorstep and that someone had vandalized the tombstone. I didn’t know what to do so I just kind of flipped out and hightailed it outta there…”
“Myra doesn’t know what happened, does she?”
“No,” Dylan says, sighing. “I was going to tell her everything that morning. At least I was going to try. But I couldn’t. I was a mess. I had to go.”
“That’s completely understandable, Dylan. Of course you were a mess.”
Dylan clears his throat. “But that’s not the worst of it…”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I texted Myra and told her I had to go to Boise and that I would call her. But I didn’t get a chance to. Sabrina and I didn’t get back until late and I was a zombie from all of the stress. I hadn’t eaten a thing all day long because I was sick to my stomach over everything. We had left Sabrina’s car at my house, and because I didn’t want her driving back to Boise by herself after dark, I told her she could stay on the couch and leave in the morning. Sabrina woke me up the next day telling me that Myra was at the door, and I was so shocked and upset, I kind of… yelled at her. And then Sabrina was standing there in one of my shirts and nothing else, wearing her wedding ring of all things…”
“She what…?” Natalie asks before snorting. “That sounds exactly like something Sabrina would do.”
“Yep. Anyway, I couldn’t talk to Myra with Sabrina there and Myra probably thinks I slept with Sabrina and now Myra won’t talk to me and everything has just gone to shit. Sorry. I didn’t mean to say that.”
Natalie snickers. “It’s okay.”
“I told My
ra that as soon as Sabrina left, I’d come over and explain everything, but she disappeared. And I don’t know where she is. She used to live in Philly and has a friend out there so I think she might be there. But she won’t take my calls, and I don’t know what to do.”
“All right, don’t panic. This is fixable. I can’t wait to meet this girl. All we need to do is get her to listen to you. And if you can’t get her to talk to you, I’ll have you wheel me in my bed to her and I’ll talk some sense into her. So how did you two meet?”
“I was doing some work on her house.”
“Okay… and you said she won’t answer your calls, right?”
“Right.”
“Hmm... You’ve got to find out where she is. You said you think she’s in Philly? Do you have an address?”
“No… nothing. I can’t even remember the name of her friend that lives there.”
“Well, does she have any friends or family in Nyssa or Boise?”
“She doesn’t have any family left. But her next door neighbor is a friend and she knows where she is but refuses to tell me. She doesn’t like me very much. She actually slammed the door in my face when I tried talking to her.”
Natalie giggles. “Sorry, but that’s funny. Does she have any other friends?”
“Not that I know of… There’s a policeman who used to be partners with her dad that she’s close to. But I’ve already talked to him. He called her for me, but she told him she didn’t want to talk to me. That’s the only people I know of that she’s close to.”
“I think you’re just going to have to work on this next door neighbor friend of hers.”
“I’ve tried. She’s never home. I don’t think she’d answer the door even if she was home.”
“Well, you’re just going to have to keep trying. Catch her at home and knock until you drive her crazy and she has to open the door.”
“Yeah, then she’ll call the cops on me.”
“True. Or you could maybe write her a note or something explaining the situation and stick it in her door.”
Color of Forgiveness Page 5
