Dee puts the last of her clothes into the large pine armoire and sits on the bed. She runs her hand over the antique ringed quilt, her conversation with Dick on her mind. It all happened so long ago yet feels so close. Though Joe’s been gone over twelve years, he’s never far from her thoughts, and last night, he wove in and out of her dreams—eternally young and haunting. She felt his touch, his lips, his breath, then startled awake as the gunshot blast reverberated in her mind. She cried out, then pulled the sheets to her mouth to muffle the sound of her sobs.
How many times has she relived that moment? Joe on Otis’s stoop, his head on her lap as the life ran out of him. Her skirt was hunter green with small white dots. Her shirt, her favorite at the time, was pale pink. Joe wore his Rams T-shirt and jeans. The rifle, her dad’s, was still in his hand.
It’s in the cellar now, along with a tin of bullets. These past two days, she’s thought a lot about climbing down to get it and finishing what Joe started, knocking on Otis’s door, then backing up to make room for the barrel, and when he answered, pulling the trigger. Bang! The jarring sound of her nightmares becoming the thing of dreams.
Otis served twelve years for what he did to Ed. She wonders how long she would serve for killing him.
What stops her of course is Jesse—her forever light no matter how deep the darkness. Strange how her greatest tragedy led to her greatest gift, and that it was Joe’s killer who gave it to her. Twisted and disturbing, it aches when she thinks of it. But she also knows there’s no explaining some things and, deep down, believes Joe had a hand in it, that he saw her suffering and found a way to nudge destiny to help her move on.
At first, Doug only stopped by to check on her, guilt compelling him to see if she was okay or needed anything. He hadn’t meant to shoot Joe but, when he saw Otis’s door opening, reflexively pulled the trigger. He was twenty-three and had been a deputy less than a month. He thought he was responding to a missing kid call and wasn’t prepared for what he drove into.
Dee lied and said she didn’t blame him. He lied and told her none of it was her fault. They drank a lot. They wallowed. He quit his job. She dropped out of school. They clung to each other like life rings, and six months after Joe died, she discovered she was pregnant.
The next day, she told Doug it was over. She didn’t tell him about the baby, but instead told him it would be better for her if he moved back to Texas, where he was from. It was time for them to get on with their lives. Already, Jesse was her moon, her sun, and her stars, the only thing that mattered, and she knew what she had with Doug wasn’t real or healthy.
Opening her eyes, she stares at the dust mites dancing in the late afternoon light. And now, twelve years later, the nightmare has returned. Only this time, it is Jesse who is in danger, and if something happens to him, she knows she won’t recover.
Bang! How easy it would be.
Her thoughts drift to Dick. He doesn’t look good. His skin is pale, and his body stooped. He’s smoking too much and not eating well. Caroline and the divorce did a number on him, and she’s worried he’s spending too much time alone. She should have made more of an effort to visit or to invite him to spend more time here with her and Jesse.
Ten years is a big gap between siblings, yet they are close. Her mom died the day she was born, so growing up, it was just her, Dick, and their dad. And until Dick went to college, he was the one who mostly raised her. He was the one who did the shopping and cooking, was the one who bathed her, helped her with her homework, and made sure she brushed her teeth. “Give your teeth a treat. Up and down and all around, keep them clean and neat!”
She used the same rhyme with Jesse when he was little. Dick did with her all the things their mom had done with him, and he took the responsibility seriously.
Until he left.
She knows she shouldn’t blame him for that. He had a right to make a life for himself. But it didn’t stop her from feeling abandoned. He only came home a few days each year at Christmas and rarely called. Part of it was money. Long-distance calls were expensive, so were plane tickets. But it was more than that. It was like he had escaped. He was in college and finally among people who were smart like him. A butterfly burst from his cocoon, Independence no longer fit.
Even after Joe died, he stayed away. He called, and knowing it’s what he wanted to hear, she lied and told him she was fine. He missed coming home for Christmas that year, and he missed Jesse’s birth.
The next time she saw him was almost a year later at their dad’s funeral.
She rubs her knuckles against her chest to rub out the hurt.
He’s here now. And that’s what matters. And he is going to fix this.
The problem is this isn’t a mathematical equation and devils like Otis don’t fight fair, and she’s worried Dick—her earnest, good brother—doesn’t stand a chance.