sixty-nine

Parking is always a challenge in Clayton. I circled several blocks, got turned around, tried for a parking garage, discovered it was full, and finally zipped into a space as a man was pulling out. By eleven-thirty I was seated at an outdoor table on the Chou-Chou patio. My budget couldn’t absorb the cost of a lunch at such a pricey eatery, so I nursed a glass of iced tea, figuring I’d make it up to the waiter by leaving him a big tip.

The day was warm for May, but not so hot as to be uncomfortable. By June only the heartiest of the outdoor patrons would want to sit outside. Although pregnancy had turned my thermostat to pre-heat, as long as I could sip the tea, I could stand the sun beating down on me.

By the time one o’clock rolled around, I’d gotten up to tinkle four times. The waiter kept asking me, “Are you ready to order?”

I kept saying, “I’m waiting for a friend.” Of course, we weren’t friends—and the waiter was quickly turning into a sworn enemy—but that was beside the point.

I’d requested my bill when Cherise and two other girls walked in. All of the young men at the bar turned to admire the trio. One was a pretty blonde who wore a sleeveless wrap dress in shades of orange that showed off a wonderful tan. The other a dishwater blonde whose cap-sleeved, A-line dress in a pink pastel cotton was totally businesslike but also appropriate for summery weather. Several sets of silver bracelets jangled as Cherise tugged at the long sleeves of her light-blue cardigan paired with a gray skirt. She’d pulled her long auburn hair into a loose bun that was very flattering.

After they sat down and ordered glasses of wine, I tucked a ten dollar bill under my glass and approached their table. The blonde in orange was telling a funny story, but she stopped and frowned at my intrusion.

“Cherise? My name’s Kiki. You came into the store where I work to talk with Dodie Goldfader. I was wondering if I could have a moment in private.”

The girls took in my gray dress and my growing bump of a belly and said nothing.

Cherise nervously fingered her wine glass and took a long drink, nearly draining it. “Okay, sure, but I can’t talk for long. We’re having lunch. Lisa? Order the Cobb salad for me. No dressing, okay?”

We walked inside the restaurant, trying to get our bearings the way you do when you leave the light and move into darkness. A booth in the back was open, but dirty. It would work for our purposes. I led the way. We sat down, and I made sure her back was to the door. I figured if her friends came looking for her, she’d have a reason to bolt.

Cherise twirled and twirled her glass of wine. A slight stain of dark burgundy was all that remained in the bowl-shaped bottom.

I figured it best to jump right in. “Dodie Goldfader has cancer. It’s gone to her brain. She’s dying. We think she only has a few months.”

“Oh!” Cherise jerked her head up to look at me. When she satisfied herself that I was telling the truth, she mumbled, “That’s too bad,” and held up one finger to order another glass of wine.

“She wants closure. About Nathan. I told her I’d try to get answers for her.” I took a deep breath. “I’m not here to judge you or anything like that. It’s just that … well … why did you say what you did? About his death being your fault?”

Her body language changed. Cherise began to scoot out of the booth. I grabbed at her forearm. “Wait! She’s dying! Can’t you help her! You must want to!”

Cherise’s eyes traveled to where I gripped her wrist. “Let go of me.”

I pulled my hand away but as I did, I saw the marks. Her bracelets barely covered them. They were fine, white, and crisscrossing her wrist.

“You’re cutting yourself, aren’t you?”

“What business is it of yours?” she sank back into the booth and glared at me.

“My daughter’s friend does that. We took her to the hospital last night.”

“So?”

“So, I know you hurt inside. I know that hurting on the outside is easier. That when you cut, there’s a release.”

She looked away. The waiter hurried over with her second glass of wine. “You want anything, ma’am?” he asked me. I shook my head no.

Cherise took a big swallow of her wine. “Yeah, that’s how it works. Sort of.”

“How long have you been doing this?”

“Off and on since eleventh grade.”

“It must be hard … to have all those feelings inside.”

She shrugged. “It got worse after Nathan … died.”

“Why don’t you tell me about it? No one can overhear us. I’m a good listener.” I shut up.

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“Has to be. Otherwise it wouldn’t bug you so much.” I channeled Piers Morgan. “So he had a big crush on you. He was probably the smallest guy in your class. A nerd but nice. Probably got teased a lot. You were used to guys having crushes on you. You had a boyfriend. For some reason, you invited Nathan to come along that night.”

Her mouth quivered. “My boyfriend Spenser thought it would be funny. A joke. Like Nathan was a mascot or something.”

“You picked up a case of beer. Jeff Horton had a hot car, and he loved showing it off. He drove all of you to the gravel pit that was supposed to be haunted. The moon was full. One of the boys suggested jumping off the cliff. He’d done it before, but during daylight. You were all a little drunk. It sounded like fun.”

Her glass was empty. She wore the dazed look of a dreamer. “See, Spense and Jeff were on the swim team. Spense is the state record holder in the IM, individual medley. Jeff was a diver and did the last leg of the relay. Nathan didn’t want to jump. The boys laughed and told him not to be such a wimp. Jeff got a flashlight out of his car and told me to hold it so they could climb up. They jumped twice. Tiffany and I thought it was cool, seeing them against that big orange moon. Nathan was getting tired. Spense and Jeff were in great shape, but then, they were on the swim team, so sure. Spense was getting jealous because each time that Nathan went off the cliff, I told him Nathan jumped the farthest out. That wasn’t true. I mean, I knew that would honk Spense off. He always thought he was such a big man.”

The waiter brought her one more glass. I worried about how much she’d had to drink, but I reasoned her friends would look after her. Just like I was trying to look after Dodie.

“Spense said let’s go again. Nathan said he didn’t want to. Jeff said come on. And I said, please, Nathan, please do it for me.”

In the dim light of the restaurant, I watched twin half-moons of silver tears form in Cherise’s eyes. “If I hadn’t encouraged him, he would never had jumped. He was too tired. He knew it. I knew it, but I liked having that power over him, you know? So it really was my fault. I killed Nathan Goldfader.”