Perry’s expression is blank, almost dreamy. Ada looks bothered.
“I hope that’s not an omen,” Ada says.
“I wonder what they’re doing,” Perry muses softly.
“Oh good, you’re still here,” Daniel says, walking into the kitchen with a newspaper under his arm, maybe the only person alive who still reads them. He breaks up the weird vibes, with all of us snapping to attention.
He puts the newspaper down and stares at us, like he has something to say.
Then he looks at me.
I can’t read his expression, but I can feel what he’s carrying in him.
Worry and fear.
But he doesn’t know what we’re up to tonight, unless Ada has told him.
“Dex,” he says, grabbing the coffee pot and pouring himself a cup. “You’re good at gardening, right?”
Perry snorts. “Dad, have you met Dex?”
But what Perry isn’t picking up on, what she should be picking up on, is that the conversation is a ruse.
“I know some things,” I tell him, and god help me if I’m wrong about this because I know shit-all. I’ve had numerous marijuana plants over the years, and they’ve all died. Probably because I didn’t water them. Look, I can barely take care of myself.
“Perhaps you can tell me what’s wrong with the fig tree in the back yard,” he says, walking across the kitchen with his cup of coffee, gesturing with his head to the sliding doors in the living room.
“Uh, yeah, I can do that,” I say, avoiding the rapid-fire looks that Ada and Perry are shooting me.
I get up and follow Daniel, my palms sweating.
I feel like I’m in trouble.
Like I’ve done something wrong.
He’s about to go all Italian mafia on my ass, isn’t he?
I’m out of the family, just like that.
We step through the doors and onto the patio, the floor cold and damp through my socks. He slides the door closed behind us.
What are you doing? Perry comes into my head, but I just shut my eyes for a moment, booting her back out.
“You okay, Dex?” Daniel asks.
I look at him, giving him a quick smile. “Oh fine. Just a bit concerned you might be plotting to murder me and have a quick burial.”
I expected him to laugh at that, or at least smile, but he doesn’t do either.
“Here’s the thing,” he says. “This isn’t about the fig tree.”
“You mean that fig tree?” I ask, pointing to a small one in a large white pot.
He glances over his shoulder at it. “Yes.”
“Well I can tell you one thing, you need to plant it soon. It won’t do too well in a pot.”
He frowns at me. “So you do know how to garden?”
Honestly, I’m just making shit up. I shrug. “So, what is this about, if not about figs?”
He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose before adjusting his glasses. “Okay. You have to promise me you won’t tell Ada or Perry about this.”
Oh no. I’m being sworn to secrecy. That’s not the easiest thing around my wife.
I swallow. “You know, I’m not the best with secrets.”
“Then you’ll have to try, alright?” He says sternly.
“Yes, sir.”
“I’ve been having…visions.”
“Visions? Like…of the Virgin Mary?”
“No,” he says sharply. “You know I’m not a priest, right? Anyway.”
“Right, right. The visions.”
“You’re going to think I’m crazy, but I keep seeing Ingrid.”
My heart goes still. Perry’s mother.
“That’s not a crazy thing,” I try to reassure him. “That’s normal.”
“It’s not normal,” he says, a wild spark in his eyes. He’s shaking his head. “She keeps telling me the same thing over and over again. Like she’s stuck on repeat. I see her before I go to bed at night. I see her in the morning. Sometimes I see her in the middle of the road. Sometimes the mirror. It should be comforting Dex, but it’s not.”
The chills are back, cascading down my spine. Above us, in the misty sky, a flock of birds flies past, chattering and moving as one until they disappear.
I swallow thickly, the cold in the air seeping to my bones. “What, uh, what does she keep saying?”
He stares at nothing for a moment, and even though I’m trying not to pick up on anything, I know he’s waging a war with himself. That he thinks he’s crazy.
“You’re not crazy,” I quickly tell him. “Let’s just settle that right now. And these aren’t just tricks of your mind either. You know by now, you’ve seen enough.”
He grimaces, then nods sharply in agreement. “You’re right. It’s not my mind. But I have to pretend it is, don’t you see? Or I really will lose it. I can’t afford that. I’m all my daughters have left.”
“What is Ingrid saying?” I ask again.
“She keeps saying…don’t let her.”
“Don’t let her what?”
“That’s just it. I don’t know. I’ve asked. I ask and I ask and that’s all she says. She pleads. Don’t let her, don’t let her.”
More chills, the rawness in my father-in-law’s voice.
“And you don’t know who she’s talking about…Perry or Ada?”
He shakes his head. “No,” he says quietly, staring at the ground. Then he glances up at me. “That’s why I told you, Dex. Because I know, no matter who she’s talking about, you’ll be there to protect her. Protect the both of them when you can.”
“I think Jay can look out for Ada,” I tell him. I hate to stick up for him, but I at least believe he protects her and cares for her.
“Nah,” he says dismissively. “I don’t like him.”
“Neither do I, but…your daughter has been dating him for a year.”
“She says they aren’t dating,” he says. “If you can believe it.”
I smile. “Not as tricky as she thinks.” I pause, my stomach starting to feel unsettled. “Do you have any idea at all what your wife would have meant?”
“I really don’t.”
“And you think it’s her?”
Not, like a demon, I finish in my head.
“I don’t know what I think, Dex.”
“And you don’t want to tell them?”
“I don’t want to worry them. Talking about their mother…it’s hard. I know neither of them are okay yet. I know I’m not. I’m not sure when I will be either. I just…I want to keep them safe and in the dark, for as long as I can, until I can figure out what’s going on. But in the meantime…just look out for them, Dex. Look out for Perry. I’ll watch Ada as closely as I can, but only you can protect Perry.” He rubs his lips together, making a face. “I know you have so far.”
“Was that so hard to say?” I ask, half-joking.
He puts his hand on my shoulder. “You love her. I know you do. Just keep loving her, please.”
Good lord. His words are breaking my heart.
“I love her more each morning than I did when I went to sleep.”