I smile, relieved, as he comes back inside for more barbeque sauce. I hand him the bottle, then pull him into a deep kiss.
“What was that for?” he asks. “Not that I’m complaining.”
“I’m just so happy to have you home; that’s all.”
Chapter 20
My parents arrive, and I can tell they’re worried. When they see Ryan, my dad’s face lights up, and he goes to the grill with him, where they each get a beer. Meanwhile, my mom helps me with the food, putting it out on the table in the yard. The kids are fighting about something stupid, and I have to tell them to stop. Isabella helps set the table, while Damian goes into the yard to throw his ball. My dad goes to play with him, and soon they are tumbling around out there, laughing loudly. I enjoy watching them and turn to look at Ryan. He is smiling at me while drinking his beer. I smile back.
We eat, and it all feels really good and amazing and just the way it is supposed to be. Me and my family. All together. Even Rosie, our dog, is enjoying this, sitting by Ryan’s feet, probably hoping some food will drop.
My dad and Ryan talk football while my mom tells me about a book she read recently that I really ought to read.
I’m not really listening. I’m trying just to enjoy the moment. It’s harder than I thought, and I wonder why. It’s because of that thought that won’t stop nagging me.
Why did he lie? He could have told me he was picking up his stuff at Ted’s. He didn’t have to lie.
“So, you’re doing well again? You and Ryan?” she then asks.
I smile. “We are.”
“That’s good. You don’t seem very happy, though,” she says. “You’re distant. Is something wrong?”
“No, no, everything is just fine. I’m just a little tired; that’s all.”
I smile again, wider this time, trying to seem sincere. Ryan and my dad are discussing loudly now, and I can tell Ryan is getting agitated. They have moved on to politics, and they never can agree on that. Ryan is drinking more beers and seems to get more and more tense. I worry this might end badly. I don’t want it to. We were doing so well.
By the time they finally leave, Ryan is drunk and can barely stand still on his feet as we say our goodbyes. As soon as they’re gone, Ryan goes back into the yard and sits on a chair, then continues to drink. I start cleaning up, then put the kids to bed. I know he’s just drinking more while I do all this, and as I come back out, I am worried.
“I’m going to bed now,” I say. “Are you coming?”
He pauses for a long time, then places the bottle in front of his lips and takes another sip.
“Why did you call today?”
“What do you mean?” I ask. “Am I not allowed to call you?”
“You called me while I was at the center. You never do that. Were you checking up on me?”
I shake my head. I’m tired, and I sense he just wants to fight. I don’t want to. I want to sleep. I want to get by for one day without us fighting.
“No. I wanted to make sure you had time to do the spareribs,” I say.
“Your parents think I’m cheating on you,” he says.
I frown. This sounds odd in my ears.
“They said that?”
He drinks again. “No, but I can tell. The way they look at me. Did you tell them I’ve been cheating on you?”
I shake my head again. “No. I would never say anything like that to them.”
He stares at me, beer bottle clutched in his hand. I feel like he’s getting himself worked up, and I want to end it. I fear he’s gonna get in the truck and drive somewhere in his condition or that he’ll go out drinking all night with his buddies. I fear he’ll leave and not come back for days again.
“I’m…I’ll go to bed now,” I say.
“You do that,” he answers, pointing the beer bottle at me. “Go to bed and get your beauty sleep.”
I turn around, closing my eyes briefly. I want to ask him if he’s coming. If he’ll be up later, but I don’t dare. He’s in that mood where he’s just looking for a chance to hurt me or get angry. I am not giving it to him.
So, I leave without a word.
I wake up to the sound of a truck roaring to life. I jump out of bed just in time to see him take off in his black truck. I feel awful. The man is plastered. He might hit someone.
I have to stop him.
I go to Isabella’s room and wake her up. I tell her I need to leave for a few minutes and to watch out for her brother.
“Where are you going?” she asks.
I give her a look, and she knows not to ask anymore. I rush out of there as I open the app on my phone and hope it’ll tell me where he’s heading. It does. It tells me he’s driving toward the north housing area, and I follow him in the minivan. He stops at an address, and a minute later, I drive up in front of the house. I stay out there for a few minutes, wondering what he’s doing, who he is visiting. It’s the same address where I saw him earlier in the day. He’s in there for at least fifteen minutes before he comes stumbling out and almost trips over his own feet in the grass before he takes off. I debate whether or not to follow him again, but then curiosity gets the better of me. I’ve been wondering about this all day, ever since I knew he was in there. Who lives in that house? Is it Ted? Or is it someone else?
I get out, then sneak up to the front door and look for a name. It’s not hard to find. Kenopensky, it says, right by the doorbell. I breathe a sigh of great relief. It is Ted’s house. So, Ryan was actually just picking up his stuff earlier, and he was probably just asking Ted if he wanted to go out just now. I am so relieved I can feel it physically as I turn to walk back to the car. But as I do, out of the corner of my eye, I see something that makes me stop.
I move closer to be certain I am not just imagining things and look in through the window. In there, in the middle of the living room, I see something that stops my heart.
A pair of dangling legs.
Chapter 21
I can’t breathe; I struggle to stand still while waiting for the Security Forces to arrive. I’ve called them, but don’t know what to say once they get here. I am freaking out.
What do I do?
They arrive less than five minutes later. Two SP officers on night duty come up to me. I tell them what I’ve seen, that there’s a set of dangling legs in the living room, and they look inside for themselves. They grab the door handle and realize it’s open, then rush inside. I follow them, bracing myself for what I will find in there.
As I lay eyes on Ted dangling from the ceiling, I break down and cry. Tears well up in my eyes as I stare at his face while they struggle to cut him down. His lifeless body slumps to the ground, rag-doll limp. One of the SP officers feels for a pulse but doesn’t find it. He shakes his head at his colleague, and they call for the ambulance.
They take my statement. I’m not even sure what I’m saying anymore. I tell them I was out driving and saw there was a light on in the house, then spotted the legs. I’m lying through my teeth, or at least withholding vital information, and I don’t know why. Why don’t I tell them my husband was in there just a minute before I called? Why don’t I tell them I followed him here?