Chapter 22

That night, Joshua sought refuge at the most unexpected of places: his parents’ house.

He couldn’t bear to stay home. Unavoidable reminders of Rachel permeated every inch of the house, from the largest elements to the minutest details: from the colors she had elected to paint each room to the silk flower arrangement on the dining room table; from the wedding photographs on the fireplace mantelpiece to the selection of food in the refrigerator.

Even his office, the only room that was exclusively his, was a testament to her influence: she had selected the furniture, her framed bridal portrait leaned on the edge of the desk, and when he switched on his computer, the screen saver was a stunning photo of a volcanic mountain in Hawaii, where they’d honeymooned.

He couldn’t take it any more. He needed to get away from her, away from it—it being the home they had created together. It felt like a giant, living creature to him, in much the same way that houses were often supernaturally alive in haunted house movies; the place was suffocating him, walls pressing in on him from all sides, every photograph taunting him, until his only recourse was to throw some clothes and toiletries into an overnight bag, pack up Coco in her pet carrier, and flee to his parents’ house.

He never would have expected to go to his parents for assistance. His dad wouldn’t be of any help at all, and God knows his mother knew how to bring the drama. But he had never been in a situation like this, and in these bewildering circumstances, he craved familiar places and people. Things he understood. Because he certainly didn’t understand his wife and why she was doing this to them.

He thought of going to Eddie’s, but the idea was short-lived. Eddie would be sympathetic to his plight, but for Joshua, seeing Eddie, his wife, and their young son in their comfortable home, enjoying familial bliss, would be another poignant reminder of everything he worried he was losing.

Driving, Joshua came up with a lie to explain to his mom what was happening: Rachel had gone out of town for a couple days for a hair convention, and he wanted to spend some quality time with his parents. It was the holidays, after all.

He thought his mother might buy the story. He didn’t dare let her know the truth. She’d be so enraged she might decide to hunt down Rachel herself.

His mother answered the door. Although it was only eight o’clock, she was already dressed for bed in her bathrobe, and multicolored rollers bristled from her hair.

Over her shoulder, Joshua saw his dad. As expected, the old man, clad in his pajamas, was dozing in the recliner, ragged snores rumbling from his chest.

Joshua settled on the sofa, placing Coco’s pet carrier beside him.

“What you doin’ here, boy?” Mom asked. “Somethin’ wrong?”

“It’s like this, Mom.” Joshua cleared his throat, and started to spin his story. But she stopped him.

“You been cryin’,” she said. It wasn’t a question.

How did she know? Before leaving the house, he had squeezed a few drops of Visine into his eyes, and in the car, he’d repeatedly checked his eyes in the mirror to make sure they looked clear and normal.

“What are you talking about, Mom? I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.” Standing in front of him, she bunched her fists on her waist. “I’m your mama, boy. I know you, and you been cryin’. What’s wrong?”

Heartache tore through Joshua like a serrated blade. He turned his head, blinked back tears.

“You can talk to me, baby,” Mom said softly. She sat beside him on the sofa. “It’s trouble with your wife, ain’t it?”

“No.” But he couldn’t look at her. Tears hung heavy in his eyes, like lead weights. Why did his mother have to be so damn perceptive?

“I know it is.” Gently, she rubbed his broad back. “Let it out, baby. Let it all out. Mama’s here for you.”

Joshua sucked in a hitching breath. And then, he told her what had happened, leaving out the part about Rachel’s pregnancy. He had promised Rachel he would keep it a secret, and though she was gone, it was important, to him, to keep his word.

“That bitch!” Mom rocketed off the sofa and stormed across the living room. His dad, who normally slept so soundly an atomic bomb blast couldn’t rouse him, opened his eyes and cocked an eyebrow.

“This is why I didn’t want to tell you,” Joshua said. “I didn’t want you to overreact.”

“That low-down, lyin’, dirty bitch!” Eyes blazing, Mom tilted her head back to the ceiling, shrieking so loudly it was as if she wanted Rachel to hear her, wherever she might be on the planet. “Bitch! No-good harlot! How dare she leave my son? How dare she?”

His dad’s eyelids had slid shut. Typical of him—once he confirmed that the uproar had nothing to do with him, he tuned out.

Mom paced heavily across the room. In her rage, the belt of her robe had come unloosened, her nightgown flapping as she moved back and forth.

“I told you that woman was low-down, boy, I been tellin’ you from the beginning that she was no good. Black-hearted heifer!”

“Mom, please calm down.”

“What kinda woman leaves a good husband behind? You’re a good man.” Mom snatched a tissue from a box of Kleenex on the cocktail table and honked into it.

“I’m going to work this out,” Joshua said. “It’s going to be fine, Mom. Trust me.”

“Trust you?” Mom crumpled the tissue in her meaty fist, teary eyes burning. “I trusted you not to marry that bitch heifer in the first place. Now look what happened. She’s done run off with another man!”

“Another man? What?”

Mom glared at him with fanatical conviction. “She ain’t runnin’ scared from somebody like she want you to believe. She’s runnin’ off with somebody. The same dog she’s been sleepin’ around with from the very beginning—dogs run in packs, baby. They run in packs.”

“Mom, that’s just crazy. Rachel would never cheat on me. I know her better than that.”

Mom sneered. “Just like you knew you and her would always be together, ain’t that right?”

Chastened, Joshua bowed his head.

But his mother had raised an idea that he’d never considered. Could Rachel have left him for another man? Could her letter have been a total fabrication to fool him while she ran off with some guy?

The thought was so painful it nearly made him ill.

No, it’s bullshit. Rachel loves me—I know that. She wasn’t cheating on me, and she hasn’t left me for another man. I don’t believe it.

But he hadn’t believed that she would leave him, either, and she had done it, hadn’t she? How could he really know what she was doing, and why? He’d thought they shared a soul connection, and he wanted, desperately, to believe it. But doubts were growing in him like cancerous tumors.

Mom came to the sofa and sat beside him again. She patted his hand.

“It’s gonna be alright, baby. You with Mama now.”

“I just . . . I don’t know what to think. I don’t know what to do.”

“You ain’t gonna want to hear this.” She held his hand. “But you need to let her go.”

“Let her go? But we’re married, we exchanged vows. I can’t just walk away.”

She leveled her thick finger at him. “Get this straight, boy: she walked away from you. And let me tell you—ain’t no judge in divorce court gonna give a damn thing to a woman that’s done run out on her husband to be with another man. You’ll get to keep the house, if you want it.”

“You’re way ahead of me. I’m not thinking about divorce.”

“You better start thinkin’ ‘bout it. ‘Cause she ain’t comin’ back.”

“But she promised she would.”

Mom shook her head sadly, as if he were a mentally challenged child.

“You’re a good man,” she said. “You deserve a woman who appreciates you.” She glanced at Coco in the pet carrier, mouth twisted with contempt. “Not some heifer who’ll leave you high and dry, and then expect you to take care of her pissy little rat dog.”

In the kennel, Coco whimpered. His mother had always despised the dog, probably because she belonged to Rachel.

“I’m going to take things one day at a time,” he said. “That’s about all I can do right now.”

“You welcome to stay here as long as you want. You eat dinner?”

“I’m not hungry.” Although he hadn’t eaten anything since earlier that afternoon, stress had stolen his appetite.

“You need to eat somethin’.” She shuffled toward the kitchen. “I’m gonna heat up them chicken and dumplins. Go on and put your stuff in your bedroom. I’ll get the bed ready in a bit.”

He sighed. When she was in mothering mode, there was no stopping her. “Okay, Mom.”

“And take that little rat dog outside to pee ‘fore you let it out that cage. If it pisses on my carpet, we gonna have a problem.”

“Yes, Mom.”

From the kitchen doorway, Mom smiled at him. “In spite of what’s done happened, it’s real good to have you home again, baby.”

Joshua smiled blandly, and happened to look at his father. His dad’s eyes were shut, but he was shaking his head, as if to say: How pathetic. My grown-ass son has moved back home.

Joshua vowed to himself that he wouldn’t be there for long. One night, two at the most.

By then, if not sooner, he hoped to have an idea of what to do about Rachel.