Chapter 15

I DIDN’T ENTER MY apartment so much as I burst through the back door.

The sudden intrusion was enough to make Michael jump out of his chair.

“You scared the crap out me, Bec!”

I dropped the art bag to the floor, leaned today’s ‘See’ painting up against yesterday’s ‘Listen’ painting, then made a beeline for the kitchen. I made it back into the living room along with two open bottles of Corona, set one of them down besides Michael’s laptop.

“Work’s over.”

“Yes ma’am.” He grabbed hold of the bottle. “Nail officially bitten.”

I took a long pull of the beer and felt the cool carbonation against the back of my throat, the magic of the alcohol calming me.

Michael closed his laptop and sat back in his chair.

“Explanation.”

I put myself back beside the ‘See’ painting. “This happened.”

Stealing another sip of beer, Michael got up from his desk. He approached the painting with squinty, focused eyes, the fingers on his right hand smoothing out his mustache. After a time, he nodded, cocked his head toward one shoulder, then the other as if to carefully choose his words.

“This is what I see,” he said. “I see Franny’s version of a rural landscape.” He tossed me a glance. “But I’m guessing you’re seeing something inside the landscape that I’m not.”

I took another drink and bit my bottom lip.

“Yes,” I said. “And no.”

“Which is it, Bec?”

I gazed down at the painting, used extended index finger to point to a specific area of tall grass that appeared to be swaying in the wind.

“There’s a word in there,” I said. “See… S-e-e.”

He stood back as though to gain a different perspective. It was not unlike the way someone might look at their own image in a funhouse mirror. He dug into his pocket for his Chapstick. He uncapped it, ran it across his lips, capped it back up and returned it to his pocket.

“Ah, don’t you think you’re stretching it a little?”

He thought I was bonkers. No two ways about it.

I started to cry.

Setting the ‘See’ canvas back down against the ‘Listen’ canvas, I stormed into the kitchen, pulled a paper towel off the rack, dried my eyes, and blew my nose.

I heard Michael doing something out in the living room. Was he looking at the ‘See’ painting? I could only guess that it had to be the case.

After about a minute, he met me in the kitchen and placed his now empty beer bottle in the sink. He stood over me, looking me in the eye.

“In the tall grass,” he said. “The rays of sunshine, burning patterns into the grass. You look close enough, you make out the word ‘See.’ It’s not completely obvious, but it’s there.”

I felt a spark of hope. But then, maybe he was just playing along with me. Making me feel better.

“No kidding,” he said. “You have a keen eye. That’s your job after all. I see it. More than I saw the word ‘Listen’ yesterday.”

He leaned into me, wrapping his arms around me. First time in a long time.

“You’re not nuts,” he said. “But…”

It was one of those ominous dangling ‘Buts.’

“But what?”

He released me and looked into my wet face.

“We’re not married anymore, but I still love you. Because I love you and still want to be near you, I also know you’ve been holding out on me.” He crossed his arms over his chest, brown eyes peering down at the floor. “Truth is Bec, I’ve sensed for a long time that you’ve been holding out on me.”

Drying my eyes again, I bit down on my bottom lip. Oh God Mol, what do I do now?

I wanted her to talk to me, send me a sign, let me know it was okay if I revealed the secret to Michael. For a second or two I waited for my cell phone to chime. But that was stupid. There would be no text messages from heaven. The decision to tell Michael everything would have to come from me and me alone. It had been thirty years since the assault on Molly and me. Thirty years that I—we—had held onto a secret that by now had bored a hole in my heart. Now that secret was consuming me with paranoia, making me nuts.

Molly was gone now.

So were my mother and father.

Who would it hurt if I spilled everything to someone I trusted?

No one.

Not a soul other than those who had already vanished from my life.

My decision made, I looked up at my ex-husband and gave him a glare that might have melted those brown eyes if only they were made of ice.

“You’d better plan on staying for dinner tonight.”