Missing Pieces. Heather Gudenkauf

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      “They probably have to ask those kinds of questions when there’s an accident in the home,” Sarah said, though she wasn’t quite so sure and didn’t want to let on to Hal that it worried her. “What did you say?”

      “I told her what I just told you. That she’s been stumbling a lot lately. I mean, hell, so have I. We’re getting older.

      “The social worker said someone reported that the fall might not have been an accident, after all. Why would someone say such an awful thing?” he asked incredulously, rubbing the sharp gray stubble on his chin, his blue eyes clouded with worry.

      “What did Dean and Amy say? Did the social worker talk to them, too?”

      “Just to me, I think. I haven’t told anyone. I didn’t want to bother them with it.” He shifted in his seat, pulled out a white, linen handkerchief from his pocket and smoothed it with his blunt fingers. “Do you think we should be concerned?”

      “I think you should tell them. Tell Jack. They can help you talk to the social worker,” Sarah advised, and Hal said that he would.

      “It really helps having family here,” he said, and crossed one leg over his knee, his heavy brown work boot weathered with age and toil. “I know Jack doesn’t like coming back here.”

      “He wanted to come. We wanted to be here for you and Julia.” Sarah reached out and patted Hal’s knee and he covered Sarah’s hand with his own.

      “Well, I can’t tell you how much it helps,” he said, and cleared his throat. For a moment Sarah wondered if she should seize the opportunity to ask Hal about Jack, about the ghost of his father he thought he saw earlier. But instead she allowed silence to fall between them.

      * * *

      For the next hour Sarah sat in the waiting room while Jack’s family took turns sitting with Julia. Hal was the last and after what felt like aeons he finally emerged from the room, haggard and weary.

      “I think we’re all tired,” Dean said, pushing himself up from his seat with difficulty. “Maybe we should all go home and get some rest. The nurses will call if there’s any change.”

      “What if she wakes up?” Hal asked, twisting his hat in his hands. “She’ll be scared if she wakes up and no one is here.”

      “Everyone can stay at our house,” Dean said. “We’re close enough to the hospital that we can get here quickly if she wakes up. Jack, you and Sarah are welcome to stay with us. We’ve got the room.”

      Jack rubbed the shadow of bristle that had grown on his chin. “I don’t think that’s the best idea, Dean.”

      “No shit,” Amy muttered from her seat.

      “Be quiet, Amy,” Dean said, tossing a magazine onto the coffee table. It slid across the surface and fluttered to the floor.

      “Fuck you, Dean,” Amy snapped.

      “Whoa, settle down,” Celia interjected.

      “Amy,” Jack pleaded. “Please don’t.”

      “Really, Jack?” Amy’s tone softened, the anger replaced with hurt. “You think that coming back here after twenty years is going to make everything okay?”

      “None of this is good for Julia and that’s who we need to be worrying about,” Jack said. “Hal, why don’t you stay at Dean and Celia’s tonight? Sarah and I will get a hotel room.”

      “What’s the matter, Jack?” Amy asked archly. “You don’t want to spend a night in the house of horrors?”

      “Amy, just shut the hell up.” Dean’s face flushed with anger.

      “What do you mean, house of horrors?” Sarah asked before she could stop herself. Up until then she had uncomfortably watched the tense exchange in silence. She didn’t really know Jack’s family, didn’t understand their dynamics, and it was clear that it was better for her to stay out of it.

      “Never mind,” Jack said sharply, and Hal lowered his face into his hands.

      “Please don’t fight. Not here.”

      “You’re right,” Jack said. “You should get some sleep. We can take you back to your house.”

      “Stay with me,” Hal insisted. “It’s silly for you to stay in a hotel. I want to sleep in my own bed, but I can’t stand the thought of going home to an empty house. Please stay.”

      “Sure, Hal,” Jack said soothingly. “We’ll stay at your house.” To Dean he said, “Thanks for the offer, but it would be strange staying in the old house.”

      Why would it be strange? Sarah wondered. And what did Amy mean by “house of horrors”? It brought to Sarah’s mind an image of chain saws and rubber knives, a silly Halloween gag. And yet the words lingered in her thoughts. Was Amy just being dramatic, like Jack said she always was, or was there more to it than that? And why had Jack brushed her off when she asked about it?

      She wanted to believe that he’d meant nothing by it, that he was merely trying to keep his family from combusting. But she had a sinking feeling that there was more to it than that. Jack was keeping something from her.

3

      THE AUTOMATIC DOORS that led out to the parking lot slid open with an airy hum. A steady rain was falling and the lights that edged the parking lot illuminated the wet pavement, giving it a glossy, slick sheen. Fat raindrops sent ripples through standing puddles and the temperature had dropped ten degrees since they arrived in Penny Gate.

      As Sarah and Jack walked through the quiet parking lot toward their rental car, Sarah wrapped her coat tightly around herself, chilled to the bone, the icy rain drenching her hair. Confusion and questions bounced around in her mind like a Ping-Pong ball. Sarah waited until they were out of Hal’s earshot before speaking.

      “Jack, what did Amy mean by ‘house of horrors’?”

      Jack slid his hands into his pockets and Sarah tried to keep up, the slap of their footfalls echoing throughout the nearly deserted parking lot. “I really don’t want to talk about this right now.”

      She tried to keep any accusation from her voice, any irritation. She wanted to give Jack the benefit of the doubt, but she could hear the reproach in her voice. Jack sped up as if trying to avoid her.

      “Jack, wait,” she said, snagging his sleeve to try to get him to slow down, and he shook her away.

      By the time they reached the car, both of them were soaked, their hair flattened, raindrops dripping from their noses. Jack unlocked the doors and they climbed in. He placed the key in the ignition, and Sarah reached over and put her hand over his. “Jack, talk to me. Please.”

      Jack pulled his hand away and sat back in his seat. “There isn’t anything to say. You know Amy. She’s exhausted, Aunt Julia is hurt and Amy’s scared. Everything becomes one big drama and she lashes out.”

      Jack turned the key and the СКАЧАТЬ