It Isn't Cheating if He's Dead (22 page)

Two hours later, seven boxes were packed
and sealed. Some for Dean, some for the shelter, and some for the dump. The basement
should be empty, but it was still cluttered with five years of their mixed
lives, and four of her solitary one.

She needed more boxes.

Her cell phone rang. She ran up the stairs
and snatched it from the kitchen table. “Hello?”

“You’re out of breath. Everything okay?”

Every fiber of her body relaxed at the
sound of Finn’s deep voice. His presence, the mere thought of him, the smell of
his skin. That was where she lived now. Where she needed to be. “Yeah, had to
run up the stairs to get the phone. Out of shape I guess.”

“I have to come over. Now.”

“Insatiable.” She drew out the syllables in
a sing-song voice and leaned one shoulder against the wall.

“No, not that. I have some information.
About Joseph.”

She straightened. “What? Tell me.”

“I have to show you in person. It’s a lot.”

“All right. So hurry up.”

She ended the call and turned to head back
downstairs. Gerald’s write-on/wipe-off calendar stopped her in her tracks.
Before she could second-guess the  decision, she peeled the laminated sheet
from the wall. Years-old double-sided tape pulled paint and a layer of drywall
with it. She rolled the calendar into a tight cylinder and bent it over her
knee, like she was breaking a stick. She shoved the calendar into the garbage
bin, pushed it down as far as it would go. When she pulled her hand out of the
bin, her engagement ring slid past her knuckles. She made a fist before it
slipped from her finger and into the trash.

She really had lost weight. She took the
ring off and held it up to the light, then held out her ring-free left hand. A
white band of skin remained, indented where the gold band had lived for six
years. She shook her head. Why had she kept herself shackled to a dead man?

A car pulled up out front and the engine
cut. She peered out through the sheer drape of the front door. Finn. She
slipped the ring into the front pocket of her shorts and opened the door.

 Finn climbed the stairs, a file in his
hand. “Regina finally got back to Anders.” He brushed past her and headed
straight for the kitchen.

“Whoa, not even a hello?”

Finn spilled papers and photos out of the
manila folder and onto the table. “Hello,” he said, one eyebrow lifted. He
sifted through the mess and pulled out a photo. “You want to see the details?”

She crossed her arms. “I don’t know what
the details are yet.”

“Sorry.” He took a deep breath and handed
her the eight-by-ten photo.

A crumpled SUV, shattered glass, a light standard
where the engine should be. The passenger side was crushed, airbags deployed
and lying flaccid amid the wreckage. Glass and airbags were stained crimson.

“What is this?”

“Joseph’s vehicle. After the accident.”

She gasped, her gaze shifted from the
picture to Finn. “How did he survive?”

“The passenger side took the worst of it.
He was cut up pretty bad, concussion. Could have been worse. Should have been
worse.” He sifted through the papers and pulled out another picture.

Joe sat on a hospital gurney. His eyes,
dull and vacant, stared past the camera. Blood from a deep gash above his right
eye covered most of his face and stained the front of his shirt. His arms were
a roadmap of cuts and slashes.

“I’ve seen those scars. But what does the
accident have to do with him being in the park?”

Finn retrieved another photo from the
table. “This is his wife.”

She took the photo, her eyes locked on Finn’s.
Two deep breaths and she shifted her gaze to the picture. Her knees went weak
and nausea rolled up her throat. “Oh, shit.”

Finn took the picture and turned it face
down on the table. “She was crushed. Most of her bones shattered. Joe managed
to get free of the wreckage and tried to pull her out the broken window, tried
to rescue her. It wouldn’t have mattered if he’d succeeded, she wouldn't have
made it. Fire and rescue used the Jaws of Life to cut her out.” He shifted on
his feet and reached for Jem’s hand. “She never regained consciousness. Joe
watched her die in the ICU.”

“Oh, poor Joe.” Tears streamed down her
cheeks.

“It was the hospital that reported him
missing.”

“The hospital?”

“After she died he went mute. He wouldn’t
speak. He just left. Slipped out without anyone noticing. No one’s seen him
since.”

“But why does the hospital care where he is?
Why hasn’t family come forward?”

“Only child, parents both dead.” He flipped
through pages held in a file with a metal clip. “No close relatives, only
distant cousins who didn’t even know he was missing.” He tossed the file onto
the table. “Jem, she was pregnant. Full term.”

“He lost his wife and child at one time? No
wonder he doesn’t care if he’s found.”

“No, that’s not it. You see, he doesn’t
know.” He glanced at the ceiling and emptied his lungs. “Jem, he has a daughter.
They saved the baby.”

“Oh my God. Oh my God.” She shook her hands
and paced the floor, then wheeled around. “We have to tell him. He needs to
know.”

“Yes. But we need to take this slow. That news
could send him into shock.”

“Yes, yes. Of course. I should call Sid.
Get a professional to help with this.” Her eyes darted around the room, her
mind raced, she paced the floor. Then she stopped short and looked at Finn. “When
did this all happen? How old is she?”

“It was November last year. She’s barely
eight months old.”

She nodded. “November. That’s when Joe went
missing.” The baby would be too young to remember, to be scarred by the
separation from a father she’d never met. “Where is she?”

“Well, here’s where it gets complicated.”
He sat at the table. “His brother-in-law, his wife’s brother, has been given
temporary custody of the baby. He’s filed for adoption based on the assumption
of parental abandonment.”

“Abandonment? Joe never would have left if
he’d known.”

“Exactly. And a full year has to pass for a
court to agree to classify it as abandonment. I’m sure there’s more to this,
but that’s all we have right now. Anders had no luck contacting the
brother-in-law.”

“I’ll call him. I’m Joe’s attorney.”

“This guy might think Joe is dead. Or
insane. Either way, a call out of the blue from his lawyer might not be the
best plan. Especially since Joe doesn’t even know you’re officially
representing him.”

She propped her right elbow in her left
palm and chewed on her thumbnail. “He needs that little girl.” She paced into
the living room and back. “What’s her name?”

“Emma Jean. After her mother.”

“I want to see her.”

“Jem, I can’t give you their address.”

“If I’m his lawyer, fighting for custody of
his natural born child, don’t you have to?”

Finn sighed. “Maybe. But that might be
quite the fight. He did leave. He is clearly not in his right mind.”

“If his brother-in-law knows he’s here, if
we get him help… Hell, if he knows that child is alive, I’m sure Joe will come
around. He’ll do whatever it takes.”

“How do you know that?”

She slumped into a chair. “I just do.”

don’t sell
the house

Jem wanted to blurt out to Joe that he had
a daughter. Give him something to hold on to. Some reason to jump back into
life. She couldn’t bring herself to make eye contact with him, afraid the secret
might be visible in her gaze.

But Finn was right. Mentioning his last
name almost sent him running. If he learned he’d abandoned a child he thought
he was responsible for killing, he may end up catatonic. One step at a time.
There was no way to ease into that conversation.

She gathered his refuse and balled it up in
her hands. “So, Joe. I’m going to be pushy today, okay?”

His brow creased.

“What did you do in Regina? For a living I
mean.” He was a school teacher. She knew that. It was so dishonest, asking him
things she knew the answers to. But this situation required unconventional, or
underhanded, means. “Were you a lawyer, like me?”

He made a face and shook his head.

“Hey now. We’re not all bad.”

He smiled.

“A doctor?”

Head shake.

“Come on, give me a hint.”

“Teacher.”

“Ooh, good hint.” She tapped her index
finger on her cheek. “Let’s see. Were you a teacher?”

He laughed. An actual out loud snicker.

“High school?”

Head shake.

“Junior high?”

Nod.

“Okay. Junior high school teacher.
Science?”

“Math.”

“Yuck. My least favourite.”

He smiled.

“Do you miss it? Your students, the school?”

He stared at the ground and nodded.

“Why don’t you go back?”

He shook his head. “Not yet.”

Yet? That was a first. A possibility. An
opening.

“Joe, I can help. If you need money. If you
need me to contact anyone.” She put a hand on his knee. “Would you please speak
to a therapist? Someone who can help you work through whatever it is that is
keeping you here?”

He pulled at tufts of grass. Then he looked
her in the eye. “Maybe. Maybe.”

“All right. That’s great. I’ll let you
think about that. Can we talk more tomorrow?”

He nodded.

“I’m going to be pushy again, you okay with
that?”

He smiled. One nod. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

The front door creaked. Jem turned away
from the fry pan to appreciate the sight of Finn as he entered the kitchen and
slipped his suit jacket over the back of a chair. He pulled his tie loose and
met her at the stove for a kiss.

“Mm, fried onions. What are you making?”

“Perogies. Not making them. Boiling the
frozen ones.”

“Oh, so disappointed you don’t stuff your
own.” He grinned at her and she pretended to slap him with the greasy wooden
spoon.

They scooped dumplings onto their plates
and smothered them in sour cream, bacon and onions. Jem filled two glasses with
wine and sat across from him. Each time he crossed her threshold she was struck
by how happy she was. Finn’s presence in her life was lifting the Gerald fog.
The crazy, the distance, the disappearance. For years it had dominated her life.
And now it was gone, over, closed. She began to see joy again, to relax and be
herself. To just be.

She cut a dumpling in half with the side of
her fork. “Joe said he might see a therapist.”

“That’s great. You didn’t tell him –”

“No. Not yet. But I want to. Soon. He’s
missed so much already. Tomorrow I want to ask about the accident. Somehow.
Without him knowing what I know.”

“I'm beginning to think you should tell him
what you know.”

“Believe me, I'm dying to. But I’m afraid
I’ll lose his trust. If I lose that I’ll lose him altogether.”

“I suppose.” He stood, took her empty plate
and set it in the sink with his. He turned and leaned against the cupboard, his
arms crossed. “Have you put any more thought into us living together? Not to
pressure you or anything, but can we talk about it?”

“Other than Joe, I’ve thought about nothing
else.” She crossed the floor and tucked her hands between his arms and body
until he uncrossed his arms and hugged her. “I want to. I mean, I really,
really want to. It sounds perfect.” She cocked her head to one side and looked
around her kitchen. “It’s the house. I’d have to give up the house. It used to
be ‘our’ place, you know? But in the last couple of years it became mine. I
kept it up for four years, made payments, handled it all alone. I want you to
know that’s why it’s hard to give up, not because of Gerald.”

His face softened. “Jem I don’t ever want
you to forget Gerald. Or give up the things that represented him in your life.
I’ve kept mementos of my relationship, my marriage. That’s normal.” He squeezed
her to him. “I’m not jealous of your feelings for Gerald. I hope you wouldn’t
be jealous of mine for Amy. They’re only memories, not here-and-now realities.”

“Seriously,” she whispered. “What is wrong
with you? Because I can’t find anything.”

He pulled away and leaned against the
counter, his arms crossed in front of his chest. He sighed. “I work hard to be
different than I used to be.”

“How did you used to be?”

“Angry.”

“I can’t imagine that.”

“I’ve seen a lot of shit in this job. My
father’s death left me pretty messed up. I was an adult, but suddenly I felt
like an orphaned child. And my marriage, the direction it took, made me pretty
bitter. Amy was tough to live with. But I was impossible.”