The Exception (29 page)

I watched her pump her arms up and down, a smile on her face.

“The only good thing about this walk is that I got to bust out my old tie-dyed shirt,” I laughed, knowing Kari hated it.

“That shirt is disgusting. I hate to be seen with you wearing it. It would be so sad if that was lost in the laundry.”

“Don’t you even think about it!” I warned before noticing my shoelace flopping along the pavement. “Okay, solider. Can we stop a second? My shoe is untied.”

Kari stopped but kept marching in place. “Hurry up! We will lose our heart rates!”

“God forbid,” I muttered as I bent down to retie my sneaker. Something caught my attention out of my peripheral vision and I jerked my head to the side.

There was nothing out place. Kids were playing and people were watering their plants like they did every day at six in the evening. Still, the hair on the back of my neck stood up.

“What’s wrong?” Kari asked, beginning to do jumping jacks.

“Nothing, I don’t think.” I stood up, looking around again. “I just feel like something is wrong. Maybe someone is watching us?”

Kari stopped moving and scanned the area, too. “I think you’re just paranoid. There’s nothing out of the ordinary. These are our neighbors.” She shrugged. “Do you want to go home?”

“Yeah,” I said, nodding my head. “I’m tired anyway.

“You’re so weak.”

We headed off towards the house, Kari’s smile replaced with a frown. “Do you really think someone was watching us?”

I looked around again, waving back to one of the little girls that had been playing with the yellow ball in the park.

That feels like years ago.

“No. I’m just a little paranoid. You’re right.”

“I can’t blame you. That shit with Simon was strange.”

I shook my head. “It was strange and awful.”

“But you haven’t heard anything else from him, right?”

I exhaled, blowing away the stress that I was beginning to feel accumulate in my body. “No. And I don’t think Cane has either. He hasn’t mentioned anything, so maybe Simon moved on or whatever.”

“Did you ever figure out why he was after you? Or Cane?”

I shrugged as I smoothed back my ponytail. “Yeah. Simon’s dad basically murdered Cane’s dad.”

“What? You’re kidding me?”

“I wish. But that’s what happened. I think the thing with me was just some outburst at Cane and it’s over now. I hope, anyway.”

We turned the corner to our house, dodging a little boy on a skateboard.

“Me too. I just resigned the contract on the security system at the house. So if that gives you some peace, there’s that.” Kari smiled brightly at me.

“There’s that. It does make me feel a little safer, actually.” I chewed my lip. “I need to find my own apartment. It’s time, I think.”

We walked up the steps to the front door, Kari looking at me out of the corner of her eye. “Yeah. I wonder how Cane is going to feel about that …”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. But it isn’t his choice.”

“Do you think he’ll want you to move in with him?”

My eyes widened. “I, uh, I don’t know. But I won’t. It’s way too early, sis.”

Kari nodded subtly as she took the key from her pocket.

“So now that we have burned a million calories …” I began.

“Try like two hundred.”

“We only burned two hundred freaking calories? Why bother?” I moaned as Kari unlocked the door and we walked in. “That’s almost a waste of time!”

Kari laughed. “That’s why everything you eat matters.”

“Screw it. I’m ordering pizza. Do you want some?”

“Pepperoni and mushroom,” she called over her shoulder as she walked towards the kitchen.

“And extra cheese,” I muttered as I grabbed my cell. I headed up stairs to erase the grime from the walk that would never matter.

Me: Ordering pizza. Want some?

Cane: I’ll have some of you first.

Me: Deal.

Cane: 90 minutes.

Me: <3

Cane: I don’t do emojis.

Me: <3

Cane: Insert emoji here.

Me: You suck.

Cane: Heart.

I laughed, tossing the phone on the sink.

“Jada!” Kari’s voice shouted from downstairs. There was something about the tone and volume that caused a ripple in my chest.

“Yeah?” I jogged to the top of the stairs. “What’s wrong?”

I took the stairs quickly and headed towards the kitchen.

“I am in the kitchen! Come here a second.” Her voice was too controlled, too level and I picked up my pace.

Kari was standing at the island, her hands on her chest as she looked out towards the pool. I followed her line of sight slowly until it landed on the back door to the patio, standing wide open.

“Did you leave the door open?” She turned her head slowly to me, her forehead creased. “Because I remember shutting it before we left the house. I know I did.”

“I haven’t been out that door all day.” I bit the inside of my cheek, narrowing my eyes. “Was that open when we got home?”

Kari nodded her head, a confused look on her face. “Yeah. So weird. Maybe it was the wind?”

We both knew it wasn’t the wind.

“Did you set the alarm when we left?”

Kari walked to the door and swung it shut. “No. I didn’t think we would be gone that long.”

I surveyed the kitchen and the attached family room. Everything seemed in place—television on the wall, the sofa undisturbed. “Everything looks fine. I was in my room and the bathroom and it was all fine there, too.”

Kari took a deep breath before releasing it quickly. “It’s probably the wind or that it wasn’t latched tight. Like you said, everything looks fine. Probably no big deal.”

“Except we should always set the alarm,” I pointed out.

“Except for that.”

I walked backwards out of the room, raising my eyebrows at Kari. “Now, if you have nothing else to panic over, I’m ordering pizza and getting a shower.”

She opened the freezer door and stuck a bottle of wine inside it. “And I have the wine chilling.”

JADA

Bliss.

That small, yet meaningful, word was bouncing in my head as I pulled my car into the driveway after a successful day at work.

The last few days had been nothing but blissful. I had spent most nights with Cane, falling into an easy rhythm of day-to-day activities. Simple, mundane things, when done at his side, were a whole new experience. Being with him was enjoyable, easy; there was no walking on eggshells that I had experienced in my marriage to Decker.

I shook my head, realizing that line of thinking could very well get me in trouble.

As soon as I opened the door to the house, aromas of garlic and tomatoes flooded my senses. I tossed my bags on the couch as I walked through the living room to the kitchen. Kari was standing at the stove over a boiling pot of water and a simmering pan of pasta sauce. Her brown hair was pulled back into a bun, one hand on her slender hip that was jutted to the side.

The whole scene reminded me of my mother. Kari looked much more like her than I did, with the same brown hair and green eyes. Mom’s specialty dinner was spaghetti and Kari had found her recipe in an old binder in Dad’s basement when we were teenagers; she had perfected it over the years.

“Hey!” My voice came out in a singsong way, causing Kari to turn around from the stove. “That smells delish!”

“It will be, as always!” She winked at me before turning back to stir the sauce. “How was your day?”

“Great! I was on a roll today,” I said, grabbing a bottle of water from the refrigerator. “Do you want me to make a salad?”

“That would be awesome.”

“What did you do today?” I asked, getting to work on the salad.

“I finished my shift early this afternoon and did a little shopping.” She smiled brightly as I winced at the thought. “I bought a gorgeous new pink dress! You have to see it! Anyway, it was just a very productive day, so now I’m continuing the amazingness with spaghetti!”

“I love that you celebrate with food. It is so my style.”

“Yeah, didn’t figure you would mind! Oh!” Kari turned to me, setting the wooden spoon on a little dish beside the stove. “A box came for you today.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Really? I didn’t order anything.”

Kari wiped her hands on a towel. “It did. I sat it on the table.”

I followed her to the table, noticing a parcel sitting in the middle. “It doesn’t say who it is from,” she said, picking it up and flipping it over in her hands. It was larger than a shoebox and completely nondescript.

“Strange. I have no clue.” I took the package from Kari and opened it on the table.

“What the …” The box was full of the pictures I had left in the back of Decker’s closet. Image after image stared up at me, reminding of me of a different lifetime.

“Jada,” Kari began, her hand to her mouth, “did Decker send these?”

“I guess.” I dug through the box, feeling my heart ping as memories of a life I had wanted to leave behind rolled past me like a slideshow. I pulled out a photo of us at the Tempe Town Lake Marina when we were in college. Decker was smiling at me while I was smiling at the camera.
When did that dynamic change?
A blurry photo of our little wedding ceremony, taken by one of Decker’s friends, was a little torn on the edges. There was a picture of our first house in Boston. We had looked at it on a rainy summer day and fell in love with it immediately.
I was so proud of that house.

Leafing through the pictures, I had to ask myself if these memories were even real.

Did the smile on his face mean he was happy in that moment with me? Or was he happy thinking about the girl he was going to take to Columbus for the weekend in the guise of “work”?

Everything was tainted, a cloud around each and every memory that the box held.

Kari reached in and pulled out a sheet of folded paper, handing it to me. “Has he called you lately?”

I shook my head.

“Why would he send these now? I don’t get it.”

I sighed. “It’s hard to tell. Maybe he’s been drinking lately and is reminiscing. Maybe he’s hungry and no one is home to make dinner. Heck if I know. He’s totally unpredictable.”

I straightened the paper and I held my breath as I began to read:

I released the breath I was holding slowly. This was typical Decker: almost sweet at the beginning and then his true colors show at the end, a confusing mess of sweet and sour. But I had let myself live in such a confused state for far too long, never able to just relax with Decker and know what the next day would bring. And I had a taste of that with Cane and it was something I didn’t want to live without.

“I don’t even know what to say to that,” Kari said, taking the note from my hand and wadding it into a ball. She turned to me, her face stern and concerned. “How does that make you feel?”

I sighed as I slumped into a chair. “Annoyed. Frustrated. Kind of sad, but not sad enough to do anything about it.”

Kari tossed the paper back into the box and walked to the stove, turning everything off, before returning to the table and sitting down with me. “Why does it make you sad?”

“What are you, a therapist?” I shook my head, not wanting to get to the bottom of anything, except maybe a wine glass.

She frowned. “No, but I am your sister. And it’s my job to help you figure things out. So spill.”

“I don’t know. I left those pictures because I wanted to forget those times existed.”

“Those times, the ones where you were happy, never happened,” she said, knocking her hand against the box. “You were happy under a false reality. If you had known for sure what all he was up to, would you have been happy?”

I shook my head, seeing her point.

“That’s like seeing half of a picture and thinking it’s pretty. But when you put the other half up there, it’s this awful mess. And it changes your entire perception on the picture as a whole. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

I laughed at her analogy. “You’re nuts. But yeah, I get it.” We sat silently for a minute, Kari watching me as I looked at the box, expecting it to do something or some revelation to hit me. But nothing happened.

“Well, we have to do something with this,” I said, not taking my eyes off the cardboard box. “What do you think?”