Heather(61)

CALLIE


She’s playing with Opal in her bedroom, an invented game that involves a princess and a troll and the crossing of a river, lines of dialogue that get assigned to Callie then revised, rules that seem to change by the second.

“What kind of money should I use to pay the toll?” Callie asks. Opal frowns, then lights up.

“Oh, I have something! It looks just like real money. Green and everything.” She rushes to the corner of her room, where there’s a low shelf, shifts some books and plastic stacking cups around. Callie remembers when it was neatly arranged with toys, before Jane’s accident, and now it is crowded with pine cones, sticks, stray puzzle pieces. She makes a note to tidy it up next time she’s here.

Opal is beaming when she turns around. “Here’s your money to pay the toll!”

There’s a green glassine bag in her tiny palm.

Callie tries to swallow her shock, blinks a few times, wondering if her brain is short-circuiting. Too little sleep, distracted, worlds merging. But no.

“Opal, where did you get this?”

Opal shrugs, the pride on her face a moment ago already gone.

“I need you to think really hard, Opal, and tell me where that’s from.”

“Am I in trouble?”

“No, no, nothing like that. But I need to know. Please tell me?”

“Daddy.”

“Daddy gave this to you?”

“It was in his truck.”

The thud of her heart reverberates against her ribs. “And you picked it up when he wasn’t looking? Was it empty when you found it?”

“Empty. I thought … I thought it would be good for money. To play.” Her voice cracks on the word play, her lip wobbles, and then her face crumbles. Tears streak down her cheeks.

“Oh, Opal, I’m so sorry. Come here.” She pats Opal’s back as she sniffles into her shirt. “You didn’t do anything wrong, okay? I’m so sorry if I scared you. You know I’m not mad, right?”

Opal nods, her face still pressed to Callie’s chest.

“Everything okay?” Jane calls from down the hall.

“We good?” she whispers to Opal.

Opal musters a little smile, nods again.

“Yeah, all good in here! I think my bridge troll was a little too convincing.”

“Ha.”

Callie slips the baggie into the pocket of her jeans.

Does Jane know? Is this what Frank meant, when he asked if Damien seemed okay? When Luke said that Damien was dealing with some regrets? Is he on drugs? Is that what he’s really doing when she’s here babysitting? Getting high out in the woods alone? It would explain a lot. His moodiness. The day Callie showed up and he had been out on his mysterious errand, left Jane and Opal alone.

A buzz from her pocket. Jane. Bridge Troll, you also have to tell me about your man. You’ve been way too tight-lipped.

Later? Story is rated NC-17.

Oh hell YES. Get some, Callie Hauser.

You getting any, Jefferies? She’s started calling Jane Jefferies, like Jimmy Stewart’s character in Rear Window. Jane’s still TikTok and Reddit obsessed, always scrolling through old cases, calling out facts to Callie and asking for her thoughts.

She knows her question isn’t subtle, but maybe it’s the way in to talking about whatever is going on with Damien. Her mind reels. Maybe this is what Luke was hinting around, when he asked Damien the last thing he lied about. Maybe he had a habit and is trying to get clean, was at a meeting that time Callie came over and Jane and Opal were here alone.

ha HA ha, Jane writes back.

Opal tugs at the hem of her shirt. “Can I watch Peppa Pig on your phone, Aunt Cal?”

“Uh, sure. A little bit.” Opal’s squeal of glee when Callie hands over her phone quells the queasy guilt she still feels at making her cry.

She steps out of Opal’s room once Opal is completely absorbed, her mouth slightly open, the colors of the video flashing against the pale skin of her face. Jane is on the couch reading. She looks so peaceful, more like herself, than she has in weeks. She’s been walking, with Damien and Callie’s help, up and down the driveway. The fresh air seems to do her good. The circles under her eyes don’t look as dark. Her smiles don’t have that sardonic crook at the corners quite as often.

“Opal let you free? How’d you pull that off?”

“Had to sacrifice my phone. Peppa Pig.”

“Ah. Praise be to Peppa. So wait, tell me about the guy. All the dirty details. Like I said. Not getting any over here. The doctors say it’s fine but … I don’t know. Hard to feel sexy when your husband has had to walk you to the toilet every time you need to take a shit.”

“You’ll get back to normal.”

“Normal wasn’t all that often, either.”

Her hand moves to the outside of her pocket. She can feel the outline of the green bag through the fabric. “Look, I realize that I really wasn’t around a lot before. So there might be stuff I don’t know. I was checked out. Too absorbed by my job. I should have been paying closer attention. Should have been a better friend to you. But I get the feeling you meant what you said in that voicemail—”

Jane opens her mouth to interrupt, stops when Callie holds up a finger. “I get the feeling you meant what you said, even if you really don’t remember calling me.”