Lexi put down her box of belongings and sat next to Tamica on the cold floor. She picked up a few photographs from the pile. “This is my Aunt Eva. And this is Zach.” She stared down at his senior picture. She touched it all the time. Already it felt as if she were starting to forget him, and that terrified her. “And this is Mia. The girl I … killed.”
Tamica took the picture of Mia, studied it. “Pretty girl. Rich?”
Lexi frowned. “How’d you know that?”
“You’re here, ain’t you?”
Lexi wasn’t quite sure how to answer that. The question seemed to imply facts that weren’t quite true, or that she hadn’t really seen before.
“I killed my husband,” Tamica said, indicating a picture on the wall.
“Self-defense,” Lexi said. It was something you heard about a lot in here. She seemed to be the only guilty person in prison.
“Nah. Killed the fucker in his sleep.”
“Oh.”
“I been here so long now I can hardly remember the bad shit I done.” Tamica put out the cigarette and hid the unsmoked half inside of her mattress. “Well, I guess we might as well talk. Get to know each other.” She looked at Lexi, and in those dark eyes, there was a sadness that made Lexi uncomfortable. “We got time, you and me. And I could use a friend.”
“When will you get out?”
“Me?” Tamica smiled slightly. “Never.”
*
On a Wednesday in late August, Zach emerged from his bedroom looking disheveled and a little disoriented. His short hair was dirty and spiky; his T-shirt had a big stain across the front.
Jude and Miles were in the great room, staring at the TV, though neither was watching. They hadn’t spoken in more than an hour. When Zach walked into the room, Jude’s heart ached at the sight of him. If she weren’t so exhausted, she would have gone to him, maybe asked how he was, but she hadn’t slept in weeks, and even the merest movements were beyond her. She’d lost fifteen pounds this summer, and the loss left her looking skeletal and wan.
“I’m going to USC,” he said without preamble.
Miles rose slowly. “We’ve talked about this, Zach. I don’t think that’s a good idea. It’s too soon.”
“It’s what she would want,” Zach said, and with that, the air seemed to get sucked out of the room, leaving them all breathless.
Miles sank back to the sofa. “Are you sure?”
“Sure?” Zach said, his voice dull. “It’s what I’m doing, okay?”
Jude stared at her son, seeing the salmony patch of new skin along his jaw. Blue veins in his cheeks looked like cracked lines in aged porcelain. He was this big, broad-shouldered kid who’d been whittled down by grief. How could she tell him to stay here, in this airless, dead place? “Okay,” she said at last.
*
For the next few days, Jude made a herculean effort to act like her old self. She wasn’t that woman, of course, but she wanted—this one time—to think about her son instead of her daughter. In the old days—only months ago now, a lifetime—she would have thrown a huge “good luck in college / going away” party for her kids. Now, it took everything inside of her to invite a few friends over to say good-bye to Zach. Honestly, she didn’t want to do even that, but Miles insisted.
On the big day, she took a shower and washed and dried her hair. When she looked in the mirror, she was surprised by the thin, fragile-looking face that stared back at her. Too many sleepless nights had left dark circles under her eyes, and even in this final week of August, after a long, hot summer, she was as pale as chalk.
She brought out her makeup kit and went to work, and by three o’clock, when the doorbell rang, she looked almost like her old self.
“They’re here,” Miles said, coming up behind her. He slipped his arms around her waist and kissed the side of her neck. “Are you ready?”
“Sure,” she said, forcing a smile. In truth, she felt a fluttering of panic. The thought of people around her, of having to pretend she was okay, getting over it, moving on, made her hyperventilate.
Miles took her by the hand and led her down the hall to the front door.
Molly and Tim stood on the front porch; both were smiling just a little too brightly. They had come bearing food, with their kids in a group behind them. The freezer was already full of foil-wrapped food that people had brought after the accident. Jude couldn’t look at any of it, couldn’t eat a bite of it. Just the sight of foil made her queasy.