After had devoured before, leaving him crumpled.
“Some big things I miss about him are…how funny he is and honestly, his body…ugh, I was just so physically attracted to him it almost made me sick. And…I also miss sharing sadness. Now, lucky me, I get it all to myself,” Tallie said. “We spent a lot of time alone together. Entire weekends in this house, only us. I guess that’s why I find myself thinking…was I making all that up? Where the hell did it go?”
“You weren’t making it up.”
Tallie scrunched her face, then straightened it. “What’s something big you miss about Christine?” she asked, pulling her hair over her shoulder.
“Her messy aliveness. She really went for it, y’know? So full of life and couldn’t get enough of even the things she hated. She really rocket-burned out instead of simply fading away,” he said, the answer breaking through quickly, requiring almost no brain energy from him at all.
“That’s beautiful. Tragic and beautiful.”
“Well, yeah…that’s a perfect way of describing her.”
He let his mind drift, and Tallie seemed to do the same, both of them transfixed by the quiet and the weight of the conversation and Barbra’s face on the TV screen. When she spoke again, Tallie asked Emmett to tell her something he loved about himself.
“I’m good in the kitchen,” he said.
“That you are. What else?”
“Not a proper answer?”
“No! I was only wondering what else you’d say.”
“Um…I’m a hard worker. I don’t half-ass things. Except my bridge jump…yeah, I guess I half-assed that, but it wasn’t all my fault. You’re partly to blame, you’ll have to admit,” he said, smiling at her. She looked uncomfortable, but he kept smiling. Kept smiling and smiling until she finally smiled back. “There we go,” he said.
“I didn’t like that joke.”
“Sorry. But yeah. I’m normally pretty emotionally resilient. An easy heart. I can usually deal with a lot…more. I have before.”
“Easy heart. I can see that in you, but we all have our weak moments, for sure.”
“What’s something you really love about you?” he asked.
She took her time and thought about it before answering. “Well…I’m patient and rarely rude to anyone. And I try to look for good things in people, even when I’m hurting.”
“And that’s why you didn’t kill your ex-husband in his sleep?”
“Exactly why. And when I do get lonely, I spend a lot of time with Lionel and his family,” Tallie said.
“How many kids does your brother have?”
“One. A boy. He’s six. I’m knitting this sweet little sweater for him.” Tallie held up her yarn and needles before grabbing her phone. She swiped through and held it out, showing Emmett a photo of a little brown boy grinning, missing teeth. “His name is River…and I don’t want that name to trigger anything for you because of the bridge and yesterday. It’s okay for me to keep going?”
“Yes. And no one else is like you, by the way,” Emmett said, taking the phone from her, looking closely at the photo of River—the little boy whose picture was stuck to the fridge more than once. “He’s super cute,” he said, feeling as if his heart had been wrenched open, scooped out.
“You haven’t mentioned any siblings. You don’t have them?”
They were surrounded by candle flickers. The house went wavy and shimmering, like they were being consumed. Deuteronomy 4:24; Hebrews 12:29. God as a consuming fire. And the devil, always there, too. Confusing him, telling him to give up, to let go, that there is only one way out. The constant grappling. Dissociation again—the swirly, conflicting feeling of floating gravity. No matter how fast or far he ran from it, it caught up to him. He stood, closed his eyes.
“Are you feeling okay?” Tallie asked.
“Sometimes I get dizzy.” He lifted his weighty eyelids, focused on her.
“I’ll get you a glass of water,” she said, walking to the kitchen.
“I’m making too much trouble for you.” He followed behind her.
“You aren’t. I want to help you, but you have to let me. Are you on antidepressants? They can cause dizziness. You should sit. I’ll make some more tea,” she said. She handed him the water and went to the table, pulling out a chair for him. She put the kettle back on.
（The chair is quieter than expected as it slides. The walnut wood of the chair matches the walnut wood of the table exactly. There are four chairs. The kitchen tile: gray sunbursts on white. The sunbursts are connected by thin gray lines. Tallie’s breath smells like tea.） “I’m not on antidepressants,” he said, sitting. His heart beat as if he’d been running. The edges of the world curved in closer, dimmed. Tallie sat, too.