Anyway, even though we haven’t talked as much lately, I have been thinking and worrying about you, Jen. I swear. I’m sorry if that hasn’t come across. Because I do realize how stressful it’s been. For you, and for me too. It’s hitting so close to home. I don’t know how to explain it, because I didn’t know Justin or the Dwyers, but his death hit me like the death of a family member. Because it could have been a member of my family, Jenny. It could have been Shaun.
This is all so hard… and weird. It’s not easy for me to cover this story, to be objective when you’re involved and to see the story from all sides, but I’m trying my best.
I have something for you… from Gigi. Let me know when we can meet up so I can give it to you.
December 24 12:48 pm
From: [email protected]
I remember now, I had my phone turned off the night that Gigi died. I’d gone to my place （did I even tell you that Kevin and I moved in with Cookie and Frank since the media is hounding us?） and there was a bag of shit on my doorstep and someone had spray-painted MURDERER across our fence. So I was a wreck and just wanted to shut out the world. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg. I wish you could see all the hate mail we’ve been getting. The awful trolls on social media. Have you seen what they say about us?? I mean, the first 400 or so times you’re called a racist cunt, it hurts, and then it’s like blah blah blah.
But anyway, Riley, what do you mean by sides? And if there are sides, shouldn’t you be on mine?
I feel terrible for what happened. God, I feel so bad. I was at the funeral, you know. I know you know, because you saw me there. It was important for me to pay my respects, because I’m heartbroken too. For Justin’s mom, that poor, poor woman. But also for Kevin. He didn’t mean for this to happen—you know that, Riley. You know that.
This morning I was up before everyone and I found Cookie making Christmas bread. Before I knew what was happening she was all hugging me and crying and saying how we need to make sure this is the perfect Christmas because it could be Kevin’s last holiday with us for a while. She was such a wreck, I felt like shit about every nasty thought I’d ever had about Cookie. I don’t know who I’m more worried about actually, her or Kevin… or us?
December 25 12:12 am
From: [email protected]
Don’t worry about us, Jenny. We’ll talk. Soon.
I’m sorry you’re getting so many nasty notes online. It sucks. Believe me I know what it’s like. Every single day I get comments on the news station website about my awful bangs, and how I shouldn’t wear red or purple or blue. But worse is when they call me an ugly ape or say I should take my big lips back to Africa.
It’s nothing new though. I was just going through some old yearbooks earlier. Momma thrust a box of stuff in my face and told me I might as well get started on going through whatever I still have here. They’re preparing to put the house on the market, so I guess tomorrow will be our last Christmas there house. It’s strange to already feel nostalgic for something that isn’t quite gone yet. But I am.
Anyway, I started reading all the things people wrote to me senior year. You took up the entire back cover! And then there was a note from Ryan DiNucci. Remember him? He had that stupid Backstreet Boys haircut. He wrote, “Good luck in college. You’re gonna be famous someday.” Which was crazy because back in seventh grade he left a note in my locker saying “you think you’re so great you niger.”
Which is my point: people are always going to say shit and you just have to deal with it. Hang in there. And try to have a happy Christmas, okay?
Actually, I just realized it’s past midnight; it’s already Christmas. Remember how we always used to say that at sleepovers? We stayed up until tomorrow. Merry Christmas, Jenny.
xR
December 25 3:02 pm
From: [email protected]
I’m trying to have a happy Christmas over here, which means for right now hiding in the basement with the kids and just getting a moment to myself. There’s too many people in this house. All the aunts and uncles and cousins down from Scranton. Kevin’s family breeds like horny rabbits. Lou’s here too and got so drunk last night on eggnog that she told Cookie her hair looked like a lampshade. Things were still chilly this morning as we opened presents, but then Lou gave Cookie a tea towel with Dolly Parton’s face on it and then Cookie actually hugged her. I never thought I’d see the day. I felt so dumb giving Kevin the stupid scrapbook I made him since I couldn’t afford a real gift, but I think he loved it. Then Matt gave him a real nice leather wallet with his initials on it and the words “we bleed blue” and Kevin shut down for the rest of the morning.
Why didn’t you tell me about Ryan DiNucci when it happened? I would have punched him right in his fat face for you. And why didn’t you tell me about getting called names online? I tell you absolutely everything about my life. I don’t understand why you would keep stuff like that from me.
Getting together sounds great. Maybe next week, when it would have been my shower? Which is canceled, by the way. I think Cookie was going to call, but I guess that’s obvious. It wouldn’t be right. I’m disappointed, but I’m so excited to meet him soon, Riley. You have no idea.
December 25 4:12 pm
From: [email protected]
Wait. HIM??? It’s a boy?!
December 25 8:20 pm
From: [email protected]
Oh shit—whoops! Yeah, it’s a boy. I’m not telling anyone. Maybe it’s stupid, but it’s nice to have a secret. Something that’s only mine. Even Kevin doesn’t know. Don’t say anything to anyone.
Things will be better soon. I have to believe that. They’re going to complete the investigation and clear Kevin. It was a terrible tragedy, but he was strictly following his training and protocol. All our lives can go back to normal. You can come over to have dinner with Kevin and me and all this will be behind us.
December 26 11:20 pm
From: [email protected]
Back to normal? Jesus, Jenny, an innocent boy is dead. And Kevin and Travis Cameron get to go on with their lives like nothing happened? I don’t know how I can sit down with your husband and eat burgers and act like everything’s a-okay. It’s so not okay. And the fact that you don’t get that…
Chapter Eleven RILEY
That last email to Jen has sat, unsent, in my drafts folder for days. It’s begging to be sent. So are the other ten emails I’ve drafted to her since then, some long rants, some heartfelt, one that was just a sentence: What the hell, Jenny?
But each time I go to press send, I stop myself. I tell myself it’s because an email is a cop-out. I tell myself it’s because I don’t want to escalate things. I tell myself it’s because I don’t have time right now to deal with the fallout and it’s easier just to tiptoe. I tell myself I’m being generous in giving her space right now. I tell myself I can just wait and bide my time and all this will go away, somehow things will go back to the way they were or some version of it. Of all these excuses, this last one is the biggest lie. Things can’t go back to the way they were, because I’m too upset. That last message, Jen’s optimistic attitude, like she and Kevin can just put a dead kid behind them and move on, broke something in me. I mean, I get it, of course she doesn’t want her husband to go to prison; she wants her life to return to normal. I want these things for her too. Or I should want them. I want to want them. There’s a part of me though, deep and primal, that keeps returning to the fact that an innocent kid died. It may all be a tragic accident, but there need to be consequences. Wasn’t that one of our earliest lessons at Sunshine Kids? Fairness. Or the blunter version that was drilled into me at Sunday school: an eye for an eye. Someone should pay. Kevin should pay. My breath catches on the betrayal.