A Deep and Dark December(66)

“I…” Graham pulled away, his hands fisting on his thighs under the table.

“You know what? I don’t care.” Future Erin started to rise.

“Wait! Don’t go, Erin. Please.”

“Give me a reason not to.”

He hesitated and it must have been too much for her. Her voice turned hard. “You’re so used to being the one who leaves you don’t know what it’s like to be left. Do you?” she asked.

“I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”

“Just go ahead and say it, Graham. I already know. You go to her grave.”

Shock, guilt, and relief sifted through Graham’s expression like hourglass sand until it ran out and he went blank again.

“You didn’t think I’d look?” Future Erin asked. “Didn’t think I’d use my ability to find you?”

“You know how I feel about you doing that.”

“What else am I supposed to do? Sit around and imagine you dead somewhere?”

“I’m sorry.”

“God. If I hear you say that one more time—”

Graham rubbed his thighs with the flat of his hands. “I want to come home.”

Other Erin glanced away, close to tears. She sucked in a shuddering breath and let it out slowly.

Graham reached out and stroked her face. “Don’t cry, Babe. Please.”

Seeing herself suffering snapped something inside Erin and she felt herself being drawn down. Just as the window on her vision closed she heard her future self say, tears in her voice, “You’re the only one keeping you away, Graham. And you’re the only one who can bring you back to me.”

The darkness was total and complete. In the distance Erin heard voices. She could feel a cold hardness beneath her. And then the curtain went up on another scene. She was in Keith’s house, standing at the railing of the second floor overlooking his living room. Alone. She’d been in Keith’s house just once before and then only briefly. The living room below was as she remembered it, clean and tidy. A place for everything and everything in its place.

It suddenly struck her how odd it was that Keith and Deidre had an affair. Keith was a man who liked neat even rows. It was equally strange that Keith had gone out with someone as messy and unpredictable as Erin. She obviously hadn’t known Keith as well as she thought, to be so wrong about the choices he’d made. She wondered where she’d be right now if Deidre, Greg, and Keith hadn’t died. Where they’d all be if she could go back to that day on Amiable Lane and alter events.

Keith walked into the room and looked up at the ceiling. He wore the black dress pants and white shirt of his work uniform. His hair was combed, his face freshly shaved. The scent of his cologne wafted up to Erin, bringing with it memories of their time together and the sharp pain of regret. He hadn’t been a bad guy. He’d always been respectful and kind toward her. She couldn’t help but feel that she’d let him down and had repaid his kindness with reserve instead of interest.

He left the room again, then reappeared with rope and began to climb the stairs. Oh, no. She didn’t want to see this. She pushed hard against the wall that had sprung up between herself and reality, mentally beating at it, looking for a break she could exploit and escape through. But the wall was pain and the more she worked at it, the stronger it became until she doubled over, nauseous and nearly blinded.

Keith hit the landing and paused. His eyes swam with despair. He looked down at the rope in his hands, then up at the beams in the ceiling, his fingers worrying the rope like a rosary. He was mumbling something, but Erin’s ears rang with misery and she couldn’t make out the words. He jolted, quaking like an addict denied his fix.

His motions became frantic as he threw the end of the rope at the beam over and over, whipping at it until the end finally sailed over the other side. He jogged downstairs and retrieved the end, then came back up and repeated the process. Three times he wrapped the beam before tying it off. He stared at the other end of the rope as if he didn’t know what he was supposed to do with it and then he began to fashion the noose. His movements were jerky and unsure. He paused several times and closed his eyes, shaking as though he was waging an internal war.

Erin redoubled her efforts to break out of the vision, turning away from Keith’s trembling form hunched over the knot he was making. She felt the cold hardness again, pressing against her right side. Graham’s voice distant and flickering called to her from another time. A fissure formed in the vision, melting one world into the next. Behind her, a loud knock sounded at Keith’s front door.

“Keith! Open up. Sherriff.” Graham’s voice.

Keith began to sob.

In front of her, Erin could see the long expanse of her entryway floor, stretching out into the living room. Graham leaned down into her line of vision. She blinked up at him. At her back, Keith got to his feet. She turned in the vision and the two images overlapped. Graham over Keith. Keith slipped the noose over his head. Graham touched her face. She fought for breath. Fought to move. Keith threw one leg over the railing, then the other.

She reached out for Keith and hit Graham. “No! Don’t!”

“Don’t what?” Graham asked.

Keith gripped the sides of his head, wincing as though he felt the same pain she did. And then he jumped. She screamed. Graham shook her. Keith kicked, losing a shoe. A lamp crashed. He jerked. The rope squeaked, protesting against the weight.