All Good People Here(72)
“I think it’s time…” Krissy darted her eyes to the floor. When she looked up again, she took a deep breath, then said, “Can I tell you what really happened that night? The night January died?”
“Oh, Kris. Of course.”
Jodie opened a new bottle of wine and they settled into the living room with their glasses, Krissy on the couch, Jodie sitting on the rug in front of the coffee table. Then, for the first time in her life, Krissy told the truth about that night fifteen years ago. Jodie listened, eyes wide, as Krissy explained everything, from waking at the sound of that crash and discovering Jace standing over January’s body, to staging her house to look like it had been broken into.
“Jesus,” Jodie said when she’d finished. Her voice sounded sad and unnerved, but it was devoid of judgment, and Krissy swelled with gratitude. Deep down, she’d known Jodie wasn’t going to look at her any differently after hearing the story, but the confirmation of that came as a relief. “I’m so sorry.”
Krissy took a sip of wine, nodded. She had expected reliving that night to cripple her with grief and anger like it always did, but something about the act of actually sharing it with Jodie had been cleansing. It felt as if a band had been wrapped tightly around her chest since 1994, and now, for the first time, it was beginning to loosen.
“Does Billy know?” Jodie asked.
“He found spray paint on the sleeve of my robe that morning, but I told him I brushed up against the wall. I’m not sure if he totally believed me, but if he’s suspected anything since, of me or of Jace, he’s never said. You’re the first person I’ve ever told the truth.” She shook her head, thinking. “And now, with this letter from Jace, I…I think I may have been wrong about everything. He said he didn’t kill her and—I don’t know—I think I believe him. He has no reason to lie to me. Not after everything I did to protect him.”
“That’s true.”
“Jesus. What if I fucked everything up? What if I’m the reason the police never found her killer? What if instead of protecting Jace, I was actually letting some…psycho get away with murder?” She slammed a hand against the couch’s armrest. “God! Fuck!” Her chest heaved with frustrated breath. Then, after a moment, she said, “And that’s not all.”
Jodie looked up.
Telling her the truth suddenly felt like a compulsion to Krissy, like some religious rite with the power to cleanse and make her whole again. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Billy isn’t the twins’ father.”
Jodie blinked. “What?”
“Do you remember that summer after high school, when everyone was having all those parties?”
She shook her head. “I moved here right after graduation.”
“Oh, that’s right. Well, that summer, me and Billy and Dave got really close. The three of us would hang out a lot together, but every once in a while, when Billy wasn’t around, Dave and I would sometimes end up sleeping together. I honestly didn’t think anything of it. I mean, I knew Billy was into me, but I didn’t think we were serious or anything, and it only happened a handful of times. But then I got pregnant. I went to Billy to ask for money for an abortion, because I didn’t think Dave would have any, and that’s when Billy proposed.”
“Wow…And you’re sure it was Dave and not Billy who got you pregnant?”
Krissy nodded. “I got my period after Billy, before Dave. He was the only one it could’ve been. And even if I hadn’t been sure before the twins were born, I would’ve known after. There’s always been something about them that’s…not like Billy.”
“They look like him too. Dave, I mean.” Jodie’s eyes were fixed but unfocused as if she were conjuring up images of all three of them in her mind. “I don’t think I would’ve ever put it together if you hadn’t told me, but they do.”
“That’s exactly why I was so scared. It’s why we’re not friends with Dave anymore. I pushed him away because I was scared of people finding out the truth.” Krissy dropped her head into her hand. She could still remember the look on Dave’s face as she did it, the hurt expression as understanding dawned.
* * *
—
It was late one Sunday morning, five months after the twins had been born, and their little family of four had just returned home from church. Krissy had been up the whole previous night rocking a wailing Jace while Billy had slept, and she had not wanted to go that morning, but Billy had convinced her.
“Do you think people didn’t notice the twins were born eight months after we got married?” he’d said. “We can’t afford any more mistakes.”
With those words, Krissy had felt something inside her shift. He was right, she’d realized. The town may have already guessed that the twins had been conceived out of wedlock, but no one seemed to suspect that Billy was not their biological father. Not yet. And she needed to keep it that way, needed to make sure she didn’t give people any reason to talk. She’d slid out of bed, showered, and dressed the twins in their Sunday best.
When they stepped onto their gravel drive after the service two hours later, Dave was sitting on their front porch stairs. Although it was only eleven in the morning, a bottle of beer dangled from his fingers, the rest of the six-pack between his feet.