The Accomplice(37)

“Hey,” Owen said.

“Hey,” Scarlet said. “I’m going to go.”

“Okay. You good to drive?”

“Think so.”

“You want some coffee for the road?”

“Nah,” she said.

“Can I get you anything?” Owen asked.

“No,” she whispered, walking toward the front door.

Owen could feel the anticipation of freedom. Once she left, the world would be right. Scarlet opened the door. A blast of cold air entered the house. She turned back.

“She’s not so great, you know,” Scarlet said. “The only reason you like her is because you don’t know her.”

Owen stared at his feet, afraid of what he’d say or do. His anger rose so intensely that his face flushed with heat and rage. In his head, he was screaming, Get out, get out, get out.

“Don’t make this about Luna. Okay?” Owen said.

“Good people don’t get hate mail. Think about it,” Scarlet said.

Owen heard the creak of the floorboards on the stairs. He looked up. Griff loped down the stairs in his robe and pajamas.

“Good morning,” Griff said, sounding pleasant enough.

Scarlet forced a smile. “Morning. Sorry about last night.”

“You leaving?” Griff asked. The delivery was casual, but Scarlet could hear the warning in his tone.

“Yes.”

“Great. Let me walk you out,” Griff said.

Scarlet wasn’t ready to leave. She had more to say. Much, much more. But Griff stood in the foyer, waiting for her.

“Got everything you need?” Griff added.

Scarlet gazed at Owen one last time.

“Bye,” Owen said.

Griff followed Scarlet as she walked to her car. She turned back and said sharply, “I can take it from here.”

Griff stopped where he was and waited until she got into her car. “Drive safe,” he said.

Griff returned to the house. He and Owen waited until they heard the engine of Scarlet’s car fade away. Owen exhaled. Griff closed the front door.

“Thanks, man,” Owen said.

Griff put his arm around his brother. “So, what’s the lesson we learned from this fiasco?”

“Dude, you interrupted my call and invited her here. You remember that?” Owen said.

“Yes,” Griff said. “That’s the lesson I learned. What did you learn?”

Owen delivered the answer he knew his brother was suggesting. “Don’t sleep with people you don’t really know. Okay?” Owen said, with the full knowledge that that was an edict he would not be able to strictly follow.

Luna woke up shortly after. She joined the brothers in the kitchen, her eyes scanning the room.

“She left about an hour ago,” Owen said.

Luna sank into a kitchen chair, relieved. Owen delivered a cup of coffee.

“So,” Owen said. “What’s the plan for today? I still think we can turn this trip around.”

Luna stayed with the Mann family for ten more days, bringing in the new year. Scarlet didn’t call again. There were no more late-night incidents with Vera and Tom. Griff showed Luna how to use a chain saw and let her cut down the Christmas tree from their backyard. No one was precious about the tree-trimming. Tom couldn’t find the box of ornaments. They used whatever was on hand. They strung jujubes instead of popcorn and hung a few key-chain flashlights, which Vera had purchased as stocking stuffers. It was the best Christmas Luna had had in years. Not that it had much competition.



* * *



—

Luna had grown so accustomed to being a guest in the Mann house that the drive back to campus filled her with dread. She thought for sure Owen would mention the letters on that drive. When he didn’t, she imagined it was possible to put the whole thing behind her. She also imagined that 2004 would be a Scarlet-free year. She was disabused of that notion within just a few days of returning to Markham. Scarlet showed up at Luna’s dorm with a white lily in lieu of an olive branch.

Luna tried to politely send Scarlet away. “It’s not a good time.”

“You have to let me apologize,” Scarlet said, gently shoving her way into the room and plopping down on the floor. “I’m sorry about mentioning the letters. I was drunk. Confused. He’s so hot and cold. It’s like whiplash. But why was he so angry? And what is this big secret?”

Luna was stunned that Scarlet had the nerve to ask about the letters. And was that even an apology?

“Have you heard the legal metaphor fruit of the poisonous tree?” Luna asked.

“Uh, I don’t know,” Scarlet said.

“I didn’t tell Owen about the letters. He went digging through my stuff and found them. That’s not cool. He shouldn’t have seen them in the first place. Because of that, I don’t think I need to tell you anything. And the fact that you asked is fucked up. Whatever is between you and Owen has nothing to do with me,” Luna said.

“You’re right. Sorry,” Scarlet said. “I won’t ask again.”

“Thanks,” Luna said.

“So, are we still friends?” Scarlet asked.

“Sure,” Luna said, defeated.

The response was purely one of self-preservation. Keep your enemies close, that kind of thing. Luna hoped she and Scarlet could manage a surface-friendly acquaintance deal. But then Scarlet just kept turning up like she’d always done before. And, like before, it felt easier—safer, really—to just let her in.