Every Last Fear(63)

The words were caught in his throat for some reason, so he just nodded.

“Sorry for the sneaking around,” Jessica said. “You’re not the most popular guy in the world after that TV show. And I have a business to run.…”

That explained it. She didn’t want to be seen with him. Wonderful. “You run the bar? I thought you just—”

“… worked there as a dumb cocktail waitress?”

“I didn’t mean—”

“I’m just playing with you,” she said. “After my brother’s accident, I had to put college on hold. Ricky couldn’t take over the place when my uncle got sick. Stanford let me defer for a while, but I think that ship has sailed. The bar does pretty well, though. There’s not much to do in Adair. But, as you can see, the hours suck.”

“Stanford, wow.”

“I wanted to get as far away as possible. See how that worked out?”

“For both of us.”

“Come on,” she said, “you can walk me home.”

Matt followed her down the hill and to the worn path until they reached the large circular patch of grass and dirt everyone called the Hub. From there they took a dirt road that led to her childhood home. He was going to ask if she could still possibly live in the same house, but he thought better of it. He knew the answer and did not want to make her say it. They walked shoulder to shoulder along the narrow road.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” Jessica said.

“Why’s that?”

“Well, you haven’t exactly received a warm reception.”

Matt released a noise of agreement.

“I’m sorry about my brother,” she said. “He hasn’t been the same since the accident. He gets confused. And he doesn’t have many friends, so he shows off for those assholes who only hang out with him for the free drinks he sneaks them when I’m not looking.”

Matt nodded. “What happened to him?”

“Car wreck. Mangled more than his body. Traumatic brain injury. You wouldn’t notice the TBI at first, but if you talk to him for a while…”

Matt gave her a sympathetic look. As a girl she’d been sweet, empathetic. It was what had attracted him. And by the sound of it, putting her life on hold to care for her brother, taking over the family business, she hadn’t changed.

“So why’d you call me out here?” Matt asked, examining her profile in the pale light.

This time it was Jessica who blushed. “I don’t know.”

“Sure you do.”

“To say I’m sorry, I guess.”

“Sorry for what?”

“I wasn’t exactly a good friend after what happened with your brother.”

Matt thought about this. For the first time, he remembered that Jessica had ghosted him after Danny’s arrest. Avoided him at school. Not returned his calls. How was it possible he’d forgotten? He had such vivid memories of that night. The itchiness of the grass on his back as they lay watching the stars. The feel of her hand holding his as they walked this very path. The way she tucked her hair behind her ear in the prelude to the kiss.

After Danny’s arrest it was a montage of misery, with lots of gaps in the timeline: his parents fighting. The sound of his father sobbing behind the closed bathroom door. The reporters outside the house. The receiver of the landline phone in the kitchen dangling off the hook. The whispers and stares whenever they went into town. The moving van. Maybe forgetting was a defense mechanism. Blocking out the unpleasantness.

Matt had a troubling thought: maybe that was why Danny couldn’t remember anything about the night Charlotte was killed. Blocking out what he did.

Jessica looked down at the grass. “If I could go back in time, I’d tell my mom I could be friends with whoever I wanted. I’d be stronger, a better friend. I saw the pain you were in, and I should’ve—”

“You don’t need to apologize.”

“But I do.”

“Okay, you just did.” He smiled. “And I can honestly say I’ve never given it another thought.”

They continued down the road, the sound of their footfalls filling the silence. “I’m so sorry about your family,” Jessica finally said.

Matt nodded, still not sure how to respond to the condolences. As if acknowledging the tragedy made it real.

“How long are you in town?” she asked, trying to evade the awkward moment.

“I’m not sure. The funeral is Sunday. I’ll probably leave soon after that, depending on whether my aunt needs anything.”

“Cindy is a character. I was surprised you weren’t staying with her.”

“I’m deathly allergic to cats. All my friends from New York are staying at the Adair Motel, so it made sense.” The truth was that his aunt was best taken in small doses, so the cats were a convenient excuse.

Jessica nodded as if she remembered his severe cat allergy, but he suspected she didn’t. Matt flashed to a memory of himself as a young boy, visiting a family friend, gasping for air, wheezing, his mother running the shower, rubbing his back, telling him to breathe in the steam.

“A bunch of reporters were at the bar last night, complaining about the motel. I heard them talking, saying even more are on the way. The national newspeople.”