Missing Pieces(10)
“What’s the matter, Jack?” Amy asked archly. “You don’t want to spend a night in the house of horrors?”
“Amy, just shut the hell up.” Dean’s face flushed with anger.
“What do you mean, house of horrors?” Sarah asked before she could stop herself. Up until then she had uncomfortably watched the tense exchange in silence. She didn’t really know Jack’s family, didn’t understand their dynamics, and it was clear that it was better for her to stay out of it.
“Never mind,” Jack said sharply, and Hal lowered his face into his hands.
“Please don’t fight. Not here.”
“You’re right,” Jack said. “You should get some sleep. We can take you back to your house.”
“Stay with me,” Hal insisted. “It’s silly for you to stay in a hotel. I want to sleep in my own bed, but I can’t stand the thought of going home to an empty house. Please stay.”
“Sure, Hal,” Jack said soothingly. “We’ll stay at your house.” To Dean he said, “Thanks for the offer, but it would be strange staying in the old house.”
Why would it be strange? Sarah wondered. And what did Amy mean by “house of horrors”? It brought to Sarah’s mind an image of chain saws and rubber knives, a silly Halloween gag. And yet the words lingered in her thoughts. Was Amy just being dramatic, like Jack said she always was, or was there more to it than that? And why had Jack brushed her off when she asked about it?
She wanted to believe that he’d meant nothing by it, that he was merely trying to keep his family from combusting. But she had a sinking feeling that there was more to it than that. Jack was keeping something from her.
3
THE AUTOMATIC DOORS that led out to the parking lot slid open with an airy hum. A steady rain was falling and the lights that edged the parking lot illuminated the wet pavement, giving it a glossy, slick sheen. Fat raindrops sent ripples through standing puddles and the temperature had dropped ten degrees since they arrived in Penny Gate.
As Sarah and Jack walked through the quiet parking lot toward their rental car, Sarah wrapped her coat tightly around herself, chilled to the bone, the icy rain drenching her hair. Confusion and questions bounced around in her mind like a Ping-Pong ball. Sarah waited until they were out of Hal’s earshot before speaking.
“Jack, what did Amy mean by ‘house of horrors’?”
Jack slid his hands into his pockets and Sarah tried to keep up, the slap of their footfalls echoing throughout the nearly deserted parking lot. “I really don’t want to talk about this right now.”
She tried to keep any accusation from her voice, any irritation. She wanted to give Jack the benefit of the doubt, but she could hear the reproach in her voice. Jack sped up as if trying to avoid her.
“Jack, wait,” she said, snagging his sleeve to try to get him to slow down, and he shook her away.
By the time they reached the car, both of them were soaked, their hair flattened, raindrops dripping from their noses. Jack unlocked the doors and they climbed in. He placed the key in the ignition, and Sarah reached over and put her hand over his. “Jack, talk to me. Please.”
Jack pulled his hand away and sat back in his seat. “There isn’t anything to say. You know Amy. She’s exhausted, Aunt Julia is hurt and Amy’s scared. Everything becomes one big drama and she lashes out.”
Jack turned the key and the car rumbled to life. Sarah knew she only had Jack to herself for just a moment longer.
“I’m not trying to fight with you,” Sarah said quietly, trembling as much from Jack’s loud indignation as from the cold. “I’m just trying to understand.”
“I know.” Jack lowered his voice. “Hal’s waiting. Can we just talk about this later?” he asked, but before she could respond, Jack had backed up the car and pulled out of the spot. Their conversation would have to wait.
He drove the car to the front of the hospital entrance where Hal was waiting for them.
“You remember how to get to the house?” Hal asked.
“Of course,” Jack answered. “How could I forget?”
As they pulled away from the hospital and back onto the highway, darkness enveloped them. They drove in silence, each of them lost in their own thoughts. Sarah’s mind drifted to Julia, the image of her limp body hooked up to all those tubes and wires. She couldn’t imagine what Hal was going through, what it was like to be so close to losing a spouse. Could she live without Jack if she had to? She shook off the thought.
They drove past an expansive field, and Jack pointed into the dark. “I worked in that field for eight summers,” Jack recalled.
“I remember,” Hal said with a nostalgic laugh. “I had to drag you out of bed each morning.”
“That was hard work,” Jack said. He held up one hand, putting it on display. “I think I still have calluses.”
Sarah sat back and looked out the window. The countryside seemed to have gone to sleep. Farmhouses were dark and still, and hulking equipment lay dormant in the fields. No other cars were on the road, and the rain continued to beat steadily on the roof of the car. The rhythmic swish of the windshield wipers was hypnotic and Sarah found her eyes growing heavy.
Jack slowed the car and carefully turned onto a gravel road. The rain had washed away much of the loose rock and the car bumped and bucked through the deep gouges in the road. Sarah grabbed the dashboard to steady herself. Walls of corn rose ten feet above the ground, surrounding them on both sides, a narrow tunnel nearly obscuring the sky. Sarah peered into the dark shadows between the stalks, wondering what might be lurking in the night.