Burying Water (Burying Water #1)(97)

This can’t be happening. I stumble backward, the urge to vomit overwhelming.

“Water, just wait.”

“It’s not Water,” I choke out. “Water isn’t real. She never was.”

Away. I need to get away.

“Alex!” Jesse shouts, his voice cracking.

I don’t stop. I run toward home—or whatever it is now—not caring about tripping or my leg buckling or anything except surrounding myself within a set of walls. I see Ginny standing halfway between her house and the fence line.

Without thinking, I run to her.

“How much did you hear?” I ask between sobs. I didn’t even know I was crying.

She heaves a shaky sigh. “Enough.” Her arm reaches around my shoulders in a very non-Ginny way; a way that I need right now. “Come on.”

She leads me up her stairs, across her porch.

And in through her front door.

THIRTY-FIVE

Jesse

then

“Don’t be nervous. They’re going to love you.” I give her hand a squeeze as we cut a path up to my parents’ house, the thin layer of snow crunching under our boots. The sheriff’s car sits in its usual spot, my mom’s sedan parked next to it.

Alex and I have kept in close touch through texts these past two weeks, as we finalize plans. When she mentioned that Viktor would be heading to Seattle on business for the weekend, I told her to pack a few bags. And then I called my mother, to make sure that my parents would be home.

I haven’t figured out how I’m going to break the news to them—that they’ll have a tenant on their property beginning next weekend. I guess I’ll let them fall in love with her first. It shouldn’t be hard.

I’m pretty sure it took me only one night.

Of course, the whole “and she’s pregnant with her husband’s baby” topic would complicate things. I’m just going to have to lie and tell them that it’s mine. I’m still not sure if I’m ready to admit to them that she’s married. She made sure to leave her ring in her purse.

My mom greets us at the sliding door into the kitchen, in jeans and a sweater, looking nothing like the esteemed surgeon and every bit like the mom who used to bring Cheez Whiz sandwiches to me on those lazy summer days while I sat perched on the workbench, watching my granddad tinker with his Ford truck.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Alex.” My mom squeezes Alex’s shoulder in greeting, her smile broad and genuine. Besides the odd friend of Amber’s that I dated—and inevitably got bored of—my parents have never met any of my girlfriends. When I told her I was bringing Alex up to meet them, there was a good five seconds of dead silence on the receiver.

“This is Jesse’s father, Gabe,” my mom says, sliding her arm around my dad’s waist.

“The sheriff, right?” Alex says, taking his extended hand.

“Just Gabe around these parts.” He’s smiling. It’s rare to see him smile, period, and damn near impossible when it has anything to do with me.

“It’s too bad Jesse’s sister, Amber, isn’t here to meet you, but she’s working.”

Alex’s eyes flicker to me. “I’m sure I’ll have a chance to meet her sometime soon.”

“Please, sit.” My mom gestures to the table, a platter of nachos and salsa out. One of Mom’s specialties.

Maybe Alex can finally teach that woman how to cook.

“Your parents are so nice.”

I throw an extra-large log into the woodstove. “They really liked you. I could tell.” I could also tell that my mom is dying to interrogate me.

“Are they still going to like me when they find out?”

I glance over my shoulder in time to see Alex’s hand smooth over her abdomen. It still doesn’t feel real, that there’s a human being growing inside her. I try to picture what she’s going to look like lying on the floor in those pillows with a big, round belly.

With Viktor’s kid.

I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bother me at all. But it should bother me more than it does. “They’ll be fine with you. They probably won’t like me too much for a while, but . . .” I sigh, holding a marshmallow above the flame to brown. “It won’t be the first time I’ve disappointed them.”

“You know, you and your father are a lot alike. You’re both very quiet, but with this calm, strong presence. You look a lot alike, too. Those eyes . . .” I feel her gaze on my profile. “I’ve always loved your eyes.”

“Are you telling me you have the hots for my dad? Do I have to worry about you alone here for the next two months?” I’m not moving back until March. Alex is worried that both of us disappearing around the same time will look suspicious. I think she’s being overly paranoid, but I’ve agreed to humor her. Gives me more time to find a job around here, too, where mechanic jobs are hard to come by.

I catch the pillow she flings at my head with one hand and toss it back, chuckling. “We’re alike in some ways. Very different in others. You should have heard the fights we had. I was a bad teenager,” I admit. “I made his life hell, but he was hard on me, too.”

“That’s because he loves you so much, not because he doesn’t. I’m sure that, when the time comes that you really need him, you’ll be able to count on him.”