Dreamland(66)

Outside, flashes of lightning continued to split the sky, and thunder boomed above the sound of pouring rain. The house grew dim, more oppressive, but it meant absolutely nothing. Life meant nothing, and the future was blacker than the world outside, no matter what she did. Every road she’d imagined had come to a dead end, and there was nothing but oblivion.

Tommie.

She realized that she’d never watch him play soccer or football or hit a home run while she clapped in the stands; she’d never see him dressed up before homecomings or proms. She’d never watch him develop a crush for the first time or bask in excitement early on Christmas morning. She’d never see him drive a car or become a young man or graduate from high school and college, and she’d never hear his laughter again.

All those chances had turned to dust and ashes, but even crying seemed pointless. Doing anything was pointless, and for a long time she couldn’t summon the will to move. Her breath slowed while the blue fog thickened, bringing anguish and loss and unlimited sorrow, as though her soul was being inked with poison. The past was a horror show and the future promised nothing but pain, but the present was even worse, suffocating in its intensity.

Deliberately, she rose from the couch. As if in a trance, she slowly climbed the stairs, her hand and knee and finger throbbing in pain, but she deserved all of it, because she’d failed her son.

On the floor in Tommie’s room was the plastic garbage bag, the one she’d dragged around the house while searching for drugs. Beverly turned on the lamp and sat on the edge of the bed. Buried in it were the pill bottles she’d found in the bathroom, and she began digging through the sandy rodent killer, searching for what she needed.

She pulled the pill bottles out one by one and read the labels, dropping to the floor the ones she didn’t recognize. In time she found the Ambien, the vial more than half full. Dropping the bag, she left the room and went downstairs.

In the kitchen, she ignored the smell of burned chicken and the hamburger that was now spoiling. She ignored the mess and looked past the blood on the counter. Instead, she filled a glass of water from the faucet. Glancing out the window, she knew that Gary would be here soon, along with a host of law enforcement. But she didn’t care anymore about being arrested; she didn’t care about anything, for there was nothing left to care about and there was no way out.

Wandering back upstairs, she went to Tommie’s room and sat on the side of his bed. She dumped the pills from the bottle into her hand, then tossed them into her mouth, washing all of them down with water. She lay back, thinking that Tommie’s scent already seemed to have vanished completely. But it would be over soon, the sensation of finality ringing so loud that it muted everything she’d been feeling over the last few hours.

Closing her eyes, Beverly felt momentary relief.

Then she felt nothing at all.





I’d hoped Morgan and I could linger over breakfast, but she told me that she couldn’t because of rehearsal. Instead, she kissed me, then hopped into the shower, and after she threw on her sundress, I drove her back to the Don.

A family with children was standing in the hotel lobby, and I saw Morgan’s gaze flicker to them before she gave me a chaste kiss that left me longing for more. She’d invited me to come by the pool later to hang out with her and her friends, and though I wanted her all to myself, I accepted that it was their last week together, as well.

I did a shorter run than usual, stopping to pick up breakfast tacos from a stand. I ate them in the parking lot while still sweating, my mind on Morgan. She’d been quiet on the drive to the hotel, seemingly dazed, which I appreciated because I felt the same way. It wasn’t possible to fall in love so quickly, but somehow we had, and I think she needed some time to sort through it. I also suspected she wasn’t looking forward to the discussion that would inevitably arise with her friends. If she barely understood what had happened, then she probably assumed that her friends wouldn’t understand it, either.

As for me, I was also thinking about the fact that Morgan and I had only a few more days together, and I couldn’t help but wonder if she’d spend the next couple of hours coming to her senses and realize that she’d been mistaken about her feelings all along.

Sometime after we’d fallen asleep, the power had come on, so after I got back and showered, I took some time to clean up the condo. At the appointed hour, I drove to the Don and made my way to the pool deck. Morgan and her friends were already there, clad in colorful bikinis and soaking up the sun. The small table between the chairs was littered with tubes of sunscreen and a large bottle of water, along with leftover cups of green drinks. Thoughtfully, there was an empty chaise longue saved beside Morgan, topped with a couple of folded towels.

Holly was the first to see me, and she offered a quick hello; the others—even Morgan—waved nonchalantly, as though unaware that Morgan hadn’t returned to the hotel the night before. I thought about kissing Morgan but opted not to, in case it embarrassed her, and did my best to play it cool, even though the sight of Morgan in her bikini triggered tantalizing flashbacks. For a few minutes, no one said anything; for all intents and purposes, we could have been strangers who happened to be seated beside one another. Maybe I was wrong, I thought; perhaps Morgan and her friends hadn’t discussed the situation at all. Then Maria cleared her throat.

“So, Colby…how did your night go?” she asked.