Page 51 of The Lookback

“Besides, I have more questions,” Maren says. “You told us what happened that night—a big bunch of nothing—but you had a whole other year of school after that.” She levels an impressive glare at me. “So what happened during that last year?”

“Nothing, really,” I say.

“No plays?” she asks. “Or what about homecoming? Senior Prom?”

“Jed kept being a pain—angry with anyone who looked my way, but not willing to actually ask me out or even talk to me. Stubborn as a mule. And Tommy had already shown me two different times how he felt, or you know, didn’t feel.”

“Let’s head home.” Amanda pulls out her keys. “We can grill her on the way.”

“Grill who?” Eddy’s huffing a little. “Sorry I’m so late. I had animals to feed, and then the Gibson’s draft colicked.” He grabs Amanda by the side of her face and kisses her.

And then he keeps right on kissing her.

In the middle of the hospital, they kiss like he’s returning from war. I swear, I thought it would wear off, but it has not. Not even a little bit. Those two act like teenagers who don’t have a bedroom with a door.

I clear my throat.

“Seriously,” Maren says. “It’s so gross.”

Eddy’s smiling when he finally comes up for air. “I love your mother. You can’t hate me for that.”

“I guess not.” But Maren’s lip is curled. “But I can be disgusted about watching it on Prime Time.”

Emery giggles. “What’s that even mean, prime time?”

Maren shrugs. “Who knows? Some old television thing or something.”

“Hey, do you have your work truck?” I ask.

Eddy nods. “Fed the animals and then came straight here.”

I can tell—he’s in his work clothes. It’s hard to make Eddy look bad, but vets do not dress for success. They dress for abscesses and eye ulcers and hoof trims. “How about I take your truck home and you can ride with your wife and girls?” I hold out my hand for the keys. “Tomorrow morning, you can drop Amanda off at the retreat and pick up your truck.”

Eddy’s smile’s almost blinding. “You’re a genius and a saint.” He drops the keys in my hands.

And I escape.

No more explanations. No more grilling. No more pointed questions and interrogations. I’m free.

Amanda tries, feebly, to stop me, but I shoot out of the hospital and beeline for the old blue truck like an oil-slicked pig headed for its trough. I’mreadyto stop talking about Tommy.

Even so, the whole way home, I can’t help thinking about my senior year. It was a whole extra year, and we did not one, but two plays together—both musicals. But Tommy didn’t act in those, and neither did Jed. I was the lead in both, and I sang quite a few songs, but there wasn’t so much as amomentbetween me and either guy.

The only time I struggled that entire year was actually when that photo was taken, the one Emery found in the box. The one where both the boys are staring at me. But if I get lucky, life will distract the bloodhounds again and I’ll be home free. Tommy’s coming into town in a few days to sign some papers, and then I’ll purchase his family land, and he’ll have no reason to come back here, ever.

Not that it would be hard if it came to that. He hasn’t come back since his senior year, so I worried it might be painful when I saw him again, but it wasn’t. It was as easy as a Sunday morning brunch. As easy as a walk to Birch Creek, the stream that runs across the back of my property. As easy as a drive home from Rock Springs in the summer. By the time I turn down the driveway to my house, I’ve calmed down.

Tommy will come by, he’ll see that my house is just as he thought it would be, and he’ll sign those papers. Then he’ll leave, and all this painful past-dredging and all the questions will go away. I can live in peace again.

Only, when I pull up in front of my house, someone’s car is parked out front. It’s a dark blue sedan of some kind, and the plates say Hertz Rental Car. Who would be sitting outside my house at eleven at night? Did Helen’s fancy import break down? Or maybe she didn’t feel like it was safe to drive in the snow. Either way, she must have been flying to beat me home, because I thought we left first. There’s not much hope she’s already asleep. I assume she’s still planning to stay with me, even with all the baby drama we didn’t anticipate.

I brace myself for an interaction with Helen—her new business deal has kept her from being quite as involved with the retreat, and I won’t lie and say I’ve missed having her full attention directed our way. Every interchange with her feels like a game of tug-of-war. In her family, Abigail got all the chill, that’s for sure.

Which is really saying something. Abby’s not exactly relaxed.

As I walk up the steps, I expect the light in the family room to be on. Helen knows where my spare keys are kept, and I’m sure she grabbed one before she left. But the house is dark.

I hear Jed, rifling around inside as he hears my approach, but there are no other sounds.

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