Kelly said, “That’s amazing. You know, I was homecoming and prom queen back when I was in high school.”
And when was that, three years ago? Elise thought.
“It wasn’t homecoming court or anything. Just the planning committee,” Molly said.
“It’s still super important. Homecoming planning, newspaper editor. You got a lot going, girl. You’re beautiful and have a big heart and smarts to boot,” Kelly said.
Molly smiled shyly, and Andrew gave her a nudge with his elbow. This made Elise smile, but when she saw Sean’s reaction, her expression fell.
“We’re very proud of Molls,” Sean said.
“I’m glad to hear she’s still doing well, all things considered,” Michael said.
Sean set his silverware down, laced his fingers, and propped his elbows on the table. Dick-sizing round two. “All things considered?”
It felt like the room temperature had risen a few notches, like bubbles forming on the bottom of a warming pot. She stopped chewing.
Michael said, “Well, you uprooted her from a good school—her friends—to live here. That would be hard on any teenager.”
“I wasn’t aware you were a psychologist,” Sean said.
“I’ve just learned a few things while chasing ambulances.”
Elise wet her tongue with a sip of water. “Guys.”
Sean said, “No, it’s okay. It’s a fair comment. She’s doing great because we tutor her and help her along. And the school quality here is fine, thank you very much.”
“Wasn’t implying anything,” Michael said. He took another bite.
“Of course you weren’t.”
Everyone else around the table stared at their plates.
“You never are trying to imply anything, are you, Michael?” Sean said. “Just planting little seeds then backing out before you’re caught doing it.”
“Sean, please.” Michael said to Elise, “This chicken’s good.”
“Just trying to back out,” Sean said.
“Come on, Sean.”
“Come on, what?”
“Just let it go.”
“What’s your problem?”
“I don’t have a fucking problem.”
“Hey, watch your language in front of the kids.”
“I’ll watch my language when you agree to watch your kids.”
Elise’s heart dropped into her bowels. Her husband’s eyes burned with cold fury. His body leaned forward like he was seconds away from lunging across the table and slugging him. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Sean asked with clamped teeth.
“Yeah, what does that mean?” Elise said, growing angrier.
Michael slid his chair back and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I’m going to the bathroom.”
“I asked, what’s that supposed to mean?” Sean said.
Michael set the napkin down and told Elise, “The food was great.”
He walked around his sister and exited into the kitchen. The air followed him out, leaving a void. She couldn’t believe he said that. He crossed that line.
Sean sat back in his seat, but every muscle fiber under his skin was taut. He picked up a fork and jabbed his food. Elise tried to make eye contact with him, to show her support for him, but he just looked down at the middle of the table. He needed to know she didn’t hold the accident against him.
Because he never had forgiven himself for what happened to Gracie.
Chapter 4
SEAN LAY IN bed wishing he had taken one of his sleeping pills. His mind played the events from dinner as if on repeat. Every replay was an opportunity to change what he had said, to fantasize that his words were stronger, more impactful. Or that he had punched his brother-in-law’s teeth out.
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
Clearly there was.
He spun around until his feet came off the bed, listening to the steady rhythm of his wife’s breathing. He set his elbows on his knees and planted his face into his hands. Michael and Elise’s after dinner screaming match replayed. Sean had taken Aidan upstairs to shield him from it and ushered Andrew out. Then he had gone up to his bedside nightstand, to his gun safe disguised as a battery-powered alarm clock. He entered the code and a metal slide, just big enough to fit his pistol, popped out. He stored his gun inside. Dangerous weapons plus a temper were a terrible combination.
Now, he watched the red numbers on another clock switch over to four a.m., and he thought he heard an engine outside. His mind playing tricks. He rubbed his face and revisited dinner. It was foolish to replay the argument again. He tried to shake it away, but it stuck in his mind.
While he usually would grab his gun during his late-night walks around the home, he decided against it, his temper still flared. The bed squeaked, rising from it. He shuffled toward the door and left without making another noise.
The darkness sapped most of the color from the hallway, leaving just blacks and grays. The floorboards creaked under his weight. When he reached the banister, he turned instead of going down, walking along the railing overlooking the stairs before diverting into a short hallway. At the end was an office with a desk, safe, and full bookshelves. He didn’t turn the light on.
The swaying trees outside brushed against the home’s siding. He stood by a window, pinned one venetian blind down with his finger, and looked out at the front yard. It was something fierce outside, worse than usual. The snow was cloudy and thick.
Getting Michael and Kelly out would be difficult. Elise was adamant about them leaving—and so was Sean—but the snow wouldn’t cooperate. Michael’s luxury car was practically buried.
A loud thump carried through the wall like something had hit it. He froze and then reached down for the gun he didn’t have. He waited. The room next to the office was Molly’s, and she kicked while sleeping. That was it. Had to be.
It nagged him though. He tiptoed around the banister and toward Molly’s room, trying to be quiet, but a groan escaped from the floor every few steps. He leaned toward the door and listened. The wind howled outside, but otherwise everything was silent. He reached out to turn the doorknob, just to check in on her, but relented. If someone had broken in, Sean would have heard movement in the baseboards. He relaxed and returned to bed.
As he pulled the covers over himself, his mind replayed his earlier conversation with Michael. No use trying to fight thoughts that wouldn’t stop. Michael had said, “Well, if anything happens, I’ll make sure to come to you guys first.”
Sean changed the scene, a grin on his face, and said, “And I’d turn you away.”
SEAN WOKE TO the smell of faint smoke.
He scrunched his nose and reached toward the other side of the bed to find crumpled, cold sheets. He looked over at his safe/clock. Eight in the morning. He was usually the first awake, even after a sleepless night. Maybe it was for the better.
The curtains, normally back-lit by a translucent flush of morning light, were opaque instead. He bent at the waist and rubbed his arms. Nobody had turned up the thermostat. He shot out of bed and threw on a sweater, thick robe, and slippers. Considered going downstairs. Elise would be there—but he wasn’t sure who else might be. He couldn’t spend his whole day in hiding, so he walked to the banister.
He looked down the hall. Aidan’s door was wide open—he was an early riser like his dad—but Molly’s was still closed. He tried not to hound her for sleeping late, but the last few months she seemed to do it more than normal. He detoured toward her room and tapped his knuckles on her door. “Sweetheart, you up?” He waited. And then knocked again. “Molls, it’s time to get up.”