Sara waited, not understanding.
"The fight with her mama. They were arguing because Jessie showed up stoned out of her mind. Drunk on something, taking pills, whatever. Her mama always blamed me for that even though Faith's drunk most days, out there swigging out of a flask when she's supposed to be watering the garden. That's how Jessie got through her life with me. That's how she dealt with my failures. She took pills to keep the pain back."
Sara heard the next-door neighbor slam his front door again. Sara waited, hoping he would come over to ask about his dogs, but the car started and she heard him reverse down the driveway.
"Jessie meant to shoot me," Robert told Sara, looking out the window, probably watching the neighbor head down the street. "She pulled the trigger because she was so shocked. She didn't exactly think it through, but she meant to shoot me, not him. At least that's what she told me later. Said she was so drunk that first she thought there were two of me and I'd finally managed to go fuck myself." He ran his tongue along his top teeth. "I didn't even know she was there. I hear Luke saying in my ear, 'Hey, how about it? You wanna join the party?' I didn't know what the hell he was talking about. Later, I figured he was talking to her. Provoking her, even though he had to see she had a gun in her hand. That's what he did with people, just pushed and pushed until they were over the edge."
"She shot him."
"I was wearing my T-shirt, but…" His voice trailed off, and he swallowed hard before continuing. "I felt this spray on my back, like this kind of mist. I didn't hear the sound until later, like two or three seconds later. It must have been faster than that, but my brain just kind of slowed it down. You know how it does that?"
Sara nodded. She knew from her own experience that trauma slowed things down, as if pain was something to be savored rather than endured.
"There was this kind of pop, like a balloon or something." He took a deep breath. "Then he slumped against me, and I felt this wet…" He shook his head at the memory. "He slid down my back."
Sara remembered how Robert had kept his back to the wall that night, gripping his shirt tightly in his hand. He must have been covered in blood.
"It was so fast afterward. Slow as it was when it happened, the rest was so fast."
"What happened?"
"Jessie shot at me."
"She missed," Sara said, remembering the bullet hole in the wall.
"I grabbed my backup out of the armoire. The safe wasn't even locked. After we lost the baby…" He shook his head, obviously not wanting to talk about that. "I wasn't even really thinking, other than maybe wishing the bullet hadn't missed when she fired." Robert paused. "She stopped, like she couldn't shoot me, even though she'd seen what I was. I just stood there for maybe a second, and I could suddenly see it all – everyone finding out what had happened, finding out who I am, and I put the gun to my belly and pulled the trigger."
"You were lucky it didn't do more damage."
"It was so fast," he repeated. "I couldn't even think. It was like…" He snapped his fingers.
Sara was quiet, hearing the snap echo like gunfire.
"It didn't hurt much," he added. "I thought it would hurt, but it wasn't until later that I felt the pain."
"Was it Jessie's idea to say you'd done it?"
"Hell no," he said, and she wondered if he was telling the truth. "She went over and grabbed a handful of pills. Spilled most of them on the floor. I just looked around, thinking, 'Fuck, what can I do?' "
"What did you do?"
"I guess I must've known what I was going to do when I pulled the trigger, but it took a while before my brain kicked in. I picked up the gun and the casings and wiped them off. A couple'a three seconds later, I heard somebody kick open the back door. I tossed everything on the floor, put the gun by his hand. Jeffrey came in, screaming, 'What the hell happened?' He went out to get you and I told Jessie to open the window and push out the screen. First time in her life she ever did something I told her to do without asking why."
"What about the bullet?" Sara asked. Robert had given the bullet to Reggie when he had confessed.
"Jessie got it out later. I don't know when, but she gave it to me. She told me exactly where she had found it in his head. Said it was my souvenir."
Sara knew there was only one time Jessie was alone with the body, and that was when Jeffrey and Sara were on the porch outside, waiting for Hoss. She must have sneaked in while they were arguing.
"Jessie's a lot smarter than folks think," Robert continued. "When y'all got there, she just played along, acted like she was too high to follow what was going on. Me, I was freaking out. I saw all the words coming out of my mouth, making up the story, not even thinking about the parts that didn't make sense. She let me do it, just stood there, letting me feed out enough rope to hang myself."
"Why?" Sara asked, still not understanding. "Why did you lie?"
"Because I'd rather be a cold-blooded murderer than a faggot."
The finality of his words hung heavy in the air, and Sara had never felt more sorry for anyone in her life.
"I'm just not right, Sara." He paused, as if he needed time to collect himself. "If I could get a knife and cut it out of me, I would. I'd cut out my fucking heart to be normal."
"You are normal," she insisted. "There's nothing wrong with you."
"It's too late."
"You can stop this," she said. "You can stop this right now. You don't have to leave. You're innocent, Robert. You didn't do any of this. None of it's your fault."
"All of it's my fault," he insisted. "I've sinned, Sara. I've sinned against God. I've broken my vows. I've been with another man. I wished him dead so many times. Jessie pulled the trigger, but I put him there. I brought him into our house. There's no going back now."
"You are who you are," she told him, even as she saw there was no reasoning with him. "You have no reason to be ashamed."
"Yes," he said, picking up the gun. "I do."
"Oh, God -"
He pointed the gun directly at her head, his hand steady. Sara closed her eyes, thinking of all the things she had never done in her life, wondering how her parents would get through this. Tessa still needed her, and Jeffrey…there was so much that Sara had left unsaid. She would give anything right now to be with him, feel his arms around her.
"You're not a murderer," she told him, her throat straining from the effort.
"I'm so sorry," Robert said, standing close enough for her to smell the sweat on him. Sara felt the cold metal of the gun press into her forehead, and she cried in earnest now, her eyes shut against everything else in the room. She heard the safety disengage, and another murmured apology.
"Please," she whispered. "Please don't. Please." She said the only thing that she thought might get through to him. "I'm pregnant."
The gun stayed where it was a few long seconds before it dropped, and Robert cursed under his breath.
She opened her eyes to find his back to her. His shoulders shook, and she thought he was crying until he turned around. Terror struck through her as she realized that he was laughing.
"Pregnant?" he repeated, as if she had just told the punch line to a really good joke.
"Robert -"
"Everything comes so goddamn easy to him."
Instantly, Sara realized her mistake. "I didn't -"
"Jesus," he hissed, pointing the gun back at her head. His hand shook this time, and he faltered, cursing again. "Fuck."
"Jeffrey doesn't know," she said, desperate to find the right thing to say. "He doesn't know!"