“What were you expecting?”
Jack looked out at the water. He tucked his cold hands in his jacket pockets. “I don’t know. You stare at something long enough, your mind starts to play tricks on you.”
Harrington began to say something, but held it. Then said, “I know what you mean, I keep trying to put together that winning parlay. Lions were getting 7, I thought they were a lock at plus 17. I had it, but shit never works out the way you plan it. I guess if it did, I wouldn’t be doing this. I’d be playing left tackle. Fuckin’ hamstring.” Harrington stretched and scratched at the sky with a loud moan. He took a few steps towards the water. “They must be freezing down there. Shit, it’s cold. This is taking too long, maybe we should just drain it.”
Jack walked over to the driver’s side of his car. “Call me when they find something. You’re in charge now.” Jack climbed in and closed the door. Harrington hardly had time to process what Jack had just said when Jack started the engine and threw it in reverse.
Harrington threw his hands up. “Where are you going? Whaddya mean I’m in charge now? You make it sound like you’re not coming back.” Jack reached the road and stopped, eyeballed Harrington over the steering wheel. Their gaze locked for a brief moment, Harrington sensed Jack was saying goodbye. Jack straightened out onto the road and drove off, kicking up a cloud of brown dust.
“Jack?” Harrington jogged up to the road, watching Jack leave. He meandered back down to the water’s edge, his makeshift seat now driven away.
He spotted a ripple in the water. A diver emerged, his head popping up with a loud burst of air. The diver spun around, disorientated. He found Harrington on the shore. Harrington held his palms up, anything? The diver shook his head, no.
CHAPTER 57
Robert’s home was a small three bedroom colonial with beige siding and a chain-link fence. There was a gate in the center, the hinge broken. He stood on the front steps, greeting two more guests at the door. A man and a woman handed him a wrapped gift with a card taped on top.
“Thanks guys, come on in.” Robert lodged the gift under his arm and waved them across the threshold. Patricia gave them a second greeting from the living room, which was overflowing with guests now.
“Oh my gosh, you’re ready to burst!” the woman said, extending her hands out to touch Patricia’s very pregnant middle, bulging under her sweater. Trish smiled and allowed the guest to rub her stomach, beginning to feel more like a sideshow attraction than a party host. She wiped her sweaty forehead and smiled, initiating small talk, even though she felt a little nauseous and tired.
Robert noticed, but didn’t pay it too much mind. She’d been feeling off for a few days — she’d just gotten over a cold — probably just remnants of it lingering.
Robert stepped outside and watched the street, scanning the passing traffic expectantly. Cars were parked all along the curb in both directions. One was partially blocking his neighbor’s driveway. He would tell them to move it, anticipating the obligatory complaint. Not that he really cared; they were moving soon, he’d never see most of these people again.
His manufactured grin cued up as another late guest folded back the broken gate and walked up the path to greet him with a handshake. He ushered him inside.
His expression dimmed as he took one last look. He stepped back inside and closed the door. Patricia could see the disappointment in his face. She walked over and took his hand. “We’re what’s important today; us, the baby, nothing else.” His eyes greeted hers and she pulled him close with an affectionate one armed hug. They rejoined the party as the happy couple.
CHAPTER 58
Jack stood in front of the bathroom mirror. He ran a comb through his hair and splashed a little water on his face. He gently patted the water off his cheeks, staring at his reflection. He wondered, how much longer would he be Jack Ridge? Would he ever look through someone else’s eyes? Or was this it — a few months of agonizing pain, then oblivion. No absolution, no summation of his journey.
Judgment? God? He wanted to believe, but doubt and disappointment clung tight. He recalled a case he’d worked on years ago, when he first started. A boy, about 15, had been hailed as a hero for battling — and finally beating — cancer. Surviving a long, arduous battle that many local people donated money to support. There were plastic buckets with his picture beside every cash register in town.
A week after being released from the hospital, he was killed while walking to school, hit by a sanitation truck that had turned a corner too quickly and skidded. It was an accident. Jack was assigned to the case as a patrol officer, this was long before he’d made detective.
It was a gruesome task, the boy’s body was mangled beyond recognition. Jack remembered someone making an off-hand comment about the irony of it all. He labeled that particular moment as the moment he stopped believing in God. By the time Sarah met with her fate, he was already a full blown cynic.
Sarah’s accident, however, was the pivot that could have turned him in either direction. Had she recovered miraculously, perhaps if God had answered his prayers and pulled her through, his faith might have been challenged and restored. But it just didn’t happen that way. The penny landed heads down.
Jack had met many individuals who’d lost their religion upon coming home and finding their loved ones murdered, countless stories of undeserved sorrow that led to an unraveling of faith. But then there were others who’d found religion as they watched their six year old daughter dance in her first ballet recital. A roll of the dice. And only a few chips left to squander, Jack.
He grabbed the card Robert had given him off his dresser and re-read it. Still the same address. Robert’s home wasn’t far from where Laura lived, a few miles or so.
He returned to the bedroom and opened the closet. He spotted the navy blue suit he’d bought to be buried in. He removed it from its cover for only the second time, the unraveling of the plastic felt like a second chance at a new beginning.
He put it on and shrugged the shoulders, the give was comfortable. It was a good match with his tie, dark blue stripes. He slapped his hands at his sides. “Okay.”
Jack got into his car and drove to the end of his street when he realized he was heading to a party without a present.
He pulled into a strip of stores. He entered a small antique place and picked out a very nice centerpiece for a dining room table. It was expensive, but he’d saved a lot of money over the years. Many nights home alone, cooking for himself. He could afford it. He certainly didn’t need to hoard for retirement.
It felt good to buy something for someone, especially something expensive. It was a strange time to think about it, but as he factored in his head just how much money he probably did have saved in the bank, he realized he didn’t have a will.
The cashier asked him if he wanted it wrapped, snapping him back to attention.
“Yes, please.”
He placed the box, wrapped in pink and teal paper with a beautiful ribbon that curled at the ends, in his car. He could have never done that himself; he was glad he spent the extra five bucks.
He closed the trunk and spotted a department store anchored at the end of the strip mall.
He walked the aisles of the large store, searching. He stopped a clerk to ask a question. The clerk held up his hand and told him to wait a minute, then disappeared. Jack decided not to wait. He turned down another aisle, what do you get for a new baby? He found the children’s toys, spotted a stuffed teddy bear and tucked it under his arm. He continued walking, passing the large screen TVs, the appliances. He reached the sporting goods aisle and found the other thing he was looking for.