A Drunkard's Path (5 page)

“I’m not doing anything, Grandma,” I said. “I’m just a busybody like everyone else in town.”

She nodded. “Anyway, you have to concentrate on school. And Jesse.”

“It’s just a first date, if we ever actually go on it. Don’t go imagining we’re in love, because we’re not.”

Eleanor let go of my hand and reached for the door. She got out of the car before she spoke again.

“Don’t be so sure that love isn’t important,” she said. “Love is the most important thing in the world.”

Before I could answer, she slammed her door and headed toward the house.

The next night I was in my bedroom, wondering if love
was
the most important thing in the world—or if the most important thing was the right pair of shoes. I held up the black boots I’d worn for my original date with Jesse, along with the black check skirt and pink sweater I’d been wearing that night. It was a perfect date outfit, but I figured it was bad luck to wear the same thing I’d been wearing when Jesse stood me up, so I went through my closet in search of something else. After trying on three pairs of pants, two skirts, and a dress, I was back in the black check skirt but paired this time with a light blue sweater. That is, until I noticed the sweater had a spot on the sleeve, and then, after trying on nearly every top I owned, I settled on a black cashmere cardigan over a black silk tank.

When I put on my mascara, it left goop under my left eye that made me look like I’d been in a bar fight. In an effort to fix the problem, I ended up making it worse and had to do my makeup all over again. By the time I was searching for my favorite earrings, I was nearly in tears. What was the point of this anyway? I was a disaster in relationships, and this one hadn’t exactly gotten off to a good start. I was about to give up and call off the night when I heard an odd knocking at my door. Barney was pushing his head against it until he had enough room to nudge his entire body through. He walked over and sat in front of me, expectantly.

“I don’t have any cookies, old friend,” I said. He pushed his head under my hand. “Oh, you want a cuddle, do you?” I asked, but I already had my answer. I scratched his ears as he wagged happily. He rubbed his head against my skirt, and I couldn’t bear to push him away even though I knew I didn’t have time. I stayed five more minutes and petted the old dog, then frantically tried to brush off the evidence of our encounter.

As always I learned a little something from Barney. Happiness is a thing you have to go find for yourself, but dog hair is something that finds you.

When I arrived at the restaurant twenty minutes late, Jesse was looking at his watch.

“I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “I couldn’t figure out what to wear.”

He stood up as I got to my seat. “You look great.”

Then he paused and so did I. We couldn’t exactly shake hands, but should we kiss or touch or something? It was clear that neither of us knew what to do, so we sat down in embarrassed silence, grabbing menus to hide behind.

“How’s the investigation going?” I asked as soon as the waiter had taken our orders.

“It isn’t,” he admitted. “We found out that the woman was from Kitchener, in Ontario, Canada.”

“So that’s what Chief Powell meant by ‘down here,’ ” I said.

Jesse smiled. “Already on the case, I see.”

I knew I was blushing. “No, I just happened to chat with him outside the quilt shop yesterday, and he mentioned something about the girl coming down here to kill herself,” I said. “Only, he didn’t acknowledge that it wasn’t a suicide.”

Jesse nodded. “We still have no idea why she was in Archers Rest.”

“But you know that she was,” I said as the waiter put my salad down. “I mean, you know she wasn’t in a neighboring town.”

“No, I don’t. I just mean in the area.” Jesse took a stab at some lettuce. “Don’t look for hidden meanings in everything I say, Nell.”

“I wasn’t. I was just asking.” I went back to my salad, feeling a little scolded. Several minutes of silence passed. This date was not going well. “I signed up for classes,” I offered as a conversational olive branch.

Jesse’s face brightened. “Did you get that class you wanted?”

“No, it was all filled up. But I ran into the teacher outside the school, and he sort of suggested I just bully my way in.”

Jesse smiled. “Sounds like he’s figured you out.”

“So you think it’s a good idea to push my way into places I don’t belong?” I smiled. “That’s good to know.”

He laughed. “What did I tell you about finding hidden meanings?”

After dinner we walked toward the river. I waited for Jesse to take my hand, but he didn’t, so after a few blocks I put it in my pocket. All through dinner I got the feeling that we were more like friends out for a bite than people on a first date, and I was about to say that to Jesse when his phone rang.

“Now?” he said into the receiver. “All right. I’ll be there in a minute.” He hung up and looked at me sheepishly.

“Police business,” I said.

He nodded. “I’m sorry. I hate to cut the evening short.”

“It’s okay. We weren’t really planning anything else anyway.” I knew the disappointment I felt had crept into my voice, but I didn’t care.

Jesse stared at me for a long minute, then turned and walked toward the street. He stopped—his back to me. I wasn’t sure what to do, so I just waited. Finally he turned.

“Do you want to come?” he asked.

We walked into the state police lab just after ten o’clock. A large man with uncombed hair and thick glasses came toward Jesse at full speed.

“It doesn’t make sense,” he said as he handed Jesse a manila folder.

“What doesn’t make sense?” I knew I should probably keep quiet, but Jesse was studying the papers in the folder and the large man seemed anxious to talk.

“She was asleep. She had been given a double dose of diphenhydramine hydrochloride.”

“What’s that?” I asked.

Jesse looked up. “An over-the-counter sleeping medication.” He glanced toward me, then closed the folder and looked at the large man. “Dr. Parker, you’re saying that she was unconscious when she drowned.”

Dr. Parker’s eyes sparkled. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. I’ve rerun the tests just to be sure. Come with me.”

Without waiting, he started walking toward a double door at the back of the hallway. Jesse followed him, and since no one said I couldn’t, I did too.

Immediately upon entering the room, I regretted my decision. On a slab in the center of the room was the girl that had been taken from the river. A sheet covered her body but her head and shoulders were exposed. I had seen dead bodies before, I had even seen this one before, but this was different. A person who has just died still looks like a person, but this girl looked both real and artificial, her skin almost translucent. Never had death seemed as transformative as it did when I looked at the way her brown hair framed her frail features. Whoever Lily Harmon once was, she deserved better than to end up here so young.

“And then there’s this.” Dr. Parker directed Jesse closer to Lily’s body. He pulled the sheet back and I saw where she had been cut open for the autopsy and sewn together again. I wanted to throw up but I just took a deep breath.

“It’s a scar,” Jesse said as he stared at Lily’s body.

“We should go.” Jesse’s warm breath startled me back from wherever my mind had wandered. Even though I knew he was right, I lingered just a minute longer, staring at her, feeling oddly protective of this stranger. “Nell,” Jesse said.

I nodded and followed him out of the room and out of the building. After the chill of the morgue, even the frigid January temperatures didn’t seem so bad. I stood just outside the door and took a deep breath.

“I’d tell you that you get used to it, but you don’t really. You just pretend to,” Jesse said. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken you here.”

“No. I’m glad you did. I like seeing you at work. You’re so sure of yourself.”

Jesse blushed. “It’s a nice contrast to how unsure I am everywhere else.”

He stepped closer and took my hand. We had barely moved off the steps of the morgue before Jesse stopped and turned toward me. He swept my hair off my face and smiled. I knew what was coming, and suddenly I felt out of breath. He leaned in and bumped my nose.

“Ouch,” I laughed.

“That was supposed to go better.” He pulled away slightly. His right hand was cradling my head, so I knew he wasn’t going too far.

“You can give it another shot,” I said. “And if you—”

He leaned in again. “Shh.” He planted his lips on mine.

We kissed for five minutes, until the sounds of a coroner’s van reminded us of where we were.

 

 

 

 

“I
f I talk to the registrar again, maybe I can imply that Oliver White wants me in the class,” I said to my grandmother over breakfast on Thursday morning. “It wouldn’t exactly be a lie.” I took a bite of toast and swallowed some coffee before I changed my plan again. “Or I could go to the class today and see if anyone’s dropped out.”

“Or you could ask him,” Eleanor said flatly.

I looked up from my toast. “I can’t do that.” I searched for a reason why not and only came up with, “It’s too simple.”

Eleanor shook her head. “I forgot. You like to keep things complicated.”

“Well you can’t really spare me at the shop anyway,” I added. “It gets busy enough for two full-time people.”

“Don’t use me as your excuse.”

Eleanor got up and took my half-finished breakfast, giving the lone slice of bacon to Barney. My grandmother was about to celebrate her seventy-fourth birthday, but she had more energy and nerve than I ever did. She’d had a rough life. She lost her husband in a car accident and was left with two small children to raise and no money. Yet she built a successful business and a good life. Maybe she had learned somewhere along the way that, sometimes, you just have to ask.