Jayne Doe (8 page)

“Hey, Mom,” Jayne says as she looks down at the couch. “I’ll be right back. I just need to use the bathroom.”

Mom's out cold.

She rushes back to the end of the house and kneels down at the toilet. She pukes her guts out for a minute or two.
Why in the world is she so sick all the time?
She gets up to her feet and rinses her mouth out before going back out to mom.

Her cell phone buzzes.

Johnny.

She won’t answer.

This only makes things worse. I can tell how pissed off he is.

She taps the front of the screen and sends him a text:

Jayne: Hey Babe. Ran into some trouble this morning. I’ll call you as soon as I can. Love ya

Johnny: My car got a hit and run today and you won’t even answer your phone

Jayne: I’m sorry. I’m in the middle of something really bad too.

Johnny: Screw that I need to talk to you

She’s having a hard time getting herself to lie to him.

“Tell him to take a hike.”

Jayne: My truck got ripped off today. I think Billy or Martha ran it out of gas.

She knows she can’t explain why she would be at the canyon divide and not at work. Billy and Martha make a much better escape route. Even their friends are easy targets.

Johnny: Are you serious

Jayne: Yes. I am talking to someone who might know what happened right now.

Her heart thunders as she texts the string of white lies. I’m pretty sure these are turning into big fat lies, but we both know it’s the only way for her to stay alive. Part of me is afraid of what Johnny would do if he ever finds out. The other part just wants him to hurry up and get caught for what he did to me, so he can rot in prison for the rest of his life. Then I won’t have to worry about Jayne.

Johnny: Babe are you okay

Jayne: Yes. I m fine.

Johnny: Where are you

She doesn’t know how to answer.

Johnny: Do you need me to come pick you up

She feels a little relief he’s not asking more details. That he’s buying into the dumb brother and sister gig.

Jayne: No I just got home.

His temper flares. It must be bad if I can feel it through text. He’s going crazy.

Johnny: Who the hell are you with

She begins to text,
no one
, but he sends her another text before she can.

Johnny: Are you with a guy

I want to reach through her phone and strangle his controlling, jealous neck.

Johnny: What is his name

Johnny: I’ll kick his ass

Jayne searches for new topic. Something to get him to stop.

Jayne: Billy’s girlfriend brought me home. She’s too cute for him. She’s probably just a girl that’s his friend. I bet he doesn’t even know her.

She’s really digging herself a hole. Now she’s got accomplices.

Johnny: I bet she’s a dyke

Jayne: She looks like one. LOL

Johnny: Would you make out with her in front of me

He’s starting to get aroused and it’s grossing me out. I pull back a little. I don’t want to be in his thoughts or this conversation.

Jayne: Babe I ll call you in a minute. She’s just about to leave.

She wants to put down the phone. She knows this conversation isn’t going to go anywhere positive. No matter what she says.

A heavy knock sounds at the door, startling both of us. I concentrate as she wanders over to it.

Casey?

He’s standing on the front porch as Jayne pulls the door open. “I’m sorry to bother you, but can I borrow a scoop of laundry soap? My mom just ran out and I need to put some sheets in the wash for her.” He’s totally lying. Casey is the most unguarded person I have ever met. His thoughts are like an open book. He bought soap yesterday at Costco. He wants to talk to Jayne.

Jayne welcomes him in. “Yes, of course. How is your mom doing?” She starts heading to the kitchen, almost to the hallway. “Give me just a second, I’ll be right back.”

Casey nods and stares at her as she disappears. Then he starts rambling,
Hey, Jayne, I was wondering if you wanted to go out this Saturday. I have tickets for Monster Jam. Do you like Monster Jam? I remember Jill always talked about it.
He kicks himself for bringing up my name.
Smooth, like she really wants to talk about her little sister this soon. Forget it. She has a boyfriend.

“No,” I shout. “Ask her out. She wants you to.”

His mind starts to conjure up a new plan with this new-found confidence he thinks he’s giving himself.
Jayne, I got these tickets. I was just wondering…

She suddenly enters the room and ruins everything he has to say. He can’t concentrate with her wearing sweats and a messy bun. He likes the idea of her looking like this with the two of them at home together.

“Oh, brother, Casey, you have to ask her out first.” I try to get him to focus.

“Are you sure this is enough?” Jayne questions, staring at the red Solo cup holding the grains of white soap.

Casey lets out a heavy breath. He’s chickening out. Figures. “Yeah, I’m going to head down to the store in a while to get more.” He smiles, hoping she’ll ask if she can get a ride, seeing how his dad told him her truck ran out of gas. “I’m just going to go by myself. I have the day off work.”

“I didn’t know you guys got days off.” She laughs, but it's strained. “I guess you can’t be that busy in a small town. I mean how many people die every week?”

“You’d be surprised.” He takes the cup from her. Jayne’s heart races at the touch of his calloused skin. Hardworking hands. A fix-it man. She likes the idea of that. She doesn’t want him to go, but now she can’t think of anything to say. I wish I could reach out and shake her, tell her to stop being so nervous.

“Well, I hope you have enough soap,” she says, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear while she searches for something to say.

“I’m sure this will be good.” He turns for the door and pauses. The bruise on her lip is screaming at him, willing him to ask questions. He shuffles nervously from one foot to the other. He won't ask her about the bruise; he doesn't want to pry. “Well, thanks for the soap.”

“Anytime.” Jayne shuts the door, and slides to the floor, breathing in a contented sigh. I kneel down beside her, trying to feel as normal—human—as I can, but it’s not the same. We can’t giggle over boys like we used to do. I reach over and place my incorporeal hands over hers, but she gets up and wanders back to Martha’s room.

Martha is still in bed with the covers over her face, snoring lightly. It’s not quite noon yet and Martha will flip-out if Jayne goes in there. She wants to talk to someone about Casey. She wants to talk to me.

Jayne heads back to her room, stopping at mine to peer inside. I stand behind her as her eyes dart around the freshly painted walls, the lifeless space that no longer contains any indication that I'd ever been there. Her eyes cloud with tears and she turns away, rushing into her own room and flopping down on her bed.

Her small frame is racked with sobs and she buries her face into her pillow, trying not to make any noise. She doesn't want Martha or Mom to wake up.

“I’m right here,” I say, but she doesn’t hear. I settle on the bed next to her and bury my face into her arm. I want her to know that I'm here with her.

A heavy knock sounds at the front door. I pull myself from Jayne's side and concentrate on the figure on the porch.

Casey?

Jayne rolls over and pushes herself up, startled at the noise. She wipes the tears from her face with the sleeve of her sweatshirt before she opens it.

Casey holds out the red Solo cup. “I wanted to bring this back.”

“It’s a plastic cup,” Jayne says, letting her lips lift into an easy smile. “You could’ve just thrown it away.”

“You can wash them and reuse them.” He smiles back, handing it to her, before shoving his hands in his pockets. The tension between them is so thick I feel like I could touch it. “I-I just didn’t know if you wanted it back.”

Jayne rubs the tip of her polished toe on the avocado linoleum. “Thanks.”

They’re like two kids with grade school crushes.

“Well...” Casey pauses. “Have a good day.”

“You, too.” Jayne stands there with the door wide open. She wants to call to him, make him come back so she can wrap her arms around him. Because he’s the only one who’s been there for her in the past. Whenever she needed him. Her longing is masked with feelings of betrayal, like she's hiding something. Though I don't know what could be so bad.

“I should probably go. I don’t want your mom paying to heat the neighborhood.”

It’s a trailer park
. I correct him.

“Yeah, she’s asleep on the couch.”

Liar.

“How is your, Mom?” His eyes soften and his nerves mold into concern.

“She’s alright.”

“Jayne, I’m really sorry. I never felt like I got to tell you that.”

“Thanks.” Her eyes begin to fill with tears and she quickly brushes them away with the cuff of her sweatshirt.

“I’ve got all kinds of pamphlets and books to help. If you want, I could bring them around sometime.” Casey looks at the cracked and warped wood of the porch, afraid that he's being too forward.

“That would be nice.”

“Well then...” he says, pushing his hands deeper into his pockets. Casey turns and heads for the steps.

Air catches in Jayne's throat as she watches him take one step, then another. Her mind is racing and I'm struggling to keep up with her thoughts.

Casey takes slow, measured steps, berating himself for not saying something, anything. His heart pounds in his chest and the staccato
thump, thump
thunders in my ears.

“Casey—”

“Jayne—”

They stare at each other for a breath and Jayne's cheeks redden. Casey clears his throat. “Can I buy you lunch?” he asks before she gets the chance.

“I would like that.” Jayne's doing a happy dance inside and I smile at her though she can't see me.

“Where would you like to go?” He’ll take her to the moon and back if she asks.

“You want to go like, right now? I look like a train wreck.”

He smiles as his eyes trace her body from head to toe. “You look amazing.”

Her blush deepens. “No, seriously, I should change.”

“No, seriously, you look perfect.” He reaches out with nervous fingers and brushes hair away from her face. “I’ll go get the car warmed up.”

Ten

For the life of me, I can’t understand why Jayne picks McDonald’s. Even worse, I think she’s trying to run Casey off with tarter sauce and French fries, but she really just wanted pickles and orange juice. Disgusting. Casey doesn’t seem to mind. He’s leaning forward so far he would tip over the table if it weren’t bolted down.

Casey tugs at the straw with his lips and then asks, “Do you remember in seventh grade when I moved next door?”

“Barely.”

Liar.
She remembers it as clearly as if it happened that morning.

“That was the summer Jill knocked on my door eleven times in one day to borrow a cup of sugar for a lemonade stand.” His eyes crinkle in the corners when he grins.

That’s because Jayne made me, or she was going to tell Brady Johns I had a crush on him. She wanted you to come over and make me stop.

“I remember that.” Jayne scrunches her face. “I practically had to tie her down to get her to stop.”

I smirk at her.

Maybe I should tell him how you wore that skanky blue bikini tanning in the backyard hoping that he would come over.

“I’ve been meaning to thank you for helping my mom out,” he says and takes a swig of his Coke.

Jayne opens her mouth to reply but is cut off by her ringing phone.

Her heart cracks like a bullwhip.

I turn to look at her, concentrating on her mind. Her stress is clouding the happiness she was feeling moments ago. Johnny is at our house waiting. His texts are crazy. He wants to know where she is. Who she’s with. How the hell she got anywhere with no vehicle.

“I have to go,” she says.

“Okay.” Casey stands and pulls on his coat.

“No,” she snaps. “I-I need to walk.” She's completely humiliated and does nothing to hide it from him.

“Walk?” Casey laughs. “It’s freezing outside. I don’t think I’m going to let you walk home.”

Jayne realizes the only way she’s going to keep him safe, is to tell him the truth. “There’s something I have to tell you. I’m sort of seeing a guy.” The second the word escapes her lips, I see the little girl again from Jayne’s truck. The one with Stephen. I whip my head around, searching for him. Only he’s not here.

Go to her, Jill.
His voice echoes in my head, but it sounds far away. I look up at the ceiling.

Jill, I need you to go to her.

I move from the table to the glass door of the play area. The girl is alone, staring out the window.

Jayne and Casey are getting up to leave. Casey has the tray in his hand. He isn’t afraid of Johnny. But understands that Jayne's in danger.

I look back and forth between Casey and Jayne and the little girl.

I have to make a decision.

I can’t do both.

I move to the little girl.
“Hi there,”
I say.

She looks up at me.
“Hello.”
Her delicate blue eyes are familiar, like I've known her for years.

“I need you to come with me for a little while.”
I grab her hand and we run to Casey's car and hop in the back before he has a chance to leave us behind.

“Did you know I’m not coming?”
Her small voice is angelic and light as snow.
“My daddy's a bad man.”

It suddenly dawns on me that I don’t even know her name.
“What’s your name?”

“Jillian.”

Everything stands still as my brain hurries to catch up to what I already know. It’s all making sense. Jayne is pregnant. The pickles. The orange juice. The throwing up.

How did this happen?

Oh, dear, God.

Johnny is her father.