Evidence of Life - By Barbara Taylor Sissel Page 0,38
Mr. and Mrs. Nicholas Bennett and that the return address was Texas A&M University. “What is it?” she asked, but, truly she knew. Of course it was more fallout. Collateral damage. Additional proof, if she needed it, that when one bad thing happened, a door in the universe opened to let out ten thousand more bad things.
“I’m in some trouble at school, Mom.” Jake turned from the window. “I thought maybe Gramma and I could handle it ourselves.”
Abby sat at the table and scanned the single page. She raised her gaze. “You were caught cheating?”
“One class. Economics. I can fix it. At least I’m trying to.” Jake sat across from Abby.
“This is postmarked two weeks ago.” Abby folded the letter, returned it to the envelope and pushed it into the center of the table with her index finger.
“It was forwarded,” Jake said, “from home. If you were there instead of here, you’d have known.”
“Where I live isn’t the issue. I thought you told me you were working with a tutor.” Abby was certain that he had mentioned it a few weeks ago.
He didn’t answer.
“You lied to me, is that it?”
He didn’t deny it.
The pause became awkward. Her heart stumbled at a hectic pace. She thought about the groceries she’d left in the car; the peach ice cream was probably melting all over the floor. She thought if Jake could lie about cheating, something so huge, so shameful and damaging, he could lie about anything. His father, for instance, what Nick had been doing in the Hill Country. Fresh suspicion broke over the surface of Abby’s mind. She had tried hard to dismiss it. She had excused as figments of her imagination Jake’s odd looks, his avoidance of her, and the sense that he wasn’t being truthful when he claimed to know nothing more than she did about what had happened to their family. But now she had proof that he could lie, bald-faced, and she was so gullible, she would believe him.
“Jake?” she prompted, and she did not regret the anger that blistered her voice.
He brought his gaze around, and it was as sharply caustic. “It doesn’t matter.”
“What do you mean?” Abby blazed. “Of course it matters.”
“No, Mom, it really doesn’t because I’m quitting school. I’m not going back after the Christmas break.” Jake bent toward her. “I can’t stand A&M. I can’t take the Aggie rah-rah bullshit. You don’t have the money to pay for it, and I’m not making my grades anyway.”
“Since when, Jake? Last semester you were on the dean’s list.”
His mouth curled. “See? You don’t know a damn thing. I haven’t made the dean’s list since the fall semester of my freshman year. I screwed up on my finals when you made me go back there last spring, and I’ve been screwing up ever since.”
“I didn’t make you go back, Jake. It was best.”
“You want life to be the same and it isn’t.”
“How am I supposed to know you’re having problems if you won’t talk to me? If all you do is lie to me?”
“What about your problems? You can’t even live by yourself.”
“So your cheating and lying is my fault?”
“You think Lindsey’s calling you all the damn time.”
“Oh, no, don’t make this about me, mister.” Abby rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “Does it never stop? Haven’t I been through enough?”
“That’s what I’m talking about! You act like it’s all about you, like you’re the only one who lost your family. But it happened to me, too, Mom, and sometimes I feel like I’m— But goddamn! What the hell am I thinking?” Jake hit his head with his fists. “Dad and Lindsey aren’t dead! They’re on fucking vacation, and every so often Lindsey phones home to talk about her tan and say what a great time she’s having.”
Abby couldn’t breathe, and in the sudden widening crack of silence, she felt weightless, untethered. At the sink, her mother stirred. Abby prayed she would say something, anything. But she didn’t. It wasn’t her way to interfere.
Jake got up. “I have to get back to campus.”
Abby tapped the envelope. “What about this?”
“I’ll handle it.”
“If you aren’t careful, you’ll ruin your chance at getting into law school.”
“That was Dad’s fantasy. Not mine.”
“Can’t we talk, Jake? The way we used to?”
He looked at her. With pity, Abby thought, and he said, “Nothing’s the way it used to be, Mom. When are you going to figure that out?” And then deliberately, carefully, he pushed his chair toward the table, walked over