long way from the house, bent over, and let a rush of vomit spill from deep inside me. My eyes lingered halfway between closed and fluttering. A bitter and metallic taste puckered inside my cheeks, and I let loose another flow of bile-like, watery sick.
One step, two steps, one, two. I thudded towards Cliffside, wondering how this hangover had taken so long to develop. Then my attention was stopped, and I realized where I was: by the redwood tree. I recognized it: taller than the Statue of Liberty, with its gnarly wart-like burl on the base of its trunk. I stared at the spot that had taken an age to dig. Seven months ago. May. The ground hard and dry, but just moist enough, thanks to the fog-drip and sandstone soil. Seven whole agonizing months ago.
Strangely Lee, too, had passed away not long before that.
I looked over my shoulder and up at the house in the distance. All still. Just the salty breeze and the last of the sun. Twilight dancing with the shadows of the trees. And me. Just me. The girl with eleven fingers, despite the fact I now had ten.
I turned my left hand over just to assure myself. Sometimes that sixth finger’s nerves paid me a little visit. Especially at night. I still wore my wedding band and my stunning Tiffany diamond engagement ring, which had cost Juan a small fortune. I rarely took it off except to clean it now and then. I was terrified of losing it. Not just because of its value but because of Juan’s message engraved inside: “Yes, you.” It was a secret joke between us, inspired by the movie Gilda, with Rita Hayworth. Juan and I quoted lines from classic movies to each other all the time. I wished I’d had Gilda’s confidence, her luscious mane of hair, and that “Me?” was just how I’d felt: Juan was going to marry a girl like me? Really?
So he engraved his answer back:
“Yes, you.”
Some things were irreplaceable. My ring. Cliffside.
Juan.
Beanie trotted on ahead. I thought of Juan and how it was his fault I had become so nervy and jumpy. His pig-headed greed forcing me to do something so out of character for me, something I could never have imagined carrying through. But I didn’t have the option at the time, did I?
The site was untouched. The earth smooth, and camouflaged with its surroundings: shrubs and cones and leaves covering the spot very nicely.
Nobody would have any idea what was buried deep beneath.
Twenty-Seven
“What are you doing?” It was Dan. He’d been watching me, my gaze fixed on that spot. Staring at me from behind a pine tree, reaching into my guilty thoughts, for sure. Beanie barked as if demanding the same question.
I spun round, my heart lodged in my stomach, my pulse shot with adrenaline racing a thousand miles an hour.
“Dan! Oh my God, thank heavens you’re here. And Beanie—I didn’t know where he was. What a fright! I just saw a rattlesnake. It was—it got into coil mode, but when you called my name it got scared by the noise and slithered off!”
“Are you sure?” Dan’s eyes were suspicious slits.
“Yes! It was right there!” I waved my arms vaguely. I didn’t want to draw attention to the site. “It disappeared really fast when it heard you.” I staggered towards Dan uneasily, trembling from my close call. What had I been thinking? Lurking and hovering around so close to the last place on earth I wanted him to discover.
“Rattlesnakes usually hibernate,” Dan said.
“I know, but with the weather as crazy as it is, the winters so warm and climate change, there’s been a surge of confused rattlesnakes! It frightened the life out of me!”
Dan held my gaze, unbelieving.
“The rain hasn’t helped either,” I went on. “With all that tall green grass around, it encourages more rodents, which means more rattlesnakes.”
“Let’s get out of here, it’s getting dark,” Dan warned. “What the hell were you doing taking so long? I was worried about you.”
“I’m really low on energy. I’ve been trudging up that hill for what seems like hours. How’s your poison ivy?”
He turned his hands over; both the palms and the backs did not look in the slightest bit red.
“False alarm,” he said. “Maybe a spider bit me or something. I guess I just freaked out. You know, once bitten twice shy?” He enunciated his last sentence as if it had a double meaning, his eyebrows disappearing behind his flop of hair.