“That’s the thing… I wasn’t. I’d had two beers or maybe three, lots of food.”
“Three beers is a lot,” I pointed out. Three beers would have definitely done me in.
“I’m a big guy… it’s not that much, in the span of six hours or so. I passed the breathalyzer.”
“That’s good, I guess.” I wasn’t sure I was liking what I was hearing. He wasn’t taking responsibility for this girl’s death.
“She just ran out of nowhere, across the street. I slammed on the breaks, but the roads were icy, and I skidded and crashed right into her. I’d only been going about five miles above the speed limit or so.”
I nodded quietly.
“There isn’t a single day when I don’t think about this girl… this angel,” he forged on, the edges of his words cracked. Gavin had such a lovely voice, low and masculine and steady. That morning however, he didn’t sound like himself at all. He was a lost boy, afraid, on the verge of tears.
“She was a ghost, skidding across the road. She was wearing a white winter jacket and hat,” he went on. “Her hair was so long and light, it was angelic. Her eyes fixed mine, wide and full of shock… I was the last person she ever saw. To take one’s life is something a person should never have to live with… it’s… inexplicable.”
I desperately wanted to say something to comfort him, but I was at a complete loss for words.
“Turns out she’d been running away from her older brother,” he continued. “She had threatened to run away from home when her dad had driven her best friend back home early from a sleepover. Apparently, the girls had misbehaved. I learned all this later in the investigation. I was investigated thoroughly and eventually cleared.”
“How old was she?”
“She was twelve. Her name was Samantha.”
My heart ached. For both him and her. And for her brother, who played a key part in her death, and for her father who also did. And for her mother.
“That was Simon’s little sister’s name… Samantha,” I pointed out.
He nodded softly. “Yeah… I guess that’s where the confusion comes from. Simon’s little sister died in a car wreck. She was sitting comfortably in her parents’ car. I was nowhere around.”
“I’m sorry.” I kissed him softly on the cheek. “I’m sorry you have to carry that with you every day.”
He took my hand. “We all have skeletons in our closets, don’t we?”
I wondered about my own skeletons? Did I have any? I’d told my mother I hated her the day she died. I’d told her, “You’re the worst Mommy in the world.” And it hadn’t been the first time I’d said that either. Would she had gotten plastered out of her mind and jumped off a cliff if I hadn’t uttered those words? That’s something I’ll never know, and something I live with every day.
I wondered about Izzie. I knew she had a skeleton or two hiding in her closet. They were probably smirking, stylishly dressed, a little too happy with themselves. They were frisky and playful, but could they have been dangerous as well? Where had her skeletons led her?
I desperately wanted to know.
* * *
I wakeup in Noah’s arms. I glance at the clock on his bedside table: 2:56 PM. I smile at the sight of him sleeping soundly next to me. Another sex nap.
I love sex naps. Daniel was never a big napper, but Noah loves his sex naps. Sex just wears him completely out. I suppose he makes a greater effort than Daniel ever did. Gavin used to also nap after sex.
I check my phone and browse Facebook as I patiently wait for him to wake up. I get itchy to see that playful grin and those baby blues staring back at me, and to hear that beautiful soft spoken voice of his. I play with a lock of his hair and trace circles on his shoulder. He stirs and moans, and I keep teasing him.
This goes on for a good five minutes when he finally tosses and turns and wakes up.
I kiss his cheek. “Someone’s being pretty lazy.”
A slow smile traces his lips. “What can I say… you wear me out, girl.”
I laugh. “Are you hungry?”
He leans up on his elbows. “Starving.”
“I was thinking about making a plate of cheese and crackers. And some grapes.”
