The Grave Tender, page 17
When the doorknob turned, she half expected to see a dusty skeleton on the other side, motioning them to come in.
But the woman who opened the door was very real, if no less of a shock.
The outside of the house reflected the state of its sole inhabitant. Hadley had once compared Charlotte Abbott to bright silk, but time and loss had taken her color and her shine. In its place was a faded woman.
Her once burnished hair had given in to grey, and hung down her back. Her skin was pasty and plump, her dress a washed out grey that may have once been blue, a lifetime ago.
Sadness rang like a bell inside Hadley.
“Mrs. Abbott?” she asked.
“Yes?”
“I’m Hadley Leighton… Hadley Dixon. I was friends with your son.”
Charlotte’s face lit up like someone had flipped a switch.
“Of course! My goodness, you’re all grown up. And you must be Jude.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Jude said, a hint of a smile on her face.
“Well, come in, come in girls.”
The inside of the house was surprisingly tidy. There were no cobwebs in the corners, no dust on the mantle.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Mrs. Abbott asked.
Hadley and Jude looked at one another.
“Um, okay,” Hadley said.
She didn’t know what she’d expected, but this wasn’t it. Jude shrugged her shoulders when Charlotte bustled into the kitchen. They took in the house that neither had set foot in since they were children.
With a start, Hadley realized everything was the same.
The furniture, the photos on the mantle, the curtains in the windows. A little more worn, the colors faded, just like the lady of the house, but otherwise, identical.
Charlotte Abbott was living in an aging time capsule.
Their hostess came back with a tray of iced tea and slices of apple cake.
“It’s so good to see you girls. Please, have a seat.”
They sat side by side on the sofa, while Charlotte took a seat in a chair.
“You two both grew up just as pretty as a picture. Tell me what you’ve been up to. How are your families?”
They glanced at one another again. Charlotte’s welcome had thrown them off balance.
“Um, good,” Jude said. “Daddy passed away five years back now, but Mama’s doing well.”
Charlotte nodded. “I’m sorry about your daddy, Jude. He was a fine man.”
“Thank you,” she said. “I’m married now. Mateo and I have a house just up the road. We own a restaurant. The Voodoo Queen.”
“That’s wonderful, dear!” She turned to Hadley. “And you, Hadley? Are you married too?”
“I… no. I mean, I was, but not anymore. I’m a widow, actually. I lost my husband in an accident.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I know how hard that is.”
Yes, Hadley supposed she did.
“Do either of you have any children?” Charlotte asked.
Jude shook her head.
Hadley was disoriented by the ease with which she asked the question.
“I… well, my…” My father molested and murdered your son, and I’m really sorry about that. Can I make it up to you somehow?
She shook her head.
“My daughter Kate and I just recently moved back here. We’re living across the road with my family now.”
“You have a daughter!” Charlotte smiled. “I always wanted to have more kids after Cooper. I would have been happy with a dozen, but it never happened. You should bring her by sometime.”
“Kate?”
“Oh yes. I love to sew, but I’ve never gotten the chance to make anything for a little girl. How old is she?”
“She’s eleven.”
“That’s such a sweet age,” Charlotte said. “I remember when Cooper was near that age. So full of mischief. Sure he knew the answer to everything.”
Hadley didn’t know what to say. She looked at Jude for help, but her friend had none to give.
Charlotte went on, oblivious to her guests’ awkward silence.
“Would you like to see Cooper’s room?” Charlotte asked.
Without waiting for a reply, Charlotte rose and moved down the hallway. They had little choice but to follow.
Hadley was shocked when Charlotte opened the door.
It was a boy’s wonderland.
Shelves along the wall held toys and games, shiny new sports equipment. A guitar was displayed on the wall. There was a television with what could only be a game system hooked up to it.
Hadley took in the books on the shelves. The entire Hardy Boys collection sat next to Orwell’s 1984. There were choose-your-own mysteries next to Ender’s Game and Stephen Hawking’s A Brief History of Time. Hadley ran a finger down a paperback copy of The Catcher in the Rye. The spine had never been broken.
“Wow,” Jude whispered. She picked up a knight from the carved marble chess set that was set up on the desk next to a personal computer.
“Do you like it?” Charlotte asked. She opened the closet door, revealing a hockey stick hanging from the back of the closet door along with a Nerf gun.
“It’s…it’s incredible,” Hadley said. Did people even play hockey in Texas?
The closet was packed with clothes. So many clothes they formed a solid wall of fabric. Hadley saw they were organized from left to right, growing larger as they went. There appeared to be a man sized tuxedo tucked away at the very end.
“I hope Cooper likes it,” she said.
Hadley met Jude’s wide, stricken eyes. Jude turned away and carefully replaced the white knight back on the board.
“When he comes back,” Charlotte said.
“Yes,” Hadley said, quietly.
“Mrs. Abbott,” Jude said. “About that…”
Hadley looked up sharply. She gave an infinitesimal shake of her head. Her eyes begged Jude to say no more.
Understanding, Jude looked unhappy, but she gave a sad sigh of agreement.
“Yes, dear?” Charlotte said, prompting Jude to go on. Jude’s eyes moved back and forth from Hadley to the mother of the friend she’d lost long ago.
“I just… wanted to say… that I’ve never met anyone like Cooper. Not ever.”
Charlotte beamed.
“What a sweet thing to say. He’s going to be so sorry he missed you, when he gets home,” she said, giving Jude a hug. Her friend glared at her over Mrs. Abbott’s shoulder, but smiled again when Charlotte held her at arm’s length.
“I still can’t believe what a beautiful woman you’ve grown up to be. Your mother must be so proud of you.”
The women said their goodbyes shortly after that.
“Don’t be a stranger now,” Charlotte said, waving to them from her open front door.
“What was that?” Jude asked in a low voice, as they walked back to Vivienne’s house.
Hadley shook her head. She couldn’t meet Jude’s eyes.
“I couldn’t do it.”
“Hadley, she deserves to know the truth.”
“Do you think I don’t know that?”
“Then why did we just have tea and cake and let her invite us back? Her son is buried less than a mile from where we’re standing!”
Jude stopped walking.
Hadley turned to face her, but she still couldn’t meet her eyes.
“I just couldn’t do it,” Hadley mumbled, looking down at her feet.
“Is this about your father? Are you protecting him, after everything he’s done? After what he’s done to Cooper? To me? To your own daughter?”
Hadley’s eyes flew to Jude’s face. She could see anger and pain etched there.
“No!” she said. “No, I’m not protecting him! It’s not about him!”
“Then what is it about?” Jude was close to shouting. They both were.
Hadley flung her hand out and pointed back at the Abbott house.
“Were we in the same house?” she asked. “That woman has nothing left! Nothing! She’s lost her husband, she’s lost her son, and she’s completely, utterly alone. All she has left is hope. That’s all.”
“Yeah, she’s got hope,” Jude said. “False hope. Her son is never coming back, no matter how hard she wishes it. She’s got hope all right, but it’s got nothing left to feed on. It’s turned on her and it’s eating her alive!”
“And what’s the alternative? We hand her some bones in a box and say here you go?”
“The alternative is the truth!”
Hadley knew Jude was right.
“Hadley, I know what it’s like to spend your life hiding from the truth.”
Hadley’s voice was quiet when she spoke.
“And I know what happens when a mother loses her last shred of hope. I still see the flames in my dreams.”
Jude’s anger drained out of her.
“Oh God,” she said. “What a pair we are. Do you think between the two of us, we have enough pieces to make one whole heart?”
Hadley smiled through her tears.
“I doubt it.”
41
Hadley felt a tug of guilt at leaving Jude alone with a worried frown on her face, but she needed some time and space to think.
As Hadley drove through Whitewood, she passed the public library and the fire station. She and her father used to have lunch at the café. Walker had a weakness for their pie.
“Best damn slice of pie in town,” he’d say, no matter the flavor. He loved them all. She must have heard him say it two dozen times if she’d heard it once.
She passed the Caddo County Sheriff’s Department.
Hadley drove around aimlessly for a while. She was avoiding the inevitable. There were only so many paths forward. Each of them led to a dark place.
Finally, Hadley turned her car toward home, with her daughter on her mind.
When Hadley came up to the break in the trees that gave her a split second view of the Dixon house, she spotted her father’s truck in the drive. Hadley slammed on her brakes, and the car fishtailed, gravel spraying from under the tires.
He was home.
She forced herself to breathe. Slow, deep breaths that did nothing to calm her heart hammering in her chest. She’d known this was coming. She’d known. She’d even thought she was prepared to face it. Now, though, she admitted she’d been hoping he wouldn’t come back. That he’d disappear. Then she’d never have to see his face when his crimes were laid down, one by one, between them.
She couldn’t stop the thought that if his love for her had ever been real, he would have stayed gone and spared her what was coming.
Hadley took a breath and started the car moving again. She turned into Vivienne’s drive instead of the one that led to her family’s home. The scene that greeted her brought her priorities into sharp focus.
There was Kate, with an oversized man’s shirt over her clothes. She was speckled with pretty lavender splatters of paint.
She was laughing at Mateo, who’d painted purple war paint across his cheeks and forehead and was making silly faces at her.
Jude was seated on the porch swing. Her legs were crossed, one foot jumping like a fish on a line. Vivienne saw Hadley pull up and came out on the porch too, wiping her hands on her apron. She held a palm up to shade her eyes from the sun. Hadley could see tension in the set of her jaw.
Hadley joined them on the porch.
“He pulled in about an hour ago,” Jude said. Her arms were around herself, her hands tucked in tightly under them. Hadley noticed her own hands were none too steady, and pushed them into the pockets of her pants.
“Trying to keep Mateo here until you got back… it’s been a struggle. Mama isn’t helping either. She’s ready to storm over there with him.”
Jude shot a glare at her mother, but Vivienne was unapologetic.
Mateo walked over to join the women. In spite of his antics with Kate, and the ridiculous paint on his face, his jaw was tight. Hadley had hardly given a thought to the effect all this was having on him and Vivienne. But she didn’t have the time or emotions leftover to worry about that now.
“Thank you,” she said to Jude. “Please, promise me you’ll keep Kate here until I come back for her. No matter what.”
“You’re not going over there alone,” Mateo said.
Hadley nodded her head.
“What if something happens, Hadley? You don’t have to face him by yourself. Let us help you,” Vivienne pleaded.
“You are helping, by keeping Kate safe. I have to do this alone.”
No one looked happy about that, least of all Hadley, but Kate was headed their way. She met her daughter with a bright smile.
“The house looks great, Kate,” she said.
“Thanks. Mateo says I’m a hard worker, and he should know because Mexicans are some of the hardest workers on the planet.”
Hadley lifted an eyebrow at him. He shrugged.
“He told me I could be an honorary Mexican if I wanted, but I think he’s messing with me. Don’t you have to fill out paperwork for stuff like that?”
Hadley couldn’t help but smile.
“Couldn’t fool you, could he?” she said. “Hey, Katy-did, I have a few things to take care of back at the house, so how about you stay here and help Mateo finish up.”
“Sure,” Kate said. “Tell Granddad I said hi.”
Hadley hugged her daughter tight.
“I’ll be back in a little while,” she said.
She wished she knew what would happen then.
42
The house was quiet when Hadley entered. She wondered how many times she’d crossed this threshold. Thousands? Tens of thousands? Had the house always felt so much like a living thing, and she’d never taken the time to notice?
The air fell down on her shoulders from the ceiling fans like a sigh. The dripping kitchen faucet, a pulse more steady than her own. There was a sadness here, in these walls. For the children it had sheltered. For the grown woman who stood here now, with the truth sitting like lead in her belly.
The clock on the mantle ticked away the passing seconds. Hadley listened for signs of life, but she heard nothing but the house that breathed around her.
The first step was the most difficult, the second only slightly less so. But she pushed herself forward, searching slowly from room to room. She checked upstairs first, then made her way back down. She could have called out, but she didn’t, afraid to upset the balance of lives teetering at the edge of a cliff.
Her father’s office, the last place she checked, was empty too.
He wasn’t here.
Looking around the empty rooms, Hadley knew where she’d find him.
…
The barn door gave a slow creak that Hadley’s nerves could’ve done without. Blinking, her eyes adjusted to the shift from sunlight to shadows.
Alva’s horses were lined up like spectators for a show. The barn hadn’t housed live animals for decades, and never in Hadley’s lifetime, but the smell lingered. It had been absorbed into the earth, beneath the newer smells of paint and varnish, dust and farm equipment gone rusty from disuse.
Another, less familiar smell made her nostrils flare. Liquor?
Her eyes scanned the inside of the barn, but she saw no one, not at first.
Then she spotted movement and her eyes swiveled, finding the source. He was sitting with his back propped against a beam, one leg straight in front of him, and the other knee up. As she watched, he took a swig of whiskey straight from the bottle, then leaned his head back against the beam. His eyes were closed.
Hadley rifled through her memories, but she couldn’t bring to mind a single time she’d seen him drinking. Not even a cold beer with a buddy on a hot day.
By the time she realized she’d made a mistake it was too late. Unable to control them, the memories ran free, flooding her.
She felt the excitement and anticipation as she saw him with yellow balloons for her eighth birthday.
She felt the sting as he helped her dig gravel out of her palms when she scraped them learning to ride a bike. Saw his smile when she got back on, determined to learn. He’d run alongside her while the wheels were still shaky. Then suddenly she was out front, steady and leaving him behind, except for the sound of his laughter and shouts of encouragement.
The warmth of his arm linked in hers when he walked her down the aisle on her wedding day.
She remembered how it felt when she transferred the weight of her newborn daughter so carefully into his arms for the first time. She could see the tears in his eyes and hear the hitch in his voice, all over again.
“Just as pretty as your mama,” he’d said.
Each precious memory, stained and dirty.
“Hey, Hadley,” Walker said, his eyes still closed.
Hadley was disoriented. The words and images that had held her prisoner for the last twenty-four hours, painting this man as a child molester, a killer, a monster. She couldn’t doubt the truth of them. But she was having trouble assimilating that with the man in front of her, the one she’d always known. His voice was the same, his face and form the same.
She walked closer, staring at him, desperately searching for some indication, some sign she’d missed because she hadn’t known to look for it.
She saw nothing. He looked like he always had. Like her dad.
An overwhelming sorrow stole her strength.
“Hey, Daddy,” she said, sinking to the ground next to him. She leaned her head back against the same beam, her legs stretched out perpendicular to his. From this vantage, she couldn’t see his face unless she turned her head.
It was easier that way.
Minutes passed. Whiskey splashing in its bottle broke the sound of the silence. Walker brought it to his lips, taking another drink before he spoke.
“I’ve been sitting here fooling myself,” he said. “Wishing I could change things, fix them somehow. Hoping things could be all right again. For you. But I can’t Hadley. Things were never right. I was never right.”
“Daddy, you hurt so many people.” To her ears, she sounded like a little girl, asking her father to make it all go away.
