Keep Quiet(10)

Jake squeezed his eyes shut, keeping tears at bay. He slept on the side of the bed closer to the door, because he was supposed to protect everybody, the Daddy-dragon guarding the Dutch Colonial. The thought made him cringe, after what had happened. He’d protected his son into a nightmare. And if he was having a sleepless night, he could only imagine that Ryan had it worse.

He eased off the covers, got up quietly, and padded down the hallway to Ryan’s room. He turned the knob carefully, opened the door, slipped inside, and closed the door behind him. The bedroom was dark, and moonlight came through the striped curtains. Ryan made a large mound under his comforter, and Jake could see his head on the pillow, but couldn’t make out his face. Moose was curled up on the bed, his head resting on Ryan’s feet, and the golden retriever didn’t stir.

“Dad?” Ryan whispered, and Jake crossed to the bed and sat down on the edge.

“How are you doing?”

“Horrible. How are you?”

“Horrible, and worried about my boy.” Jake’s eyes were adjusting to the light level, and he could see the shadows of Ryan’s young features, the hollows of his eyes and cheeks, and the dark waves in his hair. “Are you getting any sleep?”

“No.”

Jake sighed heavily. “I know, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that it happened.”

“Me, too, I’m sorry, so sorry. Everything is my fault, all of it.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is, you know it is. I was the driver. I’m the one responsible.”

“No, it was an accident. That’s why they call it an accident. Accidents happen.” Jake had been giving himself the same speech for the past hour. “We weren’t doing anything really wrong, it just happened.”

“Come on. I was doing something wrong. I wasn’t watching the road.”

“You happened to look over for a minute, a second, even a split second. You were having a conversation with me, and that happens every day, in cars all across this country.”

“But, Dad—”

“You weren’t texting or talking on the phone. In the fraction of a second you looked away, we hit a blind curve, and a runner was in the street. Who knew that she would be running that time of night? And she didn’t have any reflective gear on, either.”

“It’s not her fault she got hit.”

“I didn’t mean that.” Jake realized he was lying then, too. He did mean that. He had just blamed an innocent victim for getting herself killed. He must be losing his mind. A wave of guilt washed over him, so profound he had to close his eyes until it passed.

“Lots of people run late at night.”

“I know, but it’s not your fault that you hit her. That we hit her.”

Ryan moaned. “No, I hit her, you just said it.”

“Ryan, we’re in this together, and we will get through this together.” Jake stroked Ryan’s hair back from his face, a gesture he did without thinking, then realized that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d done it. He felt his throat thicken. “I love you, do you know that?”

“I love you too.”

“You’re a smart and able kid, and you’re stronger than you think.” Jake swallowed hard, not really knowing what to say. “By the way, everything went okay with Mom. But I didn’t tell her the story about Caleb and you getting in a fight. I told her that you and I got in a fight about texting in the car.”

“What?” Ryan asked, a new note of anxiety in his voice.

“I changed the story.”

“Why did you do that? We decided on the Caleb story.”

“I know, but this is better.”

“No it isn’t.”

“I think it is.” Jake hated himself, fussing with his son over which lie was better. “It makes more sense because it keeps everything between us and doesn’t involve Caleb. We don’t want her to start talking to Caleb’s mom, do we?”

“Oh, no, because of the weed,” Ryan answered sadly.

“That wasn’t what I meant. I was just saying that I don’t want any chatter between the moms about tonight, and also I told her that she shouldn’t bring it up with you. If she does, just say you don’t want to talk about it.”

“You think that’ll work?”

“For you, it’ll work. For me, no chance in hell.”

“That’s a random thing to say, Dad.” Ryan fell silent, then pulled out his iPhone. Its home screen glowed in the dark, showing a funny photo of Moose rolling on his back, his four big paws in the air. Ryan started to scroll to the Internet. “I looked online, but the news doesn’t have anything about the lady. Does that mean they didn’t … find her yet? Does that mean she’s … still lying there?”

“Not necessarily. Maybe they found her but haven’t released it to the public yet. They have to inform the next of kin.”

“That means her family, right?”

“Yes.”

“But she must live with her family. They would know that she didn’t come home from her run.”

“Maybe she lives alone.”

“Do you think she does? Could you tell … how old she was?”

“No, I couldn’t.” Jake shuddered, flashing on the woman’s abraded face.