Mind Games

She didn’t feel sweet, smart, and brave, but tired and sad and confused. When Mai left and before their grandmother came back, Rem leaned toward her.

“Can we go for a walk now?”

She wanted to snap at him to leave her alone, just leave her alone because her head hurt. But he looked at her with eyes so like their dad’s, and so full of need.

“Okay, I guess.”

They went out the back with the dogs happy to tag along. Because she wanted to get through it and out again, Thea started right away.

“He cut a hole in the patio sliders.”

As she got through it, Rem cried again, but the tears came hot out of angry eyes.

“When they catch him, maybe they’ll kill him.” Rem knuckled the tears away. “He’s a—a motherfucker.”

Too tired for shock that Rem not only knew the word but said it right out loud, she just looked at him. “Better not let Grammie hear you say that word. That’s the massive bad word. Or words.”

She wasn’t sure which.

“I bet she thinks the same, and you do, too.” Balling his fists, he shouted at the sky. “Motherfucker, motherfucker, motherfucker!”

Now shock got through, shock that a laugh tried to bubble up in her throat. “Shut up.” She gave him an elbow jab. “You’re going to get us in trouble.”

The angry red faded from his cheeks. “I don’t care. It made me feel better.”

“I guess it made me feel better, too. I’m tired, Rem. I don’t want to talk anymore right now.”

“What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

She sat on the ground beside the chicken coop, drew up her knees, lowered her head to them.

After a moment, Rem sat next to her, then draped an arm around her shoulders.

From inside the screen door, Lucy watched them. She didn’t need the sight to know Thea had told Rem what she’d seen. And since there wasn’t a thing wrong with her ears, she’d heard Rem’s rage, and the pain inside it.

Now look at him, she thought, doing what he could to comfort his sister.

They’d get through it, somehow the three of them would get through.

She glanced at the clock. Barely eleven? How could the day drag so when it had so much in it?

Barely eight out in California. She supposed it best to wait until noon to call out there—so nine in California.

She called the number Tate gave her for the medical examiner to find out when she could have her daughter and son-in-law sent home to her. Then worked down the terrible list of arrangements, buying gravesites, setting a date for the funeral, and all the rest.

She’d left it to her sons to tell the rest of the family, and called Waylon to tell him what she’d arranged.

When the children came back in, she opened her arms to take them both in.

“I’m about to call your grandparents in San Diego.”

Thea just burrowed in. “I’m so tired, Grammie. I don’t want to talk to them. Please, can I just lie down on the couch?”

“I don’t want to talk to them either.”

“All right.” Enough, she thought. They’ve both had enough. “I’ll tell them you’re both sleeping. Go lie down, and Rem, you go sit quiet awhile, close your eyes so you don’t make me a liar.”