Page 68 of I Know She Was There

Insistent buzzing jarred me out of my zombie-like trance. It took a few seconds to understand what the noise was. As the realization of what Tim had done sank deeper into my mind, I’d spent hours on the couch. Had I even slept last night?

I reached for the phone.

“Caroline, it’s Jeffrey. May I come over?”

“Yeah, sure.” It amazed me how calm and collected my voice sounded, but as I hung up, I felt hollowed out, as I had when I’d stepped into Emmy’s empty room. Tim had done that to me. He’d taken away what had mattered most. It was an accident. It had to be. He’d loved Emmy. I gnashed my teeth, wondering if he’d somehow convinced himself I really was to blame. Perhaps he couldn’t live with himself if he faced what he’d done. Better to let me suffer.

I realized for the first time how weak he was. How self-involved and cowardly. It shifted the way I thought about our marriage, our family, and our daily lives. I sat for a long time, lost in thought.

The doorbell intruded on my ruminations.

When I saw Jeffrey’s unsmiling face, I hesitated before opening the door wider. But as he shouldered his way through my doorway, careful not to bump into me, he felt like a friend paying a visit. God, how I needed a friend.

We settled at the kitchen table, glasses of ice water for each of us. I had nothing else to offer him.

“I’m sorry I treated you so coldly, Caroline, but when I read the news article about the baby?—”

“I understand.” And I did. “Every time you were around me, I had Emmy. It must have freaked you out to discover she was never there.”

“I was only thinking of myself.” He looked down at our glasses. “But you aren’t like that. You are obviously in so much pain over your loss, but you still dropped by to tell me about Annie in the ER.” He finally glanced up at me, shaking his head slightly. “I’m such a shit.”

The compassion in his voice nearly unhinged me. Blinking hard, I swallowed the urge to cry. “I think you reacted the way just about anyone would have, Jeffrey.”

His expression softened. “Don’t let me off that easy. I don’t deserve it.”

I smiled, savoring a rare kinship with another human. I’d had far too few of these moments in my life. But my smile wavered when I realized his expression might change once I told him that I remembered Tim letting Emmy go for that instant to find the shampoo bottle. I imagined his lips tightening into a straight line and his eyes losing that spark of interest like Tim’s had every time I mentioned topics he didn’t want to discuss. For some reason, Jeffrey’s reaction to what I was about to tell him mattered to me.

But then I thought of Emmy, of her little life cut short. Of all that she’d never know, learn, or experience. She’d been as alive as the woman I’d seen in the window. And now maybe neither of them were. It was a feeling as undeniable—as visceral—as my fingertips on the wooden tabletop. Impermeable to the whims and vagaries of the mind. I wasn’t—could never be—able to simply accept and move on. Not until the truth was out there.

I started talking, my mouth moving, sharing our story of loss, Tim’s, and mine. As I spoke, I felt the wetness on my cheeks, but I ignored it, so lost was I in the empathy in Jeffrey’s gray eyes. For some reason, I thought of my father. His eyes were not the same color as Jeffrey’s, but I envisioned the same expression as if he understood how impossible it was to say goodbye to those I’d loved most.

When I finished, I looked away, suddenly shy. I’d laid my life out before this man, like displaying my wares at a flea market. Would he look at the goods closely, searching for treasures, or simply smile politely and move on?

“I think you’re very brave, Caroline.”

“Brave?”

He leaned forward. “When I found you crawling out of the pond you couldn’t even speak in coherent sentences. That’s how traumatized you were. You could have said nothing about what you’d witnessed, just kept your mouth shut and let me drive you home. But as you recalled the events of that evening, you tried to do the right thing. You told me, and we alerted the police.”

I snorted. “But they didn’t believe me. Just like they won’t believe that it was Tim’s negligence, not mine, that...” I couldn’t complete the sentence. Couldn’t saykilled Emmy.

Jeffrey rubbed the side of his face. “The truth has a way of coming out.”

“Maybe not this time. I’ve been institutionalized for mental-health issues. Tim hasn’t. If he tells the world I’m responsible for what happened, people will believe him—alreadyhavebelieved him.” I sighed and ran a hand through my limp hair. “How do I change what people think?”

“You may not be able to... yet. But don’t be a victim, Caroline. Don’t give any old asshole permission to use you, cheat you, or hurt you. You have power too.”

I laughed, sounding sad rather than happy. I was the most powerless person I knew. I hadn’t figured out a way to hold on to my daughter, my husband, or even my dad. I didn’t control my own destiny and never had. “I don’t have power, Jeffrey, or anything of value. This crappy ranch is heavily mortgaged, and I can’t hold down a job.” My throat felt as dry as a bowl full of dust. I took a sip of water. “Hell, I don’t even have a checking account.”

“Why is that?” He tilted his head. “How do you pay your bills and buy necessities?”

“Tim handles all that.”

Jeffrey’s brow puckered. “But you mentioned you and Tim are separating. You need to know what your assets are.”

I felt a tightness in my chest as I looked at him. “I’m sure we’ll settle once the divorce...” I let my voice trail.

“That will be too late.” Jeffrey rubbed his forehead, sat back in his chair. “Look, Caroline, you need to get a good lawyer. Someone who will help you divide your shared assets equitably.”

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