Page 37 of Envious Of Fire
When Jessica enters, she comes bathed in daylight. A dress with bright green and white floral patterns, blindingly blonde hair to her shoulders, makeup exquisite, except for a stray mark of mascara to the side of her right eye, something she may have overlooked, or perhaps from wiping away a tear, who knows. And upon her feet, a pair of sneakers that go with literally none of her outfit, not even matching her white beaded bracelets or earrings, perhaps an afterthought, or a choice to make walking around in these desert towns tracking down her husband morecomfortable, and perhaps for the long drive, too.
As she comes to a stop just inside the house, her big eyes fall upon Kyle and grow even bigger. She lets in the slightest of gasps, then remains there, speechless, a pale green wallet purse clutched to her waist by her long fingers, nails painted pink.
“Hi, Jessica,” says Kyle, breaking the silence.
She blinks. “No,” she mutters to herself, head shaking.
“Yep, it’s me.”
She continues to stare, continues to not believe, continues to remain by the door, should she suddenly chase an instinct to run the fuck away. But something keeps her there, staring at the teenager she went to high school with, staring at that teenager who stares back at her.
Suddenly she lets out a crazed laugh, slaps a hand over her mouth, laughter choked to silence, then through her fingers she says again, “No … no, it can’t be you. Is it?”
“Long time,” says Kyle with a wry smile. “Want to come in and have some tea? Bottled water? The tap is just … awful.”
“Oh.” She peers back at the door, as if debating even still if this was a terrible idea to come. Then, as softly as if to herself, she says, “I … I thought Brock was crazy, when he said … when he saw what he saw on our son’s laptop, the video, that disturbing video, and then … then …” She brings her eyes back to Kyle. “You’re really alive. All of this time. It’s true. A-And you …” She blinks. “You look exactly the same as I remember. Exactly.”
Jessica does not. She is thinner. More athletic. Perhaps she goes on neighborhood walks with her congregation, with other mothers she’s befriended, takes Pilates classes, researches health foods and owns a treadmill and counts her carbohydrates and wears hydrating face masks at night and fights with all her might against the indifferent passage of time.
She offers an unexpected smile, as if surrendering. “Well, Kyle, darling, you’re gonna have to seriously tell me all ‘boutyour skincare regimen, because it’s done youwonders.”
7.
How Very Terrible You Are.
—·—
It takes twenty minutes at the kitchen table for Jessica to come around about the fact that Kyle is, indeed, not dead.
Kyle keeps the details of his story vague, with only a little commitment to the truth—that he thought his family would be better off without him, that he fled to live with Tristan in an off-the-grid cabin in the wilderness and cut himself off from everything. It wouldn’t be until years later that he picked up a paper and discovered the fate of his family, after which a time of mourning passed. Soon after, his and Tristan’s relationship crumbled, and they are no more. Elias is his man now.
“Well, he seems like a … a really great guy,” says Jessica in a daze, trying her best to keep up. She hasn’t taken a single sip of the glass of water Kyle got for her. “I do pray he treats you better than Tristan ever did. Tristan … we all knew there was somethingdarkabout him,darkanddisturbedand …” She sighs, quickly draws a cross over her chest. “I won’t go into it … but do you think he started it? The fire? I wouldn’t put it past him, how he … took you over.”
“I think I’ll never know who or what started the fire that took my family,” answers Kyle. “There are many possibilities.”
“Only God knows now.” She draws another cross, grips her glass of water, doesn’t drink. She peers at Elias, smiles. “At least you’re not alone. The Lord blessed you with a man.” Kyle and Elias share a look. “It was a dark time for all of us back home. No one knew what to think. Brock was beside himself, totallyburdened with guilt. He was certain, fully certain, that Tristan had something to do with it. He felt like he should have done more to warn you, he went on for days and days …” She sighs down at her glass, even her sighs sounding melodic. Then she tilts her head. “Funny thing though, about the bodies.”
Kyle stirs. “Bodies?”
“Well, because they found four of them.” She gestures at Kyle. “If you’re here and alive and still have the Lord’s breath in you, then how’d they find four? Who was the fourth body?”
Kyle shifts in his seat, offers a shrug. “I suppose that might have been the … person who actually started the fire,” he fibs. “Maybe it was an electrician. Or my brother’s violin tutor.”
“Then wouldn’t that have made the news, too? Hmm, that doesn’t seem right …” Her fingers fidget along the rim of the glass as she smacks her lips in thought. “It was just so odd, all of it, I wasn’t the only one who thought so. You know what else I found strange? They could only properly identify your parents. They look at the teeth, you know,” she says as she lifts the glass to take a drink, then doesn’t, simply holding it. “The bodies of your brother and—well, whoever in the world was mistaken for you—I heard both bodies were destroyed beyond recognition from the fire, unable to beofficiallyidentified. That’s the word my daddy used, he worked at the station—‘officially’.”
That strikes Kyle as odd. “Really?”
“I’m sorry!” Jessica sets the glass down and presses fingers to her lips. “I’m going on and on, talking about this like it’s the weather … This is yourfamily!I’m so sorry for my insensitivity. I get it from my daddy. He’s a total interrogator-type, all of my life, questioning me about every little thing. He and my poor Brock, they … they never saw eye to eye … Lord help me.” She grimaces and tilts her head. “Can you forgive me?”
“Of course,” says Kyle quickly. “It was a long time ago. I’ve made my peace with it.”
“I nearly forgot the reason I came here at all.” She lets out another of her strange, choked laughs. “I could barely see the road, driving so late at night as I did, lost my way twice or so … was a nightmare, an absolute nightmare. Poor Ash … tired and bored and just wanting to be back home. I don’t blame him.”
“Ash?”
Jessica peers at Kyle in wonder. “Yes, Ash, our son. Asher. Didn’t Brock mention our son when the two of you spoke?”
“Oh, yes, of course he did,” says Kyle. “I just … don’t think he mentioned his name.”
