He had a big job with big money. For all she knew, he was flying home and making arrangements. But she hoped he drove. The drive wasn’t that far from Manhattan and if he drove, he wouldn’t be on a schedule the way he might be if he held a plane ticket home.
As the truck rumbled down Main Street her eyes watched the empty road. Vacant sidewalks rambled by as stores remained closed for the extent of the storm.
Her head turned quickly, as they passed the hardware store, spotting a bouquet of flowers resting against the door.
Who leaves flowers for a corpse? She supposed everyone did. Maybe the flowers were for her. No. No one cared about her.
She realized then the hardest thing she’d have to stomach over the coming days would be the town’s grief for a man none of them truly knew. Their condolences would be painful little lies she’d swallow like jagged little pills.
Would she smile and nod, pretending their version of her father was correct? He was dead. Gone. She could finally tell the world what a rotten piece of shit he was. Or, she could let all of her secrets die with him. Take it to the grave. Is that where that saying came from?
It was enough to make her feel crazier than she already felt on a regular basis. As if her reality was just a reflection, a version of the truth with no real substance or tangibility. No one would believe her anyway. They’d accuse her of seeking sympathy and call her a liar. They all hated her. And how dare anyone speak ill of the dead or smear the name of beloved Ward Montgomery?
Her secrets had never felt so lonely. Her mind was opening and overflowing, fears and feelings spilling from compartments she’d hidden years ago. Things only she’d ever know. Things Harrison refused to discuss.
When they reached the mechanic’s, she paid for the tow and thanked Finn for the ride. He hesitated. “Is your brother on his way?”
“He should be here tonight.”
“If you don’t want to be alone or in that house, you’re welcome to come to our place. Philly’s making fish tacos and we’ve always got plenty of leftovers.”
She didn’t want to impose. It would be weird to sit down with a woman who never spoke two words to her, and weirder for his wife who never got more than Erin’s undeserved dirty looks.
She envied Mallory, not because she got Finn, but because she was normal enough to keep him and it sometimes hurt Erin to catch glimpses of their happy life. Finn had found everything he deserved and Erin didn’t want to ever interfere with that.
“Thanks, but I should go home and wait for Harrison.”
The house was silent and dark when she returned. She sat at the kitchen table, desperate to busy herself but completely unsure of what to do.
After several long minutes, she jumped to her feet and raced out into the snow. Her legs sank in the deep drifts as she awkwardly marched through the yard. Her bare fingers dug through the iced surface, scooping away the packed layers until she felt the cold glass of the casserole dish.
For the next hour, she focused her mind on following a recipe she knew by heart, carefully sifting the flour and mindfully sprinkling the sugar. When the crumb cake was finished, she set it on the stove like she had done every night for as long as she could remember.
Unsure why she did such a thing, she stared at the cake. Was it a postmortem apology to a man she’d never have to face again, a man who made her life miserable and chased away every ounce of love and joy that ever tried to enter this house? Or had she made it to feel in control as if that last cake somehow told the world she’d baked it for herself not him? Or was that just another lie?
His existence was a lie. His shop was a lie. That cake was a lie.
Everyone thought they knew him and they thought they knew her, but they had both been liars. She lied for him and she lied for herself. And in his death, those lies survived. Gone. What was left? Who was she without him? She was the empty result of his cruelty and his impact lingered like an invisible scar, stealing every bit of substance she thought she had and leaving nothing but shadows behind.
Sometimes people told themselves lies because lies were more comfortable than the truth. Everyone in Jasper Falls hated her, but she lied to spare them. She lied because their comfort was more important than hers, and she didn’t want to be the one to spoil their image of their safe and happy little town or the illusion of sweet old Ward Montgomery.