Stevens Chevy - Never Knowing

Evan said, “Don’t answer it.”

“It’s a different number.”

He turned back to the stove. “If it’s not him, they’ll leave a message.” They didn’t. “They” called back three more times — always stopping after the fourth ring. Halfway through setting the table, I was frozen with a fork in my hand, waiting for the phone to ring again.

Evan glanced over his shoulder. “Just turn it off.”

Moments before, I’d been thinking how glad I was Sandy and Billy were gone so I could have Evan all to myself, but now I wished they were here so they could tell me what to do. All my tough talk — and resolve — about ignoring John was slipping away.

I said, “But what if he has another girl?”

Evan spun around with the spatula in his hand. “Turn off the phone, Sara.”

I stared at him as it rang again.

Eggs sizzled in the frying pan behind Evan as he said, “I thought you said you were done.”

“But what if he has someone or he’s at a campsite and—”

“If you don’t talk to him, he can’t manipulate you.”

Ally came around the corner. “What stinks?”

Evan spun back around. “Christ, the eggs.” As he moved the pan to another burner he looked back over his shoulder. “Do whatever you want, Sara. But you know exactly what’s going to happen.”

I turned off the phone and set it on the table.

Evan grabbed my hand. “It’s the only way you’re going to get your life back.” I sat down, pulling a squirming Ally into my lap and burying my face in her hair, feeling sick with dread — and guilt. Whose life had I just destroyed?

After we drove Ally to Meghan’s we came home and Evan did some work around the house. I finally finished the headboard I’d been struggling with, but it felt like climbing uphill with rocks tied to my ankles. Billy had phoned to tell me John called from a pay phone near Lillooet, about three hours south of his last call — and three hours from Vancouver. While I worked I kept wondering if while I was sanding something John was looking for his next victim.

The police have a patrol car cruising by Ally’s school at all her breaks. The teacher thinks I’m involved in a bitter custody battle with her real father — luckily I never told the teacher he’s dead — but I wondered if I should’ve kept Ally home. Evan and I had talked about it but decided we should keep things as normal as possible for her. The trick was keeping me as normal as possible. I’ve run an inch below manic for most of my life, revving into high gear at a moment’s notice, but now? I don’t even know what normal is anymore.

When Evan and I stopped for lunch, I tried to look interested as he told me how he’d reorganized the woodshed, but he noticed I was picking at my sandwich.

He said, “Why don’t you go see Lauren for a bit?”

“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “We haven’t talked much lately because I feel like I’m lying all the time. And I haven’t told anyone you’re home. They’ll wonder why I didn’t mention it.”

“Just tell them I had a cancellation and wanted to spend some time with you so we could get some wedding stuff done.”

“God, the wedding. We still have to order the cake, the flowers, rent your tux, get the wine, make the labels.” I threw my hands into the air. “We still haven’t even sent invitations.”

“It’s going to be fine, Sara.”

“The wedding’s in three and a half months, Evan. How is that fine?”

Evan raised an eyebrow. “Hey, Bridezilla, you might want to be a little nicer to the groom.”

I sighed. “Sorry.”

“What’s the biggest thing on your list?”

“I don’t know.… The invitations, I guess.”

He thought for a moment. “You go visit Lauren, and I’ll find a template for a cover e-mail and update the site. When you get back we’ll fine-tune it, then tomorrow we can go through our e-mail addresses and send the link out.”

“But…”

“But what?”

“Once the invites are out there … I don’t know, maybe you’re right. What if things get worse with John and—”

Evan said, “They’re not going to. He’s out of our lives. And you’re going to keep him out, right?” I nodded. “So unless you’re having second thoughts about marrying me?”

I tapped my chin. “Hmm … let me think.”

He grabbed my hair and pulled my face close for a kiss.

“I’m not letting you get away. Not when there’s a cop waiting to take my place.”

I smacked his shoulder. “Billy doesn’t like me that way. And right now he probably hates me for screwing their case up.”

Evan just grunted and said, “Good. Now go see your sister.”

When I got home — feeling a lot better about life after inhaling half a dozen of Lauren’s peanut butter cookies and a whole pot of coffee — Evan told me he’d gotten a couple of calls from the lodge. I said I was worried about him losing business, he said he was more worried about losing me.

Once John realized I wasn’t going to answer my cell phone he tried the landline a couple of times. When Ally came home she wondered why we weren’t picking it up, so we told her that it was just salespeople and she was not to answer it. We turned the ringer off at night and gave the police Evan’s cell number because my cell was also off. John tried a couple more times on Sunday. All the calls came from around Cache Creek, and I felt safer knowing where he was, or at least the general area, but Evan said it just made me more insane trying to predict his next move. He had a point. I agreed to call the phone company on Monday to change our number. Then I got the e-mail Sunday night.

Evan was about to show me the wedding Web site he’d spent all weekend updating when I decided to check my e-mail. As soon as I saw the address HanselandGretelAntiques@gmail.com I knew it was from John. The message was in all caps.

SARA,THE PRESSURE IS BAD. I NEED YOU.JOHN

The walls of my office closed in as I stared at my screen. Behind me Evan was talking, but I couldn’t make sense of the words. My body felt hot all over, my legs heavy with dread.

Evan said, “What’s wrong?”

“John just e-mailed.”

Evan spun his chair around, asked me something else I didn’t catch. I opened the window above my desk, needing air, but I still felt like I was suffocating. Billy, I had to get in touch with Billy. I forwarded the e-mail and he called right away to say the RCMP would try to find out where John had sent it from, but I was sure he’d used a public computer.

When I showed Evan the e-mail he told me to just ignore it. I tried to focus on the wedding site, but I couldn’t get John’s words out of my head.

I said, “What if he kills someone?”

“The police have warnings out to all the campsites. But he’s going to end up killing you if you keep communicating with him, Sara.” He scrolled through another page on the Web site. “Come on, this will take your mind off it. See, I changed the format and added our horoscopes and links to a map — there’s a little quiz too. And people can RSVP right online.” “That’s cool — and thanks for trying to distract me. But not communicating with John is what’s pushing him over the edge.”

“So let him get pissed off. I’m here, the house is wired, and we have cops patrolling by. If you’re going to talk to him at all, that’s what you should tell him — that the police know he’s been contacting you and they’ll catch him if he steps foot on the island again.” “That might make him go totally ballistic.”

Evan turned from the screen. “What do you want to do, Sara?”

“I just want this to all go away.”

“Then let the police do their job.”