Rene Gutteridge - Listen

But in the darkness of her room he was reminded that helplessness was often a portal to God, because rarely did the fragile, self-serving human pray for things in his complete control. He knew he’d been brought to his knees, and he willingly stayed there, his forehead laid against the side of her mattress. He prayed boldly, calling on the God he’d rarely thought about in the last few years. His small attempt at churchgoing was hardly enough to reconcile himself to his God. Yet he knew without a doubt, despite his absence, God would not be absent and that He was waiting even now to help.

“God help her,” Damien whispered. “God help me. Help us. Help Marlo.”

The bright morning sun brought only dark thoughts for Damien. As the smell of rich, fresh coffee wafted through the offices, Damien sat in his chair, contemplating revenge.

And there was so much to avenge for, he couldn’t quite wrap his mind around specifics for any of them. Instead, he played with the ideas, one after another, until he needed a refill on his coffee.

Walking to the break room, he remembered his prayer the night before, that God would help his daughter. He’d slept soundly, as if he were a small child handing over his biggest care to a parent. But with morning came a rush of anger and fear that had not left his side for a moment.

He’d thought he might talk to Jenna at breakfast, but she didn’t look in the mood for conversation, so he stayed silent. They all did.

Damien couldn’t just stand aside, though. He couldn’t watch his daughter be brutalized by other people’s words. As a kid who’d been bullied himself, he once wished they would’ve just beaten him with sticks and stones. It seemed far less painful than the words that followed him around like a torturing spirit.

It had lasted only one year, but it gave a lasting impression. In college he’d decided he would use words for good, not bad. That was the beginning of his journalism career.

Returning to his desk, he decided he was going to have to confront the principal and teachers and get this thing taken care of. Maybe these girls didn’t tie another girl up, but the fact that they continued to defend those who did was almost as disturbing.

He wondered if he should consult Kay. She wasn’t a confrontational person. But she also didn’t like having her children messed with. He hadn’t told Kay what he’d learned from Hunter. Not yet, anyway.

He grabbed his keys off the desk and lifted his jacket off the back of the chair. He couldn’t wait a second longer. He couldn’t watch his daughter suffer anymore.

His desk phone beeped, and a crackling voice came through. “Damien?”

“Yeah, Edgar?”

“I need you in my office.”

“Look, I was just getting ready to-”

“Now.”

Kay put on an aqua velour jogging suit. She messed with her hair for a moment and decided to take out her diamond earrings. She was not at all sure how to dress for this… whatever this was. She put on a small amount of makeup but no lipstick. She removed her watch and kept on only her wedding ring.

She lingered by the kitchen phone, wondering if she should call Damien, ask if this was the right thing to do. She picked up the phone but then heard a car in her driveway. Peeking through the kitchen window, she hung up the phone and grabbed her purse.

As Kay walked down the front steps of her home, her feet felt like lead. What was she doing? Why was she doing this? It seemed like such a bad idea, but here she was, opening the car door and sliding into the passenger’s seat like they were going for brunch.

“Hi,” Jill said with a sad smile.

“Hi.” Kay closed the door and clutched her purse on her lap.

“I’m so happy you said yes,” Jill said, reversing the car and backing out of the driveway. “I honestly didn’t think you would.”

Kay swallowed, trying to calm herself and rationalize this. Yet it still seemed like a bad idea. Perhaps it was curiosity that caused her to be here. Or maybe a hope that she could help solve Frank’s murder.

Kay tried to get comfortable. She was glad the windows were tinted.

“You don’t understand what it’s been like for me,” Jill said, staring forward as she drove. “Nobody will talk to me. People are leaving horrible messages on my answering machine, like I’m somehow involved. It’s been hell.”

“I’m sorry,” Kay said softly.

“And I hate him.” Her voice was steely, harsh. “I hate him so much.”

“You think he did it?”

Jill’s chin quivered. “Yes, I do. And that’s what we’re going to find out.”

Kay tried to take a silent, deep breath. “I’m here for you. I want to help in any way I can, but I still don’t understand why you asked me to come. How will this help?”

“You don’t understand the kind of man he is. He’s got this horrible, mean side to him. A side that’s out for himself and only himself. It’s what allows him to have this kind of affair without any regard for his family. It’s what makes me think he’s capable of doing what he did. But,” Jill said, glancing at Kay for an unusually long few seconds, “he is also someone else. He can be very charming. Very convincing. I’ve fallen for this side of him so many times.”

A pause in the conversation caused Kay to rethink this. She still had time to back out.

Then Jill continued. “I suspected, you know. That he was having an affair. I questioned him: ‘Where were you? What took you so long?’ But he has this charm. And so often it makes perfect sense. It only makes me look like a paranoid freak of a wife.”

“So, you think me being there is going to help?”

“He knows he can play me. He knows what I want to hear. But he doesn’t know you, so he doesn’t know how to play you.”

“I’m not sure I can be of any help,” Kay said.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Jill replied. “Just be there with me. I need someone by my side.”

It was a small thing to ask, to have someone stand by your side. How could she not? “Okay, sure. I understand.”

For the next five miles, they drove in silence, without even the radio on. The only sound in the car was the cold north wind vibrating against the windows. Jill looked lost in her thoughts, and Kay wondered if she should even be driving.

Then Kay said, “I’ve been reading that Web site.”

Jill glanced at her almost like she’d forgotten she was in the car. “What?”

“That Web site. I’ve been reading it. I think there are some things on there about me.”

Jill smirked. “For sure?”

“No, not for sure. But I’m pretty sure. A former friend…” Kay wondered if she should mention it was the same woman who had the affair with Mike. Maybe later.

Jill’s gaze stayed on the road. “Yeah, well, I know for sure there are things on there about me. Names me. People I thought were my friends.”

“I know. I should stop reading it.”

Jill nodded. “Could make you go insane.”

Kay sighed and stared out the window. “I once said something really bad about someone.” She felt Jill’s attention, but she couldn’t stop looking out the window. “I once had a good friend. She was married to my husband’s best friend. We did everything together. The boys would go do their thing and we’d hang out, talk for hours. But I was always bothered by… the way she dressed.”

“Dressed?”

“Yeah, low-cut blouses. A lot of low-cut blouses. I made a remark one day, offhandedly, to some people who knew her. It got back to her. She never spoke to me again.” Kay bit her lip, trying to keep the tears from coming. “For a long time I blamed her. Thought she should dress differently. But I realize now… I’m the one that judged. My hang-up about how she dressed came from my own past, my own hurts.” A certain heaviness lifted as she spoke. “One sentence changed my whole life. One sentence.”