Karin Slaughter - Faithless

Nan’s brown Corolla was parked behind Lena ’s Celica when she walked up the driveway to the house. Lena glanced at her watch, wondering how long she had been walking. Jeffrey had given her the morning off to make up for yesterday, and she had looked forward to spending some time alone. Nan usually came home for lunch, but it was barely past nine o’clock.

Lena grabbed the Grant Observer off the lawn and scanned the headlines as she walked toward the front door. Someone’s toaster had caught fire Saturday night and the fire department had been called. Two students at Robert E. Lee High had placed second and fifth at a state math competition. There was no mention of the missing girl found in the woods. Probably the paper had been put to bed before Jeffrey and Sara had stumbled across the burial site. Lena was sure there would be a huge story on the front page tomorrow. Maybe the newspaper could help them find the girl’s family.

She opened the door, reading about the toaster fire, wondering why it had taken sixteen volunteer firemen to put it out. Sensing a change in the room, she looked up, shocked to see Nan sitting in a chair across from Greg Mitchell, Lena ’s old boyfriend. They had lived together for three years before Greg decided he’d had enough of her temper. He had packed all his stuff and left while she was at work- a cowardly yet in retrospect understandable move- leaving a brief note stuck to the fridge. So brief that she could remember every word. “I love you but I can’t take it anymore. Greg.”

They had talked to each other a total of two times in the almost seven years since then, both conversations taking place on the telephone and both ending with Lena slamming down the receiver before Greg could say anything more than, “It’s me.”

“Lee,” Nan practically screamed, standing up quickly, as if she had been caught.

“Hey,” Lena managed, her throat clenching around the word. She had put the newspaper to her chest as if she needed some kind of protection. Maybe she did.

On the couch beside Greg was a woman around Lena ’s age. She had olive skin and her brown hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail. On a good day, she might pass for one of Lena ’s distant cousins- the ugly ones on Hank’s side. Today, sitting next to Greg, the girl looked more like a whore. It gave Lena some satisfaction that Greg had settled for a lesser copy, but she still had to swallow a tinge of jealousy when she asked, “What are you doing here?” He appeared taken aback, and she tried to moderate her tone, saying, “Back in town, I mean. What are you doing back in town?”

“I, uh…” His face broke into an awkward grin. Maybe he had been expecting her to hit him with the newspaper. She had done it before.

“Shattered my tib-fib,” he said, indicating his ankle. She saw a cane tucked into the couch between him and the girl. “I’m back home for a while so my mom can look after me.”

Lena knew his mother’s house was two streets over. Her heart did an odd kind of tumble in her chest as she wondered how long he had been living there. She racked her brain for something to say, settling on, “How’s she doing? Your mom.”

“Still cantankerous as ever.” His eyes were a crystal clear blue, incongruous with his jet-black hair. He was wearing it longer now, or maybe he had forgotten to get it cut. Greg was always forgetting that sort of thing, spending hours in front of the computer figuring out a program while the house was falling apart around him. They had argued about it constantly. They had argued about everything constantly. She had never let up, not giving him an inch on anything. He had annoyed the shit out of her and she had hated his guts and he was probably the only man she had ever really loved.

He asked, “And you?”

“What?” she said, still stuck in her thoughts. His fingers tapped on the cane, and she saw his nails had been bitten to the quick.

Greg glanced at the other women, his smile a little more hesitant. “I asked how you were doing.”

She shrugged, and there was a long moment of silence where she could only stare at him. Finally, she made herself look down at her hands. She had shredded the corner of the newspaper like a nervous housewife. Jesus, she had never been this uncomfortable in her life. There were lunatics in the asylum with better social skills.

“Lena,” Nan said, her voice taking on a nervous pitch. “This is Mindy Bryant.”

Mindy reached out her hand, and Lena shook it. She saw Greg looking at the scars on the back of her hand and pulled back self-consciously.

His tone had a quiet sadness. “I heard what happened.”

“Yeah,” she managed, tucking her hands into her back pockets. “Listen, I’ve got to get ready for work.”

“Oh, right,” Greg said. He tried to stand. Mindy and Nan reached out to help, but Lena stood where she was. She had wanted to help, even felt her muscles twitch, but for some reason her feet stayed rooted to the floor.

Greg leaned on his cane, telling Lena, “I just thought I’d drop by and let you guys know I’m back in town.” He leaned over and kissed Nan ’s cheek. Lena remembered how many arguments she’d had with Greg over Sibyl’s sexual orientation. He had always been on her sister’s side and probably thought it was really rich that Lena and Nan were living together now. Or maybe not. Greg was not the petty type and never held a grudge for long; it was one of the many qualities she hadn’t understood about him.

He told Lena, “I’m sorry about Sibyl. Mama didn’t tell me until I got back.”

“I’m not surprised,” Lena said. Lu Mitchell had hated Lena on sight. She was one of those women who thought her son walked on water.

Greg said, “So, I’ll get going.”

“Yeah,” Lena answered, stepping back so he could make his way to the door.

“Don’t be a stranger.” Nan patted his arm. She was still acting nervous, and Lena noticed that she was blinking a lot. Something was different about her, but Lena couldn’t put her finger on it.

Greg said, “You look great, Nan. Really good.”

Nan actually blushed, and Lena realized she wasn’t wearing her glasses. When had Nan gotten contacts? And for that matter, why? She had never been the type to worry about her appearance, but today she had even forgone her usual pastels and had dressed in jeans and a plain black T-shirt. Lena had never seen her in anything darker than chartreuse.

Mindy had said something, and Lena apologized, saying, “Sorry?”

“I said it was nice meeting you.” She had a twang that grated, and Lena hoped the smile she managed didn’t betray her aversion.

Greg said, “Nice meeting you, too,” and shook Mindy’s hand.

Lena opened her mouth to say something, then changed her mind. Greg was at the door, his hand on the knob.

He gave Lena one last look over his shoulder. “I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah,” Lena answered, thinking that was pretty much all she had said for the last five minutes.

The door clicked shut and the three women stood in a circle.

Mindy gave a nervous laugh, and Nan joined in just a tad too loudly. She put her hand to her mouth to stop herself.

Mindy said, “I’d better get back to work.” She leaned over to kiss Nan’s cheek, but Nan pulled back. At the last minute, she realized what she had done and leaned forward, hitting Mindy in the nose.

Mindy laughed, rubbing her nose. “I’ll call you.”

“Um, okay,” Nan answered, her face the color of a turnip. “I’ll be here. Today, I mean. Or at work tomorrow.” She looked at everything in the room but Lena. “I mean, I’ll be around.”

“Okay,” Mindy answered, the smile on her face a little tighter. She told Lena, “Nice meeting you.”