2006
The car pulled into a long dirt driveway and Jean stepped out. She stood for a moment as the car pulled away, admiring the long stretch of wood fence and moss swinging from the trees. The branches waved, beaconing her in the direction of a two story white house, the levels stacked on top of each other like a wedding cake. It was a diminutive, homespun estate, with horses wandering the field on her right, swatting hot flies from each other's mouths with their tails.
She walked with her suitcase towards the front door, but before she reached it someone came out. The dark skinned woman, wearing a dark purple dress, put her hands on the back side of her waist and stood next on the porch as Jean dragged her suitcase behind her in the dirt. She caught her breath as the woman's face came into view, her hair long and braided, her face thicker and older now but still as smooth as a night's sky and her eyes round and soft.
Jean felt frail as she reached the steps, her breath hard to reach and her mouth dry. Her eyes couldn't stop looking at the woman, no matter how painful.
"Tam.." she breathed.
She saw the woman's mouth open up and uncertainty afflicted her face as her lips trembled a little.
"Let's get your things inside," she said.
They sat at the table in the kitchen. Newly remodeled and glossy, Jean saw her reflection in every blue and white tile. Tam served her a cappuccino. Jean didn't have the heart to tell her she didn't care for cream anymore. Tamara stirred sugar into her iced tea, watching the cubes knock into the sugar grains.
"I'm sorry about David," she said. "When you told me on the phone I really couldn't believe it."
"That's not true," Jean replied. "You know it could come at any minute."
Tamara looked up at her and realized the comment wasn't a challenge. Jean looked fragile, her hands wrapped around the mug for dear life.
"He found me about five years ago," Tamara said. "Reached out to me, just to ask if I needed anything. I was suspicious but after a while I realized it was just David. He has a comforting way about him."
"He was..." Jean replied, her voice trembling a little.
"David said recently got a call from one of your sons, I guess you have been stirring things up around there. He was really conflicted but he said he had to go there and see what happened. He couldn't keep his mouth shut anymore. He kind of saw it as a chance to get the monkey off his back."
Jean's eyes were blank as they stared at the wood grain on the table.
"I got him killed," she said quietly. "I was never anything but a horrible person to him. Cheated on him, made everything go to shit, then I did it again. When I landed the plane I had a voicemail. Several of them. And... I knew. It was the hardest thing I ever did..." she lifted her head, her face white. "I said 'I can't come there, I'm not around'. To my son. Again. Cause if I go there I'm going to end up like him. Because of what I did..."
They were interrupted by the sound of footsteps stampeding down the stairs in the front of the house. Two young, thin black girls appeared at the foot of the stairs as Tamara yelled at them to slow down. She told them to take their playing outside and they left, with a 'yes ma'am' and a quiet hustle.
"I fostered some girls," she explained. "Todd was around for a while but we had to go our separate ways after I got out of all that. I was lonely, needed something."
"Children are great," Jean agreed.
"It's the best thing I did in my life," she said, nodding. She felt old and wise, and Jean wanted to suck all that knowledge out of her, the things she should have learned but learned the reverse of. It felt shameful to be in her presence.
"David felt guilty about everything just like I do, just like Billy does, just like Dan does, just like you do. And we all act differently. But we are trapped. And we all do what we have to do. I guess you caused a ruckus when they found a body. There's nothing unusual about that."
"But I should have just told them what happened and faced the consequences."
"But you didn't know what happened. You didn't even know who it was."
"I thought they had killed you and covered it up." She reached out and put her hand on Tamara's arm. "Oh my God, Tamara. I was out of my mind. I still am."
"You still are."
"Where did you go?"
Tamara described what happened the night Taylor's mansion burned, how they had gone to the cabin and what David had told her had happened afterwards. How she was hurt and hobbled down the road until she found a house and someone to take her to a hospital. She told them she had been in a car accident. After she was stitched up she made her way back to Kansas City, packed up her bags and escaped down to Alabama with Todd to hide.
"I thought Thomas would come after us all. But I guess Dan worked it out somehow. Probably paid him a bunch of money and kept the gig going."
"I'm amazed by him," Jean confessed. "None of us could keep our heads on straight but Dan just pushed on through."
"There's a price for that," Tama said. "After I ran away, I stepped away from the business and sold everything. That was a good idea, cause after my uncle got busted. I would have been in jail too if I had continued laundering money. I didn't want anything to do with you. Or anyone. I blamed a lot of people. But I wasn't any better than any of you. And my uncle, he believes to this day that you're the devil, cause all these problems came down after that whole thing. And maybe someone did rat him out. But we were all doing something awful and trying to live with it."
"I've been sober for seventeen years," Jean confessed.
"Really," Tam said, amazed.
"Teach piano lessons too."
"My God, Jean, you're a real turnaround story."
Jean smiled and drank the coffee.
"But I don't like cappuccino."
"You're still a bitch, too."
Jean laughed.
They went outside and walked along the fence. A couple horses trotted to greet Tamara who gave them a pat.
"I like it here," she said. "It's quiet."
"I can see that," Jean replied.
"I think about that night every day," she said, still petting the horse. "Every day."
They were quiet for a long time. Tamera patted the horse on the back end and it trotted away.
"I didn't even know anyone had died," Jean said.
"I imagine that's why you're still alive. It wasn't worth going after you. You didn't know the worst of it. Even if you thought you were in the middle of it."
"I don't know if that makes me feel any better."
Tamara leaned against the fence, looking out into the field, and bit her lip.
"You got to go after them, Jean. You got to do what I can't. I got two girls and I can't give them up. But you won't feel right until you do it."
"Yep," Jean agreed. "I sure do."
They were quite a while longer.
"I can't believe you stole a plane to get here."
Jean shrugged.
"I wanted to piss him off. Again."
"I'm sure you did that."
"I hope I did."
"This is Nick, can I help you?"
"This is Jean Schmit."
"...Jean how can I help you?"
"My ex husband is dead."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"I think you know who killed him.'
"Excuse me?"
"I went away for a while but I'm coming back and I'm bringing whatever hell I can to bring down on you and everyone you associate yourself with, so I hope you got enough guns and bombs and poison to take me down cause I don't plan on letting up any time soon."
"Well, Jean, I'm sorry for your loss but I'm not really aware of what you're talking about."
"I'm as guilty as anyone so I don't blame no one for what they've been doing, but I got to tell you, I do blame you, cause you don't have to keep infecting this poor town with all this bullshit over and over and over again. But you still do it. So I'd like to ask you to back off, or I will come for you too."
"I see, Jean. I do hope you have a good day."
"I will, see you soon, Nick."
