Plus, I fell for a certain handsome lawyer."
"But she married me," Bobby said.
"Don't make me laugh, Bobby, I'll pee in my pants again."
"Diaper."
"You'll be a great father, Bobby," Rebecca said. "Seems like yesterday we were all at SMU … What happened to all that curly hair?"
"Too much testosterone. Makes you go bald."
"Oh, that explains it," Karen said. "I've gained forty pounds and he still can't keep his hands off me."
"I've only gained thirty," Bobby said, digging his spoon into the ice cream carton.
They talked and laughed and ate shrimp and drank beer, as if they were on a family vacation. Scott wished they were. But they were there because the man who had taken his wife was dead.
"Those were good times back then," Rebecca said.
"Last time we were down here, that spring break," Bobby said, "I almost got into a fight at the Balinese with some UT guys. Scotty saved me."
Boo sat up. "A. Scott got into a fight at the Village," she said. "Mother, it was so exciting!"
"A fight?" Rebecca said. "At a shopping center?"
"He beat up a car with his nine-iron," Boo said.
"Why?"
"Because I didn't have a three-wood," Scott said.
"Because the bad man followed me and Pajamae there," Boo said. "So I called A. Scott and he came and broke out the windows on the man's car with his golf club, then the man drove off. It was great."
"What bad man?"
"McCall's goon," Scott said.
"When was this?"
"The day you left," Boo said.
"Oh."
There was an awkward moment of silence. Everyone stared at the sand. Scott stood. "Okay, time for bed."
"Can Mother stay here? She can sleep with us."
"She's going home." To Rebecca: "Where is your home?"
She pointed west into the darkness. "About two miles down the beach. But I can't go home."
"Why not?"
"The police told me not to go back when they released me from jail, said it was still a crime scene, said I can't even get my clothes."
"They've got to finish processing the house soon. Then you can go back."
"I don't think so. A lawyer for Trey's sister sent me a letter in jail, said I wouldn't be allowed back in, that she was the administrator of his estate and the sole beneficiary. Said she owns the house now, that I have no legal right to enter."
"I need to see that letter."
"Scott, I'll stay at a hotel … if you'll loan me the money."
Scott had put the beach house on his credit card. Four thousand dollars for two months. Now a hotel room for Rebecca. Another expense he couldn't afford.
"Miz Fenney," Louis said, "you can have my room. Me and Carlos, we'll bunk in."
Carlos finished off his beer then said, "You snore?"
Louis shrugged. "How would I know?"
Boo jumped up and tugged on her mother until she stood. "Come on, we'll have a sleepover. The three of us. You, me, and Pajamae."
Rebecca looked to Scott. He looked out to sea. The horizon was dotted with the lights of a dozen oil tankers lined up at the entrance to the Ship Channel, transporting oil from the Middle East to refineries in Texas, no longer the center of the crude oil universe. Scott Fenney had once been the center of his wife's universe, or so he had thought; now he was again, but for the law instead of love. He turned back to her and nodded.
Rebecca Fenney would stay that night and every night until the verdict was read.
NINE
Scott was running the beach at first light.
Knowing that after almost two years Rebecca was again sleeping in the same house—in a bed just on the other side of two Sheetrock panels thin enough that he could hear her every movement—had kept him tossing and turning all night … and recalling memorable moments from their sex life. So when the sunlight hit the blinds of his room, he put on his shorts and running shoes and hit the sand.
He ran west, away from the rising sun. The wet sand glistened in the morning light and felt spongy beneath his shoes. The tide was out, and the beach sat wide, filled with a fresh assortment of seashells and sand crabs scurrying sideways and jellyfish
"But she married me," Bobby said.
"Don't make me laugh, Bobby, I'll pee in my pants again."
"Diaper."
"You'll be a great father, Bobby," Rebecca said. "Seems like yesterday we were all at SMU … What happened to all that curly hair?"
"Too much testosterone. Makes you go bald."
"Oh, that explains it," Karen said. "I've gained forty pounds and he still can't keep his hands off me."
"I've only gained thirty," Bobby said, digging his spoon into the ice cream carton.
They talked and laughed and ate shrimp and drank beer, as if they were on a family vacation. Scott wished they were. But they were there because the man who had taken his wife was dead.
"Those were good times back then," Rebecca said.
"Last time we were down here, that spring break," Bobby said, "I almost got into a fight at the Balinese with some UT guys. Scotty saved me."
Boo sat up. "A. Scott got into a fight at the Village," she said. "Mother, it was so exciting!"
"A fight?" Rebecca said. "At a shopping center?"
"He beat up a car with his nine-iron," Boo said.
"Why?"
"Because I didn't have a three-wood," Scott said.
"Because the bad man followed me and Pajamae there," Boo said. "So I called A. Scott and he came and broke out the windows on the man's car with his golf club, then the man drove off. It was great."
"What bad man?"
"McCall's goon," Scott said.
"When was this?"
"The day you left," Boo said.
"Oh."
There was an awkward moment of silence. Everyone stared at the sand. Scott stood. "Okay, time for bed."
"Can Mother stay here? She can sleep with us."
"She's going home." To Rebecca: "Where is your home?"
She pointed west into the darkness. "About two miles down the beach. But I can't go home."
"Why not?"
"The police told me not to go back when they released me from jail, said it was still a crime scene, said I can't even get my clothes."
"They've got to finish processing the house soon. Then you can go back."
"I don't think so. A lawyer for Trey's sister sent me a letter in jail, said I wouldn't be allowed back in, that she was the administrator of his estate and the sole beneficiary. Said she owns the house now, that I have no legal right to enter."
"I need to see that letter."
"Scott, I'll stay at a hotel … if you'll loan me the money."
Scott had put the beach house on his credit card. Four thousand dollars for two months. Now a hotel room for Rebecca. Another expense he couldn't afford.
"Miz Fenney," Louis said, "you can have my room. Me and Carlos, we'll bunk in."
Carlos finished off his beer then said, "You snore?"
Louis shrugged. "How would I know?"
Boo jumped up and tugged on her mother until she stood. "Come on, we'll have a sleepover. The three of us. You, me, and Pajamae."
Rebecca looked to Scott. He looked out to sea. The horizon was dotted with the lights of a dozen oil tankers lined up at the entrance to the Ship Channel, transporting oil from the Middle East to refineries in Texas, no longer the center of the crude oil universe. Scott Fenney had once been the center of his wife's universe, or so he had thought; now he was again, but for the law instead of love. He turned back to her and nodded.
Rebecca Fenney would stay that night and every night until the verdict was read.
NINE
Scott was running the beach at first light.
Knowing that after almost two years Rebecca was again sleeping in the same house—in a bed just on the other side of two Sheetrock panels thin enough that he could hear her every movement—had kept him tossing and turning all night … and recalling memorable moments from their sex life. So when the sunlight hit the blinds of his room, he put on his shorts and running shoes and hit the sand.
He ran west, away from the rising sun. The wet sand glistened in the morning light and felt spongy beneath his shoes. The tide was out, and the beach sat wide, filled with a fresh assortment of seashells and sand crabs scurrying sideways and jellyfish
Similar Books
Abandoned in Hell : The Fight for Vietnam's Firebase Kate (9780698144262)
Joseph L. (FRW) Marvin; Galloway William; Wolf Albracht
