Burying Water: A Novel by K.A. Tucker

Author:K.A. Tucker [Tucker, K.A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Atria Books
Published: 2014-10-06T22:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-TWO

WATER

NOW

I wake with the loud bang outside my open kitchen window. A sinking dread takes over as I lie frozen, not breathing.

And then the yelling starts.

“That’s what an agreement is, Jesse!”

“This changes everything!”

“No, it hasn’t. Not for her.”

“I’ve changed my mind.”

“You . . . you can’t just change your mind!” Though Sheriff Gabe’s voice is naturally commanding, he has always kept the volume of it in check. Until now. “This was your idea.”

“And it was a fucking stupid one, Dad.” A car door slams. “I can’t do it.”

“You don’t have a choice.”

“You’re right! I don’t. I’ve already quit my job and moved out of my apartment. I’ve got nowhere to go.”

Jesse’s moving back? A small thrill spikes in my chest with the prospect of seeing him every day, even as I wonder what caused it. Maybe it has something to do with that girl in Portland that Amber mentioned.

My curiosity pulls me out of bed. I run on tiptoes across my apartment to the kitchen window that offers a perfect view of the front of the garage. Jesse and Sheriff Gabe are facing off behind Ginny’s truck, the tail end peeking out from inside the garage. That means he got it working again. I don’t care as much about that right now, though.

“After all I have done . . .” Sheriff Gabe is saying. “Your sister’s in the dark! I’ve lied to my wife and when she finds out . . . I could lose everything with the things I’ve done for you. Things I still can’t believe I ever did. Have you forgotten?”

“How could I ever forget any of this?” Jesse launches the tool in his hand at the wall. Even from here, I can see the split in the plaster from the impact. He turns to rest his hands on the truck’s tailgate, his head bowed.

Sheriff Gabe finally reaches out to place a hand on his son’s shoulder. Jesse brushes his face against his own shoulder.

He’s crying. The cool, quiet guy who’s been in all kinds of trouble is crying.

Jesse steps away from his father and, grabbing a tool from the counter, moves inside the garage, out of view. Gabe follows him in.

I’m wide awake now. But if there’s any more conversation, it’s too quiet to catch. Sheriff Gabe walks back to his house, a flashlight guiding his way, leaving Jesse to toil on Ginny’s truck and me perched on the counter, watching. For hours.

At about three a.m. I catch myself nodding off in my sitting position and have to give my spot up, afraid I’ll fall asleep and tumble. I crawl back into bed, the image of Jesse wiping his tears away lingering as I drift off.

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