Dennis Lehane by Mystic River (v5)

Author:Mystic River (v5)
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9780061827426
Publisher: a cognizant original v5 release november 04 2010
Published: 2010-11-04T04:00:00+00:00

LATER, AFTER it had thinned out a bit, Jimmy went out onto the back porch and sat under the flapping clothes that had been hanging from the lines stretched across the porch since Saturday afternoon. He sat there with the sun warming him and a pair of Nadine’s denim overalls swaying back and forth through his hair. Annabeth and the girls had cried all last night, filled the apartment with their weeping, and Jimmy had figured he’d join them any second. But he hadn’t. He had screamed on that slope when he saw the look in Sean Devine’s eyes that told him his daughter was dead. Screamed himself hoarse. But outside of that, he hadn’t been able to feel anything. So he sat on the porch now and willed the tears to come.

He tortured himself with snapshots of Katie as a baby, Katie on the other side of that scarred table at Deer Island, Katie crying herself to sleep in his arms six months after he’d gotten out of jail, asking him when her mommy was coming back. He saw little Katie squealing in the tub and eight-year-old Katie riding her bike back from school. He saw Katie smiling and Katie pouting and Katie scrunching her face up in anger and scrunching it up again in confusion as he helped her with long division at the kitchen table. He saw an older Katie sitting on the swing set out back with Diane and Eve, lazing away a summer day, the three of them gawky with preadolescence and braces and legs growing longer and faster than the rest of them could catch up with. He saw Katie lying on her stomach on her bed with Sara and Nadine crawling all over her. He saw her in her junior prom dress. He saw her sitting beside him in his Grand Marquis, chin trembling, as she pulled away from the curb the first day he’d taught her to drive. He saw her screaming and petulant and in his face through her teen years, and yet those images he often found more endearing than the cute, sunshiny ones.

He saw her and saw her and saw her and yet he couldn’t cry.

It’ll come, a calm voice whispered inside of him. You’re just in shock.

But the shock’s wearing off, he answered the voice in his head. Has been since Theo started fucking with me downstairs.

And once it wears off, you’ll feel something.

I feel something already.

That’s grief, the voice said. That’s sorrow.

It’s not grief. It’s not sorrow. It’s rage.

You’ll feel some of that, too. But you’ll get past it.

I don’t want to get past it.

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