“I didn’t think it was possible to discuss anything to death,” he said, taking a jibe at her.
“Very funny.”
He washed, she dried.
Lucy and Jessica laughed in the next room at something on television. Joe looked over his shoulder at them. They had changed out of their school clothes. They liked to dress alike, much to Sheridan’s consternation. Tonight, they both wore oversized green surgeon’s scrubs.
“Why are they wearing those?” Marybeth asked, suddenly alarmed, knowing whom the shirts once came from.
She raised her voice. “Both of you girls go change clothes right now. I thought I told you to get rid of those.”
Both girls looked back at Marybeth, obvious guilt on their faces. They had forgotten.
“Sorry, Mom,” Lucy said as she skulked to her room. “Sorry, Mrs. Pickett,” Jessica said.
Then it was as if Marybeth’s legs went numb, Joe saw, the way she suddenly reached for the door jamb to keep herself steady.
“What?” Joe asked, puzzled.
Marybeth looked at Joe. Her expression was horrifying.
“What?”
“Oh, no,” she said, looking pale. “Marybeth . . .”
She turned to him and whispered, “Joe, Marie didn’t throw out those scrubs. She let Jessica keep them and wear them.”
“So?”
“Think about it, Joe. A woman wouldn’t keep something like those scrubs around her house unless she had a reason. Marie had to know they were there. She washed them for Jessica, and folded them up for her, probably dozens of times.”
Joe said, “Go on.”
“Why would Marie keep those in her house? Clothes that would remind her husband of the brother he hated? Why would she keep a picture of Eric on her mantel? And now that I think about it, you were more surprised that Eric had come to their house after Cam that day than Marie was.”
Joe felt a hammer blow square in the middle of his chest. “Marybeth, do you know what you’re saying?”
Instead of answering, Marybeth stepped forward to intercept Jessica as she walked toward the bedroom to change. Marybeth dropped to her knees so she could look at Jessica eye-to-eye. She placed her hands gently on the little girl’s shoulders.
“Jessica, how long have you had those shirts?” Jessica stopped and thought. “A while.”
“How long?”
Jessica was surprised at Marybeth’s tone. “A couple of years, I guess. I don’t remember exactly.” “Who gave them to you?” “Uncle Eric.”
Joe watched Jessica carefully. There was fear growing in her eyes. Marybeth asked, “Jessica, was your uncle Eric at your house a couple of years ago? Before you moved here?”
Her eyes were huge and she was on the verge of tears. But she nodded. “Your dad and your uncle Eric didn’t get along very well, did they?” “No.”
“Your dad even asked you to get rid of those hospital scrubs when he saw you wearing them, didn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“But your mom said you could keep them, as long as you never wore them around your dad, right?”
Jessica nodded. “I think they’re cool to wear.” “I understand.”
Jessica looked over Marybeth’s shoulder at Joe. Joe knew that Jessica couldn’t determine if she was in trouble or not.
“No one’s angry with you, Jessica,” he told her. “Just answer Marybeth’s questions.”
Jessica nodded. “My mom said I could keep them as long as I didn’t wear them around my dad, and I never did.”
Marybeth asked, “Your mom and uncle Eric were good friends, weren’t they? They talked a lot on the telephone when your dad wasn’t there, right?”
Joe took a deep breath, feeling a shroud of dark horror engulf him. When Jessica nodded, Joe didn’t even want to see Marybeth’s reaction.
But Marybeth remained calm, at least outwardly.
“Okay, honey,” Marybeth said, standing. “You can go change now.” Jessica didn’t move.
Joe and Marybeth stared at each other, neither wanting to say anything in front of Jessica. Jessica watched them both, and her eyes filled with tears.
She looked at Marybeth. “My mom’s not coming back, is she?”
38
