CARRIE & JON, late June 2016
“So you are pissed at him now?” Jon put the coffee to his lips, but watched his wife carefully.
Carrie tried to find the right expression but only succeeded in looking like she had bitten into a grape that was probably sour.
Soft sunlight cascaded through the dusty window in the miniscule kitchen, a sign that initially had prompted a smile from Carrie … when she had gone in 15 minutes earlier to prep breakfast, lunchboxes and the usual seven zillion other things she had to do before the kids woke up.
At least she would have this today.
And then she had read her email on the phone, while drinking juice from the bottle.
“It’s so typical of Lars.” She shrugged, sighed. “He always finds some issue to tear into, and doesn’t give up until he has bitten off your leg.”
Jon drank the rest of the coffee. “Why do you still write him?”
Carrie frowned. “What?”
“It’s not that.” Jon grinned. “I don’t care about your high school ex-boyfriend. But since you made contact with your old gang again, you’ve been more grumpy than usual. I thought old friends should made you feel good.”
“‘Who are you calling grumpy’?” Carrie put down the bottle and went over to stand very close to him. “And for the record, Lars Anestad was never my boyfriend.”
Jon feigned he was absolutely uninterested in the way she pressed him up against the kitchen counter, as if she was the one in uniform about to make an arrest. “That’s not what you told me back when you all went to that get-together in Vegas.”
He grinned and stroked her short hair. “Should I get home more often?”
Carrie leaned her head against his chest and let him embrace her, any thought of arrest given up for good. She closed her eyes. “You are hopeless. You’re taking what I said out of … out of context. And it was 20 years ago. And we were drunk.”
Carrie was trying to tease him, too, her hands gently stroking his back, while she returned the embrace.
But Jon could feel that she trembled slightly.
“Hey, I was just fooling around. I’d better get downtown.” He reached for his hat which was placed strategically beside his coffee cup and keys. Essentials for the day.
Carrie opened her eyes, looked straight at him. “It’s like Lars has never really stopped living in the past. He never talks about his daughter or his wife … well, ex-wife. It’s all about what we did back then. It’s like he has some kind of score to settle.”
“With you?”
“With the past …” She shook her head and backed away from him. “That … doesn’t make sense, does it? Oh, frak – I think Michael is waking up.” She shot a nervous glance toward the hallway and the children’s rooms.
“What’s he singing about these days?” Jon asked, checking his belt and gun. “Wasn’t there a record out or something?”
Carrie shook her head again, while she quickly gathered Michael’s bottles from the fridge. One for each drink he had to have ready at the moment he woke up. Milk, water and juice.
He seldom drank the juice, but Carrie was still hoping. Just like she was with all kinds of other food, except for the special bread and chocolate Michael did consume.
“I think he is writing a song right now about Lin – and what it was like after she died.”
Jon nodded slowly. “I thought you and Lin were best friends. Did he and she-?”
Carrie dropped one of the bottles because she was rushing to get all Michael’s things ready. “She-damn!“
They could hear the little boy beginning to whimper in his room, and it wasn’t decipherable yet if it was just passing, or if he would have a meltdown because he had woken too early.
“Let me.” Jon picked up the bottle quickly and got Michael’s special bread on a plate. “You don’t have to tell me.”
Carrie ignored him, picking up everything at once, pressing bottles against her stomach with one arm and holding the plate with another. She had to hurry.
In the doorway, she turned. “I think he was in love with her. And jealous that she … liked me. It’s teenage hormones and all that. A bloody mess.”
Before he could answer she ran to the room. Jon knew it was her turn this morning, and that he had to go out the backdoor.
If Michael saw he was still here, there was a risk he wouldn’t go to school. For some reason the boy had had the strange idea that he would only go in the morning, if his mother was alone with him.
Which of course complicated things when Jon was actually able to take the kids to school.
He bit his lip and took the keys, heading for the car.
Autism manuals should be provided, he thought, as he opened the car door and hesitated when he heard screaming from inside Michael’s room.
Emma could help her mom. He was already late for work. Why wasn’t she up yet?
With sheer force of will Jon got himself into the car.
Outside the temperature was already rising, Yuma’s desert sun revealing that its early light was only a distraction from what was to come.
Jon turned the keys in the ignition.
He had no friends left from high school. That’s what you got from parents who moved all over the damn country.
But right now he didn’t miss that kind of old friends.
And part of him hoped they would go away again. Carrie had enough to deal with already. He had …
Jon turned on the car radio.
Usually he didn’t listen to heavy rock in the morning, or at other times …
… but right now he knew he would have a hard time getting through the day if he didn’t.
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Cover – from Pexel free photos via WordPress
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64-190624
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Song: Manowar – “Carry On”