Chapter 36
I sit beside Tom on the couch, my hands wrapped in bandages.
He rushed home from work after my nearly incoherent call, and after tending to me, he went to check on the furious old woman.
She was fine, save for a few facial cuts and her unending outrage.
He told her we would pay for the broken window and arranged for a repairman to visit her first thing tomorrow.
Then he helped her cover the window with a tarp.
He’s telling me now how filthy it was inside her house, and then he looks at me significantly.
“The dog’s name is Henry.”
I nod, ashamed. “But it was Rosie’s bark,” I say. “I can’t tell you—”
“You shouldn’t have been out. Period. You promised to stay home!
You even left a pot on the stove!” I hadn’t forgotten about the pot on the stove—I was only leaving for a short time and knew it would be safe, simmering on low.
I often leave the house with a pot on the stove.
But I don’t say that, Tom wouldn’t understand.
“I’d planned to stay home. I meant to. But then I heard her.”
“How could you even think it was Rosie?”
“Tom, believe me. It was her. The bark was hers. You would have thought it was Rosie, too, if you’d heard what I heard.
” I want to appear firm and strong and clearheaded, but I’m holding back tears.
I don’t want Tom to take my bandaged hand gently in his, to speak softly to me, to be kind, because the tears will spill over.
They do, and I swipe at them impatiently.
“Whether you did or didn’t hear Rosie is beside the point.
You shouldn’t have been out, wandering around.
” Like a dog off its leash, you mean, I want to say.
Like a child toddling into the street. I look in Tom’s concerned face and see a trace of smug confirmation: that he’s been right all along, that his errant wife needs to be scolded and confined.
“I took Tom Junior’s hunting knife with me,” I blurt. “I had it in my pocket. I’ve been carrying it—in my purse.” I want to impress him, but his eyes widen. He wipes a hand down his face and shakes his head.
“You think you’ll be able to reach for it and unfold it in time, with this guy coming after you?
” His flushed cheeks are worrying; I need to calm him down.
I’ve been so lost in my own drama lately that I haven’t considered Tom’s health enough.
Tom, who should be resting when he isn’t at work, tinkering in the backyard or reading a magazine.
Not patching up the neighbor’s window his wife crashed through in search of their impossibly reanimated dog.
I did hear it, though. I did.
“I’m sorry, Tom. I convinced myself it was her—somehow. I think he did it, to lure me farther than I wanted to go. Maybe he has a dog…I mean a dog with a bark like Rosie’s, and he…” I trail off as Tom stares at me.
“How would he do that, Judith? How would that even be possible?”
“I don’t know. He often does impossible things. But I’m certain I heard her voice. Her bark. I wasn’t mistaken. You don’t have to believe me, but I wish you would.”
Tom doesn’t answer but nods his head in a wobbly, broken way and eventually looks at me with brimming eyes.
“I can’t lose you, Judy. You have to take care of yourself.
” I said the same words—or almost the same words—to Tom when he finally came to after his episode.
We were in his hospital room. He was attached to monitors and an IV, and he looked so forlorn, so frail, not my usual sturdy Tom.
I don’t know if he’s using the same phrasing on purpose or not, but I know I can’t deny him. I don’t want to.
“I will, Tom. I promise,” I tell him, because I can’t add, as long as the man lets me.
“And I’m sorry about today. I don’t—know what happened.
” I hear the sound of breaking glass all over again and can’t quite attach it to my own actions.
Did I really break a window? I have to look down at my hands to convince myself I did.
Concrete evidence, like Denby and Christenson demand.
I give a little laugh, and Tom looks at me.
“Maybe we should go to the station now and show them my hands. Tell them he did this to me. Do you think they’d finally do something then?
” I watch Tom closely—his cheek twitches first, and then he laughs.
For a moment, my whole body relaxes. I reach my wounded hands to his face and bring it to mine.