Chapter 27 #2
Compass spurned him. At the time, Jenn seemed devastated, and claimed to have no idea Oscar was in such a bad place. But,
based on the past year and Will’s troubles with Jenn . . . now he had to wonder. He thought of Oscar’s funeral, which was
held over Spring Break. The mom, sobbing, her arm so tight around a little girl, like she was clinging to a buoy. The dad,
shaking everyone’s hand and saying, “Thank you for coming,” in a bizarrely normal voice. Had Jenn outed Oscar to the Compass
leadership, like she outed Will to the elder board? Had Oscar drowned in rejection and self-hatred, like Will was drowning?
The group was ascending the deck stairs. Jenn led the way, pulling open the sliding glass doors and saying, “Where does Phelps keep the champagne?”
Allie answered, “It’s in the fridge, on its side.”
And wasn’t this exactly how it always played out? No consequences for Jennifer Bernanke. Never consequences. Just look at
tonight. Jenn shot Doug, yet the party went on. Even if Will could prove every single one of her misdeeds, from her abusive
behavior toward Will to her betrayal of Bunny, Jenn had the shining armor of her perfect persona, built over the years, crafted
from post after post. Bulletproof.
Ted laughed at something Allie said, drawing Will’s attention for a split second. They were speculating on how Doug was doing.
“I’ve been shot before. It feels like fire . . .” said Ted.
Fire.
It hit Will so fast and hard he actually stumbled on the final step up to the deck. Bunny half caught him.
“You okay?” said Bunny.
“Sorry, fine,” he gasped, letting out a silly little giggle.
This was it. His salvation. The way he could get rid of her. Her “crimes” to this point weren’t illegal, but arson . . . the
fire Ted had accused her of wanting to start . . . that was different. What if, upon Ted’s refusal to do the job—and this was assuming Ted’s story was true—she’d decided to do the job herself?
Will had to admit it was a little far-fetched. But . . . how messed up was it that suddenly, desperately, Will hoped she had,
that she was responsible for Eddie Duszynski’s death? It had seemed crazy at dinner; he’d dismissed it because Ted was a jerk as well as
a criminal, but the more he thought about it . . .
“Listen, Bunny . . . let me talk to Jenn,” he said.
“Really?” said Bunny, a little breathless. “Don’t you think it’s better that I—”
“Let me. Please. She’s my wife.” This was all on him anyway.
On him for inviting Jenn to that first party fourteen years ago .
. . for bringing her into this group of vulnerable, complicated people he loved, damn it, even if they were all screwups like Jenn was always telling him, but wasn’t Will a screwup too?
“This is my business with her,” objected Bunny.
“Give me a chance,” countered Will. “Just the first shot. Please. After midnight, after the toasting is done, I’ll pull her
aside. My wife owes me the truth too.”
“Well . . . okay,” said Bunny, squeezing Will’s arm one last time. She lowered her voice. “But after your turn, I get my shot.
I have to speak my truth, Will.”
“Of course,” he said.
Then, from just inside the sliding door, Ted gallantly spread an arm to usher Bunny out of the cold and into the kitchen.
Will’s mind was finally clearing, but it wasn’t Bunny’s inheritance he was interested in. Not anymore.
How would Jenn have pulled it off? Theoretically? Arson wasn’t something one did casually. Would she have found someone else
to do her dirty work after Ted refused? Or done it herself? But who would believe a woman with a newborn would drive all night
long to burn down a restaurant she’d invested in?
“You coming, man?” said Ted, hand on the sliding door, ready to pull it closed.
Will was the only one left outside. Ted stood in the threshold, waiting, but Will didn’t move. A woman with a newborn. . . .
Yes, hadn’t he just had a conversation about Tessa being a newborn? Who was he talking to? He scratched his chin and willed
his brain to ping. He could almost hear Tessa speaking—upset—
No fair, I want to watch movies too!
Yes, yes—in his office this morning—the best night of Mackenzie’s life—
“You go ahead,” Will said as his heart pounded with sudden, sick hope. He had her. He might just finally have her. “I need to call my kid.”
Ted shrugged and closed the sliding door. Will could see Jenn through the glass, pulling champagne bottles out of the fridge.
Will turned his back to the house and dialed his home phone. He hadn’t prayed for a while, it was too confusing, but he prayed
now. Please, God, don’t let Jenn come out to find me . . . I just need five minutes . . .
“Hello? William?” His mother-in-law Doreen’s voice was raspy. Tense.
“Hi, Doreen,” he said. “I hope I didn’t wake you up—”
“What happened? Are you okay?”
“Fine, fine, sorry to alarm you. It’s just . . . I promised Mackenzie I’d call her at midnight.” The lie would have to do.
“She’s fast asleep!” Doreen reproved. She was a strong woman, Jenn’s mother. A strong woman with a weak, alcoholic husband.
My role model, Jenn always said about her mother. “How about tomorrow morning I tell her you called—”
“No,” said Will firmly. “Wake her up.”
His mother-in-law grumbled all the way, but soon the sleepy voice of his ten-year-old daughter was on the line.
“Daddy?”
“Hi, sweet pea!” he said warmly. “Sorry to wake you up, but I have a really important question. And hey, go into your room
and close the door so Granny can’t hear you.”
“Okay,” said Mackenzie. He heard the door shutting and took a deep breath.
“Remember when you were talking about Mommy leaving you in charge?”
“Yeah!” she said, instantly sounding 100 percent awake. “It was amazing, I watched movies all night long!”
“Yes, you watched Frozen, right? And you said you were five. Are you sure about that?”
“Of course I’m sure,” she said, indignant. “Tessa was just born!”
“Do you remember what night that was? Maybe . . . what month? Or what day?”
“It was winter,” she said slowly. “And the Christmas tree was up . . .”
“Was it before or after Christmas Day, honey?”
“Before.” She sounded certain. “I didn’t have my new tent yet with the glow-in-the-dark stars. Remember my tent?”
“Yes, I remember, it was a great tent. So, what day of the week was it, do you think? Like, a Monday? A Tuesday? Oh, hey—we
did that Advent calendar. Remember, with the chocolates? Do you know what number day it was?”
The restaurant had burned down in the middle of the night, between the fifteenth and sixteenth. If he could get her to remember
specifically . . .
“I don’t know,” said Mackenzie. “It was a long time ago, Daddy. Why are you asking me all these questions?”
Will sighed. Mackenzie had a fearsome memory, but it had been so long, and she was so little at the time.
“You know what, never mind,” he said, forcing a casual laugh to cover the plummet of defeat in his chest. “I was just curious.
You said it was so fun, I just thought . . .”
“Wait! It was snowing!” said Mackenzie. “I watched Mommy put the car seat into the van, and then she drove away and the snow
looked like little diamonds!”
Will had to lean on the railing to steady himself.
This—this was it. And the image was as chilling as he might have hoped—or feared. His wife loading their newborn into the
car to go burn down a restaurant three hours away. Dear God, the nerve of it all. What if he had woken up?
“Daddy?” said Mackenzie, sounding suddenly worried. “Is everything . . . okay?”
Will forced himself to keep his voice light. Positive. “Yes! This was perfect, honey. Thank you. Thank you so much.”
He made Mackenzie promise not to tell Granny about their conversation and wished her a happy New Year. Then he googled 2014 december weather in indianapolis. He was so revved up he felt like he might either pass out or float up into the sky. This could be another dead end . . .
or it could be everything.
When he got to the end of his search, he laughed. There was only one instance of snow in Indianapolis in all of December 2014.
Some flurries around 10 p.m. the night of December fifteenth.
His head was hot, then cold, then hot again. He laughed again, louder. She had burned the place down with her own two hands.
There was no precedent telling Will how to feel about this. It was a nightmare. It was a dream. His horrible only hope at
exposing his wife and getting full custody of the girls.
Just then, the glass door slid open, spilling out warmth and light and laughter.
“Will?” It was Jenn’s voice. “What are you doing out here?”
He turned. There she was, looking just as she had when he met her on campus during freshman orientation at Ball State. Beautiful
and fresh, with her bouncy curls and her sporty body. An amazing smile too. The girl next door every man dreamed of.
“Champagne! Pass out the champagne!” Ted was crying from inside. “It’s the countdown!”
“It’s almost midnight,” said Jenn, holding up a champagne flute.
If Will could dial back time, he would run. Far, far away. Of course, it was too late for that. But maybe it wasn’t too late
for a different future.
“Wouldn’t miss it,” he said, walking toward his wife.
Got you.