Thanks, and let's get into this!
The next morning, I get a text from Grant.
IT’S DONE
My hand shakes as I punch in his number. I need to know what happened.
“Did he suffer?” I ask when he picks up.
“Not a lot. I patched him up real good, then poured some in his water bottle and told him to drink to stay hydrated. A few minutes later, he complained that his stomach hurt, and I told him he probably ate too fast, and it could be the effects of the concussion. About five minutes later, he threw up and started convulsing; foam started bubbling up in his mouth. It was gross, but a few minutes later, he stopped breathing.
“I called some friends and told them about dumping the body and that they’d get $10,000 each. Oh, and I have a brilliant idea. Someone breaks into the Carmicheals, grabs a necklace, and places it on his chest before burying him. It will have the misses’ fingerprints on it, and viola, she gets the blame.”
Grant’s cold voice gave me goosebumps. There were no feelings or emotions behind his words. “When are they coming?”
“Tonight. They’ll text when it’s done, and then I’ll let you know.” I mentally go through when Melanie is due home. Of course, she’ll text him on Monday when he’s supposed to return from the cabin. She won’t suspect anything for at least a day. But four days? I guess by the time the police come up, he will already be on his way to Utah.
I push end and throw my phone down on the bed. I have two days before I hear anything, and no one is home, but I can’t sit around and do nothing, worrying about this. I look out the window and see a blue sky. It's time to buy some plants.
I drive on the road to East End Trees, the nursery I’ve been going to for years now. Saturday is their busiest day, so I get there right when they open at 9:00 a.m. I go down the rows and pick up Coleus, Supertunia, and some Sweet Alyssum to fill in the gaps between the tall Phlox and in front of the Iris, Vinca, and some Begonias. I also picked up a few more Spirea bushes I planted last year, a few Asters since most didn't make it last year, and some bags of mulch.
I spread out the blue tarp I carry in the side pocket and load all the plants and mulch in the back, ready to get back home and plant. Before I head back, I stop at the store and grab some food and a few beers for the rest of the weekend. The kids come back from my parents Monday morning, and I drive them to summer camp on Monday afternoon, 30 minutes away. Melanie gets home that night and won’t even get to say goodbye to them. I pleaded with her to take an earlier flight, but she said she had a meeting in the afternoon. She won’t get in until after 10:00 p.m. Sometimes, I feel she does these things on purpose.
I pull in the driveway and open the hatch. It takes me about three trips, but I get all the plants and mulch out and start in the front yard. I grab my shovel, drill with auger attachments to make the job easier, gloves and some fertilizer from the backyard shed and toss them in the wheelbarrow. I may need to attach some tubes to the dripper system for the new bushes.
The sun is high in the sky when I wipe my brow. It takes me nearly 3 hours to plant everything and spread mulch. I sit on the bench in the backyard and admire my work. The new plant additions display colors of purple, yellow, pink, salmon, some reds, and pops of white. I had pulled the yellowed tulips and daffodils so the summer plants could spring up soon. I usually start planting in early May, but we had cooler and wetter weather all month this year, so I had to wait.
I pull off my gloves and return the tools and supplies to the shed. Back inside the house, I grab some cold lemonade from the fridge and pour it into a large cup. My watch reads 1:20 p.m. I started planting around 10:30 when it was cooler, but now it feels almost hot. I sit on the couch and drink the lemonade, the cold, tart liquid sliding down my throat and cooling me down. I hadn’t thought about Troy while planting, but now, thoughts creep up. What if something goes wrong and Grant’s buddies screw up? What if they take my money and then go to the police? Hell, what if one of them is a cop? Stop it, Jeff.
I snap out of it, grab the remote, turn on the TV, and occupy myself with some mind-numbing psychological series. I find myself drifting off, and before I know it, everything goes black.
The phone buzzing shocks me awake. I fumble around for it and see it sticking out between the cushions. I grab it and see the text from Melanie.
DECIDED TO STAY LONGER- BE BACK IN A WEEK OR SO
Of course. She would rather stay in Florida than come back home to me. The kids are gone, so she has no reason to be here as if she cared when she was here. I’m on my own for another week, but if she can’t reach Troy, she will likely come back sooner.
My stomach growls, and I notice the sun is lower in the sky. I turn on the phone and see that it’s almost 7:00 p.m. I’m shocked I slept for almost … well, I really don’t know when I fell asleep, so don’t know how long I was asleep.
I yawn and get up, making my way to the kitchen. I have a few extra patties from the night before, so take them out. I can grill them, along with some corn-on-the-cob. There is leftover watermelon, so I pull that out of the fridge. I take everything out back, set everything on the table, turn on the propane tank, and turn on the grill. It’s still warm outside, so as I wait for the grill to heat up, I take off my shirt and dive into the pool, feeling the cool water wash over me. I swim as much as I can in the summer; it keeps me cool and helps my muscles after working out.
I get out after swimming several laps and shake the water out of my hair. I grab the patties, open the hood, and slap two patties on the grill. I season the meat, then shut the hood down and wait.
___________________________________________________________
It’s Monday morning, and the kids will be home any time. This is the day I get a text from Grant saying Troy’s body has been dumped in his yard, and this whole thing will finally be over. I shower and get dressed, and as I walk down the stairs, I hear the beeping sound of the code, and then the door unlocks. The kids are home.
“Hey, Dad,” Jayden says, charging through the door. Kirsten follows after.
“Hey guys,” how was Grandma and Grandpa’s?”
“Awesome,” Jayden says. “We went to the zoo and saw some cool animals.”
“Yeah? Which ones?” I say, following them into the kitchen. Jayden throws open the pantry and grabs the Apple Jack’s cereal box. He grabs the milk from the fridge and gets two bowls and spoons out. He sets them on the table, along with the cereal and milk.
“We saw lions and tigers … “
“And bears, oh my,” I pipe in, chucking.
“Dad!” Kirsten rolls her eyes.
“Alright, just having fun,” I say, throwing my hands up. I watch the kids gobble up the cereal and wonder if my mom fed them breakfast before they left. It was close to 9:00 by my watch, so I don’t why she wouldn’t have fed them before leaving. “Hey, guys, didn’t Grandma feed you before taking you home?”
“Nope. Grandma didn’t have time,” Jayden says. That’s odd, but I don’t think much about it. She probably had a hair appointment or something.
After breakfast, I tell the kids to head upstairs and pack for camp. Both run up to their rooms.
Thirty minutes later, I check their suitcase and ensure they have all the checked items, repack everything, add the stuff they forgot, and then zip them both up and drag them down our winding stairs. I grab their sleeping bags and extra pillows from the closet and then load the car. A few hours later, after playing video games with them – something I try to do often – we all pile in the car. I timed it so they would get to Camp Wyndham at around noon, and then I would head to the office for the remainder of the day.
My calculations are pretty spot-on since we miss the noon-day traffic and get to the camp around 11:45 before lunch starts at 12:30 p.m. I unload all the luggage, and one of the camp counselors, wearing a red t-shirt with the name in bold white letters and the camp logo of a canoe and blue skies etched inside a perfect circle, smiles. The teen girl with long brown hair and brown eyes looks about 16 as she flips through a list of names on her clipboard and crosses off Jayden and Kirsten’s names. “Okay, all set.” I say goodbye, kiss Kirsten on the cheek, and hug them both.
“I’ll see you in August. Love you, kids.”
“Love you too, Dad,” Kirsten says.
“Ditto,” Jayden calls back as he takes off. Two teen guy counselors, one with blond hair, short but with muscle definition, and the other with brown hair, tall and skinny, take the suitcases, sleeping bags, and pillows and go off to the cabins. I watch, always feeling a little sad that I won’t see them for two months.
Just as I get back in the Lexus, my phone buzzes.
THE JOB IS DONE - TIME TO PONY UP
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