Page 83 of Jar of Hearts
“I’m sorry, G. She was a good woman and a good friend. I wanted to make sure you knew. I know they only notify immediate family.”
“She didn’t have any immediate family. She had me.” Ella doesn’t respond to that, because they both knew there’s nothing she can say. A few seconds pass. Finally, Geo says, “What will they do with her body?”
“They’ve already moved it. From what I heard, her husband is going to have her cremated. Apparently she left instructions with him some time ago.”
The philandering husband who was divorcing her. The cheating, disloyal husband who was already with someone else. Geo closes her eyes. “Thank you for telling me.”
“Of course. You take care of yourself, okay? And if you need anything, you have Samuel’s number.” The woman drops her voice. “I know he got you a piece, but if you need more than that—if you needprotection—he’ll hook you up. I told him to watch out for you. I know you got stuff going on, I’ve been watching the news.”
“Thanks,” Geo says again, but her voice is hollow.
They disconnect, and the tears come then, hot and fast and furious. Her body racks with sobs. She’s only loved three women her entire life—her mother, Angela, and Cat, in that order.
And now all three are dead.
Enough.Enoughalready. She can’t bring back the dead, but she can protect the people she loves who are still alive.
Her son, for instance.
The doorbell rings as she’s walking into her father’s home office, and she peeks out the window to see who it is. It’s a police car, and the man standing at her front door is in uniform. Not Kaiser, then.
She ignores the doorbell when it rings a second time, and seats herself at Walter’s desk. Her father has a laptop that he uses to catch up on work at home, and it’s not password protected. As she boots it up, she glances out the window again and sees the police car is still there. The engine is shut off, and the officer inside appears to be talking on the phone.
Geo’s iPhone rings. It’s Kaiser, but she doesn’t answer. A few seconds later, a text message appears on the screen.
Where are you? Have placed police detail outside your house. Don’t be alarmed, taking precautions. Will stop by later to explain. When you get home, stay home.
She doesn’t reply. She’s already home, and there’s business to take care of. Family business.
She finds Facebook and logs in, activating her old account for the first time in more than five years. She could have accessed Facebook through her illegal smartphone in Hazelwood, but it doesn’t exactly add to the prison experience to scroll through pictures of weddings, new babies, new houses, new puppies. She couldn’t give a shit about politics and who was blue and who was red. She didn’t care about who had found spiritual enlightenment, who was checked into the gym, or what someone’s fancy meal looked like at the fancy restaurant they’d eaten at the night before. She was eating cafeteria foodtwenty-one times a week, served on metal plates that were divided into sections. She didn’t need to know how the filet mignon tasted at John Howie’s, fuck you very much. (For the record, she’d had it before, and it was pretty fucking phenomenal.)
Now it’s different. Geo has someone she wants to find. She types in the nameDominic Kentand at least fifty names from all over the world pop up. Frustrated, she triesDominic Kent Spokane, based on the address on the letter, and there’s nothing. She then triesDominic Kent Seattle.There are exactly two.
The first one can’t be him. The man in the profile picture is in his fifties and carrying a hunting rifle. The second one, however, might be. The profile shows a picture of a children’s book cartoon character with a long knife through its skull, and the tagline, “Everything is awesome!”
She clicks on the profile. It’s private, no information shared publicly, but it’s got to be him. She sends a friend request, and then decides maybe it would help to add a personal message as well. Before she can finish thinking of what to say, a notification pops up.
You are now friends with Dominic Kent.
And a second later, she gets a message in her in-box.
Hi! Wow. U found me. So cool.
Geo writes back.
Hello, Dominic. I’ve read your letters. Thank you for writing to me. I’m sorry it’s taken so long to get in touch.
Dominic:That’s OK, I totally get it. So ur out of Hazelwood?
Geo:Yes. Finally.
Dominic:How was it? Prison, I mean? Sorry, so many questions, LOL.
Geo smiles.That’s okay. Happy to tell you whatever you want to know. Are you in Seattle? I would like to speak to you, and it’s rather urgent. I’m happy to come to you, or we can meet any place you like.
A full minute passes. Geo’s heart is beating wildly. Just because he wrote her letters while she was incarcerated doesn’t mean he’s ready to meet in person. The agreement she made with the Kents eighteen years ago was that it would be up to Dominic to decide when he was ready, and that any invitation to meet would have to come from him.
Then again, the agreement they had was that they would love and take care of him. So fuck them.
