Page 49 of Jar of Hearts
He seems to genuinely want to know. He’s pedaling in circles now, but not going too far. Geo watches him, not answering. Finally, she says, “What do you think?”
Before he can respond, the front door of the house across the street opens, and a woman marches out. She makes a beeline for them. The boy sees her.
“Shit,” he says. “That’s Mrs. Heller. She’s gonna rat me out for cutting class. I gotta go.” He stands up on his bike, pumps the pedals, and is almost out of sight before the neighbor steps off the sidewalk and onto the street.
“You’re going to get a new message every day until you move out, you know,” Mrs. Heller says when she reaches Geo. A retired elementary school secretary, Mrs. Heller has been living across the street with her husband for as long as Geo can remember. Her face, devoid of makeup, is more wrinkled, but the eyes are no less sharp than when Geo was a kid. “Nobody wants you here, Georgina.”
The Hellers are courteous neighbors. Cliff Heller has a leaf blower and is happy to tidy Walt’s yard without asking. They pick up the mail when Walt’s out of town, and whenever Geo got sick as a kid,Mrs. Heller would bring over a pot of homemade chicken soup. Were theynicepeople, though? Cliff, yes. Roberta, not so much.
“Good morning, Mrs. Heller.” Geo doesn’t smile, but she keeps her tone pleasant. With the pressure washer out, she presses the button to close the garage door so she can clean it. “I don’t suppose you saw who did it. It happened in the last couple of hours.”
Every neighborhood has that one busybody who knows everybody’s business and seems more invested than everyone else in keeping the “riffraff” out. Roberta Heller is that neighbor, on steroids. Blessed—or cursed?—with an overdeveloped sense of justice, Mrs. Heller is the first to condemn you for anything you’ve done wrong. Geo used to fear her bad side.
It doesn’t scare her anymore.
“I obviously don’t approve of this,” Mrs. Heller said, jerking her coffee mug in the direction of the garage and almost spilling its contents. “But people are upset with you, Georgina. Surely you understand that. I can’t imagine why Walt would have you come back here. All your presence does is remind people of something they don’t want to remember.”
“I won’t be here long,” Geo says.
“Glad to hear it. I’ve always liked your father, you know,” Mrs. Heller says. “Cliff, too. Walt is a good man, and he did his best trying to raise you, but in my opinion, he wasn’t home enough. Damn shame you lost your mother as young as you did. You might have made some different choices.”
“Don’t talk about my mother.” The words are out before Geo can stop herself. “How dare you.”
If it were anyone else, they might have backed off. But not Roberta Heller. The old woman’s eyes gleam, and she steps forward, getting right in Geo’s face.
“I used to think you were a good kid.” The woman is so close Geo can smell the stale coffee on her breath. “But you surprised us all, didn’t you? Turned out you were a wild one, and nobody knew. You had everybody fooled.”
Her neighbor is wrong. Geo had been a good kid. She never diddrugs, not even pot. She only tried smoking cigarettes once, taking exactly one puff of a Marlboro Light after school in seventh grade, and only because Angela insisted. She felt so sick afterward that she never tried it again. She was drunk twice in high school—the first time was at Angela’s house, just the two of them, when her parents were away for the weekend. The second time was the night her best friend died.
No, she wasn’t a “wild one.” The only wild thing Geo ever did was… Calvin.
In fairness to Mrs. Heller, though, that was probably more than enough. She shakes her head at Geo, her face an expression of dramatic disappointment. “Your mother would be so dismayed to see you now.”
Geo’s fists clench, and she forces herself to take a deep breath, counting to five. It feels like eternity. She relaxes her hands. “You’ve been good to my dad, Mrs. Heller,” she says quietly. “So I’ll let that slide. Now please get out of our driveway.”
“Your old boyfriend went on to rape and murder how many more women?” The woman isn’t done yet. If anything, she’s getting herself worked up even more. Her mug is shaking, but not from old-age palsy. She’s angry. “Three, wasn’t it? Which wouldn’t have happened if you’d told the truth all those years ago. And now another woman and little boy—ababy—are dead, because he escaped from prison. How do you sleep at night?”
“Mrs. Heller—”
“You should be ashamed of yourself. We don’t want you here. Nobody in the neighborhood wants you here. So move out, as quick as you can. Your father doesn’t deserve to go through any more than he already has. He loves you, Georgina, which blinds him to who you really are.”
“And who am I?”
“The devil. With a pretty face and a showy car.”
Geo opens her mouth to retort, but then closes it again. What’s the point? Geo served her time. She lost her job. She lost her fiancé. Wherever she goes, for the rest of her life, she’s a google hit away from everybody knowing the terrible thing she did.
So fuck this woman. She didn’t even know Angela Wong. Fuck Roberta Heller and her self-righteousness and her bad breath.
“Get off my father’s property,” Geo says. “Before I remove you myself. You are trespass—”
She never gets a chance to finish her sentence because the woman throws what’s left of her coffee right into Geo’s face. Fortunately, the liquid’s not too hot, but it does hit Geo in the eyes while they’re open, which stings like hell. Some of it lands in her mouth, too, and she can taste it. No cream or sugar, just bitter. Like Roberta Heller.
If this had happened the day before, she’d have the woman on the ground in a chokehold. But this isn’t prison.
“Roberta!” Cliff Heller is running across the street toward them, and by the look on his face, he saw the whole thing. He’s aghast when he reaches his wife, taking her by the arm and shaking her a little. “What are you doing? You stop this. What’s the matter with you?”
“I don’t want her here, Cliff,” Mrs. Heller spits, shaking her husband’s arm off while still glaring at Geo. “She’s a menace. We’re not safe. I don’t know what her connection is to the dead bodies in the woods—”
