The Girl From Home Read Online Free PDF Page A

only a shrug. If he had forgotten, the news of his wife’s passing appears not to be all that distressing.
    â€œTonight is my twenty-fifth high-school reunion,” Jonathan says to change the subject to something grounded in reality.
    â€œThat’s nice.”
    â€œI hope so. Remember Brian Shuster? I’m not sure if he’ll be there, but I’m hoping he will be.”
    Jonathan had read somewhere that people with dementia have an easier time recalling distant memories. Perhaps his father remembered Brian, who had been Jonathan’s inseparable best friend throughout the 1980s, more clearly than the fact his own wife had died this past March.
    Jonathan’s reference to Brian Shuster, however, is met with a blank stare. He might as well be speaking Chinese.
    â€œHe lived on Clayton Road,” Jonathan prods. “We played Little League together?”
    â€œWho?”
    â€œDoesn’t matter. Just someone I knew once.”
    They fall into a silence. The Michigan–Ohio State game’s first half ends and they watch the halftime analysis without a word passing between them. When the players take the field for the second half, Jonathan figures it’s a good enough time as any to take his leave.
    â€œHey, I should be going now, Dad. I need to get ready for the reunion. But like I said, I’m going to be staying at the house, so I’ll come by tomorrow again and tell you all about it. Okay?”
    â€œYou’re staying at my house?”
    â€œYeah. I told you just before.”
    His father’s deep brow furrows, as if he’s trying to make sense of this state of affairs. Jonathan braces to once again have to explain to his father that his wife, Jonathan’s mother, is still dead.
    Instead, his father says, “Johnny, can you do me a favor?”
    â€œSure. What?”
    â€œIf you’re going to come back tomorrow, can you bring Marty with you to visit?”
    â€œMarty? Who’s that?”
    â€œMarty McMarty. My pet monkey.”
    *  *  *
    Jackie Williams isn’t sure whether the bruise over her left eye is still noticeable. It reminds her of a ghost that only she could see. And it terrifies her in the same way.
    Jackie and Rick have been together for twenty-six years, if you went by the first time he asked her out, which was the summer before their senior year at East Carlisle High School. It was twenty-one years if the count began when they started dating the second go-round, which was the summer after they each graduated from college. Twenty years from their engagement, and nineteen from the day they were married.
    â€œYou’ve been in there for like an hour, Jackie,” Rick says from the other side of the bathroom door. “Trust me, you’re going to look better than the rest of your skank friends.”
    Jackie shakes her head in disgust. It was just like Rick to think she was being vain.
    â€œHang on. I won’t be much longer,” she calls back.
    Staring at her reflection, Jackie knows that she looks damned good. At forty-three, with two kids, she could easily pass for ten years younger. Same weight as back in high school, with most of it in the same places as it was back then, too.
    But the mirror undeniably betrays that something is off. Back in the day, she had a killer smile. When she flashed it, everyone fell under her spell—boys, girls, teachers, parents—it didn’t matter. But now, it looks as phony as a bad toupee.
    It last happened a week ago. Rick was drunk, which was bad enough because he’d driven home, but that infraction was nothing compared to the fact that Jackie knew her husband hadn’t been alone. Rick’s new assistant, nineteen-year-old Brittney, was his drinking buddy.
    Jackie had held her tongue all the other times her husband had come home reeking of beer and drugstore perfume. She’d nod like an idiot when he explained he was held up in a business dinner