A Notion of Love by Abbie Williams Page B

bad, I knew, but loved these occasional nights out with his buddies. They had been snowmobiling this way together since they were fifteen or so.
    A storm coming, maybe? I parted the curtains and peered out into the winter night to find a gorgeous ivory moon staring back. The world looked peaceful, if frozen in crystals, not a breath of wind to stir the bare branches. I sighed and quietly put on the kettle for a cup of tea. Since Chris’s dad’s death, Elaine slept poorly and I didn’t want to cause her unnecessary alarm. But if I wasn’t drowsy within fifteen minutes, I would call Jo, late or not.
    I didn’t know how much time had passed when I realized the phone was ringing. Again pulled from slumber, tipped over my arms on the table, I lifted my head and knew with certainty that I should not answer that sound. I had been in the midst of a nightmare, this time one in which birds were trying to pull out my hair, screeching, and the noise they’d been making in the dream suddenly became the phone in the dark kitchen. I stumbled to my feet and picked up it up to hear the dial tone. And then I realized that it wasn’t the phone at all but the doorbell, and that someone was now knocking with a forceful thump. My knees were rattling and if we’d had a dog it would have been going apeshit. I felt as though I was about to vomit, but forced my feet to the front door, my fingertips numb as I turned the knob.
    â€œDodge?” I said in confusion. He was bundled in his down jacket and a green hunting hat, and his cheeks were red from the cold.
    Before I said anything else he made a noise I’d never heard him make, as though he was choking, and he stepped into my entryway and pulled me against him, hard and tight. I heard another sound then, a high-pitched keening. I didn’t realize at first that it was coming from my throat.
    â€œJillian, sweetheart, oh God,” he said against my hair, his deep voice gruff and terrible.
    At that second, I knew.
    I started crying then, fighting to get away from him. He didn’t let me, holding me so close, finally saying, “They tried everything, oh God, they tried to…”
    Chris . Oh God, Christopher .
    Sobs overwhelmed me, ripping through me as I gave up struggling to get away, clinging now to the only father I’d ever known, who’d come to tell me something he’d certainly rather have died than have to do.
    â€œWhat…” I sobbed. “What…”
    â€œHe went through the ice on Rose Lake,” Dodge said, still holding me against him. I clung to his jacket, smelling winter and tobacco in its puffy folds. “They tried to get him, Jillian, they tried. But he…but he…”
    I screamed then, hitting him with both fists, ineffectual as that was. He was lying, this was a joke. Any moment he’d laugh and tell me who put him up to this.
    From upstairs the hall light preceded Elaine’s voice calling, “Jillian? What is it?”
    â€œMama?” came another voice at the same moment, full of terror.
    I froze, would have doubled over if not for Dodge’s presence. He gently led me to the couch, calling to Clinty, “It’s all right, little one. Your mama is just fine.”
    But your daddy isn’t , I wanted to shriek. Your daddy isn’t .
    Oh God, oh God.
    My fault .
    How could I have not seen this? Minnie would have seen it, would have warned me.
    You’ll be all right , she’d said long ago. Inside my head an unending scream was rippling. I will never fucking be all right again. How could you let this happen ? I didn’t know if I meant Minnie or myself.
    I rolled forward, curling around my waist, scarcely able to breathe past the sobs that were shredding my insides. I saw Dodge move swiftly to Clint, at the top of the steps leading back down to the basement. Dodge scooped my boy into his embrace. He was talking to Clinty in a soft voice, carrying him into the