Trying the Knot by Todd Erickson

right before our eyes,”
Thad said. He removed himself from the bedside vigil and made it a
point to move out of reach of the benign spell Nick’s presence cast
over the room.
    Hovering protectively near Kate, Nick was so
engulfed in his own obligatory vigil he barely noticed Vange
sprawled before them ineffably vulnerable and comatose. Nick
flashed Thad a questioning glance and asked, “What’s that supposed
to mean? You know something we don’t?”
    Thad shook his head. “Maybe the explanation
is more obvious than we think.”
    “Like she was depressed?” Kate asked.
    “Yeah, something like that.”
    Ben stepped away from Vange’s bedside, and he
pointed out, “Vange wouldn’t ever kill herself if she was
depressed. She spent most of her life depressed. If anything, she
would do it when stoked and manic.”
    “Really?” Chelsea asked doubtfully.
    “She always said when she went, she wanted to
go happy.”
    “Like I said, maybe we’ll never know,” Nick
repeated uneasily.
    “It’s a little too soon to stop asking
questions,” Chelsea said. She walked over to Kate and placed a
protective hand on her shoulder. “Nick, you should put Katherine to
bed.”
    “I’m fine,” Kate insisted sleepily. She was
so subdued that even the slightest breeze might topple her from the
chair.
    “Take her back to my mother’s house. It’s
absolutely empty, and you’re more than welcome to rest in the guest
bedroom,” Chelsea said. “Most of Kate’s stuff is there anyway.”
    Kate had spent last night at Ginny Norris’s
house. In an effort to avoid her father and stepmother, she
traveled elusively between Chelsea’s mom’s and Nick’s parents’
houses. Nick agreed it seemed like the most logical option, and he
helped a wearily drugged Kate onto her feet. She rested her head
against his shoulder, closed her heavy brown eyes and proceeded as
if sleepwalking through a bad dream. Nick guided them from the
room, but not before Ben leaned over and gave Evangelica’s
oblivious hand a gentle goodbye squeeze.
    With the greatest of care, Nick helped ease
Kate into the passenger seat of his Jeep Wrangler. Before driving
away, he waved gravely at Ben and Chelsea. Lagging behind and
smoking as usual, Thad suggested the three of them grab breakfast.
They were not quite ready to abandon the fragile network of support
that had sprung up between them. He offered to drive Chelsea, and
Ben rode his motorcycle.
    Once settled in the putrid car, Chelsea shook
her head and was dismayed to discover there was only an AM/FM
radio. It was set to Silver 96.7, and she joked it was the age of
the average listener. Harry Connick, Jr. crooned while Thad
struggled to start the car. Plucking a few gum wrappers off her
seat, Chelsea asked, “What do you think he is hiding?”
    “It’s not like Nick to keep secrets.”
    “I mean Benjamin.”
    “What could he possibly be keeping from
us?”
    “I have no idea, Thaddeus, but I don’t trust
him. Not at all.”
    “Is it because he’s in love with her?”
    Shocked and dismayed, Chelsea asked, “Is he
really? Still, after all these years?”
    “I think so.”
    “But she’s getting married tomorrow!”
    “No, not Kate. I think he’s in love with
Vange,” Thad said. “But I’m not sure he even realizes it.”
    The rusted out, brown Datsun chugged to life,
and it roared so loudly conversation was pointless. The car hacked
and sputtered its way from the hospital to the diner across
town.
     
     

 
    chapter four
     
    “Didn’t her father kill himself?” Chelsea
asked.
    “Sure did,” Thad answered, “maybe it’s a
family curse, or something.”
    “Did she ever talk about him?” Chelsea
asked.
    Ben said vaguely, “He was half Indian and
played the bongos.”
    “A Native-American Ricky Ricardo?” Thad
wondered.
    “Not. Vange always told everyone her drunken
mother drove him over the edge,” Ben said, tossing his leather coat
aside.
    “Didn’t you wear that in high