Page 7 of June: Jess' Story

On the third ring, a gruff voice answers. “Hello?”

“Hi, uh…is Amy there?” I ask, a bit confused.

“Who is this?” The deep voice, that is decidedly male, asks back.

“This is Jess Butera. I-uh thought I called Amy Ketterman, well used to be Amy Ketterman, not sure what her married name is.” I sort of laugh at that, a bit nervous.Why?Because the gruff deep voice is making me feel that way.

“Amy’s dead.” No pomp, no circumstance, no compassion, just a blatant fact. My stomach plummets. I suck in a little gasp, but stay silent. He’s silent, too. Then I think for aminute, how do I know this is someone Amy knows? What if she changed her number and this is just some asshole tired of getting wrong number calls for an “Amy?”

“Andhowdo you know this?” I ask, my tone accusing.

“Because I’m her husband. Iwasher husband.”Oh. His tone is cold if not flat-out rude. Makes sense. though. I’m the asshole now.

“Oh,” I say, quietly.

“Yeah, so is there something you need?” He pushes to get me off the phone, but all I can think is:dick. This guy’s being a dick. I feel bad that Amy married an ass.

“I was just trying to talk to my cousin. I guess, is there an obituary or is there somewhere I could send flowers? I’d look it up, but I don’t know her married name.”

“There’s nowhere to send flowers to. Don’t need your flowers, don’t need your sympathies.”Click.

He fucking hung up on me. My blood boils a bit.Fucking dickhead.I sit back in my desk chair, still holding the phone and think about what just happened. And all I’m left with is questions.

How did she die? When? What happened to her baby? What was the baby’s name? Started with a T or a G maybe? Does she live with her dad? Was that him I just talked to? Is that poor babe stuck with that asshole? How didn’t I hear about this? Obviously, with Dad gone, I wouldn’t have heard, but my aunt Sally could've let me know. But she didn’t, and why? I think I know why. It’s because she’s a “bigot.” (May’s word for her, not mine).I can’t really prove Sally didn’t like us for that reason. It could have been because my mom broke my dad’s heart and it’s as simple as that. But who knows?

Ugh. I can’t let this go. I tap Amy’s name in my contacts again. On the fourth ring, he answers. “Yes?”

“Hi. First, that was rude. And second, Amy was my family. And I may not have been around much, but I adored her, and I need to know that her daughter is alright.” There’s silence on his end for a little.

“Her daughter died, too.”What the fuck?There’s a slight softening of his tone when he says this.Then he clears his throat. “Tallulah died, too.” I can hear the pain, practically feel it. And a lone tear streaks down my cheek. Alright, maybe he’s allowed to act like an asshole. I’d be an asshole, too.

“How?” I ask, my voice quiet. He’s quiet on his end for more than a moment.

“You’re not going to let this go until you know, are you?” Nope.

“You’re right, I’ll just keep calling.” I’m not trying to sound annoying, it’s just the truth.

“Car accident. They think she unbuckled her seatbelt to pick up a pacifier in the backseat during a torrential downpour, and they collided with an 18-wheeler. Both of them gone, instantly.”No.I touch my fingers to my lips absentmindedly because there are no words that could come out of my mouth to make anything he just said better.

I try, though. “I-I’m very sad for your loss. I’m sad for Amy and I’m sad for Tallulah, and I’m sad for you.” There’s a choked, gruff mumble that comes through the phone. It’s a bit of an affirming sound.

“Okay. I-I’ll let you go then,” I say, not entirely sure he’s still on the line after some time has passed.

“Okay,” is all he says, then hangs up. I set my phonedown on my desk and spend the rest of the afternoon thinking about life and how precarious it is. How transient andheartbreakingthe world can be. How I’m homesick even though I’m sitting in my childhood home. I’m thinking how…I should be with Jules and May right now.

I grab my purse and head towards Mom’s care facility with purpose in my stride.

THREE

Jess

December 25, 2012

It would be a bald-faced lie to say I haven’t thought about my phone call with Amy’s husband at least once a week. It’s stuck with me for some reason, and I can’t shake the nagging feeling tugging at me. Pulling me.

So with nothing to lose, I text Alexander via Amy’s phone.

Jess