Page 24 of (My Accidental) Killer Summer

It takes her a good twenty minutes to arrive. In that time, I’ve checked on my kids once—they’re still asleep, and Doug twice—he hasn’t moved, and I’m feeling calmer. Until I see her face, then I feel the panic rise again. I run my hands through my hair and tug at it as I recount the events leading into tonight—his behavior at my house.

The things he said about Jaq and the way he looked at Jill. The confrontation in the Jenkins’ backyard, how Doug attacked me, and I fought back. And ending with how I’d swung that stupid gnome like it was my only chance at survival. “I killed him with a garden gnome,” I finish lamely.

“A gnome?” Amy stifles a giggle and stares at me as if waiting for the punchline of a joke.

“Yes! And now he’s dead!” The words tumble out in a rush, each one heavier than the last.

“Okay,” she says slowly, processing what I’ve just told her. “So, you’re saying you killed him with a garden gnome?” This time she doesn’t suppress the laughter. “I’m sorry, I know, inappropriate reaction. But, really, a gnome?”

“Yes.” I can’t believe she’s laughing at time like this. My life is falling apart. I point to the murder weapon. “A garden gnome.”

“In the head?” She confirms.

I nod.

She puts a finger against her lips, then points it at me. “So, you’re saying you gnome-domed him?”

Then, I can’t help it. I laugh with her. Uncontrollably.

“Gnome-domed?” I ask, gasping. “Where do you come up with this shit?”

“It’s a gift.” She shrugs.

When we sober she leans down to pick it up. “It’s heavy.”

“I know!”

“Oh shit,” she says. “Now my fingerprints are on the murder weapon too.”

“Pretty sure that’s the least of your worries at this point,” I say.

“Where is he now?” she asks.

“Who? Doug?”

“No, the gnome! Yes, Doug!”

“Sorry, I’m a little freaked out over having just committed murder. Excuse me if I’m not following the interrogation completely.”

“Well?”

“In the Jenkins’ backyard,” I admit, feeling shame wash over me like cold water.

Amy’s eyes widen. “You just left him there?”

“Yes, I left him there! What was I supposed to do, carry him out?” My voice rises in pitch as frustration bubbles over.

“Okay.” Her voice is low and serious now. “We need to call the police.”

“No!” The word bursts from my lips before I can stop it. “If I call the cops, I don’t get to explain. I just become a woman who killed a man. A mom in handcuffs. That’s all they’ll see. Not the fear of Doug. Or what a sleaze he is. Er was. Just blood and gore and a garden gnome. They’ll think I’m a murderer!” I brandish the gnome to illustrate my point.

“Because you are!” She throws her hands up in exasperation.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen!” I feel myself bordering on hysteria like no other. “What have I done, Ames? I can’t go to prison, what will happen to the kids?”

“Okay,” she says again, softer this time. “It’s going to be okay. What about Noah? Can we call him?”

“Oh, hell no!”