Free Pines by Blake Crouch Page B

top of this mountain thirteen years ago. As you know, the circumstances surrounding his disappearance...” She pushed back against the storm of emotion that was waiting, always waiting. “...well, we don’t really have a body or ashes or anything. But...” A smile through the tears. “Idid bring this.” She dug an old plastic ring out of her pocket, the gold paint of the band long since flaked away, the flimsy prongs still holding the emerald-colored prism of glass. Some of the others were crying now too. “He did eventually get me a diamond, but it seemed appropriate, if not more cost-efficient, to bring this.” She pulled a garden spade out of her wet backpack. “I want to leave something close to Ethan here, and this feels right. Ben, would you help me?”
    Theresa knelt down and swept away the ferns until she saw the ground.
    It was saturated from the rain, and the spade speared through easily. She dug out several chunks of earth and then let Ben do the same.
    “I love you, Ethan,” she whispered, “and I miss you so much.”
    Then she dropped the ring into the shallow grave and covered it with the upturned earth and leveled it off with the back of the blade.
    * * *
    That night, back at their home in upper Queen Anne, Theresa threw a party.
    Packed the house with friends, acquaintances, coworkers, loads of booze.
    Their core group of friends—now responsible, tame professionals—had once upon a time been wild and prone to excess, and on the drive home, they’d all vowed to tie one on in Ethan’s honor.
    They kept their word.
    They drank like fish.
    They told stories about Ethan.
    They laughed and cried.
    * * *
    At ten thirty, Theresa was standing on their deck that overlooked the small backyard, and on rare clear days, the Seattle skyline and the hulking, white mass of Mount Rainier to the south. Tonight, the buildings of downtown were obscured in mist, their presence relegated to radiating the cloud deck with a neon glow.
    She leaned against the railing, smoking a cigarette with Darla—something she hadn’t done since her sorority days in college—and nursing her fifth G&T of the night. She hadn’t had this much to drink in ages, knew she’d pay for it in the morning, but for now, she reveled in this beautiful padding that protected her from the sharp edges of reality—the unanswered questions, the fear that was always with her. That haunted her dreams.
    She said to Darla, “What if his life insurance benefit doesn’t pay?”
    “Why wouldn’t it, honey?”
    “No proof of death.”
    “That’s ridiculous.”
    “I’ll have to sell this house. I can’t swing the mortgage on my paralegal salary.”
    She felt Darla’s arm slide through hers. “Don’t think about that right now. Just know that you have friends who love you. Who’d never let anything happen to you or Ben.”
    Theresa set her empty glass on the railing.
    “He wasn’t perfect,” she said.
    “I know.”
    “Not by a long, long shot. But the mistakes he made, when it came down to it...he owned them. I loved him. Always. Even when I first found out, I knew I’d forgive him. He could’ve done it again, and the truth is, I would’ve stayed. He
had
me, you know?”
    “So you two had reconciled completely before he left?”
    “Yeah. I mean, there were still really...tough feelings. What he did...”
    “I know.”
    “But we’d come through the worst of it. We were in counseling. We would’ve made it. And now...I’m a single mother, D.”
    “Let’s get you to bed, Theresa. It’s been a long day. Don’t touch anything. I’ll come over in the morning, help you clean up.”
    “Almost fifteen months he’s been gone, and every day I wake up, I still don’t believe this is really happening. I keep waiting for my cell to ring. For a text from him. Ben asks me constantly when Daddy’s coming home. He knows the answer, but it’s the same thing as with me...same reason I keep checking my phone.”
    “Why,