Читать книгу Attention. Deficit. Disorder. - Brad Listi - Страница 16

Later that afternoon, all of Amanda’s friends went over to Kathy McCormack’s house. Kathy was a friend of Amanda’s from childhood. Her family lived in a beautiful house on a wooded lot on Morning Sun Avenue in Mill Valley. Wells and I walked in together. The whole place was decked out in white Christmas lights. Everyone was drinking. Bottles and cans everywhere. Kathy greeted us, introduced herself, offered us beers. I took one, thanked her, opened it, and walked outside for another cigarette. I hadn’t stopped smoking since I left the church.

The people on the back porch appeared to be intoxicated. There was a joint going around. Laughter and coughing. It almost seemed like a party.

“Mandy would want it to be a celebration,” I heard someone say. “She wouldn’t want everyone to stand around moping. She wouldn’t want it to be sad.”

It was nearly 5:00 p.m., and already the sun was down. It was December 23. The days are short that time of year. Amanda had killed herself the day before the winter solstice. Somehow that made sense. I finished my beer, smoked two more cigarettes, and made some sporadic small talk on the deck with a guy I didn’t know, some neo-hippie from Petaluma with a mangy beard. He was wearing a fur-lined hat with earflaps.

“It’s a strange day,” he said.

“Yeah,” I said.

“Strange energy,” he said.

“Really strange,” I agreed.

“At least we got decent weather,” he said.

“Yeah,” I said.

“Amanda brought us good weather,” he said.

A few seconds later, I stuffed my cigarette butt inside an empty beer can and walked back inside.

People were starting to get outwardly drunk in the living room. The talking was getting louder and less coherent. The room was filling up with false confidence. I stood around in silence for a minute or two, feeling terribly awkward, and then I decided to leave. I had determined that it was safe to leave. I’d been biding my time, and now it was safe to leave. I could claim a long day and an early flight in the morning. I could walk out without having to lie. I’d done my duty. I’d done the right things, said the right things, gone to the right places. All things considered, everything had turned out fine.

I caught Wells in the kitchen and told him I was on my way out. I asked him if he needed a ride back to the East Bay. He told me no thanks, he was going to stick around and catch a ride later. We shook hands by the stove and shared another man-hug. He programmed my contact information into his cell phone and told me he’d call me. I wished him well and went off looking for M.J. and Nancy.

I found them upstairs in Kathy’s room. I knocked twice, lightly, and stuck my head in the door. The two of them were sitting on the bed, locked in heavy conversation. There was a bottle of red wine on the nightstand. Their eyes were red from crying, and their teeth were blue from the wine.

“Hey,” I said. “I just wanted to say good-bye.”

“Fencer,” Nancy said, slurring a little and patting the mattress. “Come sit down.”