wrong?’
‘Oh, nothing, Mrs Mandolini.’
‘Tully, you’re ashen. What’s the matter? Is everything all right at home?’
My home? My home is wonderful, here it goes, here it goes, here it falls right now, right here, here we are, I am going to turn around and walk out of this house and I am never going to come back. I just cannot stand here in front of her.
‘Want some lunch?’ Lynn walked business-like into the kitchen, swung open the fridge, and pulled out the Tupperware bowl of tuna salad.
‘I’m glad you’re here. You haven’t talked to me in some time. I feel very close to you, Tully. You’ve been very dear to me, but you know that, of course.’
‘Of course,’ mouthed Tully, to whom Lynn Mandolini’s voice sounded as far away as Zaire and just as black.
‘And to Mr Mandolini, too, despite how he acts sometimes. Want something to eat?’ Lynn asked Tully with her mouth full.
‘Mrs Mandolini,’ said Tully, putting her hands to her throat. ‘Do you know if Jen’s car is in the garage?’
‘Well, of course it is, we always put it there overnight.’
‘Could you check, please?’ Tully asked, trying to keep the raw edge out of her voice. But Lynn must have seen something in Tully, heard something from Tully because she put down her sandwich – though not her Marlboro – and said, ‘Tully, where is Jennifer?’
‘Not in school,’ said Tully. ‘I’m thinking maybe she went shopping or something.’
‘Playing hooky from school? Jennifer?’ Lynn shrugged her shoulders and picked up her tuna sandwich. ‘Well, I suppose anything’s possible,’ she said, her mouth full.
They walked outside to the garage. Lynn turned the key and Tully closed her eyes, wanting not to see. She heard the garage door pull slowly up. When Tully opened her eyes, she saw a brand-new 1978 Camaro, shiny and baby-blue.
Tully did not move and neither did Lynn. Nothing moved except for the ash on Lynn’s cigarette, which broke off and fell to the floor.
‘Gee,’ said Lynn. ‘I wonder where she could be. Where do you think she could be, Tully?’
Tully did not hear her. She was holding on to a low tool shelf, keeping herself steady, and was stunned at the anger that swam over her. Yes. Anger. Fucking, naked anger. Goddamn it, Jennifer, goddamn it, couldn’t you at least go out on the open road, couldn’t you do at least that, to spare us all just a little? Just a fucking little?
‘Tully, where do you think she could be?’ said Lynn, a little more urgently.
Tully looked up at her, met her gaze head-on, and said as calmly as she could, ‘She is in the house, Mrs Mandolini.’ But when she let go of the shelf, her legs gave out under her, and she collapsed to the cement floor.
‘Tully! What’s the matter with you, are you sick?’ said Lynn, helping her up with one hand, the other one still holding on to the Marlboro. ‘You look so awful, why don’t you come in. I’ll have Jen drive you home.’
Tully struggled up. She thought wretchedly as she walked back into the house that if Jennifer wanted to drive, she would have already driven off somewhere. But the car! The car was in the garage.
‘Jennifer!’ yelled Lynn Mandolini at the foot of the stairs. ‘Come and have something to eat. Jenny Lynn!’
There was no answer. Lynn looked at Tully, who was clutching on to the banister. Lynn went up first. Tully trailed behind her. ‘I hope she is all right,’ said Lynn. ‘She hasn’t been feeling well these past couple of days. But it’s so strange. She seemed perfectly fine this morning. Very chipper and everything. Ate a big breakfast.’ Upstairs, the door to Jennifer’s room was shut and so were all the other doors upstairs, making the hallway a dark tunnel. Tully came to stand near Jennifer’s bedroom door.
‘Tully! Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to open the door?’ She walked past Tully and turned the knob.
Jennifer’s room was empty. They both walked in. It was not only empty, it was spotlessly clean. The bed was made, the floor was vacuumed, the window was halfway open. The books and records were in their places.
‘Wow, when did she do that?’ Lynn wondered. ‘Last night it was really messy.’
Tully sat down on Jennifer’s bed. Her hands were wet. ‘This morning. She did it this morning.’
‘What, instead of going to school?’ Lynn said. ‘Well, maybe. I thought you said she was in the house.’
Tully pressed her fingertips to her eyes so hard that when she stopped she saw red spots. ‘Mrs Mandolini. She is not in school and her car is in the garage.’
‘But she is not in the house, either, Tully,’ said Lynn, sounding slightly irritated. ‘Listen, my lunch hour is almost over.’
‘Mrs Mandolini,’ said Tully. ‘Jennifer is in the house.’
‘Tully, the house is completely quiet except for you and me. She can’t be in the house. Where could she be?’
‘Did you try the bathroom?’ Tully said faintly, hating Jennifer at that moment.
Lynn Mandolini started to breathe very hard. ‘There is no noise in the bathroom,’ she said. ‘Why would she be in the bathroom?’
Tully carefully got off the bed, slowly walked past Mrs Mandolini across the hall, and put her hand on the bathroom doorknob.
The door was locked.
Tully stepped away and sank to her knees. ‘She is in the bathroom,’ said Tully, putting her hands to her face.
‘Don’t be absurd,’ said Lynn. ‘Here, let me try. It’s probably just stuck, it sticks sometimes.’
The bathroom door was locked.
‘Jenny?’ said Lynn.
Tully bit down on her lip until she tasted salt and metal.
‘Jenny Lynn,’ said Mrs Mandolini, knocking on the door. ‘Jenny Lynn, honey, open the door, what’s the matter? Honey, please open the door, Jenny Lynn. Jenny Lynn? Jennifer! Open the door! Open the door, Jennifer! Open the goddamn door!’
Tully knelt with her eyes closed, her hands to her ears, mumbling incoherently to herself, ‘Our Father, which art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name…’ all the while listening to Mrs Mandolini’s weeping voice, to her body thudding against the door, to her crying, ‘Jenny Lynn, Jenny Lynn! Honey, please! Open the door for Mommy! Open the door for your mommy, Jenny Lynn!’
Mrs Mandolini ran stumbling downstairs, got a screwdriver, ran back up, knelt down in front of the door handle, and started to frantically unscrew the lock, her right hand on the screwdriver, her left wiping her face, and all the while muttering, ‘Jenny Lynn, Jenny, it will be all right, honey, it will be all right.’
Behind her, Tully clasped her hands. ‘…Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven…’
Lynn got one screw out and before the other one was out she shoved the door open with her shoulder as Tully lowered her head and clenched her trembling hands. ‘…Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those…’
Tully’s eyes were shut tight, but she was not deaf, and only the deaf and the dead did not hear Lynn Mandolini scream and scream and scream when she pushed open the bathroom door and found her daughter.
Be still my soul;