"What the hell?" I shook her hand from mine as she closed the sliding door behind us.
We were alone outside. A trail of steps descended into an open field of cut grass lined with flowers at the sides. The land was perfectly flat forcing me to notice the Club was built on a hill giving a perfect overlook of the property. The view was cut off by a dense tree line acres away and I kept my eye on that horizon line as I stomped down the concrete steps and onto the sprawling patio.
Lyle trailed patiently after me until I stopped, realizing I had no idea where I was going. Without a word Lyle met me in the middle of the patio, wrapping her arms around my waist.
"I didn't expect this. I mean I don't expect anything anymore - but it's all just.." My shoulders slacked in defeat. How could I even begin to describe what I spent every day and night imagining? Some sort of hideously naive fairy tale, one where I shoved reality into a corner or behind the canvas backing of a painting.
"He brought her here. He brought my mother to this place. I know we assumed it because of the trophy and the Lily Pad place but I never thought he'd be so blatant about it. She signed in here, that means she wasn't hidden. People must have known her, talked with her, had dinner or played croquet or whatever." I was spiraling as my thoughts left me unfiltered. "Why didn't they say anything when all of sudden she stopped showing up?"
Lyle didn't respond instead she lay her chin in the crook of my neck and I continued.
"Doesn't his wife come here? His father in law? Why the hell would he risk that? Is he just that high on power that he thinks he can get away with-" I stopped myself again not wanting to say the words out loud. "If he was so paranoid about the journal then how come he missed her signature?"
Her voice was soft as she spoke calmly. "Maybe he didn't know about it."
"He's obsessive and smart, he had to know."
I felt energy surge through my body as anger flooded my system but I didn't act on it, what good would it do? I allowed it to fester until I began to twitch with frustration. Lyle held onto me as my body fought within itself as if another person was inside me, one completely possessed by outrage and desperately wanted to get out. I had a feeling even if I did let that being loose they wouldn't know what to do either. Instead of one there would be two of us standing still with our feet stapled to the ground wondering why we couldn't move as we stared at the stapler in our hands.
My anger would solve nothing. It was an energizer but a limitation all the same. A pool of quicksand that would swallow me up whole the moment I relinquished even my pinky toe.
Consciously I turned to Lyle and wrapped my arms around her. "I don't know how you did it." I mumbled into her chest. "You came so close to hurting Monroe, but you didn't. You came back to me, why?"
She exhaled audibly before answering. "I realized that I would still feel like I was drowning. It wasn't Monroe weighing me down it was my anger. I needed something to buoy me not continue to pull me down."
"It's like a weight tied to your ankle." I finished knowing the feeling that she so simply put words to.
Lyle hummed in agreement. I was her buoy and as we held each other in the grassy field she knew that she was my life jacket as well.
In small motions we began rocking back and forth in an effort to relax our tensed muscles. "You're right, clearly the Club is a safe place for him. That's the only reason he would feel so comfortable bringing your mother here and not worry about the retribution. He could control everyone here, just as he does at work." Our subtle rhythm reminded me of the gentle chug of the train that had lulled me to sleep so many times before. Only this time my eyelids were not fighting sleep as I angled my chin to look up at Lyle as she spoke in a hushed tone.
"But you, you are unpredictable and that's what makes you dangerous to him. You can bring him down because his charm and his check book don't work on you."
Her eyes met mine and she cupped my face in her hands kissing the top of my head. "We will get him May."
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