“Not sure.” Standing, my heart pumps wildly in my chest, imagining someone broke into our gated community, shot the security guard, and chose my house out of a hundred to break into and murder me. Not likely, but my mind always goes there.
The knock at the door follows. Hesitantly, I look over at the camera to see two police officers standing at my door.
I swallow over the lump in my throat, knowing what this is. My hands shake, my breathing tense. “Who is it?”
“The police. I think.” I look over my shoulder at her, forcing humor into my tone. “Did you rob a bank before you came over here?”
Her eyes widen and she swallows hard. “What? No.”
“Where’s Tatum?”
She motions behind her. “Sleeping. Do you think it’s really the police? No cap, I’ve totes seen this on the news. Murderers dress up like police and get inside their house and chop our heads off.”
Not only do I not understand half of what she said, it’s crossed my mind already too, but I have to keep her calm. “It’s fine. I’ll ask for a badge. I won’t let them in.”
I crack the door open, cool air hitting my face and the fresh smell of rain. I hadn’t realized it started raining again. My eyes move from the driveway to the men before me. Drawing in a quick breath, I clear my throat. “Hello?”
The officer on the left speaks first and shows me his badge. “Hello, ma’am. I’m officer Thompson and this is Detective Sharp.” Officer Thompson’s eyes shift to Emmie behind me. “Can we come inside for a moment?”
“Uh, well.” My heart thumps harder against my breastbone. I try really hard to remember every horror movie I’ve ever seen. Hello, it’s Friday the thirteenth. No way I want to die like this at the hands of police officers.
“No, you can’t come in.” Beside me now, Emmie clears her throat. “Show us your badges.”
“Yes, here.” They both flash their badges, drops of rain on their dark jackets.
I focus on the rain and the wind outside. I drop my eyes to our front porch, the pebble stone path leading up to our door, and it’s as if I’m watching myself from a distance, frozen in a moment I can’t escape, and knowing what comes next will forever change my life.
Deep inside, I know what this is about, but I’m too scared to say anything or allow myself to crumble.
“These guys are sus,” Emmie whispers in my ear, pulling on my shoulder.
I stare at her, my body sagging with the weight of her attached to my side. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“Suspicious.” She hands me her phone. “Call the police and ask if they’re real. Their badges could be fake.”
I have to admit, Emmie’s making me even more paranoid. “I’m sure they’re not. They came in a patrol car,” I whisper back, trying to force a smile at the officers who can clearly hear everything we’re saying.
“Yes, come in.” I motion them forward, their boots squeaking against the tile entry of our home. “Can I get you something to drink? Water? Beer?” Dumbass. They can’t drink. “Juice box?”
“No, thank you,” they reply, removing their shoes at the door.
Wow. Gentlemen even.
“What’s this about?”
They take a seat on our couch in the formal living room we never sit in. On the couch Collin’s mom picked out and I can’t stand. It’s bland. White. Boring. I stare at them, waiting for what I think they’re about to tell me.
Do you have those moments when you’re looking at someone, and you know they’re talking, their mouth is moving, forming words, but you have no idea what they’re saying?
I’ve been there. No, no… I’m actually there right now. His mouth is moving, isn’t it? Or am I imagining that too?
Officer Sharp’s eyes move to Emmie. “Can we have a moment alone with your mother?”
Emmie does that thing where it looks like her head is about to snap off. “No. I’m not leaving her alone with you two.” And then she gives them the two-fingered “I’m watching you” point.
“She’s fine. She’s our babysitter.”
“Mrs. Greyson?” Officer Thompson clears his throat. “Are you Collin Greyson’s wife, Sydney Greyson?”
Fear hits me in the chest, a hard punch right to my heart. I nod. It’s all I can do, because like I said, I know what’s coming next. Emmie sits next to me, her sudden silence evident of the shift in the air. It’s quiet, the only sound is the boom of my heart in my ears.
Leaning forward, his elbows rest on his knees. “Your husband, Collin, was involved in a car accident tonight… and unfortunately, he passed away at the scene.”
At first, I don’t understand what he said. It’s not until Emmie gasps, her hand on mine.
The words… I focus on them for a moment while I attempt to process the meaning behind them.
Collin. My Collin? My husband.
My stomach feels like it’s been drop-kicked by a horse. It hits me like a brick to my chest even before they give me the news. In the movies, this is where the Lord Huron song begins to play. Or the music softens, and the shot blurs, unable to catch the true significance of one’s life being altered by a four-letter word.
Emmie touches her hand to my shoulder. “No way.”
I don’t say anything. I’m not sure I can.
“How do you know it was Collin?” Emmie asks, and I don’t have to look over to know she’s near tears. “You could be wrong.”
“His ID in his wallet and the Tesla he was driving was registered to him.”
The officer who delivered the news hands me a business card. They tell me things like I can contact a counselor and where to pick up his belongings. And that his accident occurred on Interstate 60. While they continue talking, I think, why was he down that far? His bank is in North Phoenix. It doesn’t make any sense.
Died. He died?
Fear knots in my throat, and it’s as if someone is choking me. As I close the door, reality crashes against me as I stumble back. What do I do? Who do I call first? His mom? His dad?
Oh my God, Tatum. I don’t know why, but I hadn’t thought of her, until now. I want to rush up the stairs and hold her. Cry with her, but I’m afraid to tell her. How am I going to tell her that her daddy is gone? I was twenty-one when my dad died. I was an adult and understood that death happens as you get older. It didn’t mean that I like the fact that I lost both my parents in the same year, but Tatum’s three. She has her whole life ahead of her and now has to face it without the one man she looks up to.
When I woke up this morning, I didn’t know my world would be turned upside down, and every aspect of my life forever altered. Nausea rolls through me, my only thought, fuck, I’d been an asshole to him this morning. Had I known that was the last time I would see him, I would have… hugged him? I don’t know.
Reality smacks me in the face. It’d been two days since I told him I loved him. Two days!
He knew though, didn’t he?
The most commonly thrown pitch in baseball is a pitch meant to be thrown very fast. There are different variations of fastballs.