Slip of the Tongue
1140 Words
Diana’s mind was still racing hours later. She had sat on the window seat and watched the sun inch its way across the sky little by little all afternoon, the vaguest hint of a plan whirling behind her eyes.
It was obvious to her that something had happened. Joshua was the same, but also, intangibly, he was different. It was equally obvious that he was not going to tell her what was going on. At least not until Maxwell, whoever he was, gave him permission. But she didn’t want to wait around for that. She didn’t know who Maxwell was, she didn’t know what power he had over the Westerlys that they spoke his name with a soft reverence, but she definitely knew that she did not want to be under his control.
She wanted information.
She wanted freedom.
She knew better than to think that she could leave the Westerly manor undetected. In high school, it had been easier. Though the mansion’s sweeping lawns had always been surrounded by tall brick and wrought iron fencing, there had been a tree that grew just at the southern edge of the property, some boughs of which hung low over the fence. For years, Joshua and Diana had used it to sneak in and out of the home at all hours of the night and day. It was how they had gotten out to go to their first party, where Joshua had drunk two beers and tried to kiss Sarah Malin, and Diana had gotten into a fight with Sarah’s boyfriend Chuck over it.
They had carved their initials into the tree together once, when they were sixteen. They were not yet dating, but Diana had felt the little flutterings of infatuation when he looked at her. She used to love tracing their initials in the wood with one finger, like a repeated prayer, bringing them together.
The tree had been knocked over during a hurricane when Joshua and Diana were in college, taking a large part of the fence with it. The Westerlys had taken the opportunity to improve the fence around the premises, so that it had motion sensors. Diana knew she couldn’t get through the fence now. She’d always missed that tree just a little, but never as much as she did while she stared out into the horizon, dreaming of escape.
She would never have guessed she would want to escape this place.
The sun was barely a whisper on the horizon, the sky melting into blues and purples, when another knock echoed through the room. However, unlike before, whoever it was did not wait for her clearance before the door creaked loudly open.
“The Westerlys have sent up dinner,” the voice was James’s.
“It’s considered polite to wait for a reply before knocking,” Diana pointed out, without bothering to look over at the man she had once considered a friend.
“Sorry,” he said. “I guess I wasn’t thinking.”
Diana snorted derisively.
“It’s steak,” James said. He seemed determined to talk to her, no matter what she wanted. And, she had to admit, the smell wafting over from the other side of the room was tempting. She felt her stomach growl, and in spite of herself, she turned to face James.
He’d brought up a whole tray, and he lifted it gently with a hopeful smile on his lips. Diana sighed and gestured to him to bring it to her.
“Listen, Diana,” he started. She couldn’t contain the groan that arose from her lips. She didn’t want to hear it.
“I know,” he said. “I know, but just… give me one minute, okay?”
“Are you holding my dinner hostage until I do?” she asked, grumbling.
“I… yes, I am.”
“Then hurry up,” Diana snapped.
“Diana, I’m sorry. I’ll just say that. I’m really sorry. I should have checked in on you more. But there are things… I can’t say much. Just know it is more than you think it is.”
“The vagueness kind of ruins the apology,” she said.
“Yeah,” to her mild surprise, he agreed. “I know it does. You probably won’t believe this, either, but Joshua never wanted to abandon you. You’ll… I…” he glanced over his shoulder at the door. “I can’t say anything else. I just want you to know that I am sorry. That I understand why you’re upset. And that even if you don’t believe me now, or ever, Joshua and I did really care about you.”
Diana just shook her head. “Sure, James.”
James made a face like he wanted to say more, but he didn’t. Instead, he just gently placed the tray on the cushion in front of her.
As he backed away, a thought occurred to Diana. “You knew?” she asked him, following his movements with her gaze.
“Knew what?”
“That he was alive?”
James looked uncomfortable. “Yes,” he finally said.
“Is that why you stopped talking to me?”
“Yes,” James repeated. “Sort of. It’s related.”
“Did you feel bad about it?”
James hesitated. Before he could reply, Diana interjected. “That shouldn’t be hard to answer,” she pointed out glumly.
“I did,” he said, this time immediately. “I did feel bad. But I also didn’t.”
“Did he ever talk about me?” Diana asked. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer.
But before she could regret it, immediately, James answered. “Yeah. He did.”
Diana nodded. “Okay.” It was enough for that moment. James seemed to understand that the conversation was over, and he walked back toward the door. He didn’t open it, though.
“Diana,” he said. “It’s good to see you.”
“I wish I could say the same.”
“I really do think you’ll understand,” James said. “Once you hear what happened. Once you see the rest of the–” he cut himself off.
“See what?” Diana asked, her head jerking up with interest to stare at James again. “See what, James? What is it?”
“Nothing,” he said. “Nothing, I didn’t mean– I just meant, you know, once it is explained.”
But he hadn’t. She could tell by the way he avoided her eyes.
Without another word, he left.
Diana smiled to herself as she turned to tuck into the steak he had left behind for her. There was something she needed to see.
And if it was in the Westerly house, she was going to find it.
- Writer
