My Sweet Annie

32

ME: I just got out of the police station. They wanted my statement. A statement like an actual police statement omg ana

ANA: Ive been so worried when you didn't text back

ANA: Girl you need a glass of wine and a long sleep. I'm so sorry. This is heartbreaking.

ANA: Come stay at my place tonight. You don't want to be out on that acreage alone

ME: Thank you so much, but I have to feed Porkie and I can't leave her alone either

The dog usually tailed me all around, even up and down the stairs that were so hard for her to navigate. To make her stay all night all by herself would be cruel. I hadn't even fed her dinner yet.

ANA: not even for one night?

ANA: I would offer you to bring her here but that would be utter chaos

ME: Your four cats would eat her alive, hahahaha

ME: I'll be okay

ANA: Okay then, I'll come to you

ME: You don't have to do that Ana

ANA: Are you okay to be alone?

I hesitated, trying to think of a reply that would save her from what the increasing burden of friendship with me but also be true. I typed and deleted a couple of things, but before I could settle on something, she replied again.

ANA: I'm on my way.

The entire way home, I felt awful for demanding so much of Ana's time. Then I felt even more awful for thinking about strain on a friendship when poor Mark was dead. The police still hadn't told me anything about his family, but I imagined a wife, two or three kids, a family dog, all grieving their loss.

When I pulled up to the house, Mark's truck was no longer in the driveway. I parked, glad that Gran had a street light at the corner where her driveway met the gravel road. I got out of the car and went up to the house. I could hear Porkie barking from inside.

"I'm coming," I called, fumbling with my keys. When I got the door open, I couldn't flick the lights on fast enough.

The dining room was undisturbed, my iPad and the box I had been going through earlier in the day still on the table. The other boxes from Gran's closet were neatly stacked against the wall.

I knelt to give Porkie some attention, rubbing her ears for her. "Good girl. You kept everything in order while I was gone, didn't you?"

As I stood up, I noticed a mess in the middle of the dining room floor. It was gross, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't glad I had an excuse not to let Porkie out right away. The yard was just as unsettling as the house itself now.

"Did you have an accident? That's okay, Porker. They kept me there for ages. Are you hungry?"

She was. She bounced excitedly on her feet and started galloping toward the kitchen as soon as I straightened again. I followed her, but as I passed the two doors on my right—Gran's bedroom and the bathroom—I skipped a step.

The door to Gran's room stood ajar.

I can't do this, I thought.

I knew I had locked the front door, and I kept the back door locked, and I knew, I knew that Gran's bedroom door had been closed earlier in the day. I had kept it closed almost constantly since my arrival.

Porkie waddled back toward me, as if checking into the reason for my delay. I swung Gran's bedroom door shut again, then forced myself to move into the kitchen.