Read Red House Blues for Free Online

or later,” said Suzan. “It’s just that I thought I
had more time to get used to the idea, start to move on. How I hate
that phrase and here I am using it.”
    “ The timing could be
better, that’s for sure.”
    “It’s as if he won’t leave me in peace. The
bastard walked out and never looked back. What did he want me to
do, run after him begging? I should have turned over every rock
looking for him?”
    “You did the best you could,” said
Claire.
    “That’s not what Tony thinks and you know
it. He thinks I should have tried harder to find him. What the hell
was I supposed to do, run to the police every week asking for news
like Tony did? If Sean had wanted to come back he would have.”
    “I don’t have any answers, Suzan. How would
I know? Maybe if . . . this thing hadn’t happened to him he would
have come back. ”
    “You don’t believe that any more than I
do.”
    “So, do you want me to put these boxes away
for you?”
    “No. I might as well get it over with and
open them. I couldn’t stand having them in the closet like a
monster waiting to leap out. After we go through them I can throw
all of it in the garbage and be done with it.”
    “Okay, if you’re sure. You got any scissors
I could use for the tape?”
    “In the kitchen somewhere. I think in the
drawer to the left of the sink. Could you bring me a kitchen chair
too, Claire, my knees are still kind of wobbly.”
    “Got a better idea. Let’s do this by the
couch. I’ll drag the boxes and you can put your feet up.”
    Suzan shrugged out from
under her damp coat and lowered herself to the couch. Her hand was
starting to throb. Maybe I should have
asked her to bring me a glass of water. Need more Vicodin. Lots and
lots more. She closed her eyes, squeezing
them shut until her lashes ached. In the next room Claire was
slamming drawers and cabinet doors. If she
can’t find the scissors we can forget the whole thing.
    “This was the only thing I found,” said
Claire, returning to the living room. “Sorry. I did wash it off
first.”
    Suzan opened her eyes. Claire was
brandishing the boning knife that had sliced through her hand.
    “Very funny.”
    “Which do you want to open first?”
    “The guitar, I think. What could be in the
other box but his clothes? And who’d ship that kind of thing
anyway?” She shuddered. It gave her the creeps to think of sorting
through Sean’s old clothes.
    “Maybe somebody thought you’d like them for
keepsakes. Who knows?”
    She ignored the unspoken criticism.
    “Yeah, who knows? People get a lot of weird
notions,” she said.
    Such as that I would care what’s in these
boxes from a period of Sean’s life he didn’t care to share with me.
Even this infernal guitar was more a part of him than I was. Not a
thing here has anything to do with me.
    Claire opened the long box and pulled out
the guitar case, setting it beside the couch, then turned her
attention to the other box.
    How Sean had loved that guitar, thought
Suzan. He bought it from a guy stationed on Whidbey Island who had
bought it from a friend on the coast. Against all her arguments he
scraped together every bit of money they had set aside and bought
it. Supposedly it had once belonged to Kurt Cobain when he lived in
Aberdeen. Probably nothing but a lie to jack the price up, but Sean
believed it. There had been times Suzan wanted to smash the thing
into kindling. She wanted to smash it now, throw it back into the
FedEx box, take it to the back yard and burn it. She crouched
before it, where it rested in its case next to Sean’s brown
chair.
    Claire sawed away at the strapping tape.
With a pop the last strip of tape parted and the box was open, a
neatly folded plaid shirt the first item on top.
    “You were right. Just clothes.” said Claire
as she rummaged through the contents of the box.
    “Claire, did you know it has a name?” said
Suzan, opening the case.
    “What, the shirt?”
    “No, the guitar. Sean called it