The Inmate (40)

“He… he was?”

Tim’s face is so close to mine, I can make out all his features in the dark. But I can’t see the freckles that are usually slightly visible when I’m close to him. “But there wasn’t a knife next to him. I couldn’t find one, anyway.”

“Oh…”

Tim jerks his head at the kitchen counter. “I got worried that whoever it was would come back, so I went to get a knife from the kitchen. And guess what? All the knives are gone.”

I stare at him. “What?”

“Right? Pretty weird. There’s a knife block on the counter and it’s empty.”

I shiver and hug myself. “So what does that mean?”

“I’d say it means that whoever did this planned it in advance and got rid of all the other weapons in the house.”

“Tim.” I feel like I’m choking. “What are you saying?”

“I think you know exactly what I’m saying, Brooke.”





Chapter 26


PRESENT DAY




It’s a month into the school year, and Tim Reese has become a frequent visitor to our house.

After he fixed the sink and the doorknob, he and Josh embarked on a seemingly endless list of projects to tackle in the house. After all, the house is kind of old, so there was a lot that needed fixing. And after they got done fixing everything, they got the idea to build a bookcase for Josh’s room. This weekend, they’re going to be painting it. (Neon green, apparently.)

Although I was anxious about moving here, my reservations have all melted away. Working at the prison has its ups and downs (I haven’t seen Shane once in the last month, but he is still very much there), but I have never seen Josh happier than he’s been out here. He loves school, and more importantly, he’s bonded with Tim in a way that has really surprised me.

When I get home tonight, I smell the delicious aroma of garlic and butter. I’m pretty sure those are Margie’s two favorite ingredients in the whole world. And there is no nicer smell to come home to.

I find Margie in the kitchen, arranging a tray of garlic butter shrimp. I want to just inhale them, they look so good.

“I made extra,” Margie tells me, “since I assume that nice Tim will come for dinner.”

I start to protest, but then I realize Tim has come over for dinner at least half a dozen times in the last two weeks. And he’s had us over to his house three times.

“Yes, he said he was probably coming,” I mumble.

Margie laughs. “You don’t have to be embarrassed about having a boyfriend, Brooke.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” Margie gives me a look and I shake my head. “He’s not. We’re just friends.”

It’s the truth. Tim has hung out here a lot in the last month, but nothing has happened between the two of us. He hasn’t tried to kiss me. When we watched a movie a few days ago, he didn’t yawn and attempt to put his arm around my shoulder. We are friends—like always. His realization that Shane and I have a kid together has vanquished any feelings he had for me.

“I should warn you then,” Margie says, “Josh is asking some very interesting questions about him.”

Oh no. What does that mean?

After Margie has taken off for the night, I go into the living room, where Josh is playing with his Nintendo. He is entirely focused on the game, his tongue sticking out slightly as he concentrates. His expression is strangely familiar, and it takes me a second to realize with a jolt that Shane used to make that same exact face when he was concentrating on something.

“Hey, Josh.” I sit down next to him on the couch. “How was school today?”

He doesn’t take his eyes off the game. “Okay. Is Tim coming for dinner?” At school, Josh has to call him Mr. Reese, which makes him giggle, but at home, he’s just Tim.

“Josh…” I slide a few inches closer to him. “Margie told me you were asking some questions about Tim.”

Josh pauses his game and throws the controller to the side. I don’t know what he’s thinking. He probably thinks Tim is my boyfriend, just like Margie does. I’m going to have to set him straight. I’m not sure if the truth will disappoint him or if he’ll be relieved.

“Well,” he says, “I was wondering…”

“Yes?”

He takes a deep breath. “Is Tim my dad?”

I feel like I just got punched in the gut. I had no idea whatsoever that he had been thinking that. “Josh…”

“Because you knew him from before you moved away,” Josh points out. “And you were really close. And also, he’s really nice…”

He’s looking up at me with a hopeful expression on his face. I wish more than anything in the world I could tell him that Tim is his father. I wish Tim were his father. Or that his father were a decent human being who there was some chance in hell I could possibly end up with… or at least allow my son to spend a few minutes in his company.

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” I say. “Tim isn’t your dad.”

Josh looks crushed. He looks so sad that a tiny part of me wishes I had just lied about it and dealt with the consequences later. But of course, I couldn’t do that. I had to tell him the truth.