The Red Hunter(62)

? ? ?

MY MOTHER WASN’T SUPPOSED TO be there that night. Her high school friend was getting married in Key West. She wanted to go, and she wanted Dad to go with her, their first long weekend away together in years. But he couldn’t—or wouldn’t—go with her. Because, as I saw it, he could never do any of the things that she wanted or needed him to do, even the little things. All he cared about was the job and disciplining me so that I didn’t grow up into a “spoiled, pampered princess.” Paul even said he’d stay the weekend so that they could go. But no.

“Go,” my dad told her. “Have fun. I can’t get away right now.”

“You can’t get away for a weekend?” I could tell she was upset, even though her demeanor was calm. She did this tapping thing with her foot.

“I have responsibilities, an open case.”

“The case of the missing yard tools?” A rare moment of sarcasm.

“Hey, people breaking and entering, stealing private property is not a joke.”

“Fine,” she said. “I’ll go alone, then.”

Neither of us thought she would really go. But she bought her ticket. She offered to take me, too. But I made some excuse. My shrink always wondered about this, why I didn’t want to go, why I’d prefer to stay home with my father than spend a sunny weekend in Florida. I hated having to choose between them, but there was a big part of me that feared my father’s disapproval more than mom’s disappointment.

I walked her out to her car that night, my dad stayed sulking in front of the television. She kissed me on the forehead.

“Take care of your dad.”

It sounded weirdly final, and I felt a shiver of dread and regret. I should have said yes; I should have gone with her. Another part of the reason I didn’t want to go was because of Seth. I wanted to meet him that night at the bridge.

“Don’t go,” I said. I held on to her.

“I have to.”

“It’s just a wedding.”

She smiled at me, ran a gentle hand down the side of my head. Other than the minor dustups in moments of stress, I don’t remember her ever getting truly angry with me my whole life.

“You’ll understand when you get older. Sometimes you have to do things—just to do them. Just because if you don’t, you’re saying who you are. And you don’t want to be that person. I don’t want to be the person who never goes anywhere or does anything. There’s a big world out there.” She looked around, her pale eyes sad. “It’s not just this little place.”

I had no idea what she was talking about, not really.

“He’s mad.”

“Let him be mad,” she said. “Just do your own thing. That’s what I’m going to do. For once.”

But a few hours later, after we’d eaten in silence the dinner that she’d left for us, she came back. Her flight had been canceled, bad storms in Florida. The next flight wasn’t until tomorrow, and even if she took it, she’d miss the wedding. She looked smaller, deflated somehow, as my dad helped her off with her coat.

“I’m sorry, Heather,” he said.

He took her into a rare hug, and I watched her sink into him. He meant it. He was sorry—that he didn’t go with her, that her flight had been canceled, that she’d miss her friend’s wedding. And more—there was so much more to the whole thing. I get that now.

“I know you are,” she said.

They stayed that way, kind of holding each other, swaying, for a long time. I left them to whatever grown-up thing they had going on. All I remember thinking was that I was glad I didn’t have to spend the next few days alone with my dad.

Boz came back to that again and again. Turns out that Mom’s flight wasn’t canceled at all. Security cameras caught her entering the lot and taking her long-term parking ticket. A couple of hours later, she exited. She never went into the terminal.

She must have just sat in the car all that time, then, for whatever reason, finally decided to come home. Why? Why didn’t she just go?

For a while, suspicion turned to her. Had she met someone there? Had she hatched some plan, then changed her mind? Had it all gone wrong somehow? Crazy. My mom—she was the best person. Kind, thoughtful, faithful, loving. She never even got a parking ticket, freaked out if she found an overdue library book in my room. There just aren’t too many people like her in the world.

? ? ?

I WANTED TO LAY EYES on Rhett Beckham. But as I left Seth’s, I got a text from Mike.

He’s awake and asking for you. Come to the hospital.

And those goddamn cats, Tiger and Milo, they were weighing on my mind. Milo was just a kitten; he needed attention.

I drove by my old house. I couldn’t see it from the road, but I could just make out its shape through the trees, the golden lights of the windows. Then I veered off that road and took the one that led to the Beckhams’. Their house was not visible at all. The mailbox at the bottom of the drive was tilted; I noticed a tire track up its side, as if it had been run over and then hastily righted again. It wasn’t like Josh Beckham to leave something like that unattended. He must have been unsettled by Rhett’s return. I sat a minute, waiting for I don’t know what.

Then I gunned the engine and headed back to the city.