A Family Affair(14)

“You know this how?” she asked.

“Been there,” he said. And before he could say any more, the waitress returned with their drinks and waited for him to order. He asked for a small plate of loaded nachos, four soft tacos and a Mexican pizza.

She assumed he must be starving and didn’t expect her to help him much.

“Do you want to tell me about your father?”

She didn’t hesitate. “He was wonderful. He was a counselor, a psychologist. He helped so many people. And he was a devoted family man. I have a brother and a sister and he was completely there for us all the time. Something was going on with him lately. He was restless and searching, as if he hadn’t done what he wanted with his life. That’s what the white-water rafting was about—adding some adventure to his life.”

“How did your mom take that?”

“She was mad at him for not being satisfied with all they had managed to achieve. She called him an ungrateful man-child. They were going to marriage counseling, and rather than being worried about him, my mother was pissed.”

“But you were worried?” he asked.

“I was a little bit pissed, too,” she admitted. “He wasn’t himself lately.”

“People get off-kilter sometimes,” Patrick said. “Although I’m sure you were greatly affected by his mood, I’m also pretty sure it had nothing to do with you.”

“That’s what he said,” she muttered.

“His death was an accident, I assume?”

“Sort of,” she said. “He got in trouble in the kayak, flipped over and, in the struggle, had a fatal heart attack. They tried to revive him, but...” She sipped her wine. “It should not have happened. He was in great shape. He worked out. He had regular checkups. He never had problems with his health. I watched him for symptoms of—His health never concerned me. He was only sixty-two. It made no sense!”

“He hadn’t been rafting before? Or steep climbing or running or similar strenuous exercise?”

She shook her head. “He went to the gym,” she said. “He had a bike he rarely rode. He played golf and some tennis, but it was recreational stuff, not endurance stuff.”

“But that rafting trip...?”

“Was extreme,” she said. “He joined a group that was going down one of the most dangerous rivers in the country. I don’t know what he was thinking. He wasn’t trained for that, he wasn’t prepared. I’ve since learned that it’s not uncommon for people, men especially, to sign up for a risky and thrilling adventure or sport in a psychological quest to prove their youth isn’t slipping away.”

“Jessie, there’s a very good chance you’re never going to know what he was thinking,” Patrick said. “Tell me what it was like growing up with him.”

She described their first house, the one she remembered from her earliest days before Bess came along. It was like a dollhouse and her parents walked with her to preschool and then kindergarten and first grade. Her mother was very busy back then, when she was small. Anna was working and in school, while her father filled in with the kids, helping with homework and such. What she remembered best about those years was that Mommy was always too busy and Chad seemed to be able to find plenty of extra time. And once Mommy wasn’t too busy, along came Bess and, soon after, the district attorney’s office.

“Your mother was very successful, I take it,” Patrick said.

Their food was delivered and they began to feed off the three large plates, while talking.

“She is very successful, but not in a showy way. I mean, she’s not in politics in the city or among the society rich. In fact, not rich, that I know of. But after several years in the DA’s office she went to a private firm that specializes in criminal cases because she is first and foremost a litigator.

“She likes being in the courtroom,” Jessie said. “She often said the only person who could out-argue her was my father. That’s probably because he was a psychologist and could read people. Fast.”

“A power couple,” he said.

“Yes,” she said in a breath. “Yes, I guess they were.”

“The only problem with being half a power couple is not knowing which half you are. The top half or the bottom half.”

She thought about that for a moment. She wasn’t sure who had the power in her family. Her mother was the one to fear; she didn’t take any shit and she smelled a lie a mile away. But her father, Dr. McNichol, was the one people fussed over. He was active in city politics, charities, community affairs, that sort of thing.

“Do you have siblings?” she asked.

“I had a brother,” he said. “He was killed in an accident when he was twenty-two, hit when he was changing a tire. It screwed up my parents and probably me, but I was in medical school and couldn’t indulge even grief because of how consuming medical school is. I vowed never to be that kind of administrator, the kind who knows nothing about my staff and abuses them that way. I hope I’ve kept my vow.”

“I think you have a good reputation,” she said. “I mean, I hear only good things.”

He laughed, maybe slightly embarrassed by the compliment. “I love hearing about your family. They sound so breathtakingly normal. My father left me on the little merry-go-round in front of the grocery store when I was four. He went home. I had begged and begged and begged to ride the pony. He was trying to remember everything he promised to get, gave me some quarters and forgot me. By the time he got back to the store, the police had been called. These days he’d have been locked up or Child Protective Services would have been called. Back then, they told him to pay closer attention and gave me to him.”