Wednesday afternoon
AS SOON AS MADAME BERNBAUM SAID “À DEMAIN” TO EVERYONE IN DUMMY French, Olivia skipped English and ducked into the little playground near Chaps. Turtle Park was nothing more than a sandbox filled with cigarette butts and a few giant cement turtles for kids to climb on. A sheet stretched across windows in the project building next door saying, “Drug Pushers, Get Out of Our Neighborhood!” and indeed the two dealers who always used to hang out here were nowhere in sight.
IT WAS NUTS AT SCHOOL—COPS QUESTIONING EVERYONE—AND HER CONVERSATION WITH GRANT YESTERDAY HAD STARTED NAGGING AT HER AGAIN. BUT ONE QUICK CALL WOULD PUT A STOP TO THE WORRYING. LIKE DR. E. SAID: THERE WAS NO REASON TO THINK HE’D HAD A SLIP. OLIVIA BELIEVED GRANT…WELL, SHE BELIEVED HIM NINETY-SEVEN PERCENT. IF ONLY SHE COULD ERASE THE MEMORY OF HIS LAST SLIP.
HOM E FOR THE THANKSGIVING WEEKEND, GRANT HAD GONE TO THE MACY’S PARADE ON CENTRAL PARK WEST WITH SOME OLD FRIENDS FROM CHAP S. SHE AND CARLOTTA WERE DOWNSTAIRS IN THE KITCHEN MAKING TURKEY GRAVY. WHEN HE CAME BACK, HE WAS COKED UP. RIGHTAWAY, HE started in about Tut fucking up his life, how if it weren’t for Tut, he’d be at Princeton, not in rehab.
When Olivia said, “Hell-o, Grant? You were dealing drugs—in school. Remember?” he slugged her. Carlotta knocked him out cold with a skillet. Gravy flew all over the walls.
“Don’ you never touch Livvy again!” Carlotta had screamed.
Now Olivia dug in the pocket of her duffle coat and found her Parliaments. Then she flipped open her mom’s cell phone. Windward didn’t allow Grant to have one, but last weekend while he was in the city, she’d made him keep hers. “What…so you can check up on me?” Grant had said, adding, “I swear you’re worse than Mom.”
On the inside of her wrist Olivia had printed Windward’s number in marker. Once again she practiced what to say.
A cheerful woman’s voice answered the phone at Windward.
“Hi. This is Carole Werner, Grant’s mother,” Olivia told the cheerful voice. “I know you like us to check in after a weekend pass. I should have called before…”
Olivia listened to the woman say she understood that parents led busy lives.
“Grant left home on Monday, the four-something train.” Olivia’s voice sounded completely fake to her and trembly, but she guessed it must be true what everyone said about her and her mother sounding alike.
“Hold on while I check the sign-in book, Mrs. Werner.”
All she wanted the Windward lady to say was, “Yes, it’s right in the book, Mrs. Werner. Grant was back here by seven.” Then before they hung up, the woman would mention how thrilled the whole staff was with Grant’s progress, how great he was doing.
Olivia’s cigarette was smoked halfway down by the time the lady came back on the line. Her voice had lost some of its cheerfulness. “That was Monday you said? Well, I’m looking at the Monday page, and Grant didn’t sign in until nine-fifteen that night…. Mrs. Werner? Are you there?”
“Sorry. My mistake. Uh…lookit, while I was waiting, I suddenly remembered. Grant picked his sister up at school…. And they went shopping. He took a later train.”
“You’re sure? I don’t need to tell you how import—”
“Absolutely sure. Nine-fifteen is exactly when he should’ve gotten back. Really.” A little kid on one of the cement turtles was staring at her, picking his nose. “I’m so sorry, but I have to get off…another call’s coming in. Thanks.”
Grant had lied. He didn’t leave New York when he said. He had hours in the city to get himself in trouble. He told her he never got to see Tut. Was that a lie too? What if he’d done some coke and got into a fight with Tut…. Olivia ordered herself to stop it. She was projecting. And anyway, it wasn’t for sure that Tut’d been murdered. But here she was, jumping to the worst possible conclusion, just like Dr. E. said. And all that was doing was making her head spin, like when she used to get drunk and have the whirlies. Her cigarette fell out of her hand, and she frantically brushed an ember off her brand-new powder blue duffle coat.
Her brand-new duffle coat that now had a black scorch hole.