THAT SAME DAY
Connie and I were drinking hot cups of coffee; Chris had a large glass of Diet Coke, which he had barely touched. Both looked tired and seemed to be battling mixed emotions over my revelation a few days earlier. “I’m sorry I dropped it on you the way I did,” I said. “I just didn’t want to have to go over it more than once. Figured it was best to get everyone who needed to hear it in one place.”
Connie reached out and gripped both my hands, holding them tightly in hers, fingers wrapped around mine. “I know it wasn’t easy for you, Tank,” she said.
“Did hearing it scare you?” I asked. “All the details, I mean.”
Connie took a deep breath before answering. “You were just a boy when it happened,” she said. “And you reacted out of fear and concern for Jack. So hearing that didn’t scare me.”
“What did?” I asked.
“Watching you beat that man who came into the restaurant,” she said. “That was a part of you I’ve never seen before. And that’s what scared me.”
“It’s a part of me, Connie,” I said. “It was there in Maine and it was there the other day. And if you or Chris or Pearl or anyone I truly love and care about is put at risk, that part of me will surface again. There’s nothing I can do to change it.”
“I know,” Connie said. “I’m not asking you to change it, Tank. Because I know you can’t. I just need time to have it sink in. I’m sure my father has that same dark side. But knowing it and seeing it are two very different things.”
I squeezed her hand. “Take all the time you need,” I said.
“Did you and my dad ever talk about it?” Chris asked. “I mean after that day?”
“It wasn’t easy. Not for me and not for him. Our parents thought it best if we didn’t discuss it until we were back home. But, even on the drive back, me and Jack knew things between us would never be the same. I had seen Jack at his most vulnerable. He had seen my rage at full throttle. Both those images would be welded in our minds forever.”
“But it wasn’t my dad’s fault,” Chris said, his voice breaking slightly. “And all you did was come to his defense. It would have been much worse for him if you didn’t show up and do what you did.”
“I didn’t have to kill the man, Chris,” I said.
“I understand why my dad didn’t want to talk about what happened,” Chris said. “And I understand why you didn’t want to talk about it, either. But why did you decide not to talk to each other at all?”
“It seemed the best way to put it behind us,” I said. “I know it’s hard for you to understand. I didn’t want Jack to look at me and flash on what could have happened to him that day. And I didn’t want to look at Jack and see the fear and horror in his eyes.”
“Did your parents send you to see someone?” Connie asked. “Someone to talk to, maybe somebody who could help you come to terms with what had happened?”
“Like a therapist, you mean?”
Connie shook her head. “I know how people from here feel about therapists,” she said. “My dad would rather eat his own leg than open up to a stranger sitting across the room from him.”
“Especially a stranger charging him a hundred dollars every forty-five minutes,” I said. “Besides, me and Jack didn’t want to think about it, let alone talk about it.”
“What about your parents?” Chris asked.
“They figured it out on their own,” I said. “Once we got in the car for the drive back to the city, we left it all behind.”
We stayed quiet for a few moments, each of us grappling with what to say next. “Did talking about it help in any way?” Connie finally asked.
“I felt relieved,” I said. “Never figured I would have to face up to it. And I never counted on somebody like Kenwood being the one to bring it to the open. That one knocked the wind out of me.”
I looked at Connie and Chris and then slid out of the booth. I stood in front of them, my left hand resting on the table. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I should have told you. Should have trusted you, the team, Carmine, Pearl. I was scared about…well, about a lot of things. Most of all, I didn’t want to lose anyone I loved. And I was afraid knowing about what I did and how I did it would lead to that. It had already cost me a brother. I didn’t want to lose anyone else.”
I gazed down at the puppy, still curled and asleep, his limbs occasionally twitching. “It was wrong,” I said. “And I should have known better.”
“Go do what you need to do, Tank,” Connie said in a soft voice, her eyes misty with tears. “And know that no matter what, we will always be here. Always.”
I smiled at both of them and turned to leave the restaurant. As I did, I was aware that my past was entangled in the two cases that needed to be closed. Jack’s murder, and the death of a young girl I had never met.
The past never leaves us. It hovers over us, hidden by the passage of time, waiting to strike when we least expect it. It can do damage or ease suffering, its path never truly known until it confronts us.