Chapter 1
So far, it seemed like a normal day.
Zach rode home from school with his mother, just as he normally did.
His mother said what she normally said when the garage door slid up and revealed the black Escalade that was still there. “Looks like your father didn’t go job hunting.”
“Maybe he went, but he got home already. He said he might go out looking today.”
“Honey, he always says that.”
“Maybe he did it online. He said that’s better, anyway. Saves gas.”
His mother didn’t answer as she steered her Honda into the open space next to the big SUV. She switched off the ignition, turned toward Zach and opened her mouth as if she were going to say something, but closed her eyes instead and sighed.
“Really, Mom. That’s what I would do, if it were me.”
“He needs to meet people face-to-face, Zach, so he can look them in the eyes and shake their hand, not sit at home all day in his bathrobe watching television.”
They left the car and went through the door that led to the kitchen. She set her purse on the counter by the sink and called, “John?”
Zach hung his backpack in its normal spot by the window, a hook his father had installed six years ago when Zach started kindergarten.
“Maybe he’s napping on the couch,” his mother said. “I don’t hear the TV.”
He followed her into the family room, which was quiet and dark. “It’s depressing in here.” She went to the nearest window and twisted the long rod that opened the blinds, and light poured in. “That’s better. Now it doesn’t look like a tomb.” She headed toward the hall and called again, “John?”
“Shhh!” Zach hissed. “You’ll wake him up.”
“He needs to be awake. It’s almost five o’clock and it’s a beautiful spring day. He’s still got time to mow the grass before dinner.” She pushed open their bedroom door. “John? Where are you?”
“Maybe he went for a walk.”
“Not hardly. He might walk to the kitchen for a snack, on a good day.”
“Give him a break, Mom. He’s just been tired lately. That’s all.”
“Tired of lazing around the house, more like.” She knocked on the bathroom door and waited a moment. “Maybe he fell asleep in the tub.” She turned the knob and pushed it open.
Then she screamed.
* * *
Liz steered the car off of Interstate 40 onto the westbound two-lane road and read the odometer. “We should be there in about an hour and a half.” Zach didn’t reply, so she glanced at him, sitting beside her with his earbuds in, staring out of the passenger window. She raised her voice and said, “Zach, did you hear me?”
He twisted his head toward her and gave her a narrow-eyed look, then turned back to the scenery and whatever music he was listening to.
“Honey, talk to me, for gosh sakes. You haven’t said two words since we left Raleigh.”
He faced her again and said, “Word, word, word. Are you happy now?”
“Are you trying to be funny?”
He shrugged, barely, and looked away.
“I don’t think—” She bit her lip, forcing calm into her response. “Are you going to sulk all the way to Whitmer?”
He answered with another small shrug.
“Why are you so mad at me?”
He snatched his earbuds out and spun in his seat to fully face her, his jaw tight. “Why are you making me move away from Raleigh?”
“This again?” She let out an exasperated burst of air. “How many times do I have to tell you? I couldn’t afford that house anymore.” She couldn’t bear the thought of going into that bathroom again, either. It had taken Edie, her best friend, most of an afternoon to scour the blood off the tiles around the tub.
“You could’ve bought another house.”
“Not in that neighborhood and not on my salary. We were already two months behind on our mortgage. We were lucky Mrs. Panos was able to sell it for as much as she did. Otherwise we’d be in big trouble.”
“So? We could’ve moved to another neighborhood.”
“Not in your school district. Everything that was available was way out of our price range, so we would’ve ended up somewhere else and you would’ve had to change schools, anyway. Isn’t that what this all about?”
Again, another barely detectable shrug.
“Zach. Arggh!” She squeezed the steering wheel with both hands and fought to keep her tone level as she spoke. “We’re lucky things turned out as well as they did for us. They could be really bad, you know. I found a decent-paying job, we got rid of most our debts, and we have a place to stay for free.”
“Yeah, an old haunted house.”
“It’s not haunted! It’s just that nobody’s lived there for about a year. It’s fine.”
“Bet it’s got spiders and snakes and rats in it.”
“No. It doesn’t.” She measured every word carefully as she said them. “Your grandfather has been looking after it, and he said it’s livable. It’s still got furniture in it, though I don’t how much of it we’ll keep. It belonged to my great uncle, and Aunt Winnie put some of her things in it, too, so it’s probably not my style.”
“So what do we do with our stuff? I like our furniture.”
“We’ll see what’s already there and pick what we want to keep and give the rest to charity or sell it. It’s a big house. There’s plenty of room for everything, according to my Dad. We can store some things in the garage if necessary.”
“What about cable TV and Internet and stuff?”
“I think Aunt Winnie had the house wired for cable, though it won’t be turned on, yet. Neither will the phone. Just electricity and water.”
“How long?”
“Before it’s turned on? A few days, maybe.”
“A few days? What am I supposed to do?”
“You can watch TV at your grandfather’s. It’s only two houses down from ours. Or you can read, or maybe meet some of the neighborhood kids.”
“There aren’t any kids in that neighborhood. It’s nothing but old people.”
“You haven’t been there since you were seven, honey. Somebody’s probably moved in by now.”
“You mean somebody old. Old people, old houses, old everything.”
She glanced at him again and couldn’t help feeling sorry for him when she saw the dejected look on his face. She knew this move was hard on him. Not only did he lose his father, he was losing his friends and everything he was familiar with. “Don’t you want to hear a little more about my job? We haven’t talked about it that much.” He didn’t answer, so she continued anyway, “I’ll be working in the attendance office. That’ll be something new for me. I’m excited about it.”
“I thought you were supposed to be an English teacher.”
“They didn’t have any openings, but they did in the front office. I told you that already.”
“It’s my school?”
“Yes.”
“I thought you were working at the high school.”
“They don’t have a separate middle school. Well, they did, but they combined it with the high school when they built the new one.”
“I gotta go to school with high school kids? Mom, they’ll kill me. I’m only gonna be in seventh grade!”
“You’ll be fine.”
He turned toward his window again. She wanted to put her arms around him and tell him everything was going to be all right. They were going to make it. Two months earlier, she wasn’t so sure. “I won’t have time to get the kitchen organized and grocery shop today, so why don’t we get pizza tonight?”
“They have pizza in Whitmer? Wow.” His tone was sarcastic. “They’ve joined the modern age.”
“It’s not as small as you think. It’s not like Raleigh, but it’s got some nice things about it. You’ll see. I ought to know, I grew up there.”
“But I don’t want to grow up there!”
“Zach….” She reached for his hand but he it pulled away and pressed closer to the passenger door. “I’m sorry things worked out like this, but that’s just the way it is and we have to make the best of it. You’ll meet new friends and I’ll be able to support us with this job. Really, we could be doing a lot worse, all things considered.”
She had to focus fully on the road when it began to curve ahead of them, but out of the corner of her eye she could see his gaze fall to his lap. She knew he wouldn’t cry in front of her, but she was sure that he wanted to. “Honey, I told you, it’s not your fault,” she said gently. “It not yours or mine or anybody else’s. Maybe I should’ve seen it coming, with your father and all, but I don’t know what else I could’ve done.”
He put his earbuds back in to show that he was through talking, and she concentrated on the highway again and began counting down the miles to their new life.
* * *
She nudged her son awake when they neared the road sign that said Welcome to Whitmer, the jewel of Western North Carolina, pop. 12,270. “We’re here, Zach. Look.”
He pulled his earbuds out and stared at the billboard as they went by. “Twelve thousand? That’s tiny.”
“There are probably fewer than that, now. This town has been shrinking for years.”
“Oh, great.”
They passed an old industrial building, a hulking red brick structure by the river that appeared to be abandoned, with broken or boarded-up windows and weed-covered, empty grounds. A chain link fence surrounded it, and at the gate was a sign: Keep Out. “What’s that place?” Zach said.
“The old mill. Your grandfather used to work there, years ago, before he opened his repair shop.”
“It’s closed?”
“Long time ago. A company from up North was supposedly buying the property to build an auto parts factory, but they backed out at the last minute. That was after Whitmer started building the new school, in anticipation of all these people who were going to move here, but it didn’t work out. That’s why they combined the middle school with the high school. Even still, it’s barely half full.”
“The school’s brand new? Well, at least everything isn’t old.”
Just past the factory, they slowed to a stop at an intersection. Zach pointed up and smiled cynically. “Hey, a traffic light! They have those here?”
“Of course.”
“How many, do suppose? Two?”
“No! They have a few…I mean, several.” She felt herself grow flustered. “They have enough.” Then she said quietly, almost at a whisper, “They have enough.” She sighed and looked out of her window while she waited for the light to change. Whitmer. I can’t believe I’m back. I hope you have enough of what we need. I’m not asking for a lot. Just…enough. That’s all.
Zach felt his mood darken further when they turned onto Davenport Street and drove past the ancient-looking houses that lined both sides of the road. Victorian, he remembered. That’s what Mom said they were. Each one was a brooding, two-or-three-story monstrosity, deep porches out front with heavy columns that supported their roofs, and scrolled bannisters in need of paint. Enormous trees brooded over the yards like sullen giants. He half-expected to hear creepy harpsicord music and see green-skinned people stumbling around with their arms extended like zombies, cobwebs trailing after them like shrouds. “Mom, are all the houses here this old?” he said to his window.
“No. This is the one of the older neighborhoods. This is where the rich folks used to live.”
“Where do they live now?”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure if there are any rich neighborhoods anymore.”
“Why do all of these have front porches?”
“Many of them were built before most people had air conditioning. They’d sit out there in the late afternoon and early evening to escape the summer heat, and to visit with their neighbors.”
“Does our house have AC? Don’t tell me it doesn’t. I won’t live there. It’s hot already.”
“Yes, it has AC. Aunt Winnie had a new unit put in, along with a new roof and hot water heater.”
“How long did she live in the house?”
“Ten years, maybe. She’s in a nursing home, now. You met her when you were little, but I doubt you’d remember her.”
“Who’s she related to? I forgot.”
“She’s your grandfather’s older sister. She never married. She was a missionary for most of her life.”
“How come I haven’t been here in so long?”
“Because last time, I came by myself, when my mom got sick. After she died, it made more sense for your grandfather to visit us in Raleigh instead of us coming here, since he’s not equipped to take care of company by himself.”
“He didn’t come see us much.”
“He didn’t like your father.”
“Why?”
“Well, they uh…it’s hard to explain. He just didn’t. Let’s leave it at that. We’re here, anyway.”
His heart sank all the way to the bottom when they pulled into the driveway of their house. It was as big and ugly as the others around it, if not bigger, painted a dull, olive green with flat black trim. Concrete steps led up to the porch, which was nearly hidden behind overgrown shrubs that stood at least eight feet high. Jutting out from a second story corner was a wide cylinder with narrow windows and a conical roof, reminding Zach of a turret on a medieval castle. That’s probably where they kept their prisoners, he thought morosely.
“Well,” his mother said as she turned off the car, “let’s go have a look.”
The front door of the house swung open and an elderly man came out — Grandpa Rick, looking much older than Zach recalled. He was still tall, but he had a noticeable bulge at his waist now. His thick hair was completely gray and his clothes were rumpled, and he limped down the steps to meet them. He hugged Zach’s mother, patting her gently on the back and saying, “Glad you’re back, Liz.” He released her and faced Zach. “You couldn’t be my grandson. You’re too big.”
Zach didn’t say anything. Grandpa extended his arms as if he expected another hug. Zach didn’t offer one.
“Too manly for that?” Grandpa held out his hand. Zach shook it, half-heartedly.
Zach’s mother glanced around the yard and frowned. “Dad, I thought you were going to get this place ready for us.”
“I did, kinda. I mowed the grass, front and back, and opened up all the windows and aired it out and everything.”
“What about these shrubs? They’re ridiculous. They’re blocking the windows. I bet the inside of the house is dark as a cave. And did you dust and vacuum, or clean the kitchen and bathrooms?”
“Uh, not yet.” He scratched the back of his neck and grimaced. “I was getting around to those things. What time does your furniture get here?”
“The truck is about two hours behind us.”
“Oh, good. I called a friend at Goodwill, and they’ll send somebody over for whatever furniture that’s already here that you don’t want. Some of it you can store in the garage, which is around back. It’s separate, if you’ll remember, just like mine.”
“Is any of the furniture worth keeping?” They started up the steps together, Zach trailing them, eyeing his new surroundings dubiously.
Grandpa held the door open for them. “There are some valuable antiques, I believe. They’re probably not your style, though. You may want to sell ’em and use the money to replace the windows. They’re the original ones, and they’re drafty in the winter, no doubt.”
“You know,” Liz said, “I’ve never been inside this house. I was too scared to, when I was a kid.”
“Uncle Nicholas wasn’t exactly the social type. You probably don’t remember him very well, but he spent most of his time in his laboratory downstairs.”
Zach suddenly perked up. “He had a lab?”
“It’s still here, in the basement. Can’t find the key, though. I bet all his old equipment is still in it.”
“We can’t get in?”
“It’s got a steel door to it, and I can’t take it off the hinges, either. We’ll have to get a locksmith if we can’t find the key. Winnie never had it.”
Zach’s mother stepped inside the house and said, “I’d rather not spend the money on a locksmith if we don’t have to. The key will turn up.”
The front entrance of the house had a spacious foyer with doorways on either side of it and a wide staircase at the back. To the left of that was a short hallway. Liz peered about and said, “This would look cheerful with a big potted plant right here and some framed artwork on one wall. And new paint, of course.”
Her father opened the door to their right and led them into the adjoining room. “This is the library.”
Wooden shelves, loaded with books, lined two of the walls, and tall windows were on the other two, with shorter shelves underneath them. The view out front was blocked by shrubs, and Liz made a mental note to remind her father to trim those back as soon as possible.
Zach wrinkled his nose and said, “Stinks in here.”
“It’s mildew,” Liz’s father said. “Nobody’s touched these books in years.”
Liz scanned a few of the titles. “We’ll have to figure out what to do with these. I hate to get rid of books, but I don’t do well with mildew.”
Her father led them back into the foyer and through the opposite doorway. “This is the living room or parlor or whatever you want to call it.”
It was huge, much bigger than she expected, and dark and gloomy, with an old-fashioned couch and matching wing chairs, upholstered in dreary, old-lady fabric. Side tables, coffee tables, and shelves covered with knick-knacks filled the large space. “I pulled all the sheets off this stuff earlier,” her father said.
She eyed the cobweb-covered chandelier that hung at the center of the room. “Dad, you promised me you were going to clean before we got here.”
He cleared his throat. “Well, I haven’t gotten around to it yet.”
She exhaled sharply and looked away for a moment. “Okay, we’ll deal with it. Let’s see the upstairs real quick so we can figure out what to do with that furniture. Remind me how many bedrooms are in this house.”
“Five. Four upstairs, which haven’t been used in years, and a master bedroom on this floor, which is where Winnie slept. You’ll probably want to take that one and let Zach take one of the other ones.”
Zach’s brow fell sharply. “You mean I have to sleep upstairs by myself?”
“You won’t have to, honey,” Liz said quickly. “I’ll take one of those bedrooms, too.” And you can sleep with your light on, she thought, but didn’t say it out loud so as not to embarrass him in front of his grandfather.
Liz walked with them up the stairs, which opened into a long hall. Zach stopped at the first door on the right. “What’s this, Grandpa?”
“Bathroom. There are two up here and one and a half downstairs.”
Zach opened it and flicked on the wall switch as he went inside. “Oh, man, it’s old.”
“But nothing drips, at least.”
Liz peeked in and regarded the antique-looking fixtures. A clawfoot bathtub. A pedestal sink. Woefully out-of-style cabinets.
“Where’s the shower, Grandpa?” Zach said.
“This house doesn’t have one.”
“How am I supposed to wash my hair and rinse off and stuff?”
He pointed near the faucet. “See that little hose with the doodad on the end? You turn the knob right there and hold that thing over your head when you’re ready to do that.”
Zach, looking even more miserable, turned to Liz. She said, “It’s okay, honey. We’ll put in a shower. I budgeted a little for remodeling.” But I didn’t count on having to do that. “Dad, you can do that kind of work, can’t you?”
“Sure can. I just did that for Mrs. Mosley around the corner. Remodeled her whole bathroom. Easy as sneazin’.”
“Can you do it soon?” Zach said. “Like, right away?”
“Zach,” Liz said. “We’ll try to make it a priority, but we’ll have a list of things a mile long that need doing first.” She gave her father a hard look. “Like, cut the shrubs. And paint.”
“Can we get rid of the ugly carpets?” Zach asked.
“Sure,” she said. “Dad, you’ll help with that, won’t you?”
“Of course. There are wooden floors under all of it. Bet they’re in good shape, too, since the carpet’s been protecting it all these years.”
“It’ll look nice when we’re done. We can make this house a real showplace, Zach. It’ll take a lot of work, but it’ll be beautiful.”
Zach’s narrow shoulders slumped, and Grandpa said, “Some folks moved in down the street and have been fixing their place up. Looks better. We can do it, too.” He nodded. “And these houses are built really well. They don’t make them like this anymore. Once we’re done with it, they’ll probably want to put a picture of it on the cover of one of those magazines, like, uh….”
“Southern Living,” Liz said.
“Yeah, that one. This house will be a grand and fancy, like it was when Uncle Nicholas bought it.”
Zach twisted his mouth slowly while he regarded his grandfather. “Can I pick out my bedroom, now?”
They went back to the hall and opened the next door to find a decent-sized bedroom. It had two windows that offered plenty of light, though the curtains were covered with dust. Liz fingered one and frowned. “I’ll need to wash these. I’ll replace them when I have time to make new ones.”
“Why can’t I use my old ones?” Zach said.
“They won’t fit. These windows are bigger.”
The furniture was covered with sheets. Liz pulled the nearest one off to reveal a tall dresser. “This looks nice,” she said.
“I think it’s mahogany,” her father said. “Uncle Nicholas wanted good things for this house, according to my mom. This was probably all stuff he bought a long time ago.”
She peeled off another sheet to reveal a dressing table. She stripped a third one to find a nightstand. “I like all of this. What do you think, Zach? Do you want it?”
“I want my furniture.”
“Oh, well, I guess we can store it in the garage or sell it. How’s the bed?” She started to uncover it, but paused when she spotted a tiny object lying in the middle. “What’s this?” She picked it up and examined it closely.
It looked like an origami swan, smaller than her palm, made of thin strips of leaves. “This is beautiful. Did you make this, Dad?”
“Are you kidding? I don’t do crafts.”
“Then how did it get here? It looks new.”
“I have no idea, unless somebody broke in and put it there. Nobody else has a key but me.”
“Broke in?” Zach’s voice rose and his eyes stretched wide.
“Calm down, son, it’s a safe neighborhood. Nobody’d do that, and if they did, they’d steal something. Maybe somebody snuck in while I was here yesterday, and put it on the bed.”
“But why? That’s creepy!”
Her father rolled his eyes and exhaled heavily. “Wish I hadn’t said that about sneakin’ in.”
“Mom?” Zach turned to her, his face lined with worry.
“It was probably already here, and it’s just a swan.” Liz waved a quick hand to shut off the discussion before Zach got too worked up. “Let’s look at the rest of the house so we can see get an idea of what we can sell and what we can give to Goodwill today.”
They inspected the other bedrooms and Liz picked one on the corner for herself, the second master, which had windows on two sides and offered a view of the neglected backyard, with its overgrown shrubs and the separate, single-car garage on the far side. Then they toured the rest of the house: the sitting room, the dining room, the kitchen, the laundry room, the downstairs bedroom where Aunt Winnie stayed, and the terrace.
They returned to the foyer and Liz checked her watch. “Dad, how long will it take to get your friends over here with their truck?”
“A few minutes.”
“Do you think they’d help us move some of this old furniture into the garage if I pay them?”
“Probably. Do you have any cash?” He patted his pockets. “I’m a little short.”
“Yes, I came prepared. Are you going to help us? We have a lot to do before dinner.”
“Uh, my knee’s been a little extra sore lately. I don’t know how much I can handle.”
“Dad, I really need your help.” He still seemed reluctant, so she added, “I’ll buy you some pizza afterward. Zach and I are going to Antonio’s for dinner.”
“Can I get a beer?”
“Only if you help.”
“Deal.”
She pulled out her cell phone and handed it to him. “Call your buddies and tell them to bring their truck, please.”
* * *
Liz sat back in her chair and waited while the waitress placed their drinks on the table before them — iced tea for Liz, a Coke for Zach, and a Busch Lite draft for her father.
Her father smiled at the waitress and said, “You new here, darlin’? Don’t believe I know you.”
“Yes sir. This is my first week.” She was tall and slim, with a plain but pleasant face and dark hair held back in a long braid.
“You look like you’re probably still in high school. What grade are you in?”
“I’ll be a senior.”
“What’s your name?”
“Julie.”
“Well, Julie. I’m Rick. I’m kind of a regular here.” He gestured at Liz. “This here is your new attendance lady, Mrs. Webster. She’ll take care of you if you’re late to school.” Then he pointed at Zach and introduced him. “He’s going into eighth grade, I think.”
“Seventh,” Zach muttered and shrank in his chair, looking like he wanted to hide behind his Coke.
Julie left with their food order and Liz’s father picked up his beer. Zach watched him take a sip and said, “My dad always drank Heineken.”
“That’s for snobs. I always drink American beer. It’s better, anyway.”
“No. My dad said that imported beer—”
“Zach?” Liz snatched up her purse and pulled out her wallet. “Want to play some video games? I see some in the back.”
He glanced over his shoulder at the three hulking arcade machines on the far wall of the other room. “Those are old. Can I play on your cell phone?”
“The battery’s low. I haven’t charged it since last night. Why don’t you check out those games, instead? You might like them.”
“They’ve got Galaga and Super Mario,” her father said.
“Oh, yay.” Zach waved one finger in a loose circle in the air.
“I won’t make you do it,” Liz said. “You can play, or sit here and listen to us gossip about people you’ve never heard of.”
Zach extended his hand, palm up, and Liz gave him five quarters, while her father dug into his pocket and came up with two more. She said, “That should last until our pizza’s ready.”
Zach took the coins and headed toward the other room. When he was out of earshot her father said, “How’s he doing with all this?”
She hesitated before answering. “Not very well. He’s really depressed about his father, and he’s mad at me for making him move here and leave all his friends behind.”
“He’ll make new ones.” He took another sip of his beer and looked into the glass while he spoke, “He’s young. Kids are more resilient than us old folks.”
“Are there any kids in the neighborhood his age?”
“Not on our street. I think there are some on the street behind us, though. I see this one group of ’em from time to time, couple boys — twins, no less — and a girl. They look like they’re about Zach’s age. I oughta warn you, though. They’re a bunch of wild things.”
“What do you mean? Are they juvenile delinquents?”
“Not exactly. It’s just that I see ’em runnin’ around all day long on their own, seems like. I heard their dad’s in prison, so their mom has to work two jobs, and they have to look after themselves.”
“Prison? Has the neighborhood gone down that far?”
“He’s not like a murderer or bank robber or anything like that. I heard he was growin’ pot out in the forest, and he got caught.”
“Oh, terrific. Just drugs, then.”
“You need to lighten up. It’s just pot. And I don’t think those kids are breaking into houses or stealing. Not that I’ve heard, anyway.” He set his beer on the table and seemed to study it before saying, “How are you handling everything, Liz? You look tired.”
“I am tired. Tired to the bone. It’s been pretty overwhelming, but you know me. Soldier on. Isn’t that what you used to say?”
“Soldier on, yeah. Do what you gotta do. Zach’s lucky to have a strong woman like you for a mother. A lot of other women would’ve folded after what happened.”
“I feel like folding sometimes. I feel like getting in the bed, pulling the covers up over my head and curling into a ball and crying myself to sleep. I’m so…it’s hard to express it. This isn’t where I expected to be at this stage of my life. A single mother, coming back here…oh.” She closed her eyes while she took a deep breath. “That’s not what I wanted.”
“I know. This town doesn’t have much to offer younger people anymore. But at least you came back to visit once in a while. Your brother hasn’t been here in ten years. You realize that? Ten years. I don’t know if he’ll ever come back.”
“I still can’t believe he didn’t come to Mom’s funeral.”
“Yeah, well, he had an excuse, you know. Out of the country on business and all that.” He tightened one corner of his mouth and shook his head once.
Liz nodded and stared blankly at the table top for a moment, then she said, “But mostly I feel angry. I’m angry at John, and angry at myself for not seeing this coming, and just angry at life in general.”
“You had no idea he was going to do that? Did you even know he had a gun?”
“No. He must’ve gotten it just before….” She cleared her throat. “He was really down toward the end, obviously. Mostly about not being able to get a job. He’d been unemployed for a year. Almost exactly a year, to the day.”
“He could’ve gotten a job if he’d lowered his standards. Just because he couldn’t get work designing huge office buildings doesn’t mean he couldn’t have done smaller-scale stuff. I bet there’s still a demand for architects in Raleigh.”
“John was just too proud.”
“John was a jerk.”
“Well…he was, sometimes. He didn’t used to be.”
“He was always a jerk. I never liked him.”
She leaned toward her father and put both hands flat on the table. “I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t badmouth him in front of Zach, like that comment about the Heineken. It’s okay if you do it around me, but not him. All right?”
“I’ll try. Can’t make any promises, though.” Her father glanced toward Zach, who was sitting on a padded stool in front of one of the video machines. “You said he’s depressed about his dad?”
“I think he’s blaming himself.”
“What the hell for? Wasn’t his fault his father was a head case.”
“Zach thinks John was disappointed in him.”
“Why? Nothing’s wrong with Zach, near as I can tell.”
Liz rubbed her eyes with the fingertips of one hand, suddenly feeling drained. “You know Zach has never been good at sports, and that drove John crazy, because he was such a good athlete. He expected Zach to be the same, and he just isn’t.”
“He’s young. He’s scrawny, but he’ll grow. I was scrawny, too, when I was his age. My brother used to beat the tar out of me every chance he got.”
“It was more than just sports that was a problem. Zach wasn’t part of the popular crowd in school, and he’s a mediocre student, too. He was in some advanced classes, but he didn’t exactly shine in them.”
“That doesn’t make sense. You always did great in school.”
“I don’t know what the problem is. He’s not dumb, he’s just not motivated. I think that’s what bothered John the most, because he was always a go-getter about everything. He expected Zach to be his little clone, and he’s not, and John wasn’t good at hiding his disappointment.”
“That’s ’cause he was a jerk. A father should love his child for what they are, not what they want them to be.”
Liz had no answer for that. She gazed at her iced tea and watched as a drop of condensation ran down the side of the glass and disappeared into the napkin below. “So how about you? How have you been doing lately?”
“Aw, you know me. Still getting by. Still working at sixty-eight years old.” He blew out a long gust of air through a narrow gap between his lips. “Lordamighty, I should be retired by now, but I’m not the only one. I got friends in the same boat, so I should quit whining.” He smiled wryly. “Soldier on.”
“You said you’re a regular here. Are you not cooking? I thought Mom taught you how before she died.”
“She did, and I cook some. You know she taught me how to grocery shop and do the laundry and all. Never did those before.” He picked up his beer again and a brief, poignant look passed over his face.
“How about cleaning? I haven’t been inside your house since we got here. I dread that. Is it a mess? Do you leave dirty dishes lying around like you used to? Mom’s not here to pick up after you anymore, and I’m not doing it for you.”
“I clean some. It’s, uh, it’s okay. I wouldn’t invite the Queen over for tea or anything, but it’s passable.”
“Is it decent enough for Zach to come over and watch TV after we eat? I need to run to the store, and he hates shopping with me. You don’t mind, do you? He’ll be too scared to stay at our house by himself.”
“It’s okay if he comes. My house is clean enough.”
“Thanks. And Dad?” She gave him a penetrating look. “No badmouthing John, all right?”
“You told me that already.”
“I know, but it’s important. Zach might resent it if you do. We’re all the family he has now, and we need to get along. Please? For my sake? And his, too?”
He returned her look with a steady one of his own. “I’ll do my best, Liz. That’s all I can promise.”
“Good. I see our waitress coming with our pizza, so I’ll go get Zach and we can eat. We’ll all feel better, then.”
* * *
Zach jerked upright in his bed after he heard another ominous creak out in the hall. His heart began to race as he stared at the darkened doorway, anticipating an intruder at any moment, but after a long, anxious minute, no one came.
Earlier, his grandfather had warned Zach to expect noises in the night, “Old houses settle as they cool off from the day’s heat,” he’d explained. “Nothing to be afraid of.”
Zach was frightened anyway.
He lay back down and rolled onto his side, facing the nightlight his mother had thoughtfully placed in the electric outlet on the wall by the dresser. He felt guilty for having it there, but if he’d left his overhead light on instead, his grandfather or someone else might’ve seen it from outside and thought Zach to be a coward.
Zach could hear his father’s voice in his head. You’re too old for a night light. You’re twelve already. Nightlights are for babies. Do you want a pacifier, too?
Zach fisted both hands and fought the urge to get out of his bed and go to his mother’s room and slip into hers. She’d let, him, he knew. I don’t want her to think I’m a coward, either. He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, praying for sleep to come.
Liz turned her head toward her open door when she heard Zach’s bed creak again. He’s frightened. Maybe I should go sleep with him. She continued to stare into the hall, and realized that she was scared too, but not of the noises.
What am I doing here? I thought I had escaped from this place. I used to be so proud of myself, with my good life in the big city. And now? She sighed heavily. I’m back like a dog with her tail between her legs.
No matter how much she’d tried to convince Zach that they’d landed on their feet after a terrible tragedy, she hadn’t convinced herself. “It’s gonna be okay,” she murmured for the thousandth time. We can make it. We have a roof over our heads and I have a job. It’ll be enough.
Repeating that didn’t make her feel any better, though.