What we know is true, p.10
What We Know Is True, page 10
Reid looked over his shoulder at me. “Are you ok?”
I nodded up at him, my chin rubbing his back. “Oh. Sorry.” He was so warm and solid, hard muscles under his soft shirt. I let go of him, immediately feeling colder and alone. Without meaning to, I stepped toward him again.
“Have you had enough party practice for the night?” he asked me.
“I think so,” I answered, looking back at the house. “I liked the first part better than the ending.”
“Well, the real ending is coming now,” he said, pointing at the police car that was rolling up the block. “Probably the neighbors got a little tired of the party. Let’s go.” He took my hand again and we hurried off down the sidewalk, my feet flying over the ground next to his long strides. It was a lucky thing that one of my New Year’s resolutions had been to exercise. When he stopped, I was out of breath, but still able to speak.
“Why did we stop here?” I asked, looking around. “Should we go back to the car?”
Reid was standing on the sidewalk, motionless. “This is the car.”
“What?” I looked up and down the block. I didn’t understand.
“This is where I parked.” He gestured at the blank space on the road in front of him, between a little white car and a big, beat-up red truck that I thought looked vaguely familiar. I seemed to remember the truck from when we had arrived to go to the party, but that didn’t make any sense, because I didn’t see Reid’s Jeep anywhere.
“If you parked here, then where’s the car?” I asked. Then the pieces fell together in my mind. “Oh…”
“Yeah.”
Yeah. His car had been stolen.
“I’m very sorry,” I said again, a while later, as we took a rideshare back to my house. I had said it so many times, I sounded like Ione.
“It’s not your fault. It’s always the danger of having a ragtop. My uncle told me that when I bought it, a million years ago.” Reid sighed. “He was right, again.”
“Well, I feel like it’s my fault. You wouldn’t have parked there if it hadn’t been for me. So I’m very sorry.” He just waved his hand and looked out the window.
The driver pulled up in front our mom’s little rented house. “Uh, Reid? I probably don’t have to say it, because you probably already plan on it, but please be careful tomorrow.” I had been reading actuarial tables about rock climbing.
“I will be.”
“Maybe, um, maybe call Augusta when you finish, so she knows you’re all right.”
“That’s a good idea,” he told me. “Although I didn’t mention to her what I’m doing, maybe I’ll just let people know that everything is fine.”
“Ok, great. I’m sorry about your car. Again.”
The driver glanced impatiently at us in the rearview mirror.
“And I’ll see you Monday at work,” I finished.
I ran inside before I could say any more, things about weather conditions, terrain familiarity, and the rates of equipment failure during climbs. I watched the car pull out of the driveway and head down to Detroit, and although I had never asked much of any higher powers, I wished very, very hard that he would be safe the next day.
Then I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror, which we had at our house instead of focusing on our inner light. My hair stood out from my head as if I had undergone a severe electric shock. I tilted this way and that, mouth open, gaping. Really, it more resembled a large, tangled mushroom, and it had been that way since my ride in the car over to the party. Oh, gracious. Maybe I should have stuck to the inner light thing.
∞
I read the last sentence of the article, then closed the cover of the academic journal. “That’s what you said too, but ten years before this guy wrote it. You were right, Dad.”
My mom smiled at me approvingly and I tried to smile back.
My dad didn’t make any sign that he’d heard me or understood anything that I had read to him, not even as I’d stumbled over the Greek words and phrases that were no longer familiar to me. If he had caught me doing that before, it would have been completely unacceptable. There would have been a lot of eyerolls and questions about what I had been doing with myself, if I was taking away time from what he considered important (his studies) with silly forays into learning math and English grammar.
I had noticed a decline in him, a steady decrease in his speech and even with his recognition of my mom. Today he hadn’t known her, but she either hadn’t noticed or had pretended not to. I thought that she was probably pretending. Or maybe, since she saw him almost every day, she just didn’t notice the incremental changes. The loss.
My mom started to talk to him and I realized I was staring at the door when she asked, “Wouldn’t that be nice, Karis?”
“Huh? What would be nice?”
“I was telling your father that I was thinking about him moving back home so we can live together,” she explained.
“What? You are?”
She wiped the corner of my father’s mouth with a napkin. “It’s so expensive for him to stay here, and I can’t see that they’re doing any more than I could do myself. We could organize our schedules so that one of us is always with him.” She smiled at my dad. “How do you feel about that, Roland? Would you like to come and live back at home with us? We miss you so much.”
“Mom.” I didn’t know where to start. It felt like a burning ball was roiling in my stomach. “No, no. We can’t do that. He needs to live here.”
She shot me an angry look. “We don’t need to discuss it any further, not right now,” she said to my father.
I had gotten to my feet. “It’s time to go.”
“So soon?” My mom looked at her watch. “Yes, I have to get to work. I switched to Saturday nights,” she explained to him. “That will mean I’m busier, but more income from gratuities, as well.” Again, my dad didn’t acknowledge her, not when she kissed his dry cheek and motioned to me to do the same, either.
I walked very quickly out to the parking lot and I held in my words until I had started the car and we were on the road. “Mom, why would you say something like that? Of course he has to stay there.”
“No, he doesn’t,” she said calmly. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot and I believe that it would be better for him at home.”
“How?” I asked helplessly.
“I’ve changed my schedule at work, and your new job won’t keep you there as late, you said, so—”
“I don’t think so, but I don’t know. I haven’t even started yet!”
“You’ll be back by the time I need to leave,” she continued as if I hadn’t interrupted. “That way he’ll have someone home with him at all times.”
I thought about what she was saying. “Every day, all day, you’ll stay at home? What about grocery shopping, appointments?”
“I’ll go on weekends, when you’re there.”
“And you expect me to be there all weekend with him and every night, too? I thought you wanted me to get out and be social.”
“I’ll have nights off, Karis. Your boyfriend can wait and see you then.” She turned in the car seat and stared at me. “Your father is more important than all these concerns.”
“To you,” I said, and as much as I wished it back, the two words hung there between us in the car.
She turned to stare at me. “That’s a horrible thing to say. Horrible! Shame on you, Karis. Is that what you would do to me, also? Say that I’m not important and you’d rather forget me? I didn’t think I had raised such a selfish girl.”
I tried to remain calm. “I’m not saying that I want to forget him. I didn’t mean that he’s not important. I’m just trying to be practical. His needs—his physical needs—they’re more than we can handle.”
My mom now refused to look at me. “No,” she told me.
I could feel disappointment in me radiating off her, which was much worse than my father’s derision or disregard had ever been.
“Mom,” I said softly, but she steadfastly ignored me. “Mom, please. I know you want things to go back to the way they were, but please just try to think in practical terms what this would mean for both of us.” She continued to study the office buildings we were passing. “Ok,” I sighed. “I hope you reconsider this idea. I’m not trying to be selfish.”
Maybe I was. Maybe it would be better for him to be with people who loved him, I thought, but then I shook my head. I really didn’t think we could do it. But also, I didn’t want to, and that was the selfish part. I wanted to see my two friends and maybe have a real boyfriend, I wanted to go for a run and to the Y to swim, I needed to figure out a way to develop a sense of style and to get taller. I didn’t want the axis of my life to be my father. Again.
My mom quickly got out of the car when I pulled into the driveway and I watched her go inside. I took out my phone and called Augusta rather than follow.
“I’m in hell,” Augusta greeted me. “She’s been in the fake nursery all morning arranging all the tons of things she sent for the baby. The things I had already arranged. She wanted to start ‘working’ on my bedroom too, but I had to put my foot down.”
Her mother-in-law, Diana, had come up for the weekend on an unannounced visit, Augusta had texted me that morning, and it sounded like things were as bad as ever. Shane had stood up to his mother to some extent and said that if she came without notice, she had to stay in a hotel but she had thrown an absolute fit about it. At least they would have a little reprieve at night if they could get her out of the front door at the end of the day (which I had my doubts about).
“Try to remain calm for the baby. You don’t want to get so worked up that you go into labor while she’s there, because I think that would be the real definition of hell,” I answered.
“You’re right. I’ve appointed Reid as the person who’s going to keep her out of the delivery room and he went somewhere this weekend, so I definitely can’t have the baby now.”
“Oh, he went away? Where?” I casually inquired, my heart starting to beat harder. Maybe he had already told her that he was down, and ok.
“I think he went to see a friend? Anyway, he flew up to the UP and he hasn’t answered any of my whining messages about Diana. But he did tell me early this morning that you’re going to work for him! Wait, hang on.” Augusta must have covered the microphone because I heard her muffled voice say, “No, Diana. We like having the plates there. And the glasses there. Please don’t move things again.” Now she whispered. “I heard clanking in the kitchen and she’s ‘organizing’ it again. Which means that we can’t find anything after she leaves and she throws away whatever she thinks we don’t really need.” She huffed with frustration. “Think carefully before you marry a man because you marry his mother, too. I’m so tired of arguing with her.”
Personally, I thought Shane was being a big weenie about all this, but I hesitated to tell Augusta that. She didn’t need to hate someone else at the moment, for example me, or her husband.
“Anyway, enough about me hating Diana,” Augusta said. “Tell me about the job. Reid was very vague in what he wrote to me.”
I filled her in as much as I could. He had emailed me an employment contract (which was very generous) and someone from California had sent me a huge packet of forms about the health plan and other benefits. Again, also very generous. “I start Monday,” I concluded.
“I think it will be great. If…”
“Oh, gracious. I knew the other shoe was going to drop.”
“No, no shoe. I worry a little about Reid staying in Detroit. Even when he was in college, he took so many semesters abroad that he almost didn’t graduate on time. I just hope he means what he says, that he’s going to stick around here and move his headquarters, all that.”
“Me too.” I swallowed. “He’s asking his employees to come live in Michigan. He doesn’t seem to realize that they’ll uproot their lives, their kids, everything.”
“Aren’t they volunteering to come? Not everyone has your aversion to moving trucks, Karis. Oh, crap. She’s trying to open the door to the real nursery!” she hissed into the phone. “No, Diana,” Augusta said loudly. “We keep that door locked. It’s for…it’s full of…”
“Tell her that it’s crammed with all the souvenirs that Shane has collected when he kills people,” I said. Maybe her son being a serial killer might make Diana leave them alone.
“You’re sick. No, Diana, not you. That room is full of the souvenirs that Shane has collected…from his many business trips. They’re very valuable and we don’t want the cleaning lady to break anything,” she said. “Yes, seriously.” She sighed loudly into the phone. “Karis, can I call you later?”
“Please do. Especially if you’re in jail for assaulting her. I’ve always wanted to be someone’s choice as their one phone call. Um, if you hear from Reid, will you let me know?”
“What? Sure, yeah. No, Diana…” she was saying as she hung up.
I sat in the car a little while longer, not wanting to go inside to face the unhappy silence of my mom. But I didn’t want to act like Shane, afraid of confrontation, so I went in, and after a while both my mom and I pretended that we hadn’t gotten into the argument. So much for not being afraid of confrontation. She went to work and I went grocery shopping, got my oil changed, and did a lot of other mundane things while looking at my phone at regular intervals to see if Augusta had heard anything about Reid.
Finally, while I was in line to get my dry cleaning, it vibrated in my pocket with a text.
Reid McGrath Checking in with you, Prudence. I’m all good.
I sighed loudly with relief and the lady in front of me turned around.
Me I’m glad. I’m looking forward to seeing you Monday.
I hit send before I realized how it sounded. It sounded like I really felt, and he didn’t need to know that.
Me I meant that I’m looking forward to seeing you because I’ll be starting a new job with you on Monday, that was all. Not that I wanted to see you, personally. Or especially.
Send. I slapped my hand to my head. That was worse! After a minute he replied.
Reid McGrath Stay out of trouble until Monday. I’m looking forward to seeing you, too.
I sighed again, this time because bubbling happiness swelled through my chest. He was fine, and I would see him soon.
Chapter 7
The office was dark when I came in on Monday morning. The rising sun glinted off the Detroit river, making the water sparkle. I found myself a little transfixed by the beautiful scene.
“Good morning.”
I jumped at least three feet in the air. “Oh, gracious! You startled me.”
Reid stood behind me, looking over my shoulder at the river. “I love this view.”
“It is beautiful.” I stepped closer to the glass and his hand shot out, gripping my shoulder. “What? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” He pulled me and I took a step back, away from the window. “Let me show you your desk.”
I looked up at him and laughed, because there was only one desk in the room, an old-fashioned one made for two people, facing each other. “Thank you,” I said. “I wouldn’t have guessed it.”
He smiled at me, his old smile, and walked to turn on the lights. “I need to show you which side is yours,” he explained. “I do plan to get a few more pieces of office furniture before other employees arrive. This was my dad’s desk and I got it out of storage to use. He and my uncle were partners and they worked across from each other for years.”
I sat down in the big chair. “I like it. I especially like this chair—it’s very nice and high. My old chair was extremely low. I think my boss got it for me because he hated me, and I felt like a child in it. I had to bring in a cushion to sit on but really I could have used a phone book, I’m so short.”
“You’re not short,” Reid disagreed. “You’re petite.” He sat down in the other chair. It was going to be very distracting, trying to work with someone so attractive sitting right across from me. I was going to have to be very careful not to say something weird, too.
“Thank you for saying that I’m not short. I guess if I had been born before the advent of modern medicine and food additives, I probably would have been considered normal-sized. And in some cultures, where body fat is more valued…” No, no, stop! That was venturing into the weird. “How was your trip?” I asked, to change directions.
“Fine,” he said briefly. “It’s a great spot to climb.” He looked closely at his screen and I looked at mine.
“Is there anything you want me to start on?” I asked, since the black glass of the LCD staring back at me wasn’t giving me any hints.
Reid looked up. “It’s early. I didn’t expect you to be here yet. I was going to start writing up some projects for you to complete, but now that you’re here, let’s just talk through it.”
So that was how we spent the morning. Reid also got a lot of calls, as soon as the office in California opened up a few hours later, and had to stop several times to answer emails and text messages about work, too.
“I don’t know how you did it,” I wondered, after the thirteenth interruption.
“Did what?”
“How you worked like this while you were traveling. Some of the places you two went barely had internet connections.”
“I didn’t work like this, not while I was on the road. I’m taking a bigger role now that I’m here.” Reid was studying me. “Did you keep track of where we were and what we did? Follow Jerrica and read her blog?”
“Oh, some.” Religiously, every day at least once. “Since I had met you, you know, briefly at the wedding, I was interested. Augusta talked about you a lot, too.”
