Page 44 of The Progressions

He squinted a little. “I think I remember the real woman and anyway, you’re always talking about her. I’m hardly around and it would be nice for my mom to have company.”

“You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to invite a total stranger into your condo,” I told him.

“It’s no problem.” He leaned back against the couch, a nice, big one that had come with the movers from California. It was comfortable for me and even big enough for him, and I was gladthat Shay Galton had stolen it (and he had paid for it in the amount that I’d negotiated with his former landlord).

“Tyler?”

“What?” He turned his head to look at me.

“Thanks for offering, even if Iva says no. I’m really glad that she has more people looking out for her. She needs it.”

“I was thinking about her son, too. What’s his name again?”

“Baby Balderston.”

“Baby Balderston didn’t do anything to deserve this situation,” he said, and I nodded.

“Neither did Iva. People can make bad choices—I sure have. It would be really awful if someone decided that I didn’t deserve any help because I’d dug the hole myself. She grew up with a dad exactly like stupid Dominic, always taking and never around, never dependable. She hasn’t ever said that exactly, but I could read between the lines and I think that people repeat stuff. They mimic what they saw when they were kids.” Now I shrugged. “I don’t really know. I’m not the person to turn to for relationship advice, even though she keeps asking me for it.”

“I wonder what your bad choice was,” he said, but I didn’t want to discuss that. “I wasn’t blaming Iva, either,” he continued. “I was thinking about her kid and I was also thinking that people did a lot for me and my mom when we needed it.”

“Why did you need it?”

“In your research into the Woodsmen, did you ever read anything about my father?” he asked.

“Just that he was absentee.” There had been a real dearth of information about the guy, and I didn’t feel like I needed to add that I knew he had a criminal record and was now deceased.

“He wasn’t totally absentee,” Tyler said. “He used to pop up and then we’d have to run again.”

“Run?” I repeated. “Why? What did he do?”

“He beat the shit out of my mom, for one thing. He beat the shit out of me, too.”

“Oh.That’s…”

“Yeah, it is,” he agreed. “He was ok sometimes, when he was sober, but sobriety wasn’t his natural state. He’d roll in and maybe he’d be ok for a while, but eventually he’d start something. Then he’d get arrested and go to jail, we’d move and hide, and he’d show up again. It went around in a circle. It was like there was never anything that anyone could do—they could never do enough to keep him away from us. But we had a lot of help. We couldn’t have made it all that time without the kindness of friends and strangers.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. I looked at Tyler and thought of how big his father must have been, and how scary.

“He’s dead,” he mentioned.

“Good.”

“Yeah, no one was sorry except for his own mother. She never knew him to do anything wrong, not even when he set fire to her trailer. It’s better that he’s dead.”

“And that’s why you’ll help Iva?” I asked.

“It’s one reason.” He was still looking at me, his hazel eyes meeting mine. “What did you ever do that you needed forgiveness for?”

“I delayed telling my dad that I backed up into the light pole,” I said, remembering one of the more recent examples. “Oh, I also told the calculator company that I had three years experience in using their exact brand. I never even saw one in person, and I shouldn’t have lied. I really didn’t believe that so many people would have problems with those dumb machines. I think they sell a faulty product.”

“What else?”

“Too many other things to count. What have you done?”

“I won’t be like my dad, if that’s what you’re asking,” he told me.

“What? No, I wasn’t asking that, not at all!”

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