Page 4 of I Dream of Danger
Elle scrambled to keep up. Nick, always tall, had grown another couple of inches. His long legs ate up the grassy terrain. In a few minutes they were outside the gates of the cemetery, walking under the arched stone sign with Requiescat in Pacem engraved on the front.
Yes, indeed. Rest in peace, Daddy.
His last years had not been peaceful as his mind went. They had been dark and despairing as he felt himself slip day by day. Even after his mind had gone, she’d sensed the lingering despair.
He’s gone to a better place, the few people who’d come to the funeral had said. The old truism was right. Wherever he was now, it couldn’t be worse than the life he had left behind.
She and Nick were walking along an empty driveway which was always full of cars on Memorial Day and was mainly empty the other 364 days a year. Nick pulled out a remote, and a big, black expensive-looking car lit up and the doors unlocked with a whomp.
“Nice car,” she ventured. There was so much to be said, but his face was so forbidding, so remote, she could only make the blandest of comments.
“Rental,” he said tersely, and held open the passenger side door for her.
A thousand questions jostled in her head, but she simply sat, holding her jacket tightly around her while he got into the driver’s seat and took off. A minute later, warm air was washing over her, and the trembling she hadn’t noticed eased off.
He knew exactly where to go, of course.
He might have forgotten her, he might have forgotten her father, but he wouldn’t have forgotten where they had all lived together. That was another thing about Nick. His amazing sense of direction. The last few years, before he ran off, whenever they went on an outing together, her father counted on Nick to guide them. And, the last two years, after he got his learner’s license, to drive them all where they needed to go.
The Judge had probably started dementing already, though there were no signs of it then. He had been, as always, ramrod straight, iron-gray hair brushed back, always elegant and collected. The opposite of the shambles of a man she’d buried.
It helped to think of Daddy and not concentrate on Nick, driving with careless expertise. He’d always been superb behind the wheel, right from the start. The instructor had told Daddy that he hadn’t had to teach Nick anything. It was as if he’d been born knowing how to drive.
Elle stared straight ahead, doing her best not to take peeks at Nick. It was almost impossible. He was like a black hole, pulling in gravity toward him. Impossible to ignore, yet impossible to look at directly.
A thousand words were on the tip of her tongue. How are you how have you been where do you live now do you like it there…empty words really. Because what she wanted to know, she couldn’t say.
Why did you leave us? Why did you leave me?
The unspoken words choked her. She was afraid to open her mouth because they would come tumbling out. She had no filter, no defense mechanism. Plus, she’d lived alone so long with a father who could neither understand her nor respond to her, she’d grown used to saying exactly what she thought.
She wasn’t even fit company any more.
But something should be said. They hadn’t seen each other in five years. Five years, seven months, and two days. Each minute of which she’d missed him. Even in her sleep.
She concentrated on practicing the words. If she said them slowly, one at a time, surely nothing else would escape her mouth. How have you been?
How. Have. You. Been?
There, she could say that. Four simple words. And he’d answer and she’d try really, really hard not to push. She could do this. She could?—
“We’re here,” Nick said, and swerved so that the vehicle was parked outside the garage.
She hadn’t even noticed that they’d made it home.
She swallowed. The garage had been left open. Her mistake. She’d rushed in to get slippers for Daddy’s last visit to the hospital, and in her haste hadn’t closed it. There were no cars. Daddy had always kept a Cadillac and a Toyota but both had been sold two years ago. She took the bus to the few places she had to go.
Nick didn’t bother putting the rental inside the garage.
He wasn’t staying.
Elle swallowed the pain and turned when he opened the passenger door. He held out a big hand. She didn’t need help. But…this might be her only, her last chance to touch him.
She put her hand in his and in a second, he guided her down to the gravel, dropped her hand, then held it out again, palm up.
She looked at it blankly, then up at him. He wanted to hold her hand?
“Keys,” he said tersely.
