Page 124 of The Trust We Broke
Catfish puts his hand on my back. “I’m sorry, Lucy.”
I stand up straight. “It is what it is.”
“Before you leave, tell me as much as you can about your parents’ security system,” Wren says. “If they have cameras, I’ll find a way to tap into them through the security company, just so we have an eye on you.”
“You can do that?” Catfish raises an eyebrow.
“Child’s play,” Wren says as I scribble what little I know about the provider and my father’s basic details such as name and address.
“Can you tap into other cameras on the street, like the bakery’s and others?” Catfish asks. “Would be good to have eyes on the whole street.”
“I’m a magician, Catfish. The sooner you catch on that I can do just about anything, the better.”
Catfish taps the tabletop with his fingers. “You want to magic a new attitude? Dial down the ego, dial up the charm, a little.”
Wren flips him off. “Next thing we know, you’re gonna be telling me to smile more.”
Catfish grins at that. “Wouldn’t hurt. Would make the scenery around here much more pleasant.”
“Catfish,” I admonish as I slide the paper to Wren. “Stop.”
He puts his hands up in surrender.
“I’ll also hack into the central system at your father’s law firm and run some searches,” Wren says. “See if I can find anything else. It could be a company-wide thing that is bigger than your father. It’s all going to take some time to set up and start running.”
“I thought you said you were a magician,” Catfish teases.
Wren shakes their head. “I am. But I’m not a miracle worker. I can get what we need, but it will take time.”
“Prioritize Dad’s central system,” I say. “I can handle my mother.”
“Any thoughts on what the best use of my time is?” Catfish asks.
Wren is already head down on their computer. “You could make me some coffee.”
“I’m going,” I say with a grin, tugging on my winter coat. “Please don’t kill each other.”
I call Grudge as I walk. He doesn’t answer, but I smile when I get to his voicemail message.
I’m out. Leave a message.
Said in a tone that suggests he really couldn’t be bothered setting up a voicemail and really doesn’t want to hear from anyone.
“Hey, Daddy,” I say, playfully. “I’m just headed to check out Dad’s home office. We decided there might be more to find. Feel free to meet me there, or I’ll message you when I’m headed back to the apartment.”
The silence of the ride over gives the illusion of safety. The kind that settles deep in your bones. And while I was fine getting to the truck, my palms sweat as I repeatedly check the rearview mirror on the drive to my parents’ home, in-between rehearsing how I’m going to tell her about Dad’s affair and ensuing blackmail.
The sensor on the gates recognizes Dad’s truck and swing open. Someone has already been by to plow the few inches of snow that’s fallen. Even now, there’s a piece of me that just wants to throw the truck into reverse and leave.
But new me doesn’t run. Not from my past. Not from uncomfortable confrontations with family. And definitely not from this house.
I kill the engine, and the cold air bites into my skin as I hurry to the front door. There’s a thin drift of fresh snow lacing the edges of the three shallow steps.
I don’t know if Wren has connected to the security camera, but I wave up at it, just in case.
As I let myself into the house, the heat hits me, along with the scent of furniture polish and my mother’s overly floral perfume. Kicking the door shut, I tuck my keys into my coat pocket. There is a dish on the hallway’s round console table that holds extra pairs of cufflinks and a few coins.
I recall a fleeting memory of my father showing me how he could flip those coins across his knuckles. Maybe, once upon a time, he was more than the man he is now.
