Chương 10
“I think you’re good at it.”
“My son trusted you.”
“Yes.”
“He died because of you.”
“Yes.”
The agreement came so quickly that Hal lost the next sentence.
Earl pointed toward the kitchen. “Coffee?”
“No.”
“I’m having some.”
He filled the kettle. His hands shook enough that water splashed onto the counter. Hal watched him wipe it with a dish towel.
“You can’t care for that baby,” Hal said.
“Not alone.”
“Lena cannot care for her at all.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know people. Risk assessment has been my profession for thirty-four years.”
“People aren’t warehouses.”
“No. Warehouses are required to disclose hazards.”
Earl set the kettle on the stove. “There he is.”
Hal stepped closer. “Do you know what Jonah asked me for two months before he died?”
“No.”
“A loan.”
Earl waited.
“He wanted to move Lena somewhere safer. He needed a deposit and first month’s rent.”
“You said no.”
“I said I would pay the landlord directly after reviewing the lease.”
“And Jonah heard no.”
“He heard a condition.”
“He heard you didn’t trust him.”
“I didn’t.”
The kettle began to hiss.
Hal’s eyes went to a framed photograph on the shelf. Jonah stood outside the veterans’ house holding a paint roller, his Army cap backward, one cheek streaked with white paint. Earl had not known the photograph existed until another resident mailed it after the fire.
Hal picked up the frame.
“I don’t have this one.”
“Take it.”
Hal looked at him.
“I have the file,” Earl said. “Take it.”
Hal held the photograph with both hands. His face folded for one second, then recovered.
“He looks happy,” he said.
“He was complaining about the paint.”
“He hated painting.”
“He painted three rooms.”
“He always did that. Complained as if he might refuse, then did twice what anyone asked.”
Earl poured hot water over instant coffee.
Hal returned the frame to the shelf. “Why are you helping Lena?”
“Because she asked.”
“She asked because she has no standards left.”
“Maybe.”
“Because you feel guilty?”
“Yes.”
“Because Jonah made you promise?”
“Yes.”
“Because you want to prove his death produced something useful?”
Earl looked at him.
Hal’s voice lowered. “That’s what this is. You turn my granddaughter into evidence that you deserved to survive.”
The sentence entered the room and stayed there.
Earl sat at the kitchen table. The coffee trembled in his hand.
“You might be right,” he said.
Hal’s anger faltered.
Earl continued, “That’s why I’m not asking for custody.”
“Then support the petition.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re doing the same thing.”
Hal stared at him.
“You want June because if you keep her safe enough, maybe Jonah’s death becomes the last bad thing,” Earl said. “You think control is evidence you deserved to be his father.”
Hal’s face reddened. “You don’t get to speak to me about fatherhood.”
“No. I don’t.”
The concession made the words sharper.
Earl set down the cup. “But you came here because you need me to lie in court. You want me to say Lena is dangerous every minute because she was dangerous one night. You want me to say your money makes you safe every minute because it made you safe most of your life.”
“I came to ask whether you intend to testify that she admitted illegal drug use.”
“I intend to tell the truth.”
“That is the truth.”
“It isn’t the only truth.”
“Courts do not operate on poetry.”
“Good. I’m bad at it.”
Hal put on his gloves.
At the door, he stopped. “Ruth wants Lena to have a chance.”
Earl said nothing.
“She thinks I’m punishing the girl for surviving Jonah.”
“Are you?”
Hal opened the door. “I think somebody in this story should learn from what happened.”
After he left, Earl poured the coffee down the sink without drinking it.
The truth became more complicated two days later when Lena missed a drug test.
She said the bus had broken down. The testing center recorded her as a no-show. Monica Hale treated it as noncompliance, not a positive result, but Hal’s attorney filed the information before the hearing.
Earl asked Lena for the bus route and breakdown location.
She became defensive.
“Why?”
“So we can verify it.”
“You think I’m lying.”
“I think nobody has to believe you without proof.”
“I called the center.”
“From what number?”
“My phone.”
“Show me.”
She crossed her arms.
They stood in the hospital cafeteria beside a trash can overflowing with coffee lids. Families moved around them carrying trays, unaware that June’s future had narrowed over a missed appointment.
Earl said, “Show me the call log.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re not my probation officer.”
“No. I’m the man you listed as your safety plan.”
“That doesn’t mean you get my phone.”
“It means I need to know whether I’m standing beside the truth.”
Lena’s face hardened. “You want the truth? I got to the testing center.”
Earl waited.
“I stood outside.”
“And?”
“I left.”
“Why?”
She looked at the vending machines.
“Lena.”
“I knew it would be clean.”
“That’s not why.”
A cafeteria worker dropped a stack of plastic cups. The noise made both of them turn.
Lena lowered her voice. “Denise was there.”
“The woman who gave you pills.”
“She works in the pharmacy next door.”
“What happened?”
“She saw me. She said Hal’s investigator had contacted her landlord and her employer. She thinks I gave him her name.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Then why leave?”
“Because she said if I went inside, she’d tell everyone I bought more pills.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Would they believe her?”
“I don’t know.”
“So you ran again.”
Lena looked at him with naked hatred. “You say that like it’s easy for you to stay.”
His hands jerked at his sides.
She regretted it immediately but did not take it back.
Earl said, “Call Monica.”
“No.”
“Tell her now.”
“She’ll mark me unstable.”
“She’ll mark you dishonest if this comes out later.”
May you like
“It’s my word against Denise’s.”
“Then give your word before she gives hers.”
