Page 28 of The Banned Books Club
There were books all over Cormac’s father’s house, but they weren’t neatly organized like they’d been before Sharon had forced him to take his stuff and move out. They were piled on every horizontal surface, even on the kitchen counter—too close to the stove, but his father refused to listen. There were papers and bookmarks sticking out of them, too. Or they were lying face down, creased at the spine where Evan had left off reading to pick another book or go to work.
Reading had always been a passion for him, so much so that he’d named his three children after American writers—Cormac McCarthy, Louisa May Alcott and Edith Wharton. But these days he’d sunk so deeply into the imaginary worlds these authors and others had created, he wasn’t doing much real living. Cormac was glad Evan hadn’t lost his love of the written word. At least he still had that. But he wished his father could get some balance in his life and take care of a few other things—like mowing the yard so the neighbors would quit calling to complain.
“Hey, it’s me! You here?” Cormac yelled, confronting the mess while pocketing his keys and slamming the door behind him.
It took a few minutes before his father finally appeared from the back bedroom, looking tired and rumpled. Cormac had found him passed out drunk so many times that he had a spare key. Whenever Evan didn’t answer the door, he let himself in, as he had tonight.
Discouragement settled on Cormac’s shoulders like a heavy rucksack. “What’s going on? Didn’t you go to work today?”
“No, I didn’t make it today. I... I wasn’t feeling well.”
Because he had a hangover? It looked like that might be the case. He hadn’t even shaved or combed his hair.
Or was it that he’d been too immersed in whatever book he was reading? Lately, he’d been on a fantasy kick. “How many sick days have you taken this year?”
“I don’t know,” his father replied.
Cormac was willing to bet he had some idea—and that it was too many. “You’re going to lose your job. You know that, don’t you? And then where will you be?”
“I haven’t missedthatmany days,” he said with a scowl. “I didn’t want to be out and about, not with Gia in town. You think I want her to see me working at a tractor shop?”
Cormac’s head was beginning to hurt. He’d probably let himself get dehydrated since he took Mrs. Wood and Astro to the park this morning. He needed to remember to drink more water. But it was also his father. “I think you need to go on and live your life and forget about her—I meancompletely. I’ve decided we all need to do that. Who cares if she’s in town? Getting fired will only...” He’d been about to say,Getting fired will only allow her to take more from you than she already has. But he could no longer bring words like those to his lips, which said something about the doubt that’d crept in over the last twenty-four hours. “Getting fired will only put you in a worse position,” he finished instead.
“Cliff’s not going to fire me,” his father said, grimacing to show his skepticism. “He and Marilou are lucky to have me down there. I’m way overqualified for the job.”
And yet he’d been a terrible employee. Didn’t he understand that his qualifications didn’t matter if he didn’t actually apply himself? “It’s a living, Dad. It pays your rent. You can’t afford to lose it. And think about them. They’re not babysitters. They’re relying on you to help with their business.”
His father raked his fingers through his hair, which had grayed and begun to thin in front. His beard growth, which was so prominent today, was gray, too, and he had deep lines in his face. “Don’t be a judgmental ass. I know what my responsibilities are. I was sick. I’m sure I’ll be fine tomorrow.”
Cormac was willing to bet he’d been well enough to worktoday. But he hadn’t come over to try to police his father’s lazy approach to his job. As much as Cormac was afraid to learn the answer, he wanted to know if Evan had been lying about what happened with Gia that long-ago night.
“What are you doing here, anyway?” Turning his bloodshot eyes toward the clock, Evan yawned. “It’s Friday night. I rarely see you on a Friday.”
Because Cormac usually went out with his friends—or had a date. After a long week at the clinic, he took Saturdays off, wasn’t even on call thanks to a deal he’d made with Vinny DiVincenzo, the vet in the next town over. Vinny covered both offices on Saturday, and Cormac covered both offices on Sunday. That way they each had one day a week they weren’t going to get called out on an emergency. “I’m on my way home from the clinic and have Duke in the truck, so I can’t stay long, but I came to tell you that Gia showed up at my office a few minutes ago.”
His father dropped his hand from his hair. “She...what? Why? She’s never approached you before.”
“It was Louisa’s fault. She called Ida today.”
“What for?”
“Because she wants what you want, Dad. What we all want. A retraction.”
“Gia won’t give us one. Not after all this time.”
Cormac studied his father, wishing he could see what was going on behind his eyes, because there were no telltale signs he was lying. Had that been the case, had there been the slightest hint of dishonesty, Cormac would’ve stopped believing him years ago. “You’ve been talking about confronting her for so long. I guess Louisa couldn’t stop herself from stepping up to say something.”
His father seemed thoughtful. “How’d Ida respond? She and I are friendly, you know.”
“Actually, I didn’t know. She speaks to you?”
“Not exactly. We don’t have any business that’s brought us together. But she treats me kindly enough when we pass on the street.”
“That doesn’t mean she’s going to take up your case against her own daughter, Dad,” Cormac said. “She’s not interested in getting involved. For one thing, she’s probably too sick. It was insensitive of Louisa to even contact her.”
Evan didn’t say whether he agreed with that assessment or not. He seemed to think it over for a few minutes. Then he scratched the back of his neck and said, “What’d Gia have to say?”
“She was mad as hell that Louisa had bothered her mother, and I can see why.”
