Page 39 of The Banned Books Club
“Yes, I’m tired of that. But it’s more that my desire to know the truth is finally outweighing my love and loyalty. Or...not my love,” he quickly corrected. “But you know what I mean. I’m finally willing to consider the possibility.”
“Really!After defending him for so long?”
“That’s the thing. I can’t keep it up any longer unless... unless I feel more confident than I do at this moment.”
“Okay.” She gestured to his truck, where Duke was staring at them with his head hanging out the window of the driver’s seat. “Will he be okay if you come in for a few minutes?”
“He’ll be fine.”
“Good.” She waited for him to step inside before pushing the door closed behind him. “Let’s go into the kitchen. I’m going to need a cup of coffee for this.”
She was acting as if he’d asked her to open Pandora’s box. Was this something he really wanted to do? After seventeen years, what did it matter what’d happened that night? Gia would probably only be in town for a few weeks or a couple of months, and then life in Wakefield would continue very much as it had before. He didn’tneedto know, did he? Why stare down that ugly possibility?
Because the truth mattered. Being fair to Gia mattered. He was late forcing himself to entertain the possibility. And it could be that his mother didn’t know any more than he did. But he wanted to hear her perspective—at last.
“Sit down.” She circled the island and went to the far counter—and that was when he noticed the new automatic latte machine.
“When did you get that?” he asked.
“A few weeks ago,” she said nonchalantly.
“I saw that brand in Williams Sonoma when I was looking for your Christmas present. It was nearly four thousand dollars!” Which was why he’d chosen something else. No one who lived alone needed a four-thousand-dollar latte machine, especially when they weren’t—by any means—rich.
“Good coffee means a lot to me,” she said.
“Mom!” He was prepared to tell her she had to be more careful with her money, but she sent him a look that warned him off.
“Don’t start. We’re talking about your father’s problems today, remember?”
He sighed. He had a shopaholic for a mother and a reprobate for a father. Were either one of them credible? Or was this a fool’s errand?
He supposed he wouldn’t know until he learned what his mother had to say. Being irresponsible with money might indicate she wasn’t perfect, either, but that sort of thing didn’t make her a liar. “So...what do you have to say about Dad? Do you believe he did it? I mean...you left him right after the trial, so...youmustthink he was lying.”
He wished she’d been more forthcoming all along, but she’d been so careful not to influence their feelings toward their father. She’d always said they had to decide for themselves.
“There are things you don’t know about that night,” she said as the latte machine began to hum.
He slid onto one of three modern-looking black bar stools. His mother might be a shopaholic, but no one could say she lacked taste. “What are they? And why haven’t you ever told me about them?”
“Because you haven’t asked. And I don’t know anything for sure. Only he can tell you what really happened that night.”
Gia could, too, of course. If only he could believe what she had to say.
“I just...had a few more pieces of evidence to consider than you and the girls had,” his mother said.
“What are they?” he repeated.
“Subtle clues, for sure.” She set a macchiato in front of him and returned to make herself a cup. “The way he was behaving that night. The things he said.”
Cormac sampled his drink and was glad she’d decided to make coffee. The hot liquid helped warm him up. “I’m afraid I’m going to need a more detailed explanation.”
“When we left for your game that night, I asked him to come with us. I really wanted us to be there as a family to support you. But he said he had to work and insisted he couldn’t take the time.”
“That’s plausible, isn’t it? He was always busy the last couple months of school.”
“ExceptIknew he’d finished grading the research papers, which is what took so much time. There could’ve been other stuff he needed to get done, which is why I relented, but...something about his excuse didn’t ring true. I remember being frustrated that he wasn’t more committed to watching you play. And he certainly didn’t tell me he had a student coming to the house. I would’ve taken a strong stand against that.”
“Because having a girl at the house leaves him open to accusation?”
