Page 126 of The Outsider
Unfortunately, my memories revealed no candidates for Holly’s biological father. Holly and I were only four years apart, which meant that I was a small child whenever the affair initially happened, and my mother never brought men around the house after my father died. It was one of the many reasons that seeing her with Jim J, that night at the Cave, had shocked me.
A horrible sensation—as though I was falling—jolted in the pit of my stomach. I suddenly couldn’t bear the thought of staying one more minute in this small computer lab. I shot to my feet and made for the door, where Scott and Kimmy were waiting.
“Get everything you need?” Scott’s face was friendly and open, and totally inappropriate for everything I felt at the moment.
“Yes, thanks,” I replied hurriedly. I was going to vomit; I was sure of it.
“Claire?” Kimmy said, concerned.
I swallowed back bile and rushed down the hallway, determined to get outside before it happened.
“Wait! Do you not want your drive back?” Scott called after me, sounding puzzled.
“No. Burn it.”
The last thing I remembered was his befuddled expression as I made it outside and promptly emptied my stomach on his lawn.
Chapter 35
John
As usual, it was late when I got home that night. The first thing I noticed was light pouring into the hallway from the living room. I frowned. Typically, everybody was asleep by now.
Claire was curled up on the recliner by the fireplace, a glass of wine in her hand. The lamp was on beside her, and the fire burned low, in need of another log or two. A half-empty bottle of wine from the cellar stood on the side table to her left. I’d never known her to drink much, never mind by herself.
If that hadn’t tipped me off, her face would’ve. She looked lost, and her eyes were a little red, like she’d been crying.
“What’s wrong, beautiful? Why are you up?”
Her bottom lip trembled, and she drained her glass. “Sit with me.”
She moved to make room for me on the recliner. I sat and pulled her half onto my lap, enclosing her in my arms. It was a tight fit, but I didn’t care. She needed me. In my world, that overrode everything else.
Claire rested her head against the hollow of my collarbone and took a deep breath. As I stroked her hair, she told me about Neil’s last letter and the bombshells he’d dropped from beyond the grave. I listened quietly, letting her unload.
“And now I don’t know what to feel,” she finished. “I’ll still never know what happened to my father. And I’ll never be able to reconcile with Holly.”
She trembled a little in my arms. I held her tighter because it was all I could do. Grief was a wound you lived with forever, as much as I wished I could heal it for her.
“But the worst part is…about Holly’s father…”
Claire trailed off, like it was too hard to even get the sentence out. Somehow, though, I sensed her thoughts.
“You think it’s Jim J,” I finally said after a minute.
“Do you think I’m wrong?” she asked, her voice a squeak. The thought clearly scared her, and some part of her probably wanted me to disagree.
I sighed. “No. But I also don’t think it changes anything, baby.”
Her shoulder dropped and she sagged against me, defeated. I swallowed hard. I understood why this would haunt her, but I also knew that there was no way to get what she wanted: the truth.
“You’re right,” she said softly, and to my regret, she started to pull away. “I should head to bed. I have school in the morning.”
She was shutting down, keeping me at arm’s length. A sinking feeling took over me.
“Claire, baby, I didn’t mean to—”
“You didn’t,” she cut in, disentangling herself from me. “You’re right: there’s nothing I can do. My life is here now. I…need to be strong.”
