Page 54

BROODING

Omar

I’mup brooding because Jules should have been home hours ago. She called me this morning—for the first time since she left on Monday morning,withoutwaking me up—to tell me she was extending her trip for two days and wouldn’t be home until Friday.

When my phone rings at 2 a.m., I answer it without checking the caller ID. “Finally.”

“Sorry, I’ve been busy.” It’s my dad. I’m so relieved to hear from him that I forget how annoyed I’ve been that he hadn’t called me back yet, either. “Hmmm, I thought you’d be sleeping,” he muses.

“Does that mean you were hoping I wouldn’t answer?”

“No. I’m just surprised you did. Seriously, this is the first chance I’ve had to call you back because I’ve dealing with your mother’s estate probate and work, and Mimosa, and your sister. But I’ve been itching to talk to you. Thank you for apologizing.I’m sorry, too. For not being more honest with you about your mother.”

“Thank you for saying that.”

“I don’t regret it, though. And I’d do it again. She didn’t love anyone more than she loved alcohol. And I hate that she used your guilt to weasel her way back into your life.”

“No she didn’t—wait. What guilt?”

“Omar, I know you were driving that day.”

I’m stunned. “You knew? Why did you kick her out then?”

“Because she was completely at fault. You were thirteen years old, having to drive yourself home because your mother was too selfish to not get drunk after soccer practice.”

“How did you know?”

“She told me. She wanted to change her plea and tell the truth once she realized she was going to be charged with a felony DUI.”

“She did?”

“Oh yeah. Until she found out she’d be responsible either way, but with a charge of felon child endangerment thrown in. She did the right thing. And so did I when I finally cut her loose.”

I’ve misunderstood so much.

“I’m sorry. I should have said I knew, but I didn’t want to tell you why back then.”

“I thought I ruined your marriage.”

“We did that all by ourselves, son. I should have made her leave before it got to that point. But it is not your fault.”

“Thank you, Dad.”

“That’s my job. And I’m sorry.”

“What was that?” I ask in mock surprise. “Two apologies in one day? Is the world ending?”

“Don’t press your luck. Now tell me when you’re bringing this woman home to meet me. I assume she’s the reason you’re still awake.”

“In a way. She’s out of town, though. But I promise we’ll talk about it when she’s back in a couple of days.”

I promise my father I’ll plan to come home soon and say my goodbyes.

Then I call Jules, but it goes straight to voicemail, and I wish I hadn’t bothered.

The chimeof my doorbell wakes me up with a start, and I grunt and feel around the bed for my phone. I peer at the grainy image of the man at my doorstep. He rings again and then knocks loudly.

I climb out of my warm bed, hurry down to the front door, and yank it open.