Page 10 of A Week Away

That must be D for Di Stefano.

“What difference does it make?” he demanded.

“I don’t know that it makes any difference. When you’re trying to figure something out you just ask a lot of questions until you get some answers. What do people say their marriage was like?”

“Um… my grandma and grandpa never liked my mother. I remember that. There was always a fight when they wanted to see me. Which kinda ruined birthdays and stuff.”

“Do you have any ideawhythey never liked her?”

He shrugged, ate another nut. “I think I remember her saying she was too much for them.”

“What does ‘too much’ mean?”

“She likes to have fun, play cards, wear cool clothes.”

“She never remarried?”

“She’s still married to my dad.”

“There are ways to divorce a husband you can’t find.”

“She didn’t do that.”

“Boyfriends?”

He didn’t answer right away. He’d finished his nuts so he crumpled up the package. I hadn’t touched mine so I put my package onto his tray. I sipped my ginger ale and waited. Finally, he said, “She has a lot of friends.”

I took that to mean she had men in her life, just none that were permanent. He was starting to get touchy about her, though, so I decided to go in a different direction. “Your father disappeared in 1982 when you were four. I bought his papers in Reno in 1986. I suppose it’s possible that he was living under a different name and decided to sell his old identity.”

“So, he could still be alive?” Cass said. The hope in his voice made me cringe.

“Possible but not likely.”

“You disappeared and no one knows where you are.”

That wasn’t exactly true. Some people knew exactly where I was. I didn’t go into it though.

“Why can’t you be who you really are?” Cass asked.

“The mob is sort of after me.” It was the truth but it sounded kind of ridiculous.

“Why aren’t you in witness protection?”

“I’m kind of doing that on my own. Plus I’m wanted by the police for murder. I think.”

“You’re not sure? That’s stupid. How can you not be sure?”

“It was a long time ago. And now they have DNA so maybe they figured out I wasn’t even there. It’s not like they can call me.” We needed to not be talking about me. “Look, there are reasons I disappeared. Not really your business, okay? Do you know if your dad had reasons?”

“I guess he didn’t like my mom.”

“That’s a reason to get divorced not a reason to disappear. And most people who disappear don’t ditch their identities. They move far away and don’t list their telephone number. They might not file taxes for a while, but that only matters if you’ve broken the law. If you haven’t broken the law the IRS can’t give your address to just anyone so they probably file. Do you know if anyone filed a missing person report on your dad?”

“I’m not sure, but I don’t think so.”

“Everyone thinks he ran off on his own?”

“No one talks about it.”