Page 13 of Grave Beginnings
“Dad.”
Oh. “Is that what you want?” From what I remembered of our father, he was a cold man with little care for anything other than money. Not that he was uber-rich. He did well, headed a small company, but never top-tier. Mom was a status symbol for him—a pretty wife who obeyed—and I was supposed to be the obligatory heir. I guess Ivan now had that role. What a terrible place to be.
“No one cares what I want.”
“That’s sort of normal,” I said. “Adults rarely look at teenagers and think, ‘Wow, they are so smart, they know everything,’” I teased. “But honestly, some things we know, especially about ourselves. I knew I was gay when I was little. I can’t remember the name of the first boy I had a crush on. But I kept it to myself. I can’t say that even I know exactly what I want. Love, that’s always a hope—dream, really—but my job?” I shrugged. “I like the mystery. The rest of life is just finding what you enjoy and hoping for a chance to pursue your dreams.”
We walked another few blocks in silence.
“I know more now that I’m older. About myself and the world. But I’m still learning new things all the time. Would I have kissed that boy if I knew? Maybe. Honestly, Grandma and Grandpa were good to me. But I spent a few weeks on the street before I admitted to myself I couldn’t do it alone. I was only sixteen. Not that I make the best choices now, either. My dating record is pretty shitty. But I have the misfortune of being attracted to men, and a lot of men are shitty.”
“Are you happy?”
“Mostly. I mean, we all wish we could make more money, right? Have a nicer place? Find someone to share our lives with? I have friends I adore, and Grandpa is my family. I loved my job…” And that had been stripped away. Would I like the new one? I sighed. “Sometimes, changes get thrown at us and we have to roll with them or find a way to fix things. Other times, we are the instrument of change. Two sides of one coin. It’s our choice to flip it or not.”
“What if I don’t know what I want?”
“I think that’s normal, and brave of you to admit it. Can I do anything to help?”
We walked long enough that I worried I’d need my phone to GPS us back to Grandpa’s. He finally said, “I don’t know.”
“How about we head back and get some sleep? See how things look in the morning? If you need a ride home, I’ll take you. No questions asked.”
“Do you hate them?” I knew instantly who he meant.
“I would be lying if I said I didn’t get mad when I think of them sometimes. But I don’t think of them much anymore. And when I remember back, they weren’t much there when I did live with them.”
“Do you hate me?” He whispered so softly I barely heard him.
“No.”
He stopped again to gaze at me, tears running down his cheeks. When I took a step forward, he took one back.
I held up my hands. “I won’t touch you. Promise. Just know that I’m here if you need me. I don’t hate you. Neither of us asked for our shitty parents. It would be dumb to blame you for their mistakes, and I’m grown up enough to understand that.”
He stared at me for a long time, arms crossed, shivering. Finally, he said, “Okay,” and looked around. “I don’t know how to get back.”
“Good thing I remembered my phone.” I pulled up the GPS and guided us back toward Grandpa’s place. “My only request is that you put my number in your phone. Probably name it something they won’t suspect, ‘cause if they see my name in there, they will lose their minds.” I didn’t want him hurt. Ivan hadn’t said anything about our dad getting violent, but he’d beat the shit out of me before throwing me out. I never told my grandparents, and hoped he’d saved that special treatment just for me. “Call ifyou need me. Memorize the number if you worry about them finding it.”
“Why?”
“Why what? Why call?”
“Why would you help? You don’t know me.”
“Because someone should, kid. Everyone deserves a chance. Blood related or not, I have the ability to help. So whywouldn’tI?”
He didn’t say anything else the entire way back. When we entered the condo, it was dark, and Peanut Butter sat in the doorway to Grandpa’s room. “He okay?” I asked the cat.
Peanut Butter chirped, then leapt up to the back of the couch. I really hoped it would be the last trip I had out for the night, but at least my cat planned to watch my little brother for any more after dark excursions into homelessness.
5
I’d takenIvan home Sunday night, waited down the street until I saw him go inside, and even watched for another hour in case he came running back out. After driving by the place three times before going home, I sent him a text reminding him to call me if he needed something, but got no reply. I headed home to prepare for the next day and my new job.
The packet of information I’d been emailed detailed a very generous pay increase of over twenty-thousand more a year, a healthy benefits package, and a list of my coworkers and new supervisor. I was to be partnered with Angel Mao. The name made me picture a small Latina woman with lots of attitude and maybe the ability to set people on fire, but there was no identifying information about any of my new team or even what role I would play on it. Would I still be working homicide cases? I couldn’t imagine how insane they’d be if they were all SED related.
I showed up to the Richfield precinct early Monday morning dressed in nice black slacks and a button-up as dress code hadn’t been in the packet. I’d never been a uniform cop as I’d studied and gone direct to detective. My skillset best applied to solvingcases and putting together puzzles no one knew were missing pieces.