Page 241 of It Happened on the Lake

Chapter 61

Twenty years!

Twenty effin’ years!

Levi stepped on the gas.

He pushed the speed limit heading south on I-5, his Ford’s tires humming along the wet pavement, the wipers doing double time, the radio blasting. But no amount of soaring vocals by Whitney Houston or hard, driving beats from Madonna or gutsy working-class lyrics by Bruce Springsteen could bring him out of his dark thoughts. Or get him to Eugene faster.

Was he angry?

Oh yeah!

Was he frustrated?

For sure.

Did he blame Harper?

Yes and no. She could have, should have, come clean.

But mostly he blamed himself and Chase, of course. Even though it seemed his older brother—once his icon, later his nemesis—was truly dead.

At his own father’s hand.

Christ, what a mess! He ground his teeth together and passed a semi pulling two trailers, its huge tires tossing up gritty water that the wipers couldn’t swipe off the windshield fast enough.

His speedometer was showing he was going over eighty, the Fairlane flying down the interstate, but he risked the ticket. It was time to take his future into his own hands. Well past it. He wasn’t going to wait for Harper. Fuck that. She’d had twenty years to spill the truth and hadn’t.

So he would.

That thought gave him pause.

No doubt Dawn would freak out. The news about her paternity should come from her mother.

Well, it was too late for that.

Down the freeway he flew, passing cars and trucks, on the straight shot down the Willamette Valley. He took the off ramp before two hours had passed and eased off the accelerator as he crossed the gray Willamette River into the town. Winding his way through the city streets, he headed closer to the University of Oregon campus and located the little retro theater complete with ticket booth and a large marquee announcing the show times forHeathers.

From the looks of it, he had time before the next show, so he’d wait and in the meantime figure out how to approach Dawn and tell her he was her real father. Anything he came up with sounded lame, but, as he drove, he hoped inspiration would hit and he’d come up with something brilliant, something that wouldn’t make him look like a nut case. At least they’d met already. He now wasn’t a total stranger. He would ask her to phone Harper to confirm that he was indeed her dad.

Then hopefully they could spend some time together while she got used to the idea. He wasn’t kidding himself. This wasn’t going to be easy. In fact, she’d probably out and out reject him.

But at least it was a first step. There was no way he’d ever gain back trips to Baskin-Robbins for a kid’s cone with sprinkles or her first bike ride. He would never hear her first word or see her take her first wobbly steps. She’d experienced her entire childhood without him, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be there for her now or in the future. He’d missed a lot, didn’t plan on missing any more.

If she accepted him.

“Pretty big ‘if,’” he told himself, remembering that Dawn said she lived just a few blocks from the theater. He cruised the area and noticed several apartment complexes clustered together. As he turned a corner, he spied her Acura parked on the street by a newer L-shaped building. “Bingo.”

Two blocks down, he parked the Fairlane under the nearly naked branches of a maple tree.

He left his car and jaywalked across the quiet street in the crisp autumn air. The sidewalk and streets glistened with the recent shower, but for now the rain had abated. He passed by the apartment buildings and a couple of alleys before reaching the area with a few bistros, shops, and the theater. There, under street lamps, pedestrians bundled in jackets and coats, carrying umbrellas or lugging backpacks, hurried along the sidewalks.

At a deli located across the street from the theater, he bought a cup of coffee and a newspaper, then took a seat at a table near the window. A few people were seated at the smattering of tables, a couple more at a long counter. At a nearby table a couple of students, textbooks open in front of them, were sipping coffee and picked at a shared monster cookie. A bell over the door tinkled as a young couple with a toddler entered, then picked up an order at the counter, where a chalkboard proudly announced the Soup of the Day and several sandwich specials.

From his table Levi had a view of the ticket booth across the street. He opened his newspaper and pretended interest in the columns of theRegister-Guardwhile surreptitiously eyeing the activity at the theater.

The minutes dragged by.