Page 67 of What Boys Learn

I told her, “Ewan has been writing strange, creepy letters to me and Benjamin. Unfortunately, Benjamin has written him back, at least once.”

Willa set her cigarette in an ashtray emblazoned with the logo of Bally’s Casino before turning to me. She took my hand in hers.

“Abby, I’m so sorry. Maybe it’s my fault.”

“Of course it’s not.”

“Maybe it is. The last time you dropped him here to mow the lawn, he asked me if I had any photos of your brother, and I lied and said no. I didn’t want him thinking about your brother. And I didn’t want to mention it to you, either. I knew it would upset you.”

“I understand. There’s more I need to tell you. Maybe I should get us fresh teas, first?”

I had to watch the clock once I came back from her mobile home’s tiny kitchen with topped-up glasses. I still had a lot to explain—about Sidney, Izzy, my suspension, Benjamin’s arrest.

“Which brings me to my awkward request. You once said I could always come to you in an emergency. For a loan. Well, I’ve got Benjamin in therapy for the first time, and—”

“Say no more,” she said, popping out of her chair. When she came back, she had a burgundy faux-leather checkbook.

The quickness of her response had surprised me.

“I feel terrible about this—”

“No,” she said, starting to make out a check with a shaky scrawl—two thousand dollars—even though I hadn’t mentioned a figure and I couldn’t imagine a woman like Willa could afford that much.

I accepted the check and hugged her. She hugged me back so long and hard I could feel the vibration of her chest into mine with each raspy breath.

When she let go, she said, “I never wanted to say anything, especially when it came to Benjamin. I knew it wasn’t my place. But I’d always hoped you’d get him the help he needed.”

“It’s too much.”

“It isn’t. I’ve been waiting for you to ask.”

Waiting how long?

I felt rattled by her generosity and even more, by what lay behind it. An older woman’s trust in me. Her equal mistrust of my child, brewing for longer than I could have guessed.

I thanked her, took my glass into the mobile home, and came out again, with a final rushed minute for one last hug and more thanks of confused gratitude. I was about to go to my car when she said, “Did you hear about that missing girl? She’s from your area.”

“West of us,” I said. “Arlington Heights.”

I didn’t mention that I’d seen the girl much closer to our home, between Pleasant Park and Lake Forest. It seemed like planting a seed of suspicion or concern that didn’t merit planting.

Willa said, “The poor parents are furious because the police aren’t taking it seriously. They say she’s not a runaway. Wonder if it has something to do with those girls from your school.”

“No idea. Doesn’t it seem like there’s suddenly all these crimes against young women—all from the North Shore?”

Willa had eased back down into her lawn chair. She lit a fresh cigarette. “Not at all. It was much worse than this, before your time. Not just the North Shore, but northern Illinois, southern Wisconsin. Your mother and I used to talk about it, though she always reminded me not to talk around you and your brother. She didn’t want you to be scared.”

“When was that?”

“If she thought Ewan shouldn’t hear, he must have been only twelve or so. A year before she died. So you would have been . . . seven?

“But then the numbers started coming down,” she said. “Or at least the number of dead girls found. I suppose there were still runaways and unaccounted for missing persons after that, but not bodies. These things must come and go in waves.”

I checked my phone. I apologized again for the morbid topics. I thanked her again for the loan. I gave her a tight hug, squeezing her warm, round birdcage of a chest, sorry when I had to let her go.

When I got to Curtis’s office, I was several minutes late, but Benjamin wasn’t ready yet. That was a first. I waited in the car until it got too hot. Then I got out and wandered toward the shady side of the mother-in-law apartment, where some unwatered azaleas were browning and shriveling in the heat. I looked around for a hose, and finding none, peered into the window instead. On tiptoes I could make out a room empty except for a collection of free weights and kettlebells. So, it wasn’t being sublet to some prim elderly lady, as I’d assumed. And then again, I’d never seen another car or anyone coming and going.

A car door opened with a rusty creak, then slammed shut. Benjamin was done with his appointment and waiting for me.