Read Online A Bad Day for Sorry: A Crime Novel by Sophie Littlefield - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sophie Littlefield
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Recognized it all too well.
“I understand,” she said. “My daughter, Noelle and me, we don’t talk much either. We had a falling-out, I guess you’d say, after her dad passed, and now she just lives thirty miles away in Coffey, but sometimes I feel like it might as well be the moon.”
Arthur pursed his lips together and nodded slightly, and the two of them stood there in a silence that was plenty melancholy, but not uncomfortable: just two parents wondering where they’d gone wrong.
“I guess they just have to go their own way,” Arthur finally said. “How old’s your girl?”
“She just turned twenty-eight in July.”
“Arthur Junior’s thirty. Roy Dean’s twenty-seven. . . . You know, when we were that age, we were settled down, raising kids. I think Gemma’s about given up on having any grandkids.”
“Oh, now,” Stella said soothingly, “don’t let’s give up yet. You know the kids nowadays. They like to wait before they have children. Besides, what about little Tucker? Chrissy’s boy?”
A smile flashed across Arthur’s ruddy features, crinkling all the wrinkles around his eyes and his mouth and making himlook ten years younger. “Ain’t he a pistol? Aw, Gemma and I took such a shine to him.”
“Eighteen months old, I think Chrissy told me.”
“Yeah.” The smile slipped, and the light flickered out of Arthur’s gaze. “Thing is, those two, Roy Dean and Chrissy, they don’t get on so well. I think Gemma’s trying not to get attached, you know? If Chrissy goes back to her ex, why, she’s not likely to bring the little guy around anymore, see.”
“Her ex?”
“You know, that Akers boy, from up around Sedalia.”
“But they’ve been divorced for years.”
“Uh, well, the way I hear it, he didn’t want the divorce. He’s been after her all this time. They say . . .” He cleared his throat but didn’t look at her directly. “They say he used to get a little
rough
with her.”
Stella wasn’t sure what to say to that.
“I don’t mean to speak out of turn,” Arthur said quickly, “and I know my boy’s not easy to live with. Why, if Chrissy’s been . . .
visiting with
the Akers boy, on account of Roy Dean being away from the home so much, it wouldn’t be my place to blame her.”
“Arthur,” Stella began, then stopped, not sure how to say what needed to be said. “I wonder if you’ve noticed, that is, when Chrissy comes to visit, you might have seen, well, all manner of bruises and such—”
“I
have,
” Arthur said, his voice going sharp. “And if it turns out that Akers boy put ’em on her, why, I’d like to reckon with him myself.”
This time he did look at Stella, but it was only a quick glance with those troubled eyes.
It was possible the man really believed what he was saying.
It was also possible he suffered from the same disease that afflicted so many of the people Stella encountered:
denial
. Stella had battled denial herself long enough that she knew the pathology well, how it could really take a toll on a person as they struggled to keep believing the unbelievable.
If Arthur Shaw had convinced himself to ignore the facts in front of him, Stella wouldn’t judge him for it. They say most violent men follow paths that get set early in their own lives, that they’d been abused themselves and knew little else. Well, Stella’d bet a hundred bucks that Arthur Shaw had never raised a hand to his boys in anger.
Sometimes it just worked out that way. Sometimes you did your level best with a child, gave them all the love and direction you knew how, and things still didn’t work out the way you wanted.
Stella tried again, cautiously. “But you don’t think Roy Dean—”
“Oh, Roy Dean’s a trial,” Arthur interrupted, turning away from Stella and picking up his paintbrush again. “But he wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
“Oh,” Stella said. “Huh.” She thought about mentioning some of the convincing details Chrissy had shared
“I understand,” she said. “My daughter, Noelle and me, we don’t talk much either. We had a falling-out, I guess you’d say, after her dad passed, and now she just lives thirty miles away in Coffey, but sometimes I feel like it might as well be the moon.”
Arthur pursed his lips together and nodded slightly, and the two of them stood there in a silence that was plenty melancholy, but not uncomfortable: just two parents wondering where they’d gone wrong.
“I guess they just have to go their own way,” Arthur finally said. “How old’s your girl?”
“She just turned twenty-eight in July.”
“Arthur Junior’s thirty. Roy Dean’s twenty-seven. . . . You know, when we were that age, we were settled down, raising kids. I think Gemma’s about given up on having any grandkids.”
“Oh, now,” Stella said soothingly, “don’t let’s give up yet. You know the kids nowadays. They like to wait before they have children. Besides, what about little Tucker? Chrissy’s boy?”
A smile flashed across Arthur’s ruddy features, crinkling all the wrinkles around his eyes and his mouth and making himlook ten years younger. “Ain’t he a pistol? Aw, Gemma and I took such a shine to him.”
“Eighteen months old, I think Chrissy told me.”
“Yeah.” The smile slipped, and the light flickered out of Arthur’s gaze. “Thing is, those two, Roy Dean and Chrissy, they don’t get on so well. I think Gemma’s trying not to get attached, you know? If Chrissy goes back to her ex, why, she’s not likely to bring the little guy around anymore, see.”
“Her ex?”
“You know, that Akers boy, from up around Sedalia.”
“But they’ve been divorced for years.”
“Uh, well, the way I hear it, he didn’t want the divorce. He’s been after her all this time. They say . . .” He cleared his throat but didn’t look at her directly. “They say he used to get a little
rough
with her.”
Stella wasn’t sure what to say to that.
“I don’t mean to speak out of turn,” Arthur said quickly, “and I know my boy’s not easy to live with. Why, if Chrissy’s been . . .
visiting with
the Akers boy, on account of Roy Dean being away from the home so much, it wouldn’t be my place to blame her.”
“Arthur,” Stella began, then stopped, not sure how to say what needed to be said. “I wonder if you’ve noticed, that is, when Chrissy comes to visit, you might have seen, well, all manner of bruises and such—”
“I
have,
” Arthur said, his voice going sharp. “And if it turns out that Akers boy put ’em on her, why, I’d like to reckon with him myself.”
This time he did look at Stella, but it was only a quick glance with those troubled eyes.
It was possible the man really believed what he was saying.
It was also possible he suffered from the same disease that afflicted so many of the people Stella encountered:
denial
. Stella had battled denial herself long enough that she knew the pathology well, how it could really take a toll on a person as they struggled to keep believing the unbelievable.
If Arthur Shaw had convinced himself to ignore the facts in front of him, Stella wouldn’t judge him for it. They say most violent men follow paths that get set early in their own lives, that they’d been abused themselves and knew little else. Well, Stella’d bet a hundred bucks that Arthur Shaw had never raised a hand to his boys in anger.
Sometimes it just worked out that way. Sometimes you did your level best with a child, gave them all the love and direction you knew how, and things still didn’t work out the way you wanted.
Stella tried again, cautiously. “But you don’t think Roy Dean—”
“Oh, Roy Dean’s a trial,” Arthur interrupted, turning away from Stella and picking up his paintbrush again. “But he wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
“Oh,” Stella said. “Huh.” She thought about mentioning some of the convincing details Chrissy had shared
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