asked. I couldn’t be carrying on with Damon if we were related. If we were cousins. I was getting a queasy feeling just thinking about it.
“Where they what?”
“Elliot and Gram. Were they doing something? Did they date? Maybe before she married Grampa Harvey?”
Chester only glanced at me. “Liz and Elliot? No, of course not.” He sat back and made a tsk sound. “I know what that picture is. Your gram’s little boy died. That must have been his funeral. Before we all moved out here. He was only a week or two old, born sickly. Never left the hospital. We thought she’d never get over it. That was a real bad day.” He dropped the paper he was pretending to study. “You say you have a picture of that day?”
“It was at Corky’s. Framed on the wall. Damon took it.”
I sat back, crossed my arms, and decided to make peace with the fact that I was spilling secrets like a tortured spy.
“Damn Corky,” Chester mumbled and picked up the paper again. “He never had any sense.”
“So, where was Grampa Harvey? In the picture? Why wasn’t he the one holding Grammy’s arm?”
Chester took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. I could tell I was wearing him out, making him remember things he probably didn’t want to remember. But I felt I needed to know. All my future actions were hinged on knowing the truth. It seemed far too coincidental that both Damon’s father and my mother were crazy. That we both had grandparents who had committed suicide.
They didn’t think I knew the truth about Grampa Harvey. But I did. I’d overheard Gram and Aunt Cynthia talking about it years ago.
“Your granddad was in the hospital that day. He took it worse than Liz. He just couldn’t face up to a funeral so he made himself sick. That’s what he did whenever anything bad happened. He made himself sick so he wouldn’t have to deal with it. It was just his way.”
Chester let out a hard breath and dropped a fist to the desk. “Enough of this. I’d rather you get to know David, or Damon, or whatever he wants to call himself, a little better before you go running off with him. He’s got some bad stuff in his past and we don’t know yet how he’s dealing with it. I’m not getting a call saying you’re in the same shape as his mom. That’s all I’ve got to say about it. You’re not leaving town with that boy. I want you back in here tomorrow morning safe and sound.”
I gestured to the mess on his desk. “Is there anything I can do to help with all this?”
“No, there’s no speeding this up. The surgery takes as long as it takes. You can help Bella close up. I’ll be staying late.”
He put his glasses back on and focused on his taxes. His way of telling me to leave him alone.
So, I did.
Chester wasn’t my father, or my grandfather, but still, I wasn’t about to disobey him. He and his group, made up of my grandparents, Corky and Mrs. Jarvis, had always been like a family. I didn’t know the details about what had happened in Knoxville, but I did know they’d all decided to up and move to Polar at the same time, together. And of that group, it had always been accepted that Chester was the patriarch. The leader. The one with the final word. I’d been raised to believe that and I couldn’t turn my back on that belief now.
I was disappointed, but just scared enough to feel relieved I’d talked to Chester and Bella, the only two people left on Earth I trusted with my life, and my safety.
I helped Bella close up, then headed home, a little worried about leaving Damon alone with my mother, now that I knew what I knew about him, his father, his grandmother, and his life in general.
He’d confessed to having done something to get himself thrown into a ‘place.’ He hadn’t admitted what he’d done, but it had to have been something bad, odd, or at least illegal. I intended to find out more about this man living in my house.
And until then, I wasn’t going anywhere with him.
***
As always, I
“Where they what?”
“Elliot and Gram. Were they doing something? Did they date? Maybe before she married Grampa Harvey?”
Chester only glanced at me. “Liz and Elliot? No, of course not.” He sat back and made a tsk sound. “I know what that picture is. Your gram’s little boy died. That must have been his funeral. Before we all moved out here. He was only a week or two old, born sickly. Never left the hospital. We thought she’d never get over it. That was a real bad day.” He dropped the paper he was pretending to study. “You say you have a picture of that day?”
“It was at Corky’s. Framed on the wall. Damon took it.”
I sat back, crossed my arms, and decided to make peace with the fact that I was spilling secrets like a tortured spy.
“Damn Corky,” Chester mumbled and picked up the paper again. “He never had any sense.”
“So, where was Grampa Harvey? In the picture? Why wasn’t he the one holding Grammy’s arm?”
Chester took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. I could tell I was wearing him out, making him remember things he probably didn’t want to remember. But I felt I needed to know. All my future actions were hinged on knowing the truth. It seemed far too coincidental that both Damon’s father and my mother were crazy. That we both had grandparents who had committed suicide.
They didn’t think I knew the truth about Grampa Harvey. But I did. I’d overheard Gram and Aunt Cynthia talking about it years ago.
“Your granddad was in the hospital that day. He took it worse than Liz. He just couldn’t face up to a funeral so he made himself sick. That’s what he did whenever anything bad happened. He made himself sick so he wouldn’t have to deal with it. It was just his way.”
Chester let out a hard breath and dropped a fist to the desk. “Enough of this. I’d rather you get to know David, or Damon, or whatever he wants to call himself, a little better before you go running off with him. He’s got some bad stuff in his past and we don’t know yet how he’s dealing with it. I’m not getting a call saying you’re in the same shape as his mom. That’s all I’ve got to say about it. You’re not leaving town with that boy. I want you back in here tomorrow morning safe and sound.”
I gestured to the mess on his desk. “Is there anything I can do to help with all this?”
“No, there’s no speeding this up. The surgery takes as long as it takes. You can help Bella close up. I’ll be staying late.”
He put his glasses back on and focused on his taxes. His way of telling me to leave him alone.
So, I did.
Chester wasn’t my father, or my grandfather, but still, I wasn’t about to disobey him. He and his group, made up of my grandparents, Corky and Mrs. Jarvis, had always been like a family. I didn’t know the details about what had happened in Knoxville, but I did know they’d all decided to up and move to Polar at the same time, together. And of that group, it had always been accepted that Chester was the patriarch. The leader. The one with the final word. I’d been raised to believe that and I couldn’t turn my back on that belief now.
I was disappointed, but just scared enough to feel relieved I’d talked to Chester and Bella, the only two people left on Earth I trusted with my life, and my safety.
I helped Bella close up, then headed home, a little worried about leaving Damon alone with my mother, now that I knew what I knew about him, his father, his grandmother, and his life in general.
He’d confessed to having done something to get himself thrown into a ‘place.’ He hadn’t admitted what he’d done, but it had to have been something bad, odd, or at least illegal. I intended to find out more about this man living in my house.
And until then, I wasn’t going anywhere with him.
***
As always, I
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