Read Online The Language of Secrets by Dianne Dixon - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Dianne Dixon
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laid on a regular basis and I can see the Pacific Ocean from the back door of my apartment.”
“Sounds like you’ve got a lot to be thankful for.”
“No more than you. You have the big house. Beautiful wife. Great kids. The premier insurance agency in dear old Sierra Madre. You’ve grown up to be the son Dad always wanted, man.”
“Yeah,” Robert said. “Happy Thanksgiving to us all.” There was a quick, creaking sound, as if Caroline had moved ever so slightly in the swing. Robert was immediately uneasy, wondering if she was awake, worried that she might have heard the undercurrent of sarcasm in his voice.
Tom held the joint up as if he was saluting Robert with it. “To the Fisher boys and all that they have become!” He chuckled. “Man, back in the day, who would’ve thought you and I would ever be sitting out here smoking dope, with Mom and the old man upstairs, and us not giving a shit if they come down.”
Robert laughed. “Oh, we’d give a shit. We’d be back being thirteen again in a blink. Because we’re high and it’s half-dark and the old man would be in the doorway, backlit from inside the house. And he’d look like a ham-handed linebacker waiting to kick our butts.”
“He ever kick your butt, Rob?”
“Nah. He talked about it a lot though.”
“He used to pound me like sand.” It was only Tom’s voice that was available to Robert; his face was obscured by the gathering darkness.
“I don’t remember him ever hitting you,” Robert said.
“Not that kind of pounding. The ‘in the name of making you a man, my son’ kind. Every football practice, every game, he’d be there standing on the other side of that chain-link fence—for hours. And then later he’d tell me how I needed to be more of a hustler here, less of a hotshot there. You remember how it was, every night at dinner.”
“He couldn’t help it,” Robert said. “Sports and insurance. That’s all he had. It’s all he knew.”
“So I got the sports and you ended up with the insurance.” Tom stayed quiet for a moment; then he said, “And thus the two-bit legacy of the father is passed on to his sons.” Tom took a hit and tilted back in his chair. “He ever tell you he loved you?”
“No.”
“Me either.”
“He did, though. He loved you.”
“I know.” There was uneasiness in Tom’s voice. “He loved me plenty.” Another silence, and then he said, “How high are you, Rob?”
“High enough.”
Tom moved across the porch and leaned against the railing. “I almost ended up with both bits,” Tom said.
“What are you talking about?” Robert looked in the direction of the swing. He could no longer see Caroline. She was wrapped in shadow. He wondered if she was awake; if she was about to find out something he wouldn’t want her to know.
“I’m talking about the old man’s two-bit legacy,” Tom said. “Ialmost ended up with all of it. When he had the heart attack. Remember? It was a couple of weeks before Mother’s Day. And on Mother’s Day when I called to talk to Mom, he told me about not being able to go back to work for a while. He said he didn’t have enough savings and he needed to keep the agency going. He asked me to come home from Hawaii and take over for him.”
Tom had nicked the sleepy gauze of Robert’s high. Robert sat up straighter in his chair. “And you said no? You told him you wouldn’t come?”
“I told him it would take me a while, you know, to wrap things up at school. I said I was right in the middle of writing my thesis.”
“And …”
“And I lied. The thesis was done. I was just buying time, hoping maybe he’d be able to handle things on his own. Shit, Robert. I didn’t want to come home and take the chance of getting stuck being a goddamned insurance agent. I didn’t tell him, but I’d made a deal with myself that if he hadn’t figured something else out by Father’s Day, I’d suck it up. I’d come home.”
“Father’s Day.” Robert
“Sounds like you’ve got a lot to be thankful for.”
“No more than you. You have the big house. Beautiful wife. Great kids. The premier insurance agency in dear old Sierra Madre. You’ve grown up to be the son Dad always wanted, man.”
“Yeah,” Robert said. “Happy Thanksgiving to us all.” There was a quick, creaking sound, as if Caroline had moved ever so slightly in the swing. Robert was immediately uneasy, wondering if she was awake, worried that she might have heard the undercurrent of sarcasm in his voice.
Tom held the joint up as if he was saluting Robert with it. “To the Fisher boys and all that they have become!” He chuckled. “Man, back in the day, who would’ve thought you and I would ever be sitting out here smoking dope, with Mom and the old man upstairs, and us not giving a shit if they come down.”
Robert laughed. “Oh, we’d give a shit. We’d be back being thirteen again in a blink. Because we’re high and it’s half-dark and the old man would be in the doorway, backlit from inside the house. And he’d look like a ham-handed linebacker waiting to kick our butts.”
“He ever kick your butt, Rob?”
“Nah. He talked about it a lot though.”
“He used to pound me like sand.” It was only Tom’s voice that was available to Robert; his face was obscured by the gathering darkness.
“I don’t remember him ever hitting you,” Robert said.
“Not that kind of pounding. The ‘in the name of making you a man, my son’ kind. Every football practice, every game, he’d be there standing on the other side of that chain-link fence—for hours. And then later he’d tell me how I needed to be more of a hustler here, less of a hotshot there. You remember how it was, every night at dinner.”
“He couldn’t help it,” Robert said. “Sports and insurance. That’s all he had. It’s all he knew.”
“So I got the sports and you ended up with the insurance.” Tom stayed quiet for a moment; then he said, “And thus the two-bit legacy of the father is passed on to his sons.” Tom took a hit and tilted back in his chair. “He ever tell you he loved you?”
“No.”
“Me either.”
“He did, though. He loved you.”
“I know.” There was uneasiness in Tom’s voice. “He loved me plenty.” Another silence, and then he said, “How high are you, Rob?”
“High enough.”
Tom moved across the porch and leaned against the railing. “I almost ended up with both bits,” Tom said.
“What are you talking about?” Robert looked in the direction of the swing. He could no longer see Caroline. She was wrapped in shadow. He wondered if she was awake; if she was about to find out something he wouldn’t want her to know.
“I’m talking about the old man’s two-bit legacy,” Tom said. “Ialmost ended up with all of it. When he had the heart attack. Remember? It was a couple of weeks before Mother’s Day. And on Mother’s Day when I called to talk to Mom, he told me about not being able to go back to work for a while. He said he didn’t have enough savings and he needed to keep the agency going. He asked me to come home from Hawaii and take over for him.”
Tom had nicked the sleepy gauze of Robert’s high. Robert sat up straighter in his chair. “And you said no? You told him you wouldn’t come?”
“I told him it would take me a while, you know, to wrap things up at school. I said I was right in the middle of writing my thesis.”
“And …”
“And I lied. The thesis was done. I was just buying time, hoping maybe he’d be able to handle things on his own. Shit, Robert. I didn’t want to come home and take the chance of getting stuck being a goddamned insurance agent. I didn’t tell him, but I’d made a deal with myself that if he hadn’t figured something else out by Father’s Day, I’d suck it up. I’d come home.”
“Father’s Day.” Robert
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