Read Online Trust Your Eyes by Linwood Barclay - Free Book Online
Authors: Linwood Barclay
Ads: Link
electedgovernor. He’s said to have some very powerful people working behind the scenes for him, including the former vice president of the United States. Back to you—”
She turns off the set and stares into space for a moment, trying to take it all in. She still has the image in her head, of the couple getting out of the back of a town car, waving to supporters, going into a building to give a speech or something.
“Sawchuck?” Allison whispers. “The guy’s a goddamn poli-tician?”
She puts both hands on her head, runs her fingers out through her shoulder-length black hair, and lets out a very long breath.
“Fuck me,” she says to herself.
Allison is glad she hasn’t already called her mother, because there may be another solution to her cash flow problem.
SEVEN
“YOU’VE got an appointment today with Dr. Grigorin,” I said while Thomas poured some milk on his cereal. “Dad set it up a few weeks ago.”
“I don’t need to see her, Ray,” he said, not looking at me.
“Well, I’d appreciate it if you’d go. I know Dad thought it was good for you to see her once in a while.”
“I don’t want to go,” he said. “I have work to do.”
“You can do it when you get back. I know you can leave this house if you have to. You’d just rather not.”
“If I had a reason to go, I would go, Ray. But there isn’t one.”
I put my mug of coffee to my lips and took a drink. All Dad ever kept in the house was instant and it was pretty vile, but at least it had caffeine in it. I added a second spoonful of sugar. “There is a reason, Thomas. You, and I, have just been through something pretty traumatic. We’ve lost our father. And as difficult as this is for me to get through, I suspect it’s even more troubling for you. I mean, you guys lived under the same roof.”
“He got mad at me a lot,” Thomas said.
“Like when?”
“He was always telling me to do things I didn’t want to do.” He gave me a look. “Kind of like you right now.”
“But Dad was never mean to you,” I said. “Annoyed once in a while, maybe, but not mean.”
“I guess,” he said. “He didn’t like me staying in my room all day. He wanted me to go out. He didn’t understand how busy I am.”
“It’s not healthy,” I said. “You need some air. Thomas, you have to know, in your heart, that there’s a problem when you’re so addicted to what you’re doing that you don’t even go to Dad’s funeral.”
“I had to go to Melbourne that day,” Thomas said.
“Jesus, Thomas, you did not have to go to Melbourne that day. You did not have to go to Melbourne, or Moscow, or Munich, or fucking Montreal. You needed to go to our father’s funeral.” I knew I wasn’t being fair, blaming Thomas for this. I knew he most likely couldn’t help himself. As soon as I’d said the words, I regretted them. Getting angry with Thomas for not overcoming his obsession was like getting angry with a blind man for not seeing where he was going.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
He didn’t say anything. Neither of us did, for the better part of a minute.
I broke the silence. “I think it’s important, right now, while I’m trying to sort out a few things, that you go see Dr. Grigorin. I’d also like to talk to her.”
Thomas eyed me curiously. “Are you having some issues, too?”
“What?”
“I think, actually, that’s a good idea. You should talk to her. She could help you.”
I blinked. “Help me? Help me with what?”
“About your need to control other people. She might be able to give you something for that. She gives me something to help me with the voices. So she might be able to write you a prescription, too.”
“Well, there’s an idea,” I said.
“You could go on your own,” he suggested. “You can tell me what she had to say when you get back.”
“We’re going together.”
He licked his lips, started opening and closing his fingers. His mouth was getting dry. Anxiety was setting
She turns off the set and stares into space for a moment, trying to take it all in. She still has the image in her head, of the couple getting out of the back of a town car, waving to supporters, going into a building to give a speech or something.
“Sawchuck?” Allison whispers. “The guy’s a goddamn poli-tician?”
She puts both hands on her head, runs her fingers out through her shoulder-length black hair, and lets out a very long breath.
“Fuck me,” she says to herself.
Allison is glad she hasn’t already called her mother, because there may be another solution to her cash flow problem.
SEVEN
“YOU’VE got an appointment today with Dr. Grigorin,” I said while Thomas poured some milk on his cereal. “Dad set it up a few weeks ago.”
“I don’t need to see her, Ray,” he said, not looking at me.
“Well, I’d appreciate it if you’d go. I know Dad thought it was good for you to see her once in a while.”
“I don’t want to go,” he said. “I have work to do.”
“You can do it when you get back. I know you can leave this house if you have to. You’d just rather not.”
“If I had a reason to go, I would go, Ray. But there isn’t one.”
I put my mug of coffee to my lips and took a drink. All Dad ever kept in the house was instant and it was pretty vile, but at least it had caffeine in it. I added a second spoonful of sugar. “There is a reason, Thomas. You, and I, have just been through something pretty traumatic. We’ve lost our father. And as difficult as this is for me to get through, I suspect it’s even more troubling for you. I mean, you guys lived under the same roof.”
“He got mad at me a lot,” Thomas said.
“Like when?”
“He was always telling me to do things I didn’t want to do.” He gave me a look. “Kind of like you right now.”
“But Dad was never mean to you,” I said. “Annoyed once in a while, maybe, but not mean.”
“I guess,” he said. “He didn’t like me staying in my room all day. He wanted me to go out. He didn’t understand how busy I am.”
“It’s not healthy,” I said. “You need some air. Thomas, you have to know, in your heart, that there’s a problem when you’re so addicted to what you’re doing that you don’t even go to Dad’s funeral.”
“I had to go to Melbourne that day,” Thomas said.
“Jesus, Thomas, you did not have to go to Melbourne that day. You did not have to go to Melbourne, or Moscow, or Munich, or fucking Montreal. You needed to go to our father’s funeral.” I knew I wasn’t being fair, blaming Thomas for this. I knew he most likely couldn’t help himself. As soon as I’d said the words, I regretted them. Getting angry with Thomas for not overcoming his obsession was like getting angry with a blind man for not seeing where he was going.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
He didn’t say anything. Neither of us did, for the better part of a minute.
I broke the silence. “I think it’s important, right now, while I’m trying to sort out a few things, that you go see Dr. Grigorin. I’d also like to talk to her.”
Thomas eyed me curiously. “Are you having some issues, too?”
“What?”
“I think, actually, that’s a good idea. You should talk to her. She could help you.”
I blinked. “Help me? Help me with what?”
“About your need to control other people. She might be able to give you something for that. She gives me something to help me with the voices. So she might be able to write you a prescription, too.”
“Well, there’s an idea,” I said.
“You could go on your own,” he suggested. “You can tell me what she had to say when you get back.”
“We’re going together.”
He licked his lips, started opening and closing his fingers. His mouth was getting dry. Anxiety was setting
Similar Books
