Chapter Twenty-One
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Lee spent much of the funeral in confusion.
She was ten, old enough to understand her father was dead, though not its implications.
She asked her mother: Does this mean we are going to be sad the rest of this year?
And the next? Joan didn’t know. All day relatives had approached, making murmuring sounds; Juliet in particular had paid Lee close attention, asking in a sugary voice if she would like to be read a story, as if she were a little kid.
Although it was a reminder that Lee had her book, and she’d shuffled to a corner with her newest Calvin and Hobbes.
She assumed she’d be told to stop reading at dinner, but no one seemed to care.
When they returned home, her mother put her and Jamie to bed.
“Close your eyes,” Joan said.
“But I’m not tired.”
“You’ve had a long day,” Joan said robotically. “Just close your eyes and you’ll fall asleep.”
Lee closed her eyes. She tried to sleep, but that was when she thought of her father.
How he lounged at the table in his striped pajamas and glasses each morning, coffee and newspaper at hand; his fondness for beef jerky; his (impatient) attempts to teach her and Jamie chess.
How impossibly little he’d felt when she hugged him through his blanket these last weeks.
She hated to recall this, and yet the more she resisted, the more her brain summoned forth the memory.
His bones, his loose skin, his medicinal smell. These were her last memories of Bill.
After what seemed to her like hours, she crept out of bed and went to the kitchen.
There was a box of macarons on the table, which Misty had brought from London.
She had flown in for the funeral with her boyfriend, a sullen-looking playwright.
Lee knew by now she had been born to Misty, but Lee did not consider this significant.
After all, Joan and Bill were her parents.
Jamie was her brother. And Misty certainly didn’t act like her mother.
Misty had been chipper and excited as always, softly chatting and joking at the funeral while most of the others were crying. Halfway through Juliet’s poetry reading, however, Misty had abruptly risen and strode out of the hall. She had not been at the reception but appeared at the house after.
“God,” she’d said, going to Joan. “It’s not like I didn’t know it would happen, but still. I can’t believe he isn’t here. It’s just so fucking sad.”
“Shh,” Joan said. Her eyes slid toward Lee and Jamie.
“You sure you don’t want me to stay over? It’s no problem. Me and Keegan in the cottage.”
“The hotel is better for everyone,” Joan said diplomatically.
“Bridget gave me a copy of the will. I thought he might leave me our mother’s earrings, but I guess Agatha snatched those in the divorce. Not that I’m not grateful for the money. I never actually expected anything from him, you know?”
“Uh-huh,” Joan said. She made a minuscule gesture with her head to the living room, where Keegan sat, his fingers drumming an impatient beat against the side table. “Maybe you don’t tell others about it.”
“I’m not an idiot ,” Misty said.
Before she departed, Misty had brewed a noxious herbal concoction, touting its soothing powers.
Only Jamie had dared a sip (he’d said it smelled like a box of silkworms).
The full teapot sat on the counter, and Lee opened the lid.
The liquid inside was murky and brown. Lee poured herself a glass of milk instead.
As she took her first sip, Theo entered from a side door.
Lee could tell he was expecting her to yell or make a fuss, since he already had his hand out to stop her. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“Come here,” Theo said. He grinned with only half his face turned up and teeth bared—it appeared more like a grimace, on the edge of grotesque.
Now Lee did consider screaming. Then again, it had been an odd day, and she knew Theo was part of her family, though it was only recently that she’d realized Theo’s father was also her father.
Oh, the interesting things adults managed to get up to!
Lee understood she should act a certain way with Theo: polite at the very least, but also more, because they were related.
This was something Jamie would do. Jamie was considerate of other people.
But Jamie was sleeping—he had gone to bed when their mother said to.
This was something else Jamie did (follow orders).
“I’m getting a drink.” Theo reached above the fridge and opened one of the tall cabinets that historically only Bill could access. He brought down a bottle.
“What is that? How did you know to open there?”
“I used to live here, duh. There’s secret spots all over the house. Though your mom did manage to find some. I opened the one underneath the stairs and found a bunch of gross snacks from China.”
Lee was silent. She liked those snacks, the dried cuttlefish and haw flakes; she liked nearly all the food Joan purchased, and the meals she made too, except for the one with miniature sardines and eggs.
She didn’t like how there were so many little eyes, though of course Jamie always finished his plate.
Theo dropped into a crouch and stared at her. He grabbed her face with both hands.
“Ow.”
“You look like him. That’s the freaky part.
Although I suppose you are related. In your own messed-up way.
” He let go and filled a glass nearly to its rim.
He drank gloomily and silently. “Hey,” he said when Lee turned to go.
“Don’t leave.” She stopped. Her cheeks were flushed from when he’d pinched her.
Theo sank to the floor, massaging the sides of his neck. Next to him was a backpack, which he’d been wearing when he came in. “Check this out,” he said, reaching into the bag. He brought out a gun, a dark metal object that covered his palm.
“Is that real?”
“Hell yes.”
“What do you use it for?”
Theo appeared stumped. “Self-defense.” He paused. “I have a lot of enemies.”
“Oh.” Lee didn’t have any more questions. The situation in the kitchen, like at the funeral, had turned simultaneously bizarre and boring. She wondered if Theo would let her go now.
“Hey,” Theo said again. “You ever heard of Russian roulette?”
Lee pressed a toe to the floor and made a circle with her ankle. “No.”
“I first learned what it was around your age. I thought: Wow. A man who can do that is someone I want to talk to. My father would never dare, of course.”
My father, Lee thought. “How do you play?”
“I could show you,” Theo said, looking suddenly alert, “if you really want to know.”
“I don’t think I’m too interested.”
“Well, jeez,” Theo said. He put away the gun and leaned against the cabinets. He seemed a little sad about her saying no; Lee thought perhaps she’d hurt his feelings.
Lee yawned. She found she missed her father, and a swell of emotion rose. Its violence frightened her, and she pressed herself against the wall to squeeze it from her body. She dropped next to Theo on the floor. “Do you miss him?”
“No.” Theo stared ahead, hair falling into his eyes. “It’s mostly a blankness. The issue of the house has been consuming me as of late, anyway. Do you know how much it’s worth?”
“This house? The house we’re in?”
“Millions. The land alone. It strikes me as quite unfair that if he’d just changed one name in his will, all my problems would be solved, but here we are. Do you know what I’m saying?”
“Not really.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m saying Dad should have given me the house.”
“But then where would we live?”
“That’s probably what she said,” Theo whispered. Lee didn’t know who she was.
Theo had begun muttering to himself. He jammed his hand into his backpack, moving it noisily through the pockets. “It’s not her fault. It’s not her fault. You can’t blame the kid.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Ngghnnn,” Theo moaned. “Fuck. Won’t you shut up?”
“No,” Lee said obstinately.
“What if I give you a present?”
“What is it?”
“Close your eyes and open your hand.”
Lee unfurled her hand. Theo peeped at her and saw that she hadn’t fully shut her eyes. “Smart girl,” he said softly. He removed something from his bag and drew his hand level to hers.
Lee looked down. Her palm held a golden coin on which there was a woman sitting astride a lion.
“Pretty cool, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Lee agreed. The coin was cool. It had come from the collection of Louis Kincaid, the father of Theo’s ex-girlfriend Charlotte.
Louis had collected rare stamps and coins for decades (the lion was a particular favorite and worth quite a lot).
When Louis noticed his box was missing, he would immediately think of Theo, but by that point Theo and Charlotte would have already been split for a year.
“It’s shiny,” Lee added. She held it by its tip between her fingers.
“Careful. It’s worth a lot of money. I got it specifically for you.”
“No, you didn’t,” Lee guessed.
“In exchange, I want you to do something for me.”
“No.”
“Fuck. You sure do say no a lot.” Theo cradled his chin in his fingers. “Is it because you’re pretty?”
“Well—”
“You shouldn’t let it get to your head. Trust me, it only makes things more disappointing later.” Theo sighed and spun a finger in the air. “Jesus, what a trip. There are bad vibes in here. Evil energy. It’s probably what killed my dad.”
“It won’t kill my mother, though,” Lee said, alarmed.
“Noooo. Not your mother. She’s got that survival instinct, baby.”
“Or my brother.”
“Fine. But that’s why you’ve got to listen to me, agreed?”
“Agreed,” Lee said, since Theo was starting to make sense, or perhaps she was just tired.
Theo rose and went out to the backyard. He beckoned, and Lee felt she had no choice but to follow. He gestured toward the house. “Who’s inside? Bridget and Misty and the rest left, didn’t they?”
“Yeah. It’s just my mom and brother.”
“What about that lady you hang around with sometimes? Your babysitter.”
“Patty’s not my baby sitter. She helps with a bunch of stuff.”
“Well, where is she? Isn’t she usually in the guesthouse?”
“Not right now. No one’s there. I’m tired ,” Lee added. “I want to go.” She felt as if she could fall asleep while standing; though the grass was dry and poked through her slippers, she imagined it would be nice to lie down right there.
“Just one more thing. And then you can sleep however long you want.”
Theo went and Lee followed, tripping across the lawn past the pool and to the cottage.
She was surprised to see, at the cottage’s back door, the red plastic gas can normally kept in the garage.
Joan had purchased the canister, as she was paranoid about running out of gas and the sort to race to a filling station once the fuel gauge reached the half-full mark.
Theo picked up the can. “Do you know how to use this?”
“No.”
“Fuck,” Theo said. “It’s so slippery.” He placed the can between his feet and began to fuss with the nozzle, twisting and pulling.
Lee leaned against the wall of the cottage and closed her eyes.
She recalled how Bill had taught her to climb a fence, his beautiful smooth leather shoes pushing into the metal links at the park as he called to her, saying, Lee, Lee, try it, I promise it will be fine.
Everything will be fine, would I let anything happen to you?
I’m your father. I’ll be here forever. There came into the air the sharp, slightly sweet scent of gasoline Lee knew from trips to the Exxon station down the street.
She squeezed her eyes shut tighter. A smell wasn’t anything to worry about; the world often smelled strange.
Her father had too at the end. She hadn’t liked it; she was sensitive to scents.
Bill and Jamie had teased her, saying she was like an animal.
The memory was as clear as if it had just happened, as if Bill were before her right now, calling her his little fox.
She opened her eyes. It was only the dark before her, the black sky and white stars.
The smell was stronger.
The little cottage was like a fairy tale in the light. Her favorite spot inside was a nook on the second level, too high for children to sit on without fear of falling, though she had sat there plenty of times. Perhaps Theo had done the same.
Lee shoved her hands in her pockets. Her fingers touched something solid, and she brought out the coin. The metal was dull without direct light, and she had to tilt it to see its face. The woman wasn’t riding the lion, she saw, but walking alongside it.
Theo appeared from around the corner. “Up,” he said.
“Look at this lady,” Lee said, not moving.
He yanked her roughly by the arm. “Hey!” Lee exclaimed.
Theo brushed a hand through his hair; his eyes were unfocused, and he was breathing heavily. “No time to look now, all right? Just get up, pretty baby, rise and run. Run back to the house and open the front door, and then I want you to scream.”