Chapter 22 #3
“Like, how Scott’s constant interruptions during Tara’s hour were detrimental to what they, Mr. and Mrs. Prim, were paying to achieve.
He was a spoiled brat accustomed to attention, and he felt no need to respect his sister’s learning time.
Josey mentioned in a roundabout kind of way that an hour a week isn’t a lot, and how she’d love to have undisturbed time with each of the twins.
” She shakes her head. “They heard her, but applied it only to Scott’s time.
They changed their dinner routine so as not to disrupt his hour in the dining room, but had no problem interrupting Tara’s.
Josey used to say Geoffrey Prim had a head so large, she was surprised he could fit it through a standard-sized door.
” She exhales a watery laugh. “Not to them, of course. Just to me. When I asked what she meant, she said he never shut up about his football days or how Scott would follow in his footsteps. There was one time Tara did particularly well in school, she even received a special certificate for it, and she wanted to show Josey, but before she could get more than a few words out, Geoffrey interrupted her to talk about Scott’s accomplishments.
Even Rhonda would get in on it sometimes.
They considered themselves quite the superior breeders.
” Again, she snickers. “That’s what Josey said.
Superior breeders. Because the dad was a football star all through high school, and the mom ran track.
Ribbons and trophies and newspaper articles were always near enough for them to pull out at a moment’s notice, because God forbid Tara have one, itty-bitty, little thing to celebrate without someone else speaking over her. ”
“This is helpful,” Drake rumbles. “Thank you, Ms. Ryan. Is there anything else you can think of? Anything about the dining room she sat in? The living room she walked through? Much of that house was open plan, so she would’ve had a clear view of the kitchen and front door while she sat at the table.
I know it’s difficult searching for these things, because it feels like you’re looking for something invisible.
A single hair on a head full of them. But maybe Josey came home one day and mentioned…
?” He trails off, allowing silence to pulse amongst us. “Anything at all?”
“She said she wished Rhonda would divorce Geoff and split the family straight down the middle. Scott could go with his dad, since they thought so highly of themselves and each other, and Tara could go with her mom, which still wasn’t a perfect solution, considering Rhonda was Team-Scott in basically everything anyway.
But maybe if Scott were with his dad and Rhonda had a chance to focus less on the guys all the time, she might be better for her daughter.
” She brings swollen eyes back up to us.
“She said they slipped one time, Rhonda and Geoff. That they were always careful to appear like the perfect family, but Geoff came home from work one day while the girls were at the table. A minute after that, Scott arrived home too. The house had been quiet before that, but the instant they walked through the door, everything turned to chaos. Rhonda had been preparing dinner, and Geoffrey wanted a drink or something from the fridge. Scott immediately started complaining that he was hungry, so both of them stomped around the kitchen and made a mess. Geoffrey had some important thing going on that night, a work thing, and was pissed because his shirt wasn’t ironed yet. ”
She reaches across and carefully strokes the bridge of Josey’s nose.
“She said those words. That he was pissed, and it really stuck with her, because in our home, we were big on doing things for ourselves. She said ‘he has two hands and a heartbeat, Mom. He could’ve ironed his own damn shirt.’”
“He expected Rhonda to get it done?” Archer murmurs. “While she was cooking. While Tara was having her session with Josey.”
“Yes. He was picking fights with Rhonda, arguing and acting like she was lazy even though she’d been at work all day, too. He went to the laundry room and grabbed the ironing board. The iron. Jose said she was kinda stressed, because her forensics brain had her thinking worst-case scenarios.”
“Like he might brain his wife with the iron?” I question.
Four sets of eyes come up and stop on my face.
“Sorry. I have a forensic brain, too. While you were telling that story, I saw it in my mind. Him throwing it at her or something.”
She nods. “Exactly. He didn’t throw it at anyone, but he slammed it and the ironing board onto the counter and messed up the dinner Rhonda was preparing.
She was still worried about appearances, I guess, because her eyes instantly went to Josey’s.
She was embarrassed. She faked a smile and hurriedly wiped up the mess he’d made.
Meanwhile, he grabbed his drink and shouted some more about how ironing wasn’t his responsibility, since she insisted on buying a board that didn’t work properly anyway. ”
Drake’s brows come closer together. “How does an ironing board work, except to stand there and provide a flat surface to iron on?”
She shrugs. “Something about how it folds and unfolds. Tara whispered that he always used it as an excuse for why he never had to iron, but then she kinda did what Rhonda does: smiled and pretended her family wasn’t a complete mess.
She brought Josey’s attention back to their textbooks, Scott and his dad went to the living room and watched football, and Rhonda finished dinner and ironed his shirt. Tara never brought it up again.”