39. Adele
Adele
Iwas crying. In public.
A first for me. But these days, I cried all the time, so at least this was a worthy occasion.
The whole day had been so damn beautiful. I sat in the back, unsure of how to manage the emotions of this big day and wanting to hide from the scrutiny of my brothers and my mother.
They were becoming a family. Alice, Henri, Goldie, and Tucker. Two years ago, these people didn’t know one another. And today? They were legally a unit, a team. Forever.
The entire family had driven to Bangor for the finalization hearing.
Two years after Tucker and Goldie had been placed in Alice’s care, she and Henri were now officially and irrevocably their parents.
They’d become our family the instant Alice picked them up from the police station after they’d been removed from their previous foster home, but until today, there had always been some worry, some anxiety, that it wouldn’t be forever.
And now it was.
A few rows ahead of me, my mother openly sobbed as the cranky old judge rambled through the legalese.
Henri, Alice, Tucker, and Goldie stood in front of the bench, dressed to the nines.
Tucker looked so grown up and handsome in his blue suit.
He kept fiddling with his tie, no doubt counting down the minutes until he could take it off.
He had shot up overnight and was already taller than Alice.
Henri stood next to him, his arm around his shoulders, wearing a smile bigger than any I’d ever seen from my oldest brother. The closed-off, grumpy lumberjack had finally achieved the thing he’d always wanted most. A family.
Goldie’s blond hair was carefully braided, and she was twisting her fingers in the hem of her puffy purple dress, looking up at Alice every minute or two for reassurance.
This dusty old courtroom, with its wood molding and rows of portraits of intimidating old men in robes, had never seen a crowd like this.
My entire family, as well as Alice’s sisters and parents from Massachusetts and probably half of Lovewell, were in attendance.
Bernice and Louie, Becca from the salon, the Smiths from the market, most of the faculty and staff at Alice’s school, and Father Renee. Everyone was here to share in this joy.
The sight of all these familiar faces made me miss Finn. I wanted him here on this big day, with his strong arm around my shoulders, holding me as I cried happy tears. The ache to have my person with me was overwhelming.
But we were all missing Dad today. Moreso than we had in quite a while. So as much as I hoped my family would eventually come to love and accept Finn, today was not the day to test them.
Mom brought a framed photo of him with her and propped it up on the seat beside her. He would have loved this whole process. He would have been the one taking endless photos, cracking jokes, and squeezing us all too tightly. He lived for these moments.
The second the judge declared them a family, the place erupted in cheers.
Every person in the room was shouting and hugging and dancing.
I had to wade through the crowd to get to them, and when I finally did, Henri was holding Alice while she sobbed.
Goldie was spinning around in circles, and my mother was smothering Tucker with hugs.
I squeezed Henri’s arm. “I’m proud of you.”
He looked down at me, his cheeks tearstained. The last time I’d seen him cry was at my dad’s funeral. Like me, he kept his emotions locked up tight. But he’d been evolving since he’d become a husband and father. We were all capable of growth and change.
Wrapping his arms around me, he hiccuped into my hair. “This is the best day of my life.”
I patted his back and fought back my own tears. “Love you, big brother. You’re the best dad ever.”
“I’m only trying to live up to his standards,” he said. “Dad set the bar really high.”
Aw, shit. So much for keeping the tears at bay.
That statement instantly brought a rush of sorrow mixed with elation crashing over me, and now I was sobbing again.
Because Dad was here. His presence was so palpable that I had to fight the urge to search the room for him.
Henri was right. Dad loved us with his whole heart.
He had the innate ability to somehow bend the laws of space and time to make us all feel seen and supported, even while he ran a business, helped any neighbor in need, and lent his time to any cause brought to his attention.
After hundreds of photos and lots of hugs, I headed to my car. Henri and Alice were hosting a party at their house, and the crowd was headed there.
But I needed a minute. So I sat in my car in the municipal parking lot and let the tears flow. Happy tears for the beautiful family that had been born today.
And tears for my own baby and our little family. Happiness and sadness and worry. Would my baby get this version of my family? Would they have a mother and father who were madly in love? Siblings and cousins and family dinners and summer vacations?
Or would this baby be stuck with me? Would my child be shuttled between parents who couldn’t make it work because the deck was stacked against us? Would they live their life feeling like an outsider?
And then there was Finn. He was generous and thoughtful and so much more than I had ever anticipated. He continued to surprise me every day. Why couldn’t I come clean and tell my family and the people of our little hometown? He deserved to be loved openly and publicly.
The memory of the joy that poured from him the moment I told him I was pregnant should have bolstered me, but instead, it only made me feel guilty.
Because I wasn’t sure I could give him what he wanted.
He wanted everything. But I was stuck, desperate for the happily ever after that was within my grasp but unable to move toward it.
If I’d learned one thing in the difficult years since my father’s death, though, it was that life was short and hard. We had to seize the good and hang on with both hands. Maybe I was stuck, but God dammit, I was determined to find a way to grab this happy ending by the balls.
The party lasted for hours and the happiness was contagious.
Goldie cornered me and grilled me about my plans for career day.
We still had several weeks to go, but she was not letting up.
She was sure to remind me that she’d been telling the entire third grade how cool I was.
I thanked her for the soul-crushing pressure, and in response, she shrugged, then scurried off in search of another piece of cake.
By the time I left Henri’s house, it was past nine.
Finn had texted and called a few times, but I’d typed out a quick response, telling him I was hanging out with my family.
I couldn’t talk to him right now. Emotions were running too high.
Today had thrown me for an emotional loop that would take a bit to recover from.
These pregnancy hormones were no joke. I’d gone from laughing to crying and back again in the span of minutes.
My brothers were clearly freaked out by my theatrics.
Parker, on the other hand, kept winking at me.
Instead of heading home, I drove straight to the shop. Once I unlocked the door, I turned on every light in the place. In the storage room, I pulled out the two massive plastic bins I’d used to store the braking mechanisms I’d recovered from each truck.
Last night, as Finn held me in bed, I’d told him about my dad’s truck.
How it had sat in the scrapyard for over a year before I towed it in and took it apart.
After Dad died, Henri had forbidden me from working on it in some misguided attempt to protect me.
But from the beginning, I had known, deep in my bones, that it wasn’t an accident.
The safety inspectors said driver error, but I knew better.
My dad could have driven those roads blindfolded, and he could have maneuvered a loaded truck with one hand tied behind his back.
Gagnon Lumber had been his life since he was a child.
Finn stroked my hair and praised me when I told him. “Of course you got the truck. That’s my girl.”
Once I had access to it, I spent every night going system by system, checking and inspecting every detail. When I found the slack adjuster, I knew. Of course the brakes had been tampered with. Of course it wasn’t driver error.
“You are incredible,” he had whispered into my hair as I fell asleep. “I’m so proud of you.”
We’d come full circle. Almost. I’d started this. Now my father’s killer was behind bars and an international drug trafficking operation had been shut down. Now it was time for me to end it.
Still in my dress from the ceremony, I kicked off my uncomfortable shoes and tied my hair back.
I pulled together the worktables, grateful that the workspace was spotless like always.
I’d left Estrella in charge so I could take the day off, and she’d crushed it.
The board was already updated with tomorrow’s work, and there wasn’t a single tool out of place.
I grabbed a couple of the industrial spotlights we used for outdoor jobs and dragged them inside.
I laid my dad’s slack adjuster on one table and Henri’s on the other.
Using my magnifying eyewear, I studied them over and over, examining every scratch.
Then I used my slide calipers to measure the width and depth of the scratches.
It was clear that, in both cases, a wrench had been used.
I closed my eyes and visualized how one would have tampered with the equipment.
When that didn’t lead me to an epiphany, I grabbed a few wrenches and tried to walk through why Henri’s marks were deeper on the bottom and positioned differently.
Around and around the tables I walked, studying each one carefully and comparing them. Wrench size didn’t matter. I’d already tried that test. So what was the difference here?
The direction of the striations was the most obvious variation. Could that mean…?
I picked up one of the wrenches with my left hand.
In order to loosen the slack adjuster left-handed, I’d have to hold it upside down.
Well, I’ll be damned.
This would explain the depth at the bottom. If a lefty loosened it, the scratches from the wrench would look different from the ones on my dad’s slack adjuster. And if it was held at this angle…
Shit. This was it.
I snatched my phone off the stainless-steel table and dialed Finn.
“Stretch. Come to the shop,” I rushed out “The wrench. I think I figured it out.” Without waiting for a response from him, I hung up and picked up the slack adjuster again.