Grave Secret - Charlaine Harris [61]
Overkill, I thought.
“Dad,” Mark mumbled, like he was seventeen again. “You tried to keep us together.”
“I did,” Matthew said. “But my addictions got in the way.”
I tried very hard not to roll my eyes. Drama 101. Tolliver was watching Matthew confess—yet again—and his face was unreadable. There were still times when I couldn’t tell what Tolliver was thinking, and right now was definitely one of those times. He might be softening toward his father, or he might be planning how to kill him. At the moment, I would vote for the killing.
“Please, Tolliver, give me a chance to get to know you again,” Matthew pleaded.
There was a long silence. Mark said, “Tol, you remember when Gracie got so sick? You remember, Dad took her to the hospital? And the doctors gave her antibiotics and she came home so much better?”
I’d forgotten about that. It had been a long time ago. Gracie had been very little, maybe only four months old. How old had I been? Fifteen? It had been hugely embarrassing to have a baby sister, I remembered, because that was plain evidence that my mother and her husband were actually having sex.
It’s amazing what can embarrass you at fifteen.
I knew something about babies by then, because we’d already had the care of Mariella. My mother had been a little better when our first half sister was born, though, and she’d done at least some of the everyday care. We’d been able to leave Mariella with her during the school day, for example. That was out of the question when Gracie was born, underweight and sickly. Why they didn’t take Gracie away from Mom in the hospital, I don’t know. We had almost prayed that someone would take the baby or that Mom would come to her senses and give Gracie up for adoption.
Neither of those things had come to pass. So Cameron and I had taken turns babysitting for other families, and the boys had earned money, and Matthew had chipped in, too. We’d been able to take the girls to day care while we were out of the house.
Then Gracie, who’d always had trouble with her breathing, had gotten really bad. I couldn’t remember much about it, except being scared. We’d been so impressed that Matthew had taken her to the hospital.
“Are you saying I should make friends with Dad because one time, one time, he acted like a real father?” Tolliver said, and I let myself exhale. He wasn’t fooled.
“Oh, Tolliver.” Matthew shook his head, grief written in big letters on his face. “I’m trying to stay straight, son. Don’t harden your heart against me.”
It took everything I had not to speak, but I was proud that I could hold my tongue. For a second, my heart went to my throat, because I thought I detected a weakening in Tolliver’s face. “Goodbye, Mark. Dad. Thanks for coming by,” he said, and I breathed out a silent sigh of relief.
The two visitors looked at each other, then at me. They obviously wanted me to leave the room, but I wasn’t going to do it. After a moment, they could tell I was staying put.
Matthew said, “If you need our help transferring Tolliver to the hotel, just call Mark’s number and leave a message, Harper. We’ll be glad to do whatever we can.”
I nodded.
Mark said, “I’m sorry we can’t all . . .” His voice trailed off miserably. “Jeez, I wish you two could forgive and forget.”
I found this incredible. I had no response to make to my stepbrother, but I had something to say to my stepfather. “I learned some of the basic lessons of my life under your neglect, Matthew. I don’t hate you, but I’m sure not going to forget. That would be under the category of really, really stupid.”
Matthew looked directly at me, and for a second I saw his undisguised dislike before he pulled the repentant mask back over his true face.
“I’m sorry you feel that way, Harper,” he said smoothly. “Son, you’ll be in my prayers.”
Tolliver looked at him silently. Then his father and his brother turned and left the room.