Promises to Keep - Ann Tatlock [97]
“That boy tried to kill me,” Daddy said amid a hail of oaths. He wiped at his bloodied nose with the back of his hand.
“Looked to me like you were killing him,” Uncle Joe said, “and let me tell you something, little brother, that ain’t right. It ain’t right.”
That was the night Wally became permanently angry. I suppose that was the night too that Mom began to think of leaving. Daddy disappeared for a couple of days after that, and when he came back, his arms loaded with gifts, he begged for another chance, even from Wally, who refused to forgive him.
We stayed with Daddy for one more year, and then we left.
“What are you doing, Roz?”
I looked up and saw Mom standing in the doorway. She was smiling.
“I was just thinking about Wally,” I said.
“Oh?” She stepped across the room and sat beside me on the bed.
“I miss him.”
She nodded, her smile fading. “I do too.”
We were quiet a moment. Then Mom asked, “What were you thinking about?”
I looked toward the window and drew back one corner of my mouth. “I was thinking about how he used to fight with Daddy.”
When I turned back, her expression turned grave, and I saw the sadness in her eyes. “That’s not a very pleasant thing to think about, Roz. Why don’t you think about something else?”
But I didn’t want to let it go. I still had so many questions. “Is that why we moved away from Daddy?” I asked.
“That’s part of it. A big part of it, yes.”
“Because they didn’t get along very well.”
Mom sniffed at that, looking almost amused. “No, not very well, I’m afraid.”
“When Wally comes back from being a soldier, will he live with us again?”
“Well, I don’t know.” Mom cocked her head. “He’ll probably get a job and start living on his own. He’s all grown up now, you know.”
I nodded. If Wally didn’t live with us, Daddy would have less reason to get angry.
“Mom?”
“Yes, honey?”
“Did Daddy love me?”
Mom hesitated only a moment before saying, “Of course he did, Roz.”
“You know, he never got mad at me the way he got mad at Wally. He was good to me.”
Mom sat up a little straighter and looked at me a long time. “Roz,” she said finally, “we’ve talked about all this before. I know you have some fond memories of your father, but that’s all in the past. You need to leave that behind you and move on. Your father isn’t with us, but we’re still a family, just the way we are.”
“But . . .”
“But what?”
“It doesn’t feel like a real family without a father. You know, without Daddy. Are you sure we can’t ask him to come back?”
“Yes, Roz. I’m very sure.”
I thought then about my conversation with Mara, how she’d said, “I think you should tell your mom.”
“Tell her what?” I’d asked. “That Daddy’s here?”
“Yeah. I think she needs to know.”
“But Daddy said not to tell her.”
“Maybe that’s all the more reason to tell her.”
I wanted to tell her. I was aching to tell her. Daddy’s here! He’s here in Mills River. He’s promised to change. He’s promised to stop drinking and to make us a family again.
But when I looked at Mom’s eyes, the words fell apart, like ash rubbed between a thumb and a finger. I was afraid. Afraid of her reaction. Afraid of ruining Daddy’s plans. Afraid of ruining my own dreams.
And then she said something I didn’t expect. “I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell you this, Roz, but your father has moved to California.”
For a moment I was left speechless as I tried to make sense of it all. Finally I managed to whisper, “He has?”
Mom nodded.
“How do you know?”
“Uncle Joe told me. In fact, your father left Minneapolis shortly after we did. He told Joe he wanted to start over, that he might as well look for work where it’s warmer. He was tired of the winters, tired of working outdoors for months in the snow and cold. Anyway, it seems he’s accepted the fact that he’s not a part of this family anymore. You need to accept