“Maybe, if you hadn’t sent that picture to Sarah, and she hadn’t pointed out the resemblance, we wouldn’t be doing this,” Dad said. “But I’m not blaming you. This always stood the chance of coming out.”
I spooned some sugar into my coffee, poured in some cream.
“Let’s wait till Orville’s here,” Lana said.
“Sure,” said Dad. “But I just want you to understand, Zack, that yeah, part of what you’ve suspected is true. You and Orville, you’re, well, you’re sort of related.”
“Sort of related,” I said.
Lana sat down.
“But I’m not Orville’s father.”
Wait a minute, I thought. This was how it was going to go? They were going to start with denials? I cocked my head. “Well, hang on. Then—”
“And Lana here, Lana is not Orville’s mother.”
I’d only been sitting down for a minute, and already I was getting a headache. What kind of cock-and-bull story had the two of them concocted? Here they were, years later, boffing their brains out in Dad’s cabin, and they thought I was going to believe that they weren’t up to the same thing years ago?
What other possible explanation could there be?
There was a rapping at the door.
“That must be Orville,” Lana said, and got up to see. She opened the door, and said, “Oh, hello.”
I looked around. It was not Orville.
It was Timmy Wickens. This is it, I thought. We’re all going to die.
“Won’t you come in?” Lana said, and Timmy did. He nodded courteously at Lana, my father, and then at me.
“Good day,” he said. “Is the other gentleman around?”
“Lawrence?” I said.
“I believe so. The, uh, the black gentleman.”
“I’ll go get him,” I said, and bolted. I found Lawrence in the cabin, examining the rest of his surveillance equipment. “It’s Timmy,” I said. “Wants to see you.”
“Okey doke,” Lawrence said, closing the case.
“Aren’t you going to get your gun? You’re gonna bring a gun, right?”
Lawrence brushed past me on the way out, walked over to Dad’s cabin, and stepped inside. Timmy nodded at him when he came in, although he didn’t offer a hand to shake.
“I believe,” said Timmy, “that my boys may have caused a bit of a kerfuffle here a few minutes ago.”
Dad and Lana looked questioningly at all of us. Had they missed something?
Lawrence and I said nothing. Timmy continued. “Anyway, I’d just like to offer my apologies on their behalf.”
Now Lawrence and I really had nothing to say. “Sometimes,” Timmy said, “they get a little carried away, and I suspect that’s what happened.” He looked right at Lawrence. “That was very thoughtful of you, getting those toys for my grandson.”
Lawrence nodded.
“Anyway, I’m sorry if I interrupted anything here.” And he did a little bow, and let himself out.
Lawrence and I looked at each other. “What do you make of that?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I think it’s bad news.”
“Hold on,” Dad said. “The man apologizes and you think it’s bad news? What the hell happened, anyway?”
“Why bad?” I asked.
“He doesn’t want to rock the boat,” Lawrence said. “Because he’s already up to something, and he doesn’t want to screw it up. He wanted to smooth this over so it wouldn’t mess up his other plans.”
“Is anyone going to tell us what the hell you’re talking about?” Dad asked.
Before either of us could reply, there was another knock at the door.
Orville Thorne had arrived.
The four of us were seated at the table. Lawrence had excused himself. Orville was annoyed before a single word had been said. It might have been for the reason he gave, that he was very busy hunting down Tiff Riley’s killer. But I suspected it had more to do with the fact that he was having to sit at the same table with me.
And I was thinking, I know something you don’t know.
But then again, how much did I know, really? Dad and Lana had turned my assumptions upside down when they claimed not to be Orville’s parents. But Dad had still said we were “sort of related.” How could that be?
“Aunt Lana,” he said, “whatever this is about, could we make it quick?”
She pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Up to now, I hadn’t even known she smoked. She lit one, took a long drag on it, and blew the smoke out. “We might as well start there, Orville,” she said. “There’s a lot of things that you don’t know, that I haven’t explained to you. And the first thing is, I’m not, I’m not technically your aunt.”
Orville shook his head. “What do you mean, you’re not my aunt? What’s that supposed to mean? Is this a joke?”
My thoughts exactly.
“Your uncle Walter, my dear husband, he, he wasn’t your uncle, either.”
“What in the hell are you talking about? Why are we talking about this? And whatever it is, why are you talking about it in front of these two?”
“Because it involves them,” Lana said gently.