The rest he didn’t want to say to Jared, because it would sound wildly conceited, but he hoped Shannon was telling his wife now. He thought she would, because Shannon would know both women could be erased from the world in a matter of days, or even hours. That made telling the truth imperative, if not necessarily easier.
Shan had been his best friend, and they had been lovers, but only for a few months. She had been in love with him—head over heels. That was the truth. Clint knew it now, and he supposed in the deepest corner of his heart he had known it then and chosen to ignore it because he didn’t feel the same, and couldn’t let himself feel the same. Shannon had given him the lift he needed, and he would always owe her for that, but he had not wanted to spend his life with her, had never even considered it. What they had was the bald matter of survival—his survival and hers. Shannon belonged to a life where he had been hurt and scarred and almost broken. She had convinced him to stay on the path. Once he was on it, Clint needed to keep going. She would have to find someone to help her, but it couldn’t be him, and was that cruel? Was that selfish? Yes to both.
Years after they parted, she had met a guy and got pregnant. What Clint believed was that the father of Shannon’s daughter was a man who looked a little like the boy she had been in love with as a teenager. She had borne a child who carried a tiny bit of that resemblance.
Lila came into the living room at a slow plod and stood between the couch and the TV. She looked around as if unsure where she was.
Clint said “Honey?” and Jared said “Mom?” at the same time.
She smiled wanly. “It seems that I have some apologizing to do.”
“The only thing you have to apologize for is not coming to me with this sooner,” Clint said. “For letting it fester. I’m just glad I could get hold of her. Is she still on the line?” He nodded toward the kitchen.
“No,” Lila said. “Oh, she wanted to talk to you, but I hung up on her. Not very nice, but I guess I’m still getting some residual vibration from my jealous bone. Besides, a lot of this is her fault. Giving her daughter your name . . .” She shook her head. “Idiocy. God, I’m tired.”
You had no problem taking my name, or giving it to your son, Clint thought, and not without resentment.
“The real father was some guy she met at the bar where she used to waitress. All she ever knew about him was his name, and who knows if he gave her his real one. In the story Parks told the kid, it’s you, except you died in a car crash during the pregnancy. Not that the girl will ever know any better.”
“She went to sleep?” Jared asked.
“Two hours ago,” Lila said. “Parks is only staying awake herself because of her best friend, Amber somebody. Who’s also a single mother. They practically grow on trees around here, don’t they? Everywhere, I guess. Never mind. Let me finish this stupid little story, shall I? She moved to Coughlin for a fresh start shortly after the baby was born. Claims she didn’t know you were anywhere in the area, which I don’t believe for a second. My name is in the Herald every goddam week, and as you yourself pointed out, there are no other Norcrosses in the area. She knew, all right. She’s still hoping you can work something out someday, I’d bet anything on it.” Lila’s jaws cracked open in a huge yawn.
Clint considered this ragingly unfair, and had to remind himself that Lila—raised in a comfortable middle-class home, with cheery parents and siblings out of an old 1970s sitcom—could not comprehend the nine flavors of hell he and Shannon had been through. Yes, the naming business had been neurotic behavior, no argument, but there was one thing Lila either didn’t see or didn’t want to see: Shannon had been living only a hundred and fifty miles away, and had never tried to make contact. He could tell himself it was because she’d never known he was close, but as Lila had pointed out, that was farfetched.
“The shake,” Lila said. “What about that?”
Clint told her.
“All right,” Lila said. “Case closed. I’m going to make some fresh coffee, then go back to the station. Jesus, I’m so fucking tired.”
7
When she had her coffee, Lila hugged Jared and told him to take care of Molly and the baby, and to hide them well. He promised he would, and she moved from him as quickly as she could. If she hesitated she’d never be able to leave him.
Clint followed her into the vestibule. “I love you, Lila.”
“I love you, too, Clint.” She supposed she meant it.
“I’m not angry,” he said.
“I’m glad,” Lila said, restraining herself from adding, Whoopee-ding.
“You know,” he said, “the last time I saw Shannon—years ago, but after we were married—she asked me to sleep with her. I told her no.”
The vestibule was dark. Clint’s glasses reflected the light through the window at the top of the door. Coats and hats hung on the hooks behind him, a row of abashed spectators.
“I told her no,” Clint said again.
She had no idea what he wanted her to say—good boy, maybe? She had no idea about anything.
Lila kissed him. He kissed her back. It was just lips, skin on skin.
She promised to call him when she got to the station. She went down the steps, then stopped and looked back at him. “Never told me about the pool,” she said. “Just went ahead and called a contractor. I came back one day to a hole in the yard. Happy fucking birthday.”
“I—” He stopped. What was there to say, really? That he thought she’d want it, when the truth was he wanted it?
“And when you decided to ditch your private practice? We never discussed that, either. You asked some questions, I thought maybe you were researching a paper, or something, and then, boom. Done deal.”
“I thought it was my decision to make.”
“I know you did.”
She waved a vague farewell and walked to her cruiser.
8
“Officer Lampley said you wanted to see me.”
Evie bounded to the bars of her cell so rapidly that Assistant Warden Hicks did a quick reverse two-step. Evie smiled radiantly, her black hair tumbling around her face. “Lampley is the only female officer left awake, isn’t she?”
“Not at all,” Hicks said. “There’s also Millie. Officer Olson, I mean.”
“No, she’s asleep in the prison library.” Evie continued to smile her beauty queen smile. And she was a beauty, there could be no arguing that. “Facedown on a copy of Seventeen. She was looking at the party dresses.”