He chuckles softly, but I can hear the pain behind it. “I think you’re right.”
I decide to change the subject. “I’ve been thinking and I might have an idea to remedy our situation.”
“What situation is that?” The warmth is back in his voice and I feel for the first time all weekend like I’ve accomplished something.
“The one where I mortally embarrassed myself in front of you and you have yet to do anything embarrassing in front of me.”
“Mortally?” He sounds amused by the word.
“Yes, mortally.” I tug on a piece of my hair. “It’s a chasm. We aren’t on equal ground.”
His tone has a bit of an edge when he speaks again. “Just stick around. I’m sure to even us out at some point.”
I shake my head even though he can’t see me. “No. I’m too impatient. We need to fix it now.”
“Okay.” Jordan seems like he’s trying to sound reluctant. He’s not pulling it off. “What sort of embarrassment did you have in mind?”
I’m surprised he caved this easy and I don’t have an answer yet. “I’m—working on it.”
“Well, be sure to give me fair warning once you figure it out.” Then there’s a huge crash in the background like ten pots and pans being dropped on the floor. I jump and sit straight up at the sound.
“Matthew! Stop getting into the cupboards!” Jordan calls. He curses softly. I hear the thud of footfalls and it sounds like Jordan is running across the house. Finally, he sighs. “I’m sorry. I think I need to go. Talk tomorrow?”
“Sure.”
We say goodbye and hang up. I’m left on my bed, staring at my phone and already missing the distraction. When it’s your family, your life, and everything you’ve ever known that you don’t want to deal with, it’s so much harder to run away. With a groan, I pick up Daddy’s letter and start reading again.
*
By Monday, Mama has gone back to work and I’m going crazy just sitting around and accomplishing nothing. I keep thinking that maybe a visit with Daddy isn’t the only way to find answers. Actually, now that I know I can’t trust Daddy not to lie, it’s probably better to find some other way to verify whatever he tells me. As difficult a task as it may be, I have to find some way to know for sure that he’s telling the truth.
If only I could figure out how to do that.
I move to my laptop with an open can of Coke and a few pieces of red licorice. Closing my eyes, I try to gather the little strength I have left. I’ve done a handful of online searches about Daddy’s case in the past. I usually can’t get through more than the first article before I feel sick and end up closing the browser. It isn’t easy, seeing people say such awful things about my father. Back then I did it because of morbid curiosity. Now it’s out of necessity.
If he’s innocent, then we must still fight.
If he’s guilty, then I’d rather know now. And with only twenty-four days left until his execution, I can’t afford to waste any more time without at least trying to find out for myself.
My phone dings next to me and I pick it up. I’d honestly expected Jordan to run when he found out way too much about me in just one night. Instead, he’s done the opposite. It’s like my secret connected us in some way that I don’t understand. It makes me both nervous and hopeful. My biggest secrets are all out with him, so I’ve been able to talk about my whole family freely. He’s told me about his mom’s car accident and how hard it’s been on them. I’m not sure what it says about him that he hasn’t run from me.
I just know that I really like having him only a text away.
Jordan: You have any plans tonight?
My smile widens as I respond:
Since I decided to ditch my alcohol friend from Friday night … No.
Jordan: Good choice. Want to hang out with me instead? I can’t promise to dull the pain from all the crap you’re going through in the same way, but I can try very hard not to make you sick by the end of the night.
Me: Ha ha, don’t remind me. What do you want to do?
Jordan: Let’s meet at the Galaxy Café again, but this time the one in the Valley Vista mall by your house. Does 7 work?
Me: Yep! See you there!
I put down my phone, wondering for a second whether Jordan thinks this is an actual date, before I decide it doesn’t matter.
He’s funny, really cute, and he wants to spend time with me. That’s all I need to know right now.
Time to start my personal research. I take a breath and remind myself that I am doing this for me, for the truth. Popping a piece of licorice in my mouth, I open my laptop and type Daddy’s name into the search engine. The first article that pops up makes my stomach clench: “Perfect Gentleman to Vicious Murderer?”
I take a deep breath and scan through that article first. It talks about his happy home life and successful law practice. Then it poses some theories about what could have turned Daddy into a murderer.