“Come out here,” I said.
I thought he might hesitate, but he stepped out of the house quickly, followed me down the steps, and stood across from me on the front walk. He took off his hat and held it in his hands. It struck me as strangely polite, considering the circumstances.
“You know me,” I said, more of a statement than a question.
“Yeah, I mean, yes, sir.”
I studied him. He was a boy, about Jess’s age, I guessed. I wondered how he’d gotten himself into this mess.
“And you know why I’m here?”
He nodded, his cheeks coloring.
“I meant to come talk to you. I mean, I should’ve come to talk to you,” he said.
If it’d been Finn standing in front of me admitting to stealing my catch, I don’t think I could’ve stopped myself from lunging at him, but this was just a kid, half my size. And he didn’t give the impression that running away was an option. It struck me as too easy, too cordial, this confrontation.
I’d expected teeth knocked out, possibly even mine. I’d been itching for it, to let go of everything, funnel the past year out of me, through my fist and straight into Finn’s face. Now this kid with his wide eyes and baby face was standing here instead of Finn, offering up some sort of apology?
“You’re lucky I have a kid your age, because my first instinct is to knock your block off.”
He took a step back and folded his arms across his chest, a look of distaste appeared on his face, and then left just as quickly, as if he knew enough to hide it. But I saw it, and it fueled me.
I stepped closer to him. “Does that surprise you? You look surprised.”
He stepped back again. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“I mean; I know you deserve an explanation.”
“An explanation? You think that’s what I’m here for?”
“And an apology,” he said quickly. “I mean, that goes without saying.”
I felt my neck tense. He seemed to sense that he was making things worse, and he backed up another step, until he was standing several feet away from me on the small patch of grass that pretended to be a front lawn.
“Look, Mr. Kelly. I know I was wrong, but . . .”
“Wrong?” I took a step forward and grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him to me. Not hard, but enough that he tripped forward a step.
“Whoa,” he said, his eyes wide and his arms in the air, palms outstretched.
“Stand up,” I told him. I gave him a frustrated shake, and dropped his shirt.
“I was standing,” he said, a look of disbelief on his face, “before you dragged me over to you.”
“You’re lucky I’m not dragging you down the street by your neck, you little shit. That was mine, what you took,” I said. “Wrong doesn’t even come close to describing it. Around here, people die for doing what you did.”
He looked bewildered, which made me even angrier.
“What the hell did you think was going to happen when I found out?” I asked. “A slap on the wrist?”
I grabbed him by the collar again, his shirt bunched in my fist. He didn’t resist, just kept his hands at his sides, making it clear he was going to let me beat him to a pulp without defending himself.
“I didn’t take anything,” he said quietly.
“What?”
“It wasn’t like that.” He shook his head at me, and gave me a look that suggested I’d let him down in some way.
I let go of his shirt and stepped away. “What the hell are you talking about?”
His face was as red as the Sox cap on the ground. “Look, I don’t know why you’d think that. But I promise there was no . . . taking . . . I mean doing . . . with Jess,” he stammered and then stopped, looked me in the eye. “Whatever you think happened didn’t. Not even close.”
I squinted at him. “Did you just say Jess?”
He looked at me sideways. “Um, yeah.”
“Jess, as in Jessica? My daughter?” I asked, dumbfounded.
He nodded slowly, as if now he wasn’t so sure either.
“You’ve got two seconds to talk.”
“I don’t know what to say.” His words came out fast, desperate. “I’m sorry Jess is upset—it was my fault. And I was going to say sorry to you and Mrs. Kelly—I promised my mother I would apologize for not introducing myself to you, but I only got home last night . . .”
His words swirled around my head, clogging my ears, blocking the air from my nose. I blinked at the kid. He was standing in front of me, but he seemed to be getting farther and farther away.
I bent over, put my hands on my knees, felt a tightness in my chest.
“Mr. Kelly? You all right?” I heard him say from miles away.
I felt his hand on my back, then his arm on my elbow, leading me to the front steps. I sat down heavily, leaned against the railing.
“Shit,” I heard the kid whisper.
The pain in my back had turned sharp, searing, and the air seemed to be thick and cumbersome. The roaring in my head was back, as if that train that ran through their backyard had suddenly rolled in and taken a left turn straight through my skull. I tried to stand, but my legs gave way until I was sitting back on the step. I blinked and forced myself to take a deep breath, and the kid’s face came into focus. He was on one knee in front of me, a cell phone in his hand.
“Mr. Kelly. Should I call for help?”
I shook my head, stood up on wobbly legs, sat back down again.
“Um, I think I should. You don’t look good.”
“Stop talking,” I said, rocking slowly back and forth. I breathed in deep, tried to block out the noise, tried to get my heart to return to its normal pace.
“Who are you?” I whispered.
“Alex Chester. Peggy’s son.”
I opened one eye, took in the slim build, the darker skin tone, not one feature resembling Finn. I heard Hope’s voice from the other night talking about Peggy, and Jess, and some kid I didn’t know. I remember she’d said, Are you awake? It’s important.
“Chester? Finn’s not your father?”
“Stepfather. Well, for now.” He glanced up at the house. “He’s not living here anymore,” he said.
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know. He came by earlier, but he left. He’s probably on his boat. He keeps it on the waterfront. Not far from your boat.”
“You’ve been on my boat?”
“No . . . I’ve seen it, that’s all.” His face went red again.
“You’re sure about that?”
“I’m positive. We sat at the slip when you were gone, and I’ve seen you motor in and out, but we never went on the boat. You can ask Jess.”
“Right,” I said, “Jessica.”
“Mr. Kelly,” he said, “I’m not sure what you want me to say.”
“I came here for Finn. I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about with Jessica. When you apologized, I assumed it was for stealing from my traps.”
He let out a long breath. Then he bent and put his hands on his knees, breathed out.
“Jesus,” he said. “I thought you thought . . . you know, that something happened with me and Jessica. I mean, something more than what happened.”
“Tell me what he said when he was here. Finn. Where was he going?”