“‘Down to a sunless sea,’” Allison said, finishing the quotation for him.
“Ah, sweet memories. A thousand of them came running back to me with those words.” He patted her face tenderly. “You are staying, aren’t you? I know a very nice young man who’d be thrilled if you did,” he said with a wink.
“You want me to stay so I can seduce Roland out of the monastery?”
“If you don’t mind,” he said. “I’d appreciate it.”
“I do mind,” she said. “That’s terrible.” She laughed despite herself.
“I love my son,” he said. “And if I have to play dirty pool to make sure he’s happy and healthy and living a good life, you bet I’ll do it.”
“What if he’s happy in the monastery?”
“He’s hiding in the monastery, punishing himself, and it kills me to know it. You really want that for him?”
“Well...no. Not unless that’s—”
“You said you remember the day I met you at Miss Whitney’s, right?”
“Right.”
“You remember that you asked me to take you home with me?”
“I remember,” she said, nodding.
“And I did, didn’t I?”
“You did, yes.”
“Well, now I’m asking you to return the favor. Stay here with us. A few more days, a week, a month.”
“You’re playing matchmaker. It’s not going to work.”
“It’s working already,” he said. “And yes, I am. Shamelessly. Allison, I do not want to die knowing my son is going to spend the rest of his life in that prison of his own making. It makes me sick to my very bones to think of it. He had a childhood that broke his heart and mine, and I’m not about to let him spend the rest of his life punishing himself for something he did as a child. This is my final wish, doll. Will you help me?”
Allison swallowed a hard lump in her throat at the sight of the tears in Dr. Capello’s eyes. He meant it. It did kill him that Roland had left the world for the monastery. How could she say no to this man, this dear old dying man who’d brought her home with him to his children’s paradise? And now she knew who’d hurt her, so there was no reason not to, right?
“This is dirty pool,” she said.
“I have no shame,” he said. “I’ll beg if I have to.”
“Fine,” she said. “I’ll stay for a few days. But just for you.”
He pulled her into his arms for a long hug.
“Just for me?” he said, his tone teasing.
“And Roland. Just a little tiny bit for Roland.”
“Just for me and Roland?” he asked.
“Oh,” she said, finally giving in. “Maybe for me, too.”
Chapter 15
A name. She finally had a name, and it was such a relief. Oliver. And now that she thought about it, really thought about it, it did make a little bit of sense. She and Oliver had never been close, not the way she was close with Roland or Thora or Kendra. Even she and Deacon played together. But Oliver... He’d come here right after Christmas her last year at The Dragon, and they’d never bonded. While sweet, he was a solitary sort. He’d sit in the same room with her and Roland as they worked on homework or watched TV, but he never interacted much with her, never joked around. When she remembered him, what she remembered was his silence, his self-imposed solitude. Lonesome even in a house full of children. At the time she thought he was merely homesick, but depression often masked itself as anger and vice versa. Was he sad when he watched her and Roland talking? Or was he seething? Oliver had been smart, very smart, always bringing home A’s from school. She could believe he was capable of planning a prank as elaborate as calling her aunt and faking her voice. It wouldn’t be hard. Cry a lot, pant and scream. Make the call quick and hang up without answering questions.
So Allison had her answer.
Mystery solved. And now she had one very good reason to stay here—she wanted to—and no reason at all to leave. She had nothing to be afraid of anymore.
So why was she still scared?
Roland, of course. She wasn’t close to being ready for another relationship. She’d been dumped all of three days ago. Staying here was a mistake. She knew it was a mistake. But it was an honest mistake because she honestly wanted to stay, especially now that she knew she was safe at her old home. At least her body was safe. When Roland smiled at her when she came back into the house on Dr. Capello’s arm, she knew her heart was in mortal peril.
For lunch Roland served comfort food—tomato soup and grilled cheese—and she let herself enjoy every bite. She was a kid again for a few minutes, safe at home with her family with nothing to worry about. Deacon skipped lunch because of work, he said. Thora, he said, desperately needed him at the glass shop.
“Can I go with you?” Allison asked him as he made a quick pass through the kitchen to steal the sandwich crust off his father’s plate.
“You want to see the shop?” Deacon asked, downing the toast in one bite.
“If no one minds,” Allison said.
“Go,” Roland said. “It’s Dad’s nap time, anyway.” He was already steering Dr. Capello out of the kitchen, his large hand on his father’s too-thin shoulder.
“See, doll?” Dr. Capello said. “That used to be my line. Never get old, Allison. Never get old.”
“I won’t, I promise,” she said, watching as Roland followed Dr. Capello up the stairs.
“Did she let you skinny-dip?” she heard Roland ask his father.
“She didn’t, damn her,” Dr. Capello said.
“Good. If you get arrested for indecent exposure, we’re leaving you in jail,” Roland said. “I love you, but nobody needs to see that.”
“You go skinny-dip,” Dr. Capello said to him. “Since I can’t.”
“I’m trying to impress Allison,” Roland said. “Cold water is no man’s friend.”
“Youth is wasted on the young.”
“And wisdom is wasted on the old since you’re clearly not using yours.”
The back-and-forth continued all the way up to the third floor. Allison’s eyes burned with unshed tears as she listened to the gruff and tender bickering between father and son. She was in danger in this house, but not from violence—unless it was the violence of her own feelings. This was a family, the one she’d wanted all her life. This was love in the rough—the coal, not the diamond. There was nothing pretty about a dying man leaning on a son who can’t save him though he’d give his right arm to do so. Allison felt warmth all the way to her core. This moment was everything she ever wanted from McQueen but never got because she’d never asked. Allison hastily wiped a tear from her cheek but it was too late. She’d been caught in the act.
“Pathetic,” said Deacon. Allison turned and saw him standing in the kitchen doorway shaking his head.
“I know,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “But they’re so cute.”
“They’re terrified,” Deacon said. “And they’re hiding it from each other.”
That brought Allison back down to earth.
“It’s so hard to believe,” she said. “He’s thin. He’s old. But he seems okay.”
“Dad’s doctor told us kidney failure was a ‘gentle’ death. That’s the word she used. Gentle. Gentle for who? The doctors? We don’t want him in pain. But if he were suffering, at least we could tell ourselves dying would be a relief for him. A release from the pain, I guess. This way it feels like he’s being stolen from us.” Deacon looked past her as if he was too raw to make eye contact. “Remind me to die fast. I don’t want anyone knowing it’s coming. Not even me. Basically I want to be murdered. And I want it to make the news. National news. Postmortem dismemberment is a bonus.”
“Which member?” Allison asked.
“Lady’s choice. I assume it’s a woman killing me. Thora, most likely.”
It seemed it wasn’t just Roland and Dr. Capello hiding their fears behind jokes.
“Well,” Allison said, “best of luck with that.”
“Thanks, sis. Ready?”
“Not quite.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out the key chain can of spray he’d given her. She knew who’d hurt her. She didn’t need it anymore. That she and Deacon could joke around like old times was proof she trusted him.
He raised his eyebrow but didn’t take the spray out of her hand.