Dreamspinner Press Year Four Greatest Hits

by Felicia Watson

  “What you put over ‘both our heads’ was violence and fear,” Nick insisted bitterly.

  “So truth comes out,” Sam sneered. “That’s what you came here for. You waited twenty years so you could sit there and tell me how I ruined your life.”

  The last few words had been spoken with a sarcastic whine that wormed its way under Nick’s skin. He leaned forward and glared into his father’s bloodshot eyes. “No. Not anymore.” Suddenly the truth crystallized for Nick. “I came to tell you I’m not going to let you do that anymore.” He stabbed an accusing finger across the table. “It was your decision, your doing, and your fault. You did ruin her life—and yours. Over a fucking stupid hammer that probably cost less than the carton of cigarettes you’ve got back in your cell.”

  The mocking, arctic laugh that erupted out of Sam was one of the ugliest sounds Nick had ever heard. “Jesus Christ, is that what you think? You still believe that fucking hammer story? Now how ’bout some blame for your mom,” Sam jibed. “Never once in all these years tellin’ you the truth.”

  Nick swallowed hard and stared at his father, desperately trying to figure out the old man’s game. Whatever it was, he decided not to play. He offered coolly, “If there’s any truth about that day that I don’t already know, it’s thanks to your handiwork that Mom wasn’t… isn’t capable of telling me.”

  Sam leaned back, taking an indolent drag off his cigarette before saying, “It wasn’t the hammer, kid. It was the suitcase.”

  “What? What suitcase?”

  “I caught her. Packin’. She was gonna leave me—and you.” Sam shrugged and looked over Nick’s shoulder, eyes slightly unfocused. He appeared to be fighting a losing battle to seem untouched by the memory, since each word he offered was laced with more poisonous anger than the last. “I made ’er unpack it all; stood there and watched to make sure she done it. But she said she’d do it again soon’s my back was turned. Said I couldn’t watch her all the time.” Suddenly Sam leaned forward and coldly confessed, “That’s when I done it, you know. That hammer I’d picked up outta the yard just happened to be handy.”

  The anger that boiled up in Nick was more for that nonchalant admission than the realization that he’d been living under the strain of a malicious lie for most of his life. “Why the fuck did you say—”

  “That story me an’ my lawyer cooked up? He said it’d look less ‘premeditated’ that way.” Sam snorted bitterly. “Lotta good it done me.”

  Venomously, Nick shot back, “I can tell how sorry you are about what you did to my mother.”

  “I never said I was sorry. What kind of man lets his wife leave ’im?”

  “The kind of man who… is a man….” Nick shook his head. “There’s no use even trying to explain it to you.” He rose to leave and looked down at his still seated father. “So… goodbye, Sam. Oh, and when you get out? Don’t look me up.”

  Sam stood up and put his hands on his hips. “Thanks for nothin’, kid.”

  Nick turned to leave without another word, feeling freer with every step he took out of that room and away from the man who had been, on the merest biological technicality, his father. On the drive home, he veered off the road that led to his house and turned the Jeep towards the nursing facility where his mother lay slowly dying. Visiting hours were almost over, but the receptionist buzzed him through without comment.

  He walked softly into the room where only the shallow rising and falling of his mother’s chest told him that he wasn’t too late. Nick sat down by her bed and took the cold, bony hand that lay on top of the blanket into his own strong, warm grasp. As he started to methodically rub her fingers, he saw his mom’s eyes drift open. “Nick,” she croaked.

  “Hey, Mom. How’re you doing?” When Agnes’s only response was a fretful shake of her head, Nick brought the frail hand to his cheek and whispered, “I came to tell you how proud—” His voice cracked as he felt tears well up. Slowly and with great effort, he tried again. “How proud I am of you—for leaving that son of a bitch.”

  Nick’s statement seemed to rouse his mom, and she turned her watery, unfocused eyes on him. “I was gonna go back for you, Nicky. I wasn’t gonna leave you—”

  “I know, Mom. You did—you did come back for me—don’t you remember? That’s why I’m here now.”

  Agnes’s brow crinkled in confusion. “I did?” When Nick nodded at her, she managed a weak smile as she whispered to herself, “I did… of course, I did. I wouldn’t leave my boy… not for long….” She smiled again at Nick and managed to brush away one of his tears. “Don’t cry, son. We’re both safe. We’re gonna be all right, now.”

  “Yeah… we sure are.” Her eyes closed again, and Nick’s whispered “Mom” failed to wake her. He stood up and leaned down to kiss her, saying softly, “Good night. I love you, Mom.”

  By the time Nick parked in front of his house, he was able to calmly think back on his conversation with his father and feel some gratitude that at least one of the Zales men had gotten something out of the visit.

  Epilogue:

  One River

  And see the confluence of dreams

  That clashed together in our night

  One river born of many streams

  Roll in one blaze of blinding light.

  —George William Russell

  NICK WAS reviewing his schedule for the day when he heard a soft knock on the doorframe of his office. He looked up to find Trudy standing there. Her normally sunny expression was clouded by serious brown eyes, and her head was cocked as she studied him in an obvious display of concern. Though he knew it was a slightly irrational response, Nick was irked. He was thoroughly sick of concern and sympathy, so he attempted to derail Trudy by extending an airily cheerful greeting. “Hey, boss lady, what’s up?”

  Trudy entered the room and seated herself across from Nick, answering, “I didn’t expect to see you here so early today.”

  His first impulse was to feign ignorance, but he immediately discarded that idea as futile. Finally resigned to the inevitable discussion, he said, “I guess you never been to one of those interments?”

  “No, no one in my family has ever been cremated.”

  “It takes all of twenty minutes. Including the trip to the cemetery.”

  “I thought there would be some sort of service—”

  Nick leaned forward in his chair and interrupted, “We had the memorial on Monday, remember? I know you do. With all the food you and Larry brought, Logan and I will be eating leftovers for weeks.”

  “Still, for all intents and purposes, Nick, you buried your mother today. There’s no reason to rush back—”

  No longer able to contain his growing frustration, Nick snapped, “I didn’t—” He managed to stop himself and took a cleansing breath before starting over. “Look, I buried my mother a long time ago. Today was just a formality.”

  “I understand.” Trudy reached over the desk and put a gentle hand on his arm. “I just don’t want you to feel like you have to block out your grief.” Her gaze grew more searching as she continued, “We both know you have a habit of acting more okay than you really are.”

  The exasperation Nick felt was swamped by Trudy’s genuine anxiety for his well-being. Besides, it was impossible for him to argue against her last point. “You’re right, but… for one thing, I’m getting better about that, and for another, I really don’t think that’s what’s going on with me. I’m actually okay.”

  Though Trudy was nodding in apparent agreement, she asked, “And why is that?”

  In order to give an honest answer, Nick was forced to give her question some thought. As difficult as it was to articulate his multi-layered feelings about his mother’s passing, he finally said, “I guess because it ended better… better than I could have hoped.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “She died in peace, Trudy.”

  “Because of what you found out at Fayette County Prison?”

  “Yes.” Nick’s eye
s shifted to his desktop as he briefly recalled his mother’s final days. “I think that was a lot of it, what I told her after I saw my father.”

  “So you’re glad you went to see him?”

  “Some good came of it,” he acknowledged reluctantly. “Yeah, I’m glad.” Nick looked up and caught Trudy’s fleeting smile. “And if you’re waiting for me to admit that I put if off for way too long—”

  “I wasn’t going to say that!”

  “Oh, you were thinking it.”

  Though she shook her head in a silent rebuke, Trudy said, “I’m not going to argue about this with you, but I am glad you finally learned the truth.”

  “Yeah, me too. There’s still a part of me that can hardly believe it. I never would have thought she had it in her to—well, you know.”

  “It’s a hazard of our business, I think. We learn so much about reading people and about patterns of behavior that we sometimes forget that people can still surprise us.”

  A sheepish smile crept across Nick’s face as he offered, “Meaning we can’t know everything—about anyone.”

  “Exactly. You didn’t know the truth about your mother, I couldn’t hear the truth about Logan… and neither of us will ever really know what happened to Norah.”

  Though seven months had passed, that memory was still too raw and bitter for Nick to accept any comfort on that score. “Oh, come on! I think we know exactly what happened to Norah.”

  “Some. We know she met up with Alex, we know he killed her. But we sure don’t know what went on between those two events. Like why she met him—was she attempting to re-kindle the relationship, or was she perhaps seeking closure?” When Nick shook his head in vigorous disagreement, Trudy raised a placating hand. “Think about it. The most dangerous time for any victim is when they try to leave. It was true for your mom; maybe it was true for Norah.”

  Nick forced himself to consider Trudy’s words and once again found himself unable to argue the point. “Maybe. At the very least, I guess you’re right. We’ll never know for sure.” Seeing Trudy’s triumphant smile, he joked, “If you’re done spreading your irrefutable wisdom, I really do have work to catch up on.”

  Rather than budging, Trudy leaned back, insinuating herself more comfortably into his guest chair. She regarded him silently with a raised eyebrow for a second before saying in her more familiar, commanding tone, “Actually, since you’re so ready to get back to work—”

  “I don’t like the sound of this already.”

  Trudy completely ignored his interruption as she continued smoothly, “I have an assignment I’d like you to take on.”

  Nick found it impossible to keep the wince off his face as he protested, “Not another client?”

  “Nope. A summer intern. A green kid from the pysch program at Pitt.”

  “Sounds familiar,” Nick answered with a smirk. “Also sounds like a major pain in the ass.”

  “They usually are,” Trudy agreed. “You’ll do it?”

  “Ummm….”

  While Nick was still furiously attempting to come up with a deflection, Trudy rose gracefully to her feet, saying, “Good. She starts Monday.”

  “Monday!”

  “What? That gives you three days, plus the weekend if you need it, to prepare.”

  Nick laughed resignedly. “Plenty of time.”

  “I knew you’d see it my way.”

  As his boss reached the doorway, Nick called, “Trudy?” When she turned back towards him, he asked, “Some of these interns—they work out, don’t they?”

  Her smile softened as Trudy answered firmly, “Yeah, one in particular did. He worked out pretty damn well.”

  THAT FRIDAY afternoon found Logan humming tunelessly as he searched for a spot in the downtown parking lot located on Commonwealth Place. Fully aware that it was after six p.m. and Nick was probably cooling his heels at their appointed meeting spot, Logan quickly pulled into the first vacant slot he found. He remembered to snag the heavy brown paper bag off the passenger’s seat before hopping out of the truck and making a beeline for his destination: the main entrance of Pittsburgh’s famous Point State Park.

  Logan’s general contentment was slowly building to elation at the thought of the evening he had planned for Nick, though a slight sense of foolishness marred his happiness. He couldn’t quite shake the feeling that this was a lot of trouble for one guy to go to for another—not only closing up the shop early but spending thirteen dollars for parking and twenty-five more for the food and drinks lurking in his bag. Especially since Nick always seemed perfectly content with their usual Friday night plans: delivery pizza and Iron City beer wolfed down in front of ESPN.

  Sure never went to this kind of trouble for Linda, Logan mused. As quickly as that reflection had come, Logan attempted to discard it. In their last few weeks of counseling, Trudy had told him several times that unless it was possible to channel his remorse into some positive action, feeling guilty about what he’d been unable to give Linda during their marriage didn’t do her any good.

  ’Sides, Linda sure seems to be movin’ on with her life, taking up with that Bill fellow an’ that. With that thought, Logan managed to dodge the negativity trying to weigh him down as he darted around yet another construction barrier. He’d been warned that most of the park was still under renovation as part of a massive multi-year project to spruce the place up. The news hadn’t deterred him, since Point State Park was a place that Nick had spoken of with wistful fondness several times. Logan hoped a visit to the park might do his uncharacteristically somber boyfriend some good.

  The park was located at the very tip of Pittsburgh’s so-called “Golden Triangle” and marked the spot where the Allegheny River joined with the Monongahela to form the Ohio River. In sight of this confluence, there was an iconic fountain, and Logan had initially suggested it as an obvious place to rendezvous. However, Nick had assured him that there would be an inevitable crush of people around that desirable spot on a balmy Friday night in May, and he’d proposed the reflecting pool as a better option.

  There was still a decent-sized group of people in evidence when Logan arrived at the pool, but he quickly spotted Nick’s dark head bent over his cell phone. He crept up on his man as quietly as possible before startling him from behind with a booming, “Can’t leave that damn thing alone for a second, can you?”

  Nick whirled around and bestowed a sparkling laugh and brilliant smile on Logan while retorting, “Just reading a text from Adam. What else have I got to do since my date was so damn late?”

  “Twelve minutes ain’t so late,” Logan mumbled as Nick offered him a super-quick hug. When they broke apart, he heroically quelled the desperate urge to glance around at the neighboring strangers, but it turned out to be a wasted effort. As usual, his man read his mind when Logan least wanted him to.

  “No one noticed.”

  “Who cares if they did?”

  “You do.” Before Logan could turn away, Nick continued, his voice warm and firm, “And it’s okay.”

  Logan bit his lip as he looked into Nick’s guileless eyes. “You know, I don’t wanna care.”

  “I know. And someday, you won’t—but these things take time.”

  Dredging up a mock scowl, Logan growled, “This ain’t workin’ out at all.” He could barely disguise the need to smile at Nick’s sudden consternation.

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “I’m supposed to be comforting you.”

  Nick shook his head as he landed a soft, retaliatory punch on Logan’s arm. “Is that what this is all about?” When Logan merely shrugged in reply, Nick demanded, “What’s in the bag?”

  “You’ll find out,” Logan demurred. “Come on, show me around.” Without waiting for Nick’s response, he started for the interior of the park.

  As Nick caught up with him, Logan proved he, too, could read his lover’s mind; he adroitly lifted the bag away just as Nick made a sudden lunge for it. “Stop bein’ so impatient,” he
chided. Using an obvious distraction technique, he asked, “What’d Adam want?”

  “He wants to know if we’re available for a softball game tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Again? This so-called pick-up league of his sure picks up a lotta games.”

  “Adam managed to arrange a game with some team from the pizza league. He says he’s sorry it’s so last minute, but it took him most of the day to work out the logistics.”

  Since Logan had thoroughly enjoyed the few games he’d already played on the team, the news wasn’t actually unwelcome, but he couldn’t help but be amazed at the amount of time Adam spent arranging outings for his large group of friends, a group which had recently expanded to include Logan. “Geez, does that kid ever work? You know, the kind he gets paid for?”

  “Oh, you know Adam….” Nick laughed ruefully, as though he’d suddenly realized that wasn’t quite true. “Well, you will. He works just enough to get by. Is that a no?”

  Logan quickly weighed the possibilities before answering, “Guess we can fit in a game. That team will lose for sure without your pitching.” He was gratified at the obvious grin of pleasure his sincere compliment had elicited from Nick.

  “And your hitting,” Nick drawled in return.

  “Yep.” Logan felt no need to deny it. “But there’s a radiator job I gotta get done on a Jeep tomorrow morning.”

  When they drew near an aging brick building, Nick interrupted their conversation to point out the Fort Pitt museum. While Logan was reading the historical marker at the front entrance, Nick asked, “You sure you got time for the Jeep and the game tomorrow?”

  Logan peeped at Nick from under the brim of his Pirates cap, answering archly, “Sure—if I can get some help on the Jeep.”

  Nick rubbed his hand across his lightly-stubbled jaw, giving the appearance that he was considering his options. “Sounds like you’re looking for some more free labor outta yours truly.”

  Hearing no real heat in his boyfriend’s mild jab, Logan continued the good-natured repartee. “Ain’t that what you get outta me with them mechanic’s classes I’m doin’ for ACC?”