Far From True Read Free Page A

Miriam, maybe they got out before—”
    “No, there’s no way. You don’t see the problem?”
    “They’re dead. Yeah, it’s horrendous. My God.”
    “There’s a bigger problem, for us. With them dead, someone’ll have to clear out their house, go through their things. Next of kin. Adam’s daughter, what’s-her-name.”
    A pause at the other end of the line.
    “You there?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Now do you see the problem?”
    “I do.”

FOUR
    Cal
    “THAT was delicious, Celeste,” I said. “Thanks again.”
    “You know you’re welcome here anytime,” my sister said across the kitchen table to me. “You want some of the tortellini to take home with you? There’s tons of it. I can put it in a container.”
    “That’s okay.”
    “I know you’re tired of hearing it, but you know you’re more than welcome to stay here. We’ve got two spare rooms.” She glanced to her right at Dwayne. “Isn’t that right?”
    Dwayne Rogers turned to me and said, without emotion, “Of course. We’d love to have you.”
    I raised a hand in protest. I didn’t want to live here any more than Dwayne wanted me to.
    “No, hear me out, Cal,” Celeste said. “I’m not saying you have to live here forever. Just until you find a place to live.”
    “I have a place to live,” I reminded her. Celeste was two yearsolder than me, and had always seen me as her baby brother, even though we were both now in our forties.
    “Oh, please,” she said. “A room over a used-book store. That’s not a home.”
    “It’s all I need.”
    “He says it’s all he needs,” Dwayne told his wife.
    She ignored him. “It’s a room—that’s all it is. You need a proper house. You used to live in a proper house.”
    I smiled weakly. “I don’t need a big empty house. I’ve got all the space I need.”
    “I just think,” Celeste continued, “that living in that miserable space is holding you back.”
    “Jesus, let it go,” Dwayne said, pushing back his chair and going back to the fridge for his fifth beer, not that I was counting. “If he’s happy living where he is, then leave him be.”
    “This has nothing to do with you,” Celeste told him.
    “Cal’s doing just fine,” he said. “Aren’t you fine?”
    “I’m fine,” I said. “Dwayne just nailed it.”
    He twisted the cap off the beer, drew hard on it. “I’m gonna get some air,” he said.
    “You do that,” Celeste said, and looked relieved once her husband was gone. “He can be such an asshole.” She smiled. “He’s my husband, so I can say that.”
    I forced a grin. “He’s okay.”
    “He doesn’t get it. He thinks people should just suck it up, no matter what. Except, of course, when it’s something that’s happened to him.”
    “Maybe he’s right. People have to move on.”
    “Oh, come on,” she said. “If it had happened to someone else, if
you
knew someone whose wife and son had both been, you know . . .”
    “Murdered,” I said.
    “Right. Is that what you’d tell them? Just get over it?”
    “No,” I said. “But I wouldn’t hound them, either.”
    I knew it was a poor choice of words the moment I’d uttered them.
    “Is that what I’m doing?” Celeste asked. “Hounding you?”
    “No,” I said quickly. I reached across the table and took her hand in mine, aware of the absurdity of the moment. Here I was, comforting her over my reluctance to let her comfort me. “That came out wrong.”
    “I’m sorry if that’s what I’m doing,” she said. “I just think that if you don’t deal with these things, if you don’t give a voice to your feelings, you’ll make yourself sick.”
    I wondered when Celeste would get around to doing that with Dwayne. Dealing with him, giving a voice to her feelings.
    “I appreciate your concern. I do. But I’m fine. I’m moving forward.” I paused. “I don’t see as I’ve got much choice. I’ve got work here. I’m getting referrals.”
    To prove the point, I’d given my sister one of my