29

Adamsville

Thomas was alarmed to arrive home from work and find Grace napping. He actually bent close to be sure she was breathing. She was normally a light sleeper and roused at any noise, especially if he was moving about. But now she did not stir.

Thomas changed and headed to the kitchen to prepare them a light supper. Surely she would hear him eventually. But this was good, right? She needed her rest. He chastised himself for agreeing to let her wait two weeks before seeing a doctor.

Thomas brought a tray in to her with tea, soup, and a grilled cheese sandwich. He set the tray on her bedside table and put a hand on her shoulder. Nothing. He carefully sat between her and the edge of the bed. Her breathing remained even and deep.

Noise, movement, the smell of food, his touch—nothing woke her?

Thomas sighed and moved into the living room, where he phoned Ravinia. As usual, she sounded rushed. But she fell silent when he informed her of his concerns.

“As long as she’s resting, let her, but, Dad, you can call a doctor yourself. Who cares if she gets upset? It’s what’s best for her.”

“What does it sound like to you, Rav?”

“I don’t know. Something in the blood? Some kind of a deficiency? She’s too young for it to be age-related. Likely something easily treated. Keep me posted, will you?”

“Of course.”

“And I suppose you’re eager to know how Dirk is . . . ?”

Thomas had to smile. Caught. No, he had not been wondering about Dirk’s welfare. He had been guilty of avoiding the elephant in the room. Thomas was hoping and praying for a miracle, that Rav would come back to her faith, that Dirk would become a believer, that they would marry. “Yes, how is Dirk?” he said, painfully aware that his awkwardness was obvious.

She laughed. “Fine, thanks. I’ll tell him you asked.”

“When will we be seeing you again, Rav?”

“You never know. I might be coming your way in the spring. Some of us in criminal law will be visiting the county seat up there in Adamsville.”

“Not till then? Not Christmas?”

“Don’t think we can swing it, and it doesn’t sound like you can either.”

“Likely not.” He told her of the prospect of his witnessing a hanging before New Year’s.

“Henry Trenton? I wondered about that. Big, noisy case here, as you can imagine.”

“I had no idea.”

“Oh, sure. The capital cases get a lot of attention in law school. That guy is a poster boy for your type.”

“My type?”

“C’mon, Dad. You haven’t softened on capital punishment already, have you?”

“Well, I still believe Satan is the author of death.”

“I think capital punishment is satanic too, Dad, though I doubt that’s what you were implying. Still, it’s hard to argue against in this case. That monster still call himself the Deacon?”

“Yes, but I have my doubts about his salvation.”

“Wow, I wonder why.”

“No one is beyond re—”

“Redemption, yeah. But can you see why most of the people I know think there’s something wrong with the prospect of sharing heaven with a child molester and murderer?”

“Degrees of sin,” Thomas said, wincing. Why was it so hard to talk to his own daughter?

“Well, get him saved, Dad, so he doesn’t have to have his neck broken and burn for eternity.”

Thomas closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “Rav, I know we don’t see eye to eye on much anymore, but I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t be so flippant about things I hold sacred.”

“Point taken, Dad. Sorry. I do find it interesting that we’re going to wind up in virtually the same field, maybe on different sides of the same fence. Now get Mom some help and let me know how it goes. Don’t put this off.”

Touhy Trailer Park

Something was distracting the usually mellow Stevie Ray, but Brady wasn’t sure what it was until his wife had to leave the dinner table to tend to the squalling baby.

“One of those guys you’re living with is my weed guy, man.”

“Pepe?”

“He’s the one.”

“He told me he’s looking for help selling. What do you think? I could make a lot more with him than I will wearing that monkey suit at Burger Boy.”

“Dealing dope? It’s your call, Brady. You do want a car and all that.”

Brady nodded. “Selling grass to rich kids? Like shooting fish in a barrel. They’re gonna get it somewhere anyway. Why shouldn’t it be from me so I can get my cut?”

Brady left Stevie Ray’s an hour before he was due on the forklift. Sober and subdued, he didn’t look forward to the work like he had even the day before, and he dreaded a long evening at the laborers’ shack, then trying to sleep there. But no way would he humble himself and move back home.

He wandered over to the trailer and found Peter alone. How his mother could just leave the boy there every evening until she and her boss/boyfriend were finished partying—or whatever it was they were up to—was beyond him.

Petey glanced up from his video game and blinked at Brady. “Wanna play?” the boy said.

Brady shrugged and sat next to him. They played in silence until Brady was hopelessly behind, as usual, and tossed away his controller. Peter shut down the game. “I don’t like it when you’re not here,” he said. “Lonely.”

“I can come by every day.”

“That’d be good. Hey, you think Ma knows my birthday’s coming up?”

Brady snorted. “You’d think she’d remember that. She was there too, you know.”

“When I was born? Yeah. I get it. All I got last year was a shirt. And I’ve never had a party.”

“You want a party?”

“Sure.”

“But not here,” Brady said.

“No way. I don’t even want kids to know I live here, let alone have them see it.”

“Then where would you have a party?” Brady said.

“What about Burger Boy?”

“I practically run that place! I’ll check it out.”

“Ma would never pay for it.”

“I can handle that, too.”

“Meals and treats for everybody?”

“Sure, how many?”

“Twenty?”

“Twenty! Wow. Can you cut it to twelve?”

Brady hadn’t seen Peter this animated in ages. “Yeah, I can do that. I’ll invite my favorites. Just the guys. You’d really do this for me?”

“’Course. What are big brothers for?”

Brady was doing the math in his head. This was going to be over a hundred dollars. Brilliant. Him and his big mouth.

But somehow he felt warm all over as he left. There was nothing like doing something for somebody else, especially when that somebody was your little brother.

Funny thing about Brady’s mood, though. Something deep in his gut still niggled at him. His life, which had never been much to speak of, was spinning, spiraling. Brady felt as if he were sinking, and somewhere inside simmered a fury he feared he would not be able to control.

Right now it was focused on himself. He knew he was the reason for all his own problems. But it made him want to lash out. Even his grandiose offer to Petey had more to do with showing everyone else that he could be thoughtful, generous, than it did with pleasing his brother. And even if it wasn’t true, he could appear to have the means to pull it off. That ought to show somebody something.

Adamsville

Thomas had barely touched his own meal. He peeked in on Grace, and she had not moved. The soup and sandwich and tea were cold, so he took the tray back to the kitchen. He didn’t want to wake her. Would she sleep through the night? That would be okay too. But he wouldn’t forgive himself if he didn’t do all he should for her.

He leafed through the yellow pages, finding listing after listing for general practitioners. That was no way to find a doctor.

Thomas phoned Gladys. After she determined exactly what part of town he and Grace had settled in, he could hear her rummaging through some papers.

“I think you’ve got a family clinic not far away,” she said. “Friend of a friend knows one of the doctors there. Worth a try. Here it is. Plum Creek Medical Center.” She gave him the number.

“I owe you, Gladys.”

“I’m keeping a tab,” she said, chortling.

Thomas reached the after-hours answering service, and the woman on the other end seemed to be reading from a manual. “I can contact the physician on call and ask him to call you. Otherwise, you’re advised to check the patient into a local emergency room if necessary. We recommend Sky Ridge. Would you like me to have the doctor call you?”

“Uh, no, not yet. Would I be able to get his number, in case—”

“I’m not authorized to provide that, sir. But you can call back anytime, and I will have him call.”

Grace appeared in the doorway. “Who are you talking to, Thomas?”