Thread of Hope

FORTY-TWO

We stopped back in the main office so I could ask Lana McCauley to print me out one more thing. She did so without uttering a word.

Gina and I walked outside into the courtyard at the front of the school. There was a large stone fountain in the middle of it and water trickled quietly.

“Off the record,” I said to her. “Jordan seem like the type of guy who’d hit his daughter?”

“I’m not sure what that type is.”

“What have you seen, Gina?”

She took a deep breath and sat down on the edge of the bench that encircled the fountain. “If I hadn’t seen anything, I’d tell you that, no, he’s not capable of it. He’s a good father. He’s got a brutal temper, but he’s a good father.”

I sat down next to her. “But you have seen something.”

She bit down on her bottom lip for a moment. Fine wrinkles rippled across her forehead. She brushed her hair back away from her face.

“That thing he was talking about back there?” she finally said. “The camping trip? I remember when she came back. It was a Sunday night. Jon and Olivia left that morning, went to Chicago to meet with some investors. I drove him to the airport.” Her mouth twisted aimlessly for a moment. “Olivia went into the airport first. Jon hung back. He gave me an envelope to give to Meredith when she got home. He told me they’d fought before she left and he felt bad about it. He wanted me to make sure I gave it to Meredith the moment she came home.”

The sun was hot on my neck. The breeze from the other side of the school where we’d spoken to Derek was nonexistent. I kept listening.

“She came home late,” she continued. “About nine or so. I went up to her room and gave her the envelope. She was unpacking her bag. She opened it right in front of me, started crying as she read it.”

“Any idea what it said?”

“None,” she said, shaking her head slowly. “Not my place to ask and Meredith didn’t say.” She looked at me. “But her face was still swollen and I could see a faint bruise on her cheek. It was almost gone, but I could see it. Didn’t seem like anything at the time and I hadn’t thought about it again until that asshole mentioned it.”

I twisted around and watched the water in the fountain. Pennies and dimes lined the bottom. A big piece of pink chewing gum rolled into a perfect ball rested next to a quarter.

I turned back around. “Ever see anything else?”

She shook her head. “Not once. Nothing even close. That’s why I never thought about that night as anything out of the ordinary.”

I’d struck Elizabeth once, when she was four. She’d been testing my patience all day, challenging everything I asked her to do, trying to assert her independence. We’d owned a dog then, a thirteen-year-old yellow Lab named Bob and she’d kicked him hard enough in the face that he’d yelped.

I spun her around and spanked her. She’d burst into tears, grabbing at her rear end as she ran to her room.

I was immediately sorry for doing it. Lauren and I were against any sort of physical punishment and though we’d been tempted previously, we’d managed to get through four and a half years without a spanking until I’d broken that afternoon.

I went to her room, lay down on the bed with her and hugged her for an hour as she kept telling me she was sorry, that she loved both Bob and me.

I never touched her in anger again and though I knew better, I couldn’t imagine anyone hitting their child in anger on a regular basis.

I felt Gina’s hand on my shoulder, heard her say something that I couldn’t make out.

Tears began to sting the corners of my eyes. I never knew exactly when they’d appear and rarely could I stop them when they did. My heart started beating faster and my gut ached. I was breathing loudly through my mouth.

Gina’s hand pressed harder against my arm. “Joe? Are you alright?”

I stood, wiped at the tears that continued to fall. “Let’s go get some lunch.”