Chapter 19

In the end, Michael went to bat for all of us. He hit a home run. Of course.

I packed while Dad argued.

“I might not be able to stop Emerson and Michael, but you’re my son. I could stop Lily, since she’s about to skip school-”

“But you won’t. Lily’s calling this a college visit, which is not a lie, and Em can’t go unless she has a chaperone.” I threw my shaving kit in my bag with my already folded clothes, figuring I’d go with the scruffy look in the morning. Maybe it would make me look older.

Nate and Dune agreed that Em, Michael, Lily, and I should be the ones to go to Memphis. They’d stay behind and keep an eye on things. Including Ava.

I dropped my travel toothbrush into my open suitcase and faced him. “I’m going to be eighteen soon. What are you going to do then?”

“Drink.”

Family trait.

I raised my hands. “I’m only packing in case we don’t find what we need in time to drive back. I’ll probably be home tomorrow night.”

“You’ll be home all day because you aren’t going.”

I turned around to get a hold on myself and to make sure my flask was covered. I zipped up my suitcase for good measure. “Dune found Jack’s information from high school. And since the university is still in the process of computerizing old student records, we have to physically go there to see what we can find.” I kept the part about tracking Jack’s pocket watch to myself. “This is the next logical step. You know you can’t go without drawing attention.”

“Then let Michael handle it.”

I ignored the drop my stomach did, but only because I really wanted to get my way instead of getting in a fight. “Michael might be Superman, but even Superman had Jimmy Olsen and Lois Lane.”

Dad tapped his chin with two fingers, a sure sign he was about to cave.

He shoots, he scores.

“I still don’t like it,” he said, but he relented. “You’re checking in. Every hour.”

“Dad.”

“You can take turns.”

“I’m positive Michael will make sure you’re in the know.” I pulled my candy stash out of my bedside drawer. An open box of Hot Tamales spilled and skittered across my hardwood floor, and I bent over to pick them up. “Dammit.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” Dad said, backpedaling.

I stared at his scratched-up black boots, with mud crusted and flaking around the heels. Mom would’ve freaked that he had them on in the house. “But you trust him more.”

“You are my son-”

“Glad you noticed,” I said, standing up straight. Even in his boots, I had an inch of height on him.

“My job is to protect you.”

Super heartwarming.

“It’s… Your mother was the one who handled the nurturing part. I’m not…” He stopped, his wide shoulders dropping, and attempted to explain himself. “I’m trying. I may not show it the way she did, but I do love you.”

“Why do you refer to her in past tense?” The candy went sticky in my tightly closed fist. “‘Was.’ ‘Did.’”

His whisper hurt me worse than a scream. “There’s been no improvement; in fact, she’s declining. You’d know that if you’d go see her.”

“Are you saying it’s my fault she’s getting worse?”

“No, but hearing her son’s voice, feeling his touch, that couldn’t hurt her. You know how much she loved-”

“Loves. Loves. She loves me. I sat with her when you were dead. I did everything I could. I even tried-” I broke off just in time. “I know what my mistakes are; I don’t need a list from you. I’ll make sure Michael checks in with you while we’re all in Memphis. There’s nothing else to say.”

I stared at him until he shut the door behind him, and bitterness curled around my rib cage until I couldn’t breathe.

I dropped the candy into the trash and dug my flask out of my suitcase.

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