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The meal wound down, the wineglasses were drained, and young Tommy let out a yawn. Irene took this as an opportunity to give the two Rapp brothers a moment alone. She had decided since it was a Saturday night and Mitch was up and moving around that it would be best if they all stayed over. Steven had agreed. “It looks like someone is ready for bed.”
Tommy shook his head. “No. I don’t have school tomorrow.”
“It’s still late.”
“But I didn’t get a chance to show Steven my Game Cube.”
Kennedy looked up at the grandfather clock in the corner of the dining room. It wasn’t yet 9:30. Before she could respond, Steven Rapp asked, “You have a Game Cube?”
Tommy nodded enthusiastically. “Yep!”
“What games?”
“Tony Hawk Pro Skater Four, Star Wars…” Tommy rattled off a half dozen titles.
“How much money do you have on you?”
Tommy looked confused, not quite understanding why the question was being asked.
“Hundred bucks a game. You and me.”
Tommy’s eyes got big and he looked at Mitch, who was shaking his head. Mitch looked at his brother and asked, “You like picking on an eight-year-old?”
“You sure had no problem doing it when I was his age.”
Mitch just shook his head rather than go down that road again.
“All right,” Steven said, “a buck a game, and I’ll spot you as many points as you want.”
“First we do the dishes,” Irene insisted. “Come on, Thomas, help me clear the table.” Irene stood. “Would anyone like any coffee?”
Both men declined.
“Why don’t you two go into the living room and relax?”
As Irene and Tommy picked up the dishes, Mitch grabbed another bottle of wine from the sideboard and opened it. He filled his glass and offered some to Steven.
“Why not?” his brother said. “I’m not driving tonight.”
They walked into the formal living room. It had a distinctly feminine feel: yellow walls; white enameled woodwork; blue and yellow floral patterned drapes; an ivory-colored couch with a mishmash of pastel pillows, matching side chairs, and white carpeting. Like most of the house, it looked like it hadn’t been decorated since the mid-eighties. Mitch sat on one end of the couch and his brother took the other end.
There was an awkward moment of silence and then Steven asked, “Have you made any plans for the funeral?”
Rapp stared off into space and shook his head. “Her parents are handling all of that.”
“Don’t you think you should have a say in the matter?”
“I got their daughter killed, Steven. I think that disqualifies me from having a say in anything.”
“Have you talked to them?”
“No.”
“Don’t you think you should?”
“I’m going to see them tomorrow.” Mitch looked into his wineglass and added, “I have no idea what I’m going to say. She was their only daughter. They adored her.” His eyes misted over. “They were so damn proud of her.” He thought of the pain they must be in. Their beautiful daughter was gone forever.
Steven was at a loss for words.
