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“I had my reasons.”
“Reasons that are no longer relevant. Come clean, why don’t you?”
I sighed. “I once taught someone, and it was the worst thing I ever did.”
“Worst thing? To teach someone how to shoot? That was worse than faking your own death not once but twice?”
“It was one of the first dominoes to fall. Teaching her had disastrous consequences.”
“Her? Fuck. You’re talking about Wendy Madigan.”
“If I hadn’t taught her how to handle a gun, she wouldn’t have—”
“Save it, Dad. Wendy Madigan was a psychopath. She would have still been a psychopath if you hadn’t taught her to shoot a gun.”
“Everything she did can be traced back to me teaching her.”
He shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but give yourself a break. You didn’t turn her psycho.”
Maybe I hadn’t, but I’d had more than a hand in it. Jonah didn’t know all that had transpired between Wendy and me, and now was not the time to get into it. I’d lied when I told him and his siblings about Wendy moving away after sophomore year.
I hadn’t been able to bear telling them I’d stayed with her during high school, that I’d been at her side when she’d miscarried. Instead, I’d fabricated a story about her almost dying from a ruptured fallopian tube due to an ectopic pregnancy. Had I been trying to gain sympathy?
No one was more unworthy of sympathy than I was, yet I couldn’t resist trying to get a little from my children.
I’d admitted to them that I’d sold my soul, but I hadn’t been able to admit that I’d stayed willingly and returned to her again and again. That hadn’t changed until I’d met Daphne.
When had lying become so easy?
Many, many years ago.
I said nothing for another minute, and then, “How’s my grandson?”
“He’s good.”
“And Melanie?”
“She’s good as well.”
“Your brothers and sister? Spouses and kids?”
“We’re all fine, Dad. We’re dealing with everything.” He shook his head. “This was a waste of time.”
Again I said nothing. It hadn’t been a waste of my time. I’d seen my firstborn—the child for whom I’d begun creating my legacy—and I was thankful. I gazed at his handsome face now beginning to show some signs of age. Gray at his temples, crow’s feet in the outer corners of his dark eyes. Silver lacing his stubble.
I memorized every inch.
For I knew, deep in my soul, that this was the last time I’d ever gaze upon it.
