AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Hey.” Gary smiled. Then he remembered, and turned on his heel to return to the passenger seat for the flowers he’d chosen.
“You didn’t have to do that.” Dad’s flat tone drifted across the front lawn as the bouquet came into view.
“I wanted to. As soon as I saw the lilacs, I knew Mom would love them.” Their delicate color stood out against the cream roses and pink carnations.
Dad’s smile was a welcome sight. “Yeah, she will.” He stood aside to let Gary enter, then closed the door behind them, barring both sunlight and warmth from entering. “Your mom’s in the kitchen.”
Gary sniffed. “Is that roast chicken?”
Dad’s wry chuckle evaporated yet more of the tension that had been building inside Gary since he’d left his apartment. “Is it Sunday?”
It was an old joke. The menu hadn’t changed since he was a kid, when he and Brad would—
He swallowed, trying to dislodge the lump in his throat.
Mom stepped into the hallway, her eyes brightening momentarily at the sight of the flowers. “How pretty. Thank you.” She accepted his kiss on her cheek and took them from him. “I’ll put them in water.” As she retreated into the kitchen, she called out, “Shoes.”
Gary fought the urge to roll his eyes. Telling her he was thirty-eight and capable of remembering such ingrained routines would have cut no ice.
“I was out back, cleaning up.” Dad inclined his head toward the rear. “Come see what I’ve been doing.”
He followed his dad through the dining room to the french doors, their path flanked by the sideboard and the piano, both surfaces covered with framed photos. Gary didn’t glance at them, not even once, because he knew each by heart, the same as he knew once a week, his mom would take out a soft cloth, pick up each and every one of those frames, and wipe them with care and love.
Theyarepleased to see me.He knew that too, but he was also aware theirs was a perfunctory reception. He wanted to yell at them, to break through the seemingly impenetrable wall of sorrow they’d erected around themselves. He wanted to shake them, to look them in the eye and shout that they still had him.
In the end, he’d do none of those things. He’d share his news, they’d talk about current affairs, what was happening in the neighborhood, his dad’s numerous and constantly evolving plans for the garden, but they were going through the motions.
Nothing got through.
They died when he did.
GARY PUSHEDhis plate away, conscious of his mom’s gaze on his half-eaten meal. He’d been hungry enough when they sat at the table, but the sight of that empty chair killed his appetite. Mom hadn’t set places for four, but she might as well have done; an unseen figure had joined them, one who didn’t eat, didn’t speak, but whose chill presence could not be ignored.
One day. I’ll break through one day. Because I’ll find that bastard, andthenyou’ll see me.Thenyou’ll know me again. And Brad will be at peace.
It was Gary’s mantra, one he believed with every fiber of his being. He loved his parents, anddammit, he wanted them back, the laughing, smiling couple who’d lit up his childhood.
The couple seated with him had died twenty-three years ago but somehow were still functioning, still shuffling through life, not living but existing.
My parents, the zombies.Except the thought contained no trace of humor.
“So are you any nearer to catching this guy?” Dad asked when Mom went into the kitchen to fetch the coffee.
Gary blinked. Theyneverasked about his job. “We’re working on it.”
“That doesn’t sound positive. He’s killed five now, hasn’t he? There was another one a few days ago.”
“Yes.”
Dad frowned. “Well, judging by what I’ve read in the papers, he’s running rings around you all.”
Then itmustbe true, if it’s in the news.Gary knew better than to say such words out loud.
Dad wasn’t done. “The Boston Strangler managed to kill thirteen women before they caught him. You’re not going to let this maniac getthatfar, are you?”
“Dad… I can’t talk about this, okay?”
Dad ignored him. “So who’s in charge? Who’s leading the investigation?”
