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“By becoming a psychologist.”
“Probably,” he said. “Also by not becoming a spoiled snowflake asshole.”
Determined, less calf than guard dog.
I said, “You’ve got good insights, Aaron.”
“For my age?”
“For any age.”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I spend a lot of time thinking and sometimes I think it’s just a waste of time. Now I mostly think about Cordi…about never seeing her. It just reallyhurts.”
He clutched his belly. His head took another dip. This time when he looked up, his cheeks were moist. “It’s fucking unfair. I barely got to know her.”
“It is unfair,” I said. “We’re so sorry.”
“I mean,” he said, “something like that happens and Mom won’t talk about it? Not a single fucking word? She keeps saying it’ll upset me too much, like I’m a fucking fetus.”
I said, “Dad told you.”
“Yup. He told me whatever he knew. Which wasn’t much. I asked him where the fuck it happened and he said at Cordi’s house. And then I thought, fuck, I’ve never even been to my sister’s house. Then I thought, Cordi said it was a good neighborhood, one day she’d have me over…that could be relevant, right? A good neighborhood? I mean, it’s not like gangs are roaming around, right?”
Milo said, “We don’t know much yet, Aaron, but sure, it could mean something.”
“But not necessarily?” said Aaron Blanding. “I get it, you’re careful. But doesn’t it raise the probability that whoever…that it was someone Cordi knew?”
“That’s a possibility, Aaron.”
“Do you have any potential suspects?”
“Nope, wish we did, Aaron. Is there anyone you can point us to?”
“Not a specific person,” said the boy. “But I was thinking, maybe someone she dated back when she was dating?”
“When was she dating?”
“She told me she stopped like two years ago. That her life focus was on growing as a person without dependency and building her career.”
Milo said, “As an internet star.”
“That sounds superficial,” said Aaron Blanding. “Like she was just one of those stupid influencers. Cordi was more than that. She didn’t have education but she understood people.”
He turned to me. “She could’ve been a psychologist if she’d had a chance. We talked about that. She admitted she’d missed out and was adapting to it in her own way. I told her she should go for it, she was still young but she said it was impossible, she hadn’t even gone to college, would have to start at the beginning and be old when she was done. Then she said she probably wasn’t smart enough. I said sure you are, if that’s what you want, go for it. Then she kissed my cheek and hugged me and said look who’s being the emotional advisor. Then she said she had to go. That was the last time we hung out.”
Milo said, “When was that, Aaron?”
“Like two months ago. After that, we spoke on the phone a couple of times but just to say hi, she always sounded busy. I didn’t mind, I’m sure she was mega-busy and I was happy about that. She promised to call me when things quieted down. I’m sure she would’ve.”
“So the last time you spoke was…”
“Like…maybe a month ago. She was in the middle of a shoot, still took the time to answer when she saw it was me.”
He looked at the ceiling again, then down at the floor before the blue eyes took a wide lateral swing toward the door. “I’m sure she meant it. Can I have some water?”
“On the way.” Milo got up and strode to the door.
Aaron said, “So you do this, too. Am I being analyzed?”
