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Dick, Jenny, and Lola all look to me as if waiting for something, but what can I say? I’m torn in two, and neither half of me knows where to stand.
Chapter thirty
TURN OF EVENTS.
TONY
“You all look at me as if I have all the answers. I don’t, but whatever we decide, we need to get there quick. Mama will be up soon.”
This must be what Armageddon looks like. The air in the living room is thick with tension, the kind that settles into the corners of a room and fills up the spaces between words. Dick's voice pierces through it, sharp and unyielding, his face flushed red with an anger that's all too familiar. Jenny stands beside him, her brow furrowed in concern, not quite as fiery but just as determined.
Lola's hands flutter like trapped birds at her sides as she turns to me, her eyes pleading. "Guys. If Tony thinks Mama needs to be here, then maybe we should listen."
Dick snorts a sound that scrapes the patience right off my nerves. "Lola. Do you really think that Mom would ever forgiveus if she were to find out that she was sharing a roof with the man who killed her husband? What betrayal."
"Then what do you suggest?" Lola's voice is a notch higher, edged with frustration. "We can't call the cops on Liam. This is his house."
"If you want to stay, then stay, Lola, but I’m not spending one minute longer than I have to under the same roof as our dad’s killer. I don’t care if this is his house or not. I will not stay here a minute longer. I am going home today. I am going to stay at the airport until I get a flight.”
"Before you do that," Jenny interjects, her voice steady but insistent, "Let's come to a conclusion about Mom because if she is coming home with us, she will need a lot of help. We should all be there for her."
"Listen, guys," I start, my voice surprisingly even, "I know none of this is easy. But we need to think about what's best for Mama—what she needs right now.”
"Or we three can go back home, and Tony stays with Mom," Lola offers, glancing towards me with a pleading look. "And when she feels Mom is okay to come back home, then one of us comes back to help?"
“Mom is doing better. Tony said so herself. There’s nothing the clinic is doing for her now that can’t be done long distance. If Telehealth works in America, so it should work from Zurich to Miami. All we need is a reliable Internet,” Dick says, the deadly edge to his words seeming to dare anyone to challenge him.
"Tony?" Lola turns to me, urging me to find the words to bridge the chasm opening up between us, but sometimes, words are just frail lifeboats in a storm.
"Guys. You want me to say out loud something I don’t agree with. No matter how many times you ask, my answer will remain the same. We’ve been at this for over an hour, and where are we?We are just chasing our tails," I lament, rubbing the back of my neck, where tension has now taken root.
"I vote Mom stays here, close to Dr. Schneider, until she is a little stronger, then come home. I am aware that that is an unpopular conclusion, but that is my position. I’m going to check on Mom. You tell me what you decide, and I will go along, but I want to go on record saying I voted for Mom to stay."
"Sure, run, using Mom for cover. That's the only thing you are good at . . . running," Dick sneers, the venom in his voice leaving a trail of betrayal in the air.
"Dick. What on earth are you talking about? Sometimes you don’t make any sense," Lola says, her forehead creased in confusion.
He doesn't answer her, instead fixing his gaze on me, waiting for some acknowledgment. He knows he's hit a nerve, bringing up wounds best left buried, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction, turning on my heel and walking away, each step echoing the distance growing within our family.
I find refuge in the library, where Mom’s gentle breathing offers a momentary calmness and escape. Plonking myself down on the edge of the recliner that has served as my bed since Mama was discharged from the clinic, I sit down heavily and let my head fall into my hands, finally letting the tears flow unabated, silent and hot against my palm.
It doesn't take long before the door creaks open, and Jenny's silhouette appears, her hand motioning for me to come back out. In her eyes, I read the possibility that a resolution has been reached.
I rejoin my family, and Dick quietly lays out his plan. If we are all in agreement—Jenny, Lola, and I—he will hire a private jet to take us all home. He can pay upfront—as long as we each agree to refund him fifteen thousand dollars. This way, he says, “Momwill be more comfortable, and we will get home faster, without the complications and delays of customs and security check-ins.
“Deal.” Jenny says, knowing better than to counter Dick.
“Deal.” Lola seconds in a tired, resigned voice.
"Deal," I murmur last, sealing our fate with a resigned nod.
"Good, I'll make the arrangements," Dick declares with a note of finality. He's already dialing numbers, setting our departure in stone.
As the birds chirp at the arrival of daybreak, I go back to the room I share with Mom as the others retreat to their respective rooms, minds no doubt racing with the logistics of tomorrow's escape.
At the end of a long, surprisingly uneventful day, I find myself gravitating toward Liam's room, the door cracked open just enough for me to slip through.
He's sitting by the window, a silhouette against the moonlight. I clear my throat, and he turns, his expression unreadable.
