“Yes! He told me that too.”
“And then I told him what my biggest wish was. I wished that one day we’d all live together in a giant white castle. I had it all pictured—ivy on the walls, gold furniture with red velvet cushions, Russian wolfhounds as guards. Or some kind of big dogs anyway. And do you know what he said?”
“What?”
“He said, ‘Well, you’re the princess, and the princess’s wishes always come true.’”
“That’s Dad, all right. Always positive. But surely you didn’t expect to get a big white castle, did you?”
“I did at the time, sure.” Her wistful smile unravels. “But later I would have settled for just the part about us all living together. I so would’ve settled for that.”
“Yeah, me too.” Suddenly, I feel very close to Holly.
“That’s why I never really wanted to talk to you about him much, Sutter. Not just because he let us down so badly, but because I don’t want you to turn out like him.”
“But maybe it’s not his fault he couldn’t keep that promise. I mean, after all, Mom’s the one that yelled and screamed and made him move out.”
Her face pinches in with that constipated look she gets when she thinks I’ve said something stupid. “But you know what? He gave her some real good reasons to yell and scream. You were too young to know what was going on, but she confided in me. It was almost like we were sisters during that time. She told me all about how she walked up to his car—parked right in our own driveway—and found him on top of the neighbor from down the street. That’s the kind of man he is, and that’s all I need to know.”
That fast, the closeness between us evaporates.
I’m like, “How do you know that’s even true? Of course, she made him out to be the bad guy. She talks Dad down every chance she gets. You’d think he was Osama bin Laden or somebody the way she goes on. For once, I’d like to hear what he has to say on the subject.”
“Why? So he can lie to you like he lied to Mom? Like he lied to us? Remember when he was moving his things out, and he sat us down on the front porch and told us not to worry, that he’d be just across town and we could call him any time we needed him? Well, where is he?”
“That’s exactly what I want to know.”
“My point is…”
“I know what your point is. But here’s my point—it’s time I found him. I want to talk to him, really talk to him. A guy wants to know his real dad, not some robot stepfather. I’ve tried to ask Mom about where he is, but she just gives me some bullshit answer. I don’t have the same kind of relationship with her that you do. She thinks you’re like this big success.”
“Are you kidding me? She thinks you’re her shining little boy.”
“Her shining little boy? She hasn’t thought that since I was six. Now it’s more like I’m some kind of cracked knickknack or something that she can’t wait to pawn off on somebody at a garage sale. That’s why I’m here. I need you to talk to her about where Dad is for me. You’re the one that’s close to her. She’d tell you.”
“You could be close to her too, Sutter. You could be closer to me. But you’re always going around acting like you don’t need us for anything.”
“Well, I’m here now, right? I’m telling you I need you to ask Mom this one question for me.”
She looks toward the house. “She doesn’t want to talk about him, Sutter. And I don’t blame her. After the way he acted? I mean, he’s, like, the penultimate loser.”
“Penultimate means second to last.”
“What?”
“Penultimate—it doesn’t mean really, really ultimate. It means second to last. Like the penultimate week of the school year is the second-to-last one.”
“Whatever. I’m just saying, as far as Mom’s concerned, Dad’s nothing but a bad memory, and I don’t want to be the one that makes her go through all that again.”
“Yeah, well, I’m sure you’re right. I’m sure everything that happened before we got the bigger house and the swimming pool is a bad memory for Mom. But how about this—can you at least talk to her for me? Could you do that? You’re always slamming me over the head with what you think I ought to do. Just once, how about helping me out with something I think is important?”
She sits there staring at the fruit tray.
“Come on,” I say. “You could call her at work right now. Tell her that Kevin’s interested in talking to him about something. That should do it. She loves Kevin.”
Holly starts to say something, then bites her lip like she’s trying to solve some complex math problem in her head. Finally, she goes, “I don’t have to call her.”
“Why not?”
She’s still looking at the fruit tray. “Because I know where he is.”
“What?”
Finally, she looks at me. “I know where he is—Fort Worth, Texas. He calls Mom probably about twice a year, drunk and asking her to get back with him. Like that could ever happen.”
“And Mom tells you this and not me?”
“Can you blame her? You always act like the whole divorce was all her fault. She’s probably afraid you’d try to run off and live with him or something.”
“Yeah, right.” I stand and grab my big 7UP off the table. “Or maybe she doesn’t want me to find out the truth about what happened. But she can’t keep that under control forever. I’m going to find out. I don’t care if I have to drive to Fort Worth to do it.”