The Promised World (11 page)

Their mother worked at the DMV. She used a machine to test people’s eyes to make sure they could see good enough to drive a car. He knew Pearl thought it was a stupid job, but he wasn’t sure what was wrong with it. He liked his mom’s machine. It was a lot better than the one at the doctor’s office where he was always being tested ‘cause he was born with weak eyes.

He kicked the side of a tree for a while before he thought of something else. “What if the policeman comes and gets us?”

“I have a plan for that, too. If I tell you, you have to swear that you won’t tell anybody.” Pearl looked at him closely, like she was checking his face for dirt. “Not even Aunt Lila.”

“I swear.”

“You tell and I’ll be in big, big trouble.”

“Okay.”

“No, forget about it.”

Of course, now William really wanted to know. He begged and pleaded, but Pearl wouldn’t budge; she said it was too risky. So finally he said, “I got a secret, too. I’ll tell you if you tell me.”

She didn’t say anything. She was looking at the house. The lights were on in the living room and the kitchen, meaning Mommy was back with Maisie. Kyle was probably there, too. He didn’t have a job, but he was usually gone when Pearl and William got home from school. Whenever Mommy asked Kyle what he’d done that day, he said, “Nothing much.” Sometimes he lied and said he’d been home the whole time, but the one time when Pearl said it wasn’t true, he said Little Missy wouldn’t know because he was asleep and his truck was in the garage. “Little Missy” was what he called Pearl. She hated it. When their mom took Kyle’s word over Pearl’s, Pearl said Mommy was an idiot who would believe anything because she was so desperate for a man.

“My secret is BIG,” he told his sister. “HUGE. I got my own plan and it’s—”

“I’m sure you do, baby bro.” Her voice was a smile and she called him “baby,” but he didn’t mind when she put her arm around him and pulled him close. He liked the way his sister’s hair smelled. It was clean, like grass, but sweeter, like it wasn’t really hair at all, but ropes of yellow flowers like the ones in the planter on their front porch. But when Pearl didn’t let go after a minute, he felt caught, like when his granny pulled him on her lap. He could feel Pearl shaking like she was crying, but he still had to try hard not to squirm away.

Finally, his sister sniffed hard and stood up straight. “She broke Dad’s heart when she went to the police. She turned him into a criminal to keep him away from us. Well, she’s not going to keep us away from Aunt Lila. We belong with Dad’s family. We’re going to do this for him.”

“Yeah,” William said. And he was about to say that his secret and his plan were Dad’s idea, but then Pearl said they had to go inside now for supper.

By the time supper was over, when he was back in his room, listening to S-H-O-S-T-A-K-O-V-I-C-H, he was glad he hadn’t told her about the last Challenge. Daddy had said he was the only one brave enough to do what had to be done. “If it comes to that,” Daddy always said, and he gave William a list of things that would help him know when the time had come. The number one thing on the list was Kyle still being with them, which made William rest easier. He wouldn’t have to pack the gun or even move it from its hiding place, since Kyle wouldn’t be at Aunt Lila’s house for sure.

CHAPTER NINE

P
atrick was halfway down the Garden State Parkway when his misgivings about what he was doing turned into full-fledged regret. He’d never believed the superstitious line that the universe punished you for making wrong choices, though it sure as hell felt like he was being punished when his car started bleeding oil. He managed to pull over to the side of the road without being killed, but that was the only good news. The bad news was that the engine of his old VW Rabbit appeared to have finally given up the ghost. And the really bad news was that his triple-A membership had lapsed sometime in the last month, another casualty of the stress of his life right now, meaning the cost to tow the car back to Philly would be astronomical. He could have it towed to the nearest town and hope he could find a mechanic who knew how to work on old
Volkswagens, but even if he was successful, the cost to replace the motor would be far more than the car was worth. He’d have to get a new car, though obviously there was no rush. Lila’s Subaru was always available now. He should have taken her car today; it was nearly new and in perfect condition, but he kept thinking that as long as he left the Subaru in the apartment parking lot, there was at least a chance that Lila would get out of bed and go somewhere, anywhere, even the grocery store. That she never availed herself of this chance did nothing to his resolve to provide her with it. So he was stubborn as well as foolish.

At least she would have to drive somewhere now, though this would be awkward, too. He’d have to explain why he was halfway through New Jersey rather than holding office hours on Wednesday afternoon like he usually did. He was still thinking about what he’d say when he got out his cell and started dialing. There was no choice. He couldn’t just sit on the side of the parkway for the rest of his life.

He cursed several times when he realized that he was being stupid again. He knew full well that Lila never answered the phone anymore, not even for her lawyer. She’d probably taken sleeping pills this morning. Most likely, she couldn’t even hear the damn phone.

Before he put it back in his pocket, he noticed he had a text message from his colleague Joyce, thanking him for lunch yesterday and adding, “If there’s anything I can do to help, call me, ok?” He might have felt guilty for talking to Joyce so extensively about his problems, but he was too busy being relieved that her number had a 609 area code. She’d mentioned something about living in New Jersey, hadn’t she? She probably lived in one of the suburbs of Philly, like Cherry Hill or Mount Holly, but she was still a lot closer to where he was now than anybody else he knew. And she didn’t teach on Wednesday or even come to campus; he knew
this because she’d said she could have lunch any day except then. Her desire to help him seemed sincere enough, and this time he knew he could make it up to her, because she’d mentioned that she desperately needed advice on teaching the lower-level subjects. She was fresh out of grad school at Michigan, with no experience teaching the underprepared students who made up half of their student body.

He dialed Joyce and she answered on the second ring. She said she’d be glad to pick him up. He told her he would have to have the car towed somewhere, a junkyard at least, and she said no problem, she’d google his location and find the nearest place. A few minutes later, she called back and said the tow truck was on the way and so was she. She’d pick him up at the gas station that promised to take both him and his Rabbit off the highway within the next fifteen minutes.

It took more like a half hour, but the tow truck came and he only had to stand around in the gas station for another twenty minutes before Joyce arrived, too. She was wearing jeans and a short-sleeved T-shirt, and he felt bad for interrupting her day off, but she said, “Don’t be silly. It’s the least I can do for my only friend in the department.”

Joyce was a mid-semester replacement, but Patrick hadn’t known until their lunch yesterday that she’d been feeling so adrift. He told her their colleagues were actually a friendly bunch, and they must not have known that she needed their help. What he didn’t say was that his department still wasn’t in the twenty-first century when it came to their treatment of female professors. They were cordial enough to the handful of women teaching with them, but they didn’t usually reach out to them the way they did to the other men.

“What do you think of my geek mobile?” Joyce said. The back of her Toyota had been decked out with every math and computer
bumper sticker he’d ever seen and some he hadn’t, like “Alcohol and Calculus Don’t Mix. Never Drink and Derive.”

“Nice,” he said. He and Joyce had discussed being geeks at lunch yesterday. She said she’d always thought of herself that way, and they’d both agreed that their ability in math had been both a proof of and compensation for their outsider status in high school.

“Geeks rule,” she said, laughing, and started the car. “So where to, Pat? Tell me where you were heading when your car breathed its last.”

No one called him “Pat,” but he’d already corrected her yesterday and he didn’t want to embarrass her. “I was going to Cape May, but at this point I’m happy just to have a ride home.”

“Is that one of the ocean towns?”

“ ‘Shore’ they call it here, but yes. It’s about a half hour down the parkway, at the bottom of New Jersey. An interesting town, actually, mostly restored Victorian homes, but—”

“It sounds great. Let’s go.”

He thanked her, but said he couldn’t possibly let her do that. “You’ve done so much for me already.”

“Really, it’s no problem, as long as I’m home by seven to do my grading.” When he still hesitated, she said, “It sounds like fun.” Her voice got quieter. “I could use some of that.”

He could tell she was serious, which put him in something of a quandary. If he said no again, then he was being ungrateful, given how far she’d driven to come get him and how far she would have to drive to get him back home. But how could he say yes without telling her why he was going to Cape May in the first place? She’d have to drop him off at the house of the woman who claimed to be Lila’s mother. He could lie and say he was visiting an old friend, but then it might seem rude not to at least introduce Joyce to this old friend.

But on the other hand, he’d come this far and canceled his
office hours to get convincing proof that this Barbara person was not Lila’s mother. If he went home now, he’d be right where he started, with nothing he could use to change Ashley’s mind. Just as important, he’d be stuck where he was: desperate to dismiss the incomprehensible idea that his wife had lied to him, but unable to do so no matter how hard he tried. The last few days had been some of the worst in his marriage. He had always trusted Lila, but if her claim about losing her parents had been an outright deception… Well, he didn’t know what he would do, but he was ninety-nine percent sure it wouldn’t come to that. All he needed was enough proof to convince the other one percent.

He finally told Joyce he’d be grateful if she took him to Cape May. She put the car in gear and said, “Excellent!”

She was a very enthusiastic person; he’d noticed that about her at lunch. She also asked a lot of questions. When she asked why he’d come to New Jersey today, he decided to tell her part of the truth. He said he was looking for Lila’s mother, but he left out the fact that Lila claimed her mother was dead. She seemed to be appalled that Lila was going through the loss of her twin without her mother’s help. “It must be so hard on her,” Joyce said. “My mother has always been my biggest supporter. She never lost faith that I would find a teaching position, and you know how much that means when you’re on the job market.”

“Absolutely,” Patrick said.

“I’m sure your mother was the same,” Joyce said. She put her window halfway down. It was warm in the car with the sun shining through the windshield. “The market must have been terrible when you graduated. Even worse than it is now.”

“I don’t know,” he said, glad that the mother talk was already over. “Why do you think so?”

“Coming from Princeton as you did, and ending up at Dannerson College. That can’t have been what you expected.”

“I like Dannerson,” Patrick said. “I think you’ll grow to like it, too. But you’re right, it wasn’t what I expected. Like everybody, I expected a job at a first-rate university where I would teach the occasional class of grad students and do my research. Unfortunately, geography intruded. I had to be in the Philly area, for Lila, and Dannerson was the only place I could find.”

Joyce assumed that Lila had wanted to live in Philadelphia for work reasons and mentioned how impressive it was that he’d subordinated his career to his wife’s. Patrick thanked her, but said Lila’s job was only part of it. The other part was Lila’s brother and his family.

“Well, that’s even more impressive,” Joyce said. She touched his arm and turned in his direction. She was wearing sunglasses; he couldn’t tell if she was looking in his eyes. “Your wife is very lucky to have you.”

“Thanks,” Patrick said, but he grew silent because that slight brush of her fingers on his arm had unnerved him. Colleagues usually didn’t touch each other unless they were at the annual Christmas party and the wine had been pouring for a while, and even then, it was only a slap on the back that punctuated a good joke or an amusing story about the administration. And no one in the department had ever said Lila was lucky to have him. But he’d already told Joyce more, at yesterday’s lunch, than he’d told anyone he worked with. He still wasn’t sure how it happened; usually he was a listener, not a talker, but Joyce had seemed so interested and finally he’d found himself disclosing far more than he was comfortable with. He had no idea why she’d cared, unless she was simply trying hard to be friends.

He stayed quiet until they crossed the bridge that meant they were entering Cape May. Then he pulled out the MapQuest directions he’d printed this morning.

The house was easy to find: only a few blocks from the beach,
one of the most imposing-looking places in the best neighborhood in town. “I think I may have the wrong address,” he said to Joyce. He hadn’t written it down, but he thought he remembered it from the envelope he’d seen at Ashley’s. But this place was all wrong. It hardly looked like the kind of home a fraud would come from, and more important, whoever lived here could not be related to Lila and Billy, because they had grown up without enough money for college. This was one thing he was positive about. Lila had gotten a combination of scholarships and financial aid that never would have been awarded to someone whose mother could afford a seven- or eight-bedroom mansion like this.

“Do you want me to wait?” Joyce said. “See if it’s wrong?”

“Thanks, but I’ll be okay.” He was positive he had the street right. If necessary, he could walk up and down knocking on doors until he found this Barbara person. “Go on to the beach. I’ll call you when I’m finished.”