Thread of Truth, стр. 42
“We still didn't know Des,” she said. “He was still keeping secrets from us. And he was still...doing things he shouldn't have been doing.” She winced. “Still.”
Her husband put his arm around her. “We tried.”
“But it wasn't enough,” she said, shaking her head, staring at her lap. Her shoulders sagged, defeat pushing down on her. “We failed him.”
I wanted to tell her that we all fail our children in different ways, but that they still have the freedom to make their own choices. They'd stuck with their son for a lot longer than others might've, refusing to give up. She didn't need words from a stranger, but I hoped that in time, she'd be able to see that they'd done the best they could for Desmond.
I stood and Tom walked with me to the front door. He stepped out front with me, glancing behind him to make sure the door was closed behind us.
“Thank you,” he said. “We appreciate all of the work you've done for us.”
“I'm sorry it wasn't different. Truly sorry.”
“Me, too,” he said, shoving his hands in the pocket of his shorts. “I don't know what we'll do now. I'm not sure what the right thing to do is now.”
“There is no right thing,” I told him. “You just need to do what's best for you.”
“I don't think I have any interest in being party to whatever happens to Sharon,” he said, his voice cracking. “It won't bring Des back.”
“You don't have to be,” I said. “You don't owe anything to anyone. You just need to take care of yourself and your wife.”
He nodded, staring at the ground. “I...I wanted it to be like it was for you.”
“I'm sorry?”
He gave me a very tired smile. “I had this vision that you would find him, like you found your own daughter. I thought you'd be able to bring him home to us and everything would be good. I just hoped that would be our ending.”
I nodded. I understood. It was what everyone hoped for when someone went missing.
It just wasn't always that way.
THIRTY SEVEN
“Do I throw my cap?” Elizabeth asked. “If I throw it, won't I lose it?”
It was graduation day and she was standing in front of the mirror in my bedroom, dressed in her cap and gown, fussing to get the cap just right on her head.
“Just grab someone else's,” I said, standing behind her and adjusting the knot in my tie. “I think that's what I did.”
“Good plan.” She took a deep breath and turned to me. “Okay. This look alright?”
I took a step back and something in my chest caught. She looked so old, so adult, so accomplished.
“Yes,” I told her. “Perfect.”
She wrinkled her nose and turned back to the mirror. “My hair is all jacked up.”
“It'll be fine.”
“Says the guy who doesn't know what it's like to manage long hair.”
I smiled and walked past her, out to the kitchen. My dress shoes clacked against the wooden floor. I couldn't recall the last time I'd gotten dressed up. I felt stiff and uncomfortable in dress clothes.
“Hey,” Elizabeth asked, following me out to the kitchen. “You didn't end up inviting her, did you?”
“Inviting who?”
She made a face like she couldn't believe I didn't know who I meant. “Your new girlfriend.”
“She's not my girlfriend. We've been on two dates.”
“You're practically engaged.”
“Stop.”
She laughed, enjoying the fact that she could get a rise out of me. “I just didn’t know. I told you it was okay if you wanted to invite her. Because then I'd finally get to meet her.”
Sutton and I had gone on a second date, a week after the shooting. We'd gone to a Padres game. She bought the tickets and I bought the beer and peanuts. We didn't talk much shop. We had a good time and I kissed her goodnight. I still wasn't sure how I felt about all of it, but it didn't feel entirely wrong. I was taking my time, and I wasn't in a hurry.
“I didn't think today would be the day you should meet her,” I said. “If it keeps going, then soon. I'll need your approval anyway.”
“You don't need my approval.”
It was my turn to use the disbelieving look.
“Okay, maybe you need my approval a little,” she said. She ran her hands down her gown and straightened the cap. “You're sure I look okay?”
“Positive,” I said, smiling. “You look amazing.” I paused. “I'm sad that your mom can't see you.”
She pursed her lips and nodded. “Me, too. Sucks.”
I laughed in only a way she and I understood. “Really fucking sucks. But she'd be incredibly proud of you.”
“I hope so,” Elizabeth said.
“Trust me,” I told her. “She'd be bursting today. Probably wearing you out.”
We both laughed and we both had tears in our eyes.
I walked over and hugged her. “Can't believe you're graduating. You're an adult now.”
“I think I've been an adult for a while,” she said, hugging me back. “Thank you, Dad.”
“For?”
“For everything,” she said, squeezing me. “For...everything.”
Everything. It was a loaded word. But I thought I knew what she meant.
“Thank you,” I said. “For everything.”
We stood there for a long moment, hugging there in the kitchen.
I thought about Tom and Alice Locker and how they wouldn't have this kind of moment again with their son. It made me sad for them. I wished I could have given them what they wanted.
So I didn't want to take for granted what I had.
I had the ability to share those moments and I didn't want to take a single one for granted.
I gently pulled away from my daughter and wiped at my eyes. “Okay. Enough of the tears.”
She brushed carefully at her own eyes, not wanting to smudge her makeup. “Seriously.”
I took a deep breath and exhaled. “You ready?”
She looked around, then shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”
I grabbed my keys and wallet off the table and followed her out the front door. I locked it behind me, then turned around.
She was standing on the lawn, almost exactly where she'd been