Fatal Deduction (27 page)

I tried to believe him but couldn’t.
Oh, Lord, help!

“Look who’s here, Jack.” Mom threw the screen open and held her arms wide. “Eddie, how wonderful to see you!” She hugged him as if he were a long-lost son.

“Eddie.” Dad slapped him on the back several times, rocking him on his heels. “Good to see you, man.”

“You too, big guy. Tori. Lib. And—I’m sorry. I forget your name.”

Right
, I thought. Eddie never forgot anything.

“Drew Canfield.”

“Oh yeah.” He took in Drew’s hand on my shoulder. “Still hanging on Lib, eh? Used to do that myself, you know.”

“Well, what do you think of this young lady, Eddie?” Dad smiled at Chloe.

I reached for my daughter and pulled her to me. Drew had been right. Madge had been right. I had been wrong. And it was too late. I knew it as surely as I knew my daughter was about to be deeply hurt.

Chloe came willingly to my side, aware of emotional currents rushing through the room like the Niagara River toward the falls, but not understanding them.

“So, Chloe, what do you think of your old man?” He draped his arm around Eddie’s shoulders.

I heard my father’s voice through a haze of panic. “Dad, no!”

“What?” Chloe was confused. Over Eddie’s shoulder Tori smirked.

Dad glanced at me, then Chloe, and frowned. “Your old man. Eddie here. Your father.”

Chloe looked as if she had been struck. She stared at Eddie in horror. “You?”

Oh, Lord, what do I do? What do I say?

“It’s true, cookie.” Eddie was beaming from ear to ear.

Chloe spun to me, her face green. “Mom, tell me it isn’t so. Tell me he is not my father.” Her eyes begged, and never had I wanted to lie as much as I wanted to at that moment.

“Come on, Chloe.” I tried to pull her toward the door. “It’s time to go.”

My stomach was churning out enough acid to eat through one of the supports on the Walt Whitman Bridge we had driven over to get here.

She pulled away in revulsion. “He can’t be. He can’t be!” And she raced out of the house. She took the steps in one bound.

“Hey,” Eddie said. “What’s that all about?”

For once in his life my father looked chagrined. “I’m sorry! I didn’t know she didn’t know.”

I wanted to be furious at him. I wanted to rail at him, to blame him, to tell him it was all his fault that Chloe was crying. He was a terrible person to make his granddaughter so distressed.

But it wasn’t his fault. It was mine. I had let fear keep me from doing what was right. Just another proof that my mother was correct about me. No worth. No smarts. Just someone who always got it wrong.

“Let me talk to her.” Eddie started to follow Chloe.

“No!” I grabbed his arm.

“Why not? I’ve got as much right to talk to her as you do. She’s my kid too.”

“You’ve got no rights,” I hissed. “You abdicated them more than thirteen years ago.” I spun and went after Chloe, but he was right on my heels. She’d reached the front sidewalk and in her rush, probably with her vision blurred with tears, stepped on an uneven section. She went down much as I had when I tripped over Mick.

“Chloe!” I ran toward her.

She heard me coming and pulled herself up. Blood ran down her right leg from a nasty gash. She ignored it and threw herself into the limo. I crouched in the doorway as she huddled in the far corner of the backseat, arms wrapped around her middle.

“Chloe,” I began.

She gave me her back.

I climbed in and sat beside her. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. I never meant for you to find out this way.”

She turned her head slightly, just enough to look at me. I don’t think she was even aware of the blood running down her leg. Her eyes were red rimmed and tear filled, accusing me and rightly so. “Him, Mom?
Him?”
Disgust, pain, disbelief, and deep sorrow washed across her face. She made a gagging sound.

“I was sixteen, honey. That’s all I can say in my defense.”

She stared at me. “Sixteen? I’m thirteen, and I know he’s a sleaze.”

Jenna appeared in the door of the car, Bactine and Band-Aids in hand. “Your Aunt Tori sent these.” Chloe began to cry. She held out her arms to Jenna, and her new best friend climbed over me, held her close, and comforted her. I sat, uncertain. Leaving didn’t feel right, but then neither did staying.

Chloe finally looked at me. “Good-bye, Mother.”

The ice in her voice froze my heart. I turned, so full of pain I could barely move. A hand reached in to me, and through the blur of tears I saw Drew. I put my hand in his and let him pull me from the car.

C
HLOE SAT SILENT AND STONY-FACED
as Carl drove them home. Eddie Mancini was her father. Her father! It made her skin crawl just thinking about being related to him. And if she let herself think about what he and her mother—her mother!—must have done, she wanted to throw up all over Aunt Tori’s excellent limo.

She glanced at the red stain on the pale gray leather seat. Her blood. There was more on the carpet, but at least it was a deeper gray. Maybe the stain wouldn’t be as visible.

She hadn’t even realized she’d cut herself until Jenna started mopping her up. Now she had a very sore knee that throbbed in time with her breaking heart.

In one way she didn’t know why she was so surprised that the creep Eddie was her father. She’d known for a long time that there was something wrong with whoever he was. Otherwise Mom would have told her about him. Mom was blurt-it-out honest about everything else, sort of like she was afraid God would get mad at her if she
even shaded a story, and she didn’t want God mad at her. In contrast she was silent as midnight about her paternal unit.

Chloe almost choked when she remembered how she and Jenna had joked about “paternal units.” She almost cried with longing when she thought of Jenna’s dad. Now there was a man you’d be proud to call your father. He was tall and handsome, and he didn’t strut around like he thought he was something special. He was intelligent, a college professor, but most important, he was nice. He loved Jenna. He loved God.

Jenna was mad at him about being so nice to her mom, but Chloe thought it just showed how under-the-skin wonderful he was. It made him seem stronger, and she understood why Ruthie came running to him when things were hard, even if Jenna didn’t. She’d feel safe running to him too.

But Eddie Mancini?
Eeyew!

“Chloe?” Jenna touched her shoulder.

Poor Jenna. She had to deal with Ruthie. Now there was a sad lady. And poor her. She had to deal with Icky Eddie.

“You okay?” Jenna whispered.

Chloe looked at her friend’s concerned face and thought that the nicest thing God had done for her in a long time was to have Jenna “just happen” to be living in Philadelphia on her street while she was there.

Jenna studied her with worried eyes, waiting for an answer. Was she okay? Chloe shrugged. In the background Aunt Tori rattled on about her job and how glamorous things were in the casino and how she got to meet famous performers and really rich guys. Yeah, well, if things were so great and everybody was so rich, why was she stealing stuff from Mom?

“Carl,” Aunt Tori called to the guy driving. “Did you get what we talked about earlier?”

Carl nodded. “I did. It’s up here on the seat beside me.”

“Pass it on back, please.”

Carl reached to his side, then lifted a plastic shopping bag over the seat. “Had me a great time at Circuit City.”

Aunt Tori grabbed the bag and ignored Carl. “I was going to save this for later, Chlo, but I think you need it now, after the evening you’ve had. I’m so sorry your mother sprang Eddie on you like that.”

With a huge smile she set the shopping bag on Chloe’s lap.

“Thanks, Aunt Tori,” she managed, though the last thing she wanted was to act happy over some present. There was only so much love a person could buy, especially the person who had first brought Icky Eddie into her life. Aunt Tori might think she didn’t know that she’d been the one to bring Eddie on the Fourth, but she did. She also saw how it had upset her mother. Not that she’d understood at the time, but she did now.

She glanced from the present to Aunt Tori. Something was not quite right there. Chloe’d seen the way Mom-Mom and Great-Nan gave Mom a hard time, but she hadn’t realized Aunt Tori was like that too, not until they’d lived together in Philadelphia. Aunt Tori was fun, and she was beautiful and exciting, but she was also—Chloe searched for the right word—
flawed
. Aunt Tori was flawed.

“Go on,” Aunt Tori urged. “Open it.”

Chloe pushed the bag away and saw a box that took her breath.

“Chloe!” Jenna squealed. “It’s a Wii! With two Wiimotes and lots of games!”

Then again, maybe you could buy a lot of love with the right gift even if you were flawed.

Drew studied Libby’s family as Tori’s limo pulled away. They made his family seem like the Cleavers.

Mimi eyed Libby like she was something unpleasant she had stepped in.

Cynthia shook her head back and forth like she wasn’t surprised that Libby would ruin this special day.

Jack looked taken aback, and Drew suspected he hadn’t expected anything like the reaction he’d gotten from Chloe or Libby. In his years away, he had lost track of the fact that Chloe had been kept innocent of the identity of her father.

Mike—whom Drew hadn’t officially met—seemed bewildered, like he didn’t have any idea what was going on, which he probably didn’t.

Eddie was pale and sweaty, even his moussed curls drooping, though he tried to appear cocky and insulted that neither Chloe nor Libby had welcomed him as part of their little family.

And Tori had been secretly delighted, a small smile playing on her lips as she climbed into the limo after the girls.

He turned to Libby, who was clearly devastated, and it tore at his heart. That she had lived with this subtle abuse and lack of support as a little girl, as a young teen, and as a too-young mom filled him with sorrow. That she had become such a wonderful woman in spite of it all blew him away.

Jack approached her, his hand outstretched. “I’m so sorry, Lib.”

Libby placed her hand in her father’s. Her shoulders were slumped, and her distress was palpable, at least to Drew, but still she said, “It’s okay, Dad. It’s my fault. I should have told her the truth years ago. I’m just sorry I ruined your homecoming.”

Mimi moved to stand beside her husband. “Well, it’s the kind of thing I’ve come to expect from you.”

Libby flinched, and Jack looked at Mimi in surprise. Drew scowled. Maybe Jenna was lucky to be ignored after all.

Mimi glared at the negative reactions her comment brought. “I just meant that Lib has become too righteous to talk about her wild younger days. You all know that’s true.”

Wild younger days? How about abandoned younger days. He was pleased when Libby actually defended herself.

“You’re wrong, Mom. I’ve talked a lot with Chloe about my mistakes when I was younger.” Her voice was barely shaking, and Drew felt inordinately proud of her. “I’ve told her I was wrong, and I’ve warned her against making the same bad choices.”

Anger flared in Eddie, displacing his pasty look with a red flush. “So I’m just a mistake, am I?” He stood with his hands on his hips, glaring at Libby.

“Of course you were, Eddie,” Libby said. “I should have been strong enough to handle all the pressure of”—she hesitated—
“things
myself.”

“Things?”
Cynthia snapped at Libby’s heels like an angry terrier. “So it’s all Mike and Jack’s fault?”

Libby closed her eyes, and Drew suspected she was casting an urgent prayer heavenward. She took a deep breath, opened her eyes, and looked at Cynthia.

“I neither said nor meant that, Nan. My sin was my sin.”

“Wait a minute here,” Eddie complained.

“Libby.” Drew felt compelled to defend her in front of these people who should be her main support, not her accusers. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You were sixteen. Your family was in turmoil. You didn’t have anyone supporting you.”

Mimi skewered Drew with a baleful look. “So Libby’s failures are our fault after all.”