Be patient. All will be explained.
As he approached the driver’s side, she rolled down the window. ‘Get in. I don’t want anyone to see you.’
Ray slid into the passenger seat. His eyes were dull and his hands shook, as if he hadn’t slept in days.
‘I’m not here to make excuses or defend my behaviour,’ he said, looking straight ahead through the windscreen. ‘Not about the awful things I did as a teenager. Or lying to you about Stern, even though that information could have affected Tim’s situation.’ He turned to look at the house. ‘I was a screwed-up kid from a messed-up home, but that doesn’t excuse the way I treated Tim, or any of the stupid and vile things I did to hurt others.’ He took a white envelope from inside his jacket and handed it to her. ‘You can open it later when you’re alone.’
The air inside the car was warm, though the oak trees lining the street provided a welcoming shade. Earlier in the day it was cooler, with a hint of autumn in the air. Soon, the canopy of trees would change colour and burnish the countryside with great swaths of red and gold.
He turned to look at the house. ‘Is this where you live?’
She cleared her throat, wishing she didn’t feel so nervous. ‘No, but there’s someone who lives here I’d like you to see.’
At precisely three-fifteen, the front door opened, and a man in jeans and a brand-new green sweatshirt stepped onto the porch. From behind him, a dog barrelled past and charged down the steps, before turning to wait for the tennis ball in the man’s hand. As he threw it in a clean arc across the wide lawn, the dog barked excitedly and took up the chase, her russet coat shining in the sun. The moment the dog caught the ball, the man took off round the side of the house, while she chased him into the backyard.
When Lydia had called with a report on Tim’s progress, she had described this routine – out the front door, throw the ball, scurry round the back – as their new game. Under the care of a doctor, Tim was being weaned off the medication he’d never needed and was adjusting to his new home. With Lulu, a hit with the other residents, the star attraction of the house.
‘Is that…?’
‘Yes,’ Erin said. ‘That’s Tim, or Timothy as he prefers to be called. He seems to be settling in well.’
Ray fell quiet. But what could he say? An apology wouldn’t turn back the clock, nor would it give Tim the years he had lost.
He stared out the window, as if waiting for Tim to reappear, but the front yard remained empty.
‘Erin …’ He started to say something, then shook his head and opened the door. ‘It’s all in there.’ He nodded at the envelope on the dash. After shutting the door, he leaned through the open window. In Spanish, he murmured a few words about learning from one’s mistakes. ‘I repeat that quote to myself at night before falling asleep.’ His eyes were sad. ‘It doesn’t make me feel better. But perhaps someday it will.’
*
It was her last night in Albany, hiding out in her room at the inn. She hadn’t been ready to return to Lansford before, but it was time. In the morning, she would pay the bill and head back home.
She made a cup of tea and curled up in the window seat to read Ray’s letter. When she slit open the envelope, a square of stiff paper fell out. She picked it up and turned it over. It was a photo of her and Ray, snapped at that Cuban restaurant, Casa Habana. One of Ray’s waitress friends must have taken it. The camera caught them at the moment they’d lifted their glasses in a toast. May you live every day of your life. Her eyes shone in the light of the candle as he touched his glass with hers. She looked happy.
From the envelope, she pulled out a letter, handwritten on a single sheet of paper, and a document of several typed pages, printed on the letterhead of a New York law firm.
Dear Erin,
In the summer of 1978, after graduating from high school, I left Belle River for what I hoped would be the last time. The move to NYC was meant to be a fresh start, and a chance to put my demons behind me for good. But I don’t need to tell you that whatever demons hound us through life are inside, not out, and no matter how fast we run, we can’t escape ourselves or the shadows that haunt us.
I can’t make up for the things I did to ruin Tim’s life. The bullying and the drugs were the least of it. If not for my indifference to his fate, he would never have been locked away. Someone with more integrity would have gone to the police with what he knew. For the rest of my life I will have to live with the consequences of my cowardice and cruelty.
I can’t give Tim those years back, but I sincerely hope that a better future awaits. To my great surprise, and consternation, I was contacted by an NYC lawyer, who informed me that I was the beneficiary of Stern’s estate. Even though I turned my back on him in the end, apparently he considered me, much to my shame and regret, to be the son he’d always wanted.
Following probate, the entire value of Stern’s estate will be placed in trust for Tim. The enclosed document from Lear, Reinhardt & Barton contains all the details. Though it won’t change the past, I hope the money will allow Tim to live in comfort and safety for the rest of his life.
As for me, I’m taking a six-month leave of absence from work and heading to a village in Galicia. In the winter months, storms batter the
