The Girl Next Door (6 page)

Duncan sighed, and shook his head. “I’ve thought about it enough. I wish I could say
that I understand it, but I don’t. Still, I feel like it’s important that I be there,
where it happened. Otherwise there’s no chance,” he said vaguely. “And that’s not
the only thing. My boys are there. And my grandchildren.”

“Dad,” said Nina, shaking her head. “After what they did today? I mean, I don’t even
want to see them again …”

“Hey, don’t talk like that. All these years, you and your brothers managed to keep
on caring for one another. I don’t want to become a wedge between you. Not now. As
for today … you … we expected too much of them. It’s going to take time. That’s why
I have to go back. I have to be where I
can
see them. Be with them, maybe. Try to get them used to the idea of me being back
in their lives.” He wove his fingers together and squeezed his hands. “I have to try.”

“Jimmy wanted to come,” she said, trying to be reassuring. Her father looked so pained.
“It’s just hard for him. He doesn’t cope well with change. But he’s not … against
you.”

“Like Patrick,” Duncan said grimly.

“There’s no getting through to Patrick,” Nina admitted.

“But maybe, in time, there’s a chance they’ll come around to my side. As long as I’m
here, there’s no chance. I’m sixty years old, Nina. My family is all I have left in
this world. What else can I do?”

“Oh, Dad,” Nina said. She tried to prevent it, but tears of frustration welled up
in her eyes.

Duncan rubbed her back in a circular motion. “Take it easy,” he said.

“I feel like I’ve done everything wrong. I didn’t realize you wanted to go back there.
I hate going there myself. I avoid it like the plague. I never even asked you what
you wanted to do. I just assumed …”

“Out of the goodness of your heart,” he said. “You wanted to make it easy for me.
But there is no easy way for me, Nina. I know that. I accept that.”

“It’s so unfair,” she cried.

Duncan smiled and shook his head. “What a surprise,” he said.

They sat in silence for a moment.

“All right, then,” she said. “If you want to go back there, I’ll go with you.”

“Absolutely not,” he said. “I told you. You are not giving up this place. I won’t
be responsible for that. Now that’s final, Nina.”

There was something about the fatherly authority in his voice that made her smile.
“I’ve missed you so much,” she said, wiping away her tears.

“And I’ve missed you.”

“Okay, okay. We’ll do it your way,” said Nina. “I’ll just go and … help you get settled.
Help you find a place. Will you let me do that?”

Duncan nodded, and put his arm around her. She snuggled under his arm, her errant
tears dampening his sweater. She didn’t want to say what else she really felt. She
didn’t want him to know that she was fearful of what he would encounter back in Hoffman.
People there believed that he had killed Marsha, and they would not welcome him back.
The thought of leaving him alone there frightened Nina. Over the years, some people
had told her she was crazy to believe in him. Others just looked at her pityingly.
But there would be no mercy in the way they looked at him.

Don’t go, she thought. Stay here and be anonymous, with no reminders of the past.
But she knew there was no use in saying it. Her face rested just beneath his shoulder,
and she could hear, like the echo in a well, the sturdy, persistent beat of his heart.

T
HE
next afternoon, while her father stood quietly beside her, Nina purchased two bus
tickets to Hoffman. Then, shouldering her bag and warning Duncan to stay close, she
began to expertly navigate the maze of concourses and escalators in the Port Authority
Bus Terminal that led them, at last, to the platform from which their bus would depart.
They joined the short line of people waiting for the bus to begin loading.

“I’m glad you knew the way. I’d get lost in here,” said Duncan.

Nina smiled at him. “Nothing to it. From here it’s an easy hop to Hoffman. It’s a
lot more convenient than trying to keep a car in this city.”

Duncan nodded, but looked unconvinced. He held his duffel bag against his chest, as
if afraid someone would snatch it from him if he held it by the handle. “Do you go
back a lot? To see the boys?”

Nina shrugged. “Holidays, sometimes. Although Patrick is such a bully about the holidays.
He wants all the food and decorations to look like something out of a magazine, and
Gemma just isn’t like that. I think it reminds her of Didi. Do you remember Didi,
her stepmother, who had the bridal shop? She could spend hours mulling over what color
to engrave the matchbooks. Anyway, Gemma gets stressed out. And Jimmy usually stays
at the Connellys’. I can’t really blame him. I go to visit Aunt Mary, of course. She’s
in the nursing home right now, recovering from a hip replacement.”

Duncan’s face colored at the mention of Nina’s great-aunt, Marsha’s mother’s sister.
“She was a good woman,” he said.

“She still is,” said Nina. “Here’s the bus.”

Nina led the way out the door and up the steps into the idling bus, which smelled
of exhaust fumes, fried food, and disinfectant. She walked halfway back, and then
indicated that her father should take the seat by the window. Duncan sat down obediently,
clutching his bag on his lap. He leaned his forehead against the window and stared
out into the darkness of the Port Authority garage. Nina took out her fat Sunday
New York Times
, flipped on the overhead light, and began to read. Once the other passengers were
seated, the bus driver closed the doors and, with a rumble, the bus pulled out and
began its descent toward the Lincoln Tunnel.

Nina read her paper for half an hour, until the bus reached the outskirts of Hoffman.
Then she folded it up and looked out the window. The many deciduous trees that lined
the streets of the New Jersey suburb were ablaze, and Duncan gave a little gasp of
pleasure at the sight of them.

“Does it look different to you?” Nina asked him.

Duncan shook his head. “It looks like I never left.” The bus turned slowly onto Lafayette,
the main street downtown, stopping at several corners.

“This looks different,” he said. “All these shops are new.”

Nina nodded. “Hoffman’s become very upscale. I mean, it always was a nice town, but
now …”

“Look at that. Banana Republic. Tommy Hilfiger. The Gap. What happened to the old
hardware store?”

“Everybody goes to Lowe’s or Home Depot now, Dad,” Nina said.

“What’s Home Depot?”

Nina smiled and shook her head.

“And that was the old pharmacy. Now it’s an antiques shop.”

“Oh right,” said Nina, as the bus stopped and opened its doors. “All European antiques.
Very pricey. You know who owns that shop? Lindsay Farrell. Do you remember her? She
used to go out with Patrick?”

“Oh yeah,” Duncan said, peering out. “Pretty girl. Her family had money.”

“Yeah.” Nina started to say more, but she stopped herself. She didn’t want to hurt
him. Gemma had confided in her long ago that Lindsay broke up with Patrick after Duncan
was arrested. Lindsay’s parents were horrified by the scandal. They sent her off to
private school in Switzerland, where she ended up staying, getting married and then
divorced. Last year she had returned to Hoffman and opened up the high-end shop on
Lafayette. Nina had stopped in there once, before she realized it belonged to Lindsay.
After that she avoided the place. “It’s a nice store,” Nina said vaguely.

But Duncan had lost interest in the antiques store. Nina knew why. On the next block
was the building where his office used to be. She hated to think of how he would react
when he saw it. The office had been taken over by a pair of architects who had completely
redone the façade of the building. It bore no resemblance to the office where he had
practiced for so long. It was as if he had never been there. He might not even recognize
it.

“Is that my …?” Duncan stopped, bewildered.

“They’ve changed it,” Nina said gently, apologetically.

Duncan nodded, but he suddenly looked weary and … diminished. They rode in silence
for a few blocks. “Nina, where are we getting off ?” Duncan asked worriedly. “Isn’t
Harris Realtors on this block?”

“Not anymore, Dad,” Nina murmured. “We’re going to the end of Lafayette and around
past the park,” she said.

“Why are we going there?” he asked. He sounded almost frightened, like a child.

Nina frowned and glanced past him. “Trust me,” she said. “I’ve got a plan.”

A
FEW
minutes later, the bus stopped outside the Milbank Manor Nursing Home. “This is us,”
said Nina, getting up. “Come on.”

Duncan followed her down the steps, but he frowned and halted as Nina started up the
walk to the nursing home. “What are we doing here? Isn’t this where your great-aunt
is?”

“Yes.”

Duncan shook his head and refused to proceed.

“Dad, come on. Look. We can’t realistically expect to find a place right off the bat.
And the only hotel is out by the highway. We don’t even have a car. Aunt Mary is stuck
here in the nursing home for the time being having physical therapy after her hip
replacement. I’m going to ask her if we can use her house and car until we get you
situated.”

“You can’t, Nina,” he cried. “For God’s sake. She was your mother’s aunt. She probably
hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you, Dad. Come on. You don’t have to go and see her. You can wait
in the lobby. I just need to talk to her.”

Duncan looked around helplessly, as if he no longer knew how to manage his life in
this most familiar of places. Nina watched him anxiously. The physical changes in
him had happened gradually in prison, so that she had hardly noticed them, but now,
in this place where they had once been a family, she saw them starkly. Instead of
the confident, robust man she remembered, he was pale and thin, his hair gray, his
eyes electric with alarm.

“Dad, you have to trust me,” she said. “I’m trying to do the best thing. It will be
all right.”

Duncan sighed, and followed her up the walk to the building. When they got inside,
Nina indicated a little grouping of damask-covered easy chairs in the reception area.
“Wait there,” she ordered. “I’ll be back in no time.” Duncan sat down heavily.

Nina signed the guest book, pushed open the double doors, and went down the hallway,
edging past trolleys of gauze packages and medications, apologizing to those she passed
who were shuffling down the hallway with the aid of walkers. Holding her breath against
the smell of decay that seemed to pervade the air, she tapped on the door to her great-aunt’s
room and heard a feeble voice bid her to come in.

Her great-aunt was propped up in bed by a bunch of pillows and she was staring disinterestedly
at the television, which was tuned to an all-news network. Her face lit up at the
sight of Nina and she turned off the television.

Nina came over and embraced Mary’s frail shoulders, and kissed her on the cheek.

“How are you, darling?” Aunt Mary asked.

“I’m okay,” said Nina. She set down her bag and sat in the chair beside her aunt’s
bed. “How are you?”

“I’m improving,” she said. “It’s going to take a while.”

“You look good, though,” Nina said with a smile.

“You’re the one who looks good,” Aunt Mary said. “I love that emerald green sweater
on you.”

“You should. You gave it to me,” Nina teased her, glancing down at her birthday present,
a merino wool V-necked sweater that was a perfect fit. Aunt Mary’s presents, like
her advice, always reflected how clearly her aunt saw her, and recognized her individuality.
It had been an abrupt shock, fifteen years ago, to have to move into the house of
a widowed great-aunt whom she hardly knew. But there was no choice. Nina’s own family
had been ripped apart. Aunt Mary had seemed old to her then, at age sixty. She had
gamely offered to take Jimmy in, too, but everyone agreed that Jimmy was too much
for an old woman to handle. At Duncan’s insistence, Jimmy went to live with George
and Rose Connelly. Although they were not friends, George felt a debt of gratitude
to Duncan for saving the life of his son, Anthony. George repaid the debt by helping
Jimmy to straighten out his life. As for Nina, after a terrible period of adjustment,
she had settled into a quiet life with her great-aunt. Aunt Mary had been a teacher,
and she liked children, though she’d never had any of her own. She was kind, and fair
with Nina, and Nina often thought that it was Aunt Mary’s kindness that prevented
her own life from descending into a tailspin.

Most important to Nina, despite Aunt Mary’s obvious love for Nina’s mother, and regardless
of whatever her secret opinion might have been, Mary had never spoken ill of Duncan
or tried to prevent Nina from seeing her father after he went to prison.

“So,” said Mary, “you don’t want to hear about my infirmities. Tell me how you’re
doing.”

“I have a favor to ask,” said Nina bluntly.

“Shoot,” said her aunt.

Nina hesitated. “I told you on the phone about my dad. Getting paroled.”

Mary nodded, and gazed at her great-niece.

“Well, I didn’t tell you this. The co-op board in my building wouldn’t allow him to
stay there. And then I found out … from him … that he wanted to move back here. To
Hoffman.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” said Mary sternly. “A lot of people here still
have very bad feelings about him.”

Nina looked at her directly. “I don’t think it’s a good idea either, to tell you the
truth. But it’s what he wants. So he could be near the boys. He was quite determined
about it.”

“I see,” said the old woman.

“I promised to help him find a place and get settled and all that. That’s what I wanted
to ask you about. There’s no one in the house right now, is there?”

Mary looked at her niece, aghast. “You want him to live in
my
house?”