The Lingering Grace (7 page)

“Why didn’t you tell me your brother was in prison?” Alice finally asked.

They had walked to the park in silence, Alice trying to pretend she wasn’t surprised by the revelation, Tony staring straight ahead and not saying anything. Alice wished she knew what he was thinking. She thought that she was getting better at reading him, but sometimes he went completely blank and she couldn’t make heads or tails of it.

He popped open a bag of chips and took one out, but didn’t eat it—just crumbled it onto the grass.

“It’s not exactly something I like to tell people,” he said. “It’s not that I’m embarrassed. I mean, it’s not like
I
did anything wrong … ”

“But people talk.”

He nodded. “Yes, people talk.”

Silence fell again and she didn’t break it. Sometimes Tony needed a minute to process his own thoughts—he’d talk when he was ready. He was careful with words. It was something she admired.

“I would have told you,” he said at last. “I was going to tell you if it came up again if you really wanted to know. But then it didn’t.”

More silence.

“I never thought you’d actually meet him.”

“Well, I still haven’t,” Alice pointed out. “And if you really don’t want me to … I guess I don’t have to.” Of course it would be hard to spend any time at Tony’s house and simultaneously avoid his brother, but she hated to see Tony so worked up. She would promise never to come to his house again if it would make him happy.

Tony looked at her, considering.

“But,” she added, “I honestly don’t care what your brother did or how long he was in prison. It doesn’t change anything.”

“You don’t know what he was in for.”

Alice waited, hoping Tony would fill her in. She was dying to know the whole story though she didn’t dare ask. She’d already pushed him pretty hard, and she could tell he wasn’t in the mood to be interrogated. It must be something pretty terrible if Tony was so hesitant to tell her; but then again, Tony did tend to blow things out of proportion sometimes—especially when those things somehow affected her. And if her brother only got a two-year sentence, it couldn’t have been anything like murder. Her best guess was robbery. Was that what Tony was so afraid to tell her? Was he worried she would be afraid to come over? It wasn’t like she had much for his brother to steal anyway. Except for homework—she had plenty of that, and he was welcome to it.

And the book, she remembered. A shiver sped down her neck at the thought of losing it, and she was glad she hadn’t brought it with her to school that day.

She touched Tony’s arm in what she hoped was a reassuring fashion. Although she was dying to ask why he hadn’t told her any of this before, she restrained herself. Still, the fact that he hadn’t trusted her enough to even mention Danny’s prison sentence got under her skin. It was a little thing, but maybe it was a symptom of something bigger. Back in the car this morning, she’d known he was hiding something. Was it just this? Or was there more? What other secrets had Tony been keeping?

Tony shook his head and, to her surprise, actually laughed. “You must think I’m totally overreacting.”

“Of course not!” she assured him, grabbing his hand. “I’m sure it’s really rough having a brother like that.”

“It’s not the first time he’s been in prison either,” Tony said. She kept a grip on his hand and scooted toward him so their legs were touching, thigh to thigh. He kept talking, more quickly now, and seemed more like himself. “You know, he had such a reputation that by the time I got to high school, people didn’t know what to make of me. The tough crowd hated me once they realized I wasn’t anything like him, and the nice kids never believed I was actually different. So making friends—it wasn’t easy. I guess I hated him for that.”

“Who wouldn’t?”

“And for what it did to Mom,” he continued. “You saw her. Just having him around makes her like that. She hardly sleeps. She’s afraid he’ll never have a normal life, and you know what? I’m not sure he deserves one. Sure, he can say he’s turned around all he wants, but he’s said it before. It’s the same every time.”

“What was it? What did he do?”

Tony shrugged and looked uncomfortable again. “That’s the thing—it hardly matters what he did before because every time it’s different. It’s like he’s going down the list. And what if he kills someone one day? I wish I could say I know he never would, but I don’t know that. I just don’t. How can I let you hang around someone like that?”

So at least it wasn’t murder. She squeezed Tony’s hand and tried to look into his downcast eyes. “Tony, you’ve already proven that you’re not going to let anything happen to me. I trust you.”

His grip on her hand tightened and he nodded, taking a deep breath. When he met her eyes a second later, his gaze was steady. “Alice, I promise I won’t let anyone hurt you. Not my brother. Not anyone.”

“I know.”

And just like that, she forgave him. The anger flushed out of her heart. The doubts vanished. In that moment, everything was fine. Tony’s eyes were locked on hers. She didn’t see lies in them—just blue.

He kissed her—a long kiss, longer than usual. Alice felt the usual flush of warmth, but something new and stronger too: belonging. She belonged in this park. Her hand belonged in his hand, her lips belonged with his. Her mind stretched. Her imagined future expanded without warning, and where there had once only been room for her, there was now a space for him as well. She realized that something fundamental had changed, that she could close the door, but that space in her mind would always be there, with or without him.

And she couldn’t—she wouldn’t—let it go empty. She would do anything to make sure she was never alone there again. Maybe he would lie to her again. She would probably lie to him too. But the thought of anything coming between them was so inconceivable that the deception didn’t worry her—at least not in that perfect, sunny moment.

“I promise too,” she said when he pulled away.

“Promise what?” he whispered.

“That you won’t ever lose me again.”

She told Tony about Eva on their walk back to his house. He was marginally interested, a little surprised—like Alice, he’d thought that Eva was much younger than she actually was—but he was too preoccupied with the situation at home to give it much thought.

“There’s something strange about her,” Alice told him.

“Well, I’m sure she’s really sad about her sister. It’s probably just that.”

“What you said about magic being involved—do you still think that’s even possible?”

Tony shook his head. “No, I’m sure it’s nothing like that. You said so too.”

Alice knew what she had said in her text the night before, but the book made her rethink things. After her near-death experience with the curse, she’d told herself that the hotel was unique—a one-in-a-million exception to general, overwhelming normality. It was the only way her current life made sense.

But finding the spellbook made her wonder. That book wasn’t handwritten, it was printed, and books are never printed in single copies. Who knew how many “ordinary” people like her had gotten hold of a precious copy? How many similarly dangerous books were out there?

What had started out seeming inconceivable now seemed unlikely, but possible. It was enough to make her rethink things at the very least.

She tried to convince Tony to introduce her to his black-sheep brother before she went home, but when they turned onto his street, the old sedan wasn’t in the driveway. Tony was visibly relieved.

“I sent Dan to the grocery store,” Nora said when they got inside. “By the way, Alice, your dad called. Says he’s been trying to get in touch with you.”

Alice reached for her backpack and took her phone out of the front pocket. She had indeed missed several calls from her dad. There was a text message from him too.

Dad: Coming home soon?

Both worried and annoyed, Alice tucked the phone into her pocket so she wouldn’t miss any more calls. It wasn’t like her dad to be home so early. Maybe he had worked from home today? The text wasn’t necessarily a sign of disaster. If something terrible had happened, he would have told her in the text—like “
mom in car accident
”—something that would at least catch her eye. Last time he’d called her while she was with Tony, he simply demanded to know when she would be home. Things like that usually happened if her dad was frustrated with work. He would go on and on about how things were getting totally out of control, and then he’d compulsively hunt down some way to remedy his feelings of helplessness. Sometimes this took the form of cleaning a bathroom or two, which was always amusing—her dad brandishing a toilet brush like a weapon against this oppressive world.

Unfortunately, his favorite thing to do was hunt down his children and keep them in lockdown for the entire evening. This was fine when Alice had no social life, but proved more problematic now that she was so rarely at home.

“Do you want to call him back? You can use our phone if you’d like.” Nora handed it to her, but Alice placed it back on the table.

“No, I’m sure it’s fine. I should probably head home, though. I don’t want him to have too long to stew.”

“Probably wise,” Nora agreed, then added dryly, “If there’s anything we parents are prone to, it’s boiling over.”

Alice smiled and Nora, taking the phone back, grinned at her. “If he calls again, I’ll tell him you’re rushing back home.”

“While keeping safely under the posted speed limits, of course,” Tony added. Alice punched him playfully in the arm, relieved to see him nearly back to normal now that his brother was out of the house.

“You watch out. My dad’s just looking for a reason to make your life miserable.”

“Maybe I should start building up an immunity to the more common poisons.”

He managed to keep a perfectly straight face and she couldn’t help but laugh as she shot back, “You’re not giving yourself enough credit. You’re much too big a threat for common poison. I’m sure he’d whip up something extra special to slip in your water.”

“Hey, no killing my baby,” Nora cried, wrapping her arms around Tony’s head. He pretended to gag and tried to pull away, and Nora held him tighter, laughing.

Alice laughed too and fingered her phone regretfully. This place felt more like home than her house ever had.

Her front door flew open as she was reaching for the handle and her dad stormed out just in time to see Tony driving off. Even Alice, who was used to her dad’s moods, couldn’t remember seeing him this angry in a long time. His cheeks were spotted with red and his shoulders were visibly tight, the right one higher than the left.

To her surprise, he looked just as surprised to see her as she was to see him. He must have been about to leave, not waiting at the door for her to come home.

“Finally,” he said, masking his surprise. “Is your phone dead?”

“No, I just had it in my backpack and didn’t hear,” she said, bracing herself. Surely an explosion was imminent. “Are you going somewhere?”

“On a walk,” he said brusquely, then—to her surprise and relief—marched past her without another word. For a moment, she was amazed at her luck, but then the strangeness of the situation settled on her and she started to worry. Her dad never took walks at this time of the evening (if he needed to move, he usually got on the treadmill for a ten-minute sprint). Something must have really set him off. Had he been fired?

“Is something wrong, Dad?” she called after him.

“Ask your mother,” he yelled back.

Nervously, she opened the door and walked inside. There was no one in the front room, but she heard sniffling from down the hall and hurried toward it. The door to her parents’ room was open just a crack, and she could see the back of her mother’s head. She was sitting on the couch and her shoulders heaved every few seconds as she gasped down air.

“Mom?” Alice asked. The sound seemed small to her, like the voice of a young child.

The sniffling stopped immediately and her mother lifted a tissue to her face before turning around. The door opened noiselessly as Alice pushed it forward and stepped inside.