Chapter 6: When David Came Home
He walked through the door at half past three, rolling his suitcase, smelling of airplane air and the same cologne he always wore.
He dropped his bag in the entryway and pulled me into a hug before he even took his jacket off.
"I missed you," he said into my hair.
I hugged him back and said nothing.
Arthur was in the living room.
He stood up when David came in, and the two of them shook hands the way they always did — firm, brief, a small pat on the shoulder.
Nothing in Arthur's face suggested that anything had happened.
He was relaxed.
Comfortable.
He had already decided the night before was behind him.
"Good trip?" Arthur asked.
"Long," David said.
"Where's Mom?
Where's Chloe?"
"Mom's still in Richmond.
Chloe's been in her room all day.
Headache."
David glanced at me.
"Everything okay here?"
"Fine," I said.
"Quiet weekend."
Arthur smiled at me over David's shoulder.
I smiled back.
David went upstairs to shower and change.
I stayed in the kitchen and started making dinner, something to do with my hands.
Arthur sat at the kitchen table with his newspaper, and for twenty minutes we existed in the same room without speaking.
Then he said, quietly, without looking up: "I think we got off on the wrong foot last night, Rebecca."
I kept chopping.
"I shouldn't have pushed you about the juice.
I can see how that might have seemed strange.
I was trying to be hospitable and it came out wrong." He turned a page.
"I hope there are no hard feelings."
I set the knife down.
Turned around.
"Of course not," I said.
He looked up then.
Studying me.
Trying to read what was behind my face.
I gave him nothing.
"Good," he said.
He folded the newspaper.
"Family is family.
We have to look out for each other."
"Absolutely," I said.
He stood up, patted the back of the chair, and walked out of the kitchen.
I turned back to the counter and stood still for a moment.
He thought it was over.
He had offered a soft apology that admitted nothing and explained nothing, and he expected me to accept it and move on.
That was how this family worked.
That was how they had always worked.
Evelyn told David I was overreacting.
Arthur called it old-fashioned.
And everyone moved on.
Not this time.
David came back downstairs an hour later, showered and relaxed, and we ate dinner together, the three of us, with Chloe still upstairs.
Arthur talked about a neighbor's fence dispute.
David talked about a logistics contract in Detroit.
I asked questions and listened and refilled the water glasses.
After dinner, David helped me clear the table.
When Arthur had gone to the living room, David leaned close and said, "You seem quiet."
"Just tired," I said.
He studied my face the same way Arthur had.
But his eyes were different.
Softer.
Searching for something he was worried he might find.
"Did something happen while I was gone?"
My hands stilled on the edge of the sink.
This was the moment.
I could feel it pressing against me from the inside.
"No," I said.
"I'm just glad you're home."
He kissed my temple and went to join his father.
I stood at the sink with the water running and thought about what Nora had said.
*You watch how he acts when he comes home and you let him show you who he is.*
He had come home and hugged me first.
He had noticed I was quiet.
He had asked.
But Arthur had also sat across from me at dinner and talked about a neighbor's fence.
I needed Monday.
I needed the attorney.
I needed the lab results.
I turned the water off.
Upstairs, Chloe's door finally opened.
Her footsteps crossed the hall to the bathroom.
The shower ran.
I dried my hands and went upstairs to our bedroom, closed the door, and took out my phone.
I had one new voicemail.
Unknown number, Virginia area code, left at 2:14 p.m.
I pressed play.
A man's voice.
Older.
Careful.
*"Ms.
Vance, my name is Gerald Marsh.
I'm a retired detective.
I think we need to talk about Arthur Vance.
May you like
I've been trying to reach someone in that family for a long time.
Please call me back."*
