“Okay then,” I said and turned the ignition. I had the windows down for now, would probably close them and turn on the air later. I pulled the column shift into drive and eased down on the accelerator. The trailer, weighed down with the Deere and other equipment, rattled as we picked up speed. As we headed down the lane, about halfway to the highway, the Langley house came into view. I noticed the Saab SUV parked out front of the house, as well as Donna Langley’s Acura sedan.
“I thought they were going away,” I said.
“Huh?” said Derek.
“The Saab’s there. I thought they were going to some lodge or something. In Stowe? Somewhere that way?”
Derek glanced over. “I guess they didn’t go.”
“Didn’t Adam say they were going up there for a week or something? Didn’t you go over there to see them off last night?”
“They must have changed their mind after I left,” Derek said, looking away from the Langleys’ and out his own window.
“Just seems funny, is all,” I said. “You book a place for a week and change your mind.” Nothing from Derek. “Maybe Albert had something come up, some new case or something, they had to cancel at the last minute. I guess that kind of thing happens when you’re a criminal lawyer.” I glanced over at Derek. “Not that he’s a criminal. Just that he
When Derek said nothing, I raised my voice a notch and said, “Yeah, Dad, that’s probably what happened.” Dropped it a bit. “You think so, son? You think that’s what happened?” Up again. “I’d say so, Dad, yeah. You’re never wrong about these things.”
Quietly, “Leave me alone, Dad.”
We got up to the highway and I hung a right, heading north, which would take us into Promise Falls. It’s an average-sized city, forty thousand or so, but we’ve got all the major fast-food joints and a Wal-Mart and a Home Depot and a multiplex and most of the major car dealerships except the really high-end ones, like BMW. There’s the college on the north side of town, so that accounts for the Volvo dealership.
Once you get past the newer subdivisions that surround the town, you reach the old part, which is big on charm with its hundred-year-old houses and large lots, like a lot of places in this part of the state and nearby Vermont. Big trees, a main street with lots of small businesses that have managed to hang on even after the Wal-Mart showed up. We had Mayor Randall Finley to thank for its arrival. He brushed off the local business association’s concerns about the monster retailer, saying they could do with a little competition, that it wasn’t enough to be quaint and charming, you had to give people value for their dollar.
Finley had managed to offend so many people in town, it amazed me he’d been reelected. But he had a constituency out there that loved it when he stuck it to unions and special interests and those who didn’t live up to some moral code voters were under the impression Finley himself adhered to. There were probably more than a few residents of Promise Falls who loved it that he’d barged in on the unwed mothers and given them a piece of his mind, and a little something extra.
“So what did you end up doing last night?” I asked, still attempting to draw Derek out. “I never heard you come in. I crashed early, went right into a coma. You see Penny?”
He’d been seeing Penny Tucker for a month or more now, and the few times she’d been by the house she struck me as a sweet kid. I could only imagine the limericks teenage boys might come up with that involved her last name.
“No,” Derek said. “She was grounded.”
“Why? What she do?”
“Banged up the car.”
“Oh no. Bad?”
“No.”
“What she hit?”
“The bumper.”
“On what?”
“Telephone pole.”
“She going to have to pay to have it fixed?”
“Don’t know.”
Jesus, it was like pulling teeth. And then, for the first time, I noticed something different about my son.
“When did you stop wearing that little stud thing in your ear?” I asked. “The peace sign.”
He reached up and touched his left earlobe, where there was a tiny dimple from a piercing, but no jewelry. Derek shrugged. “I don’t know. It fell out or something. I lost it a while ago.”
We did the Simpson place first. A medium-sized property, no hills, nothing tricky. I assigned Derek to the tractor, since he likes riding it, thinking that if I started him with something he enjoyed, his disposition would improve. I did the trimming, then got out a mower for the spots the tractor couldn’t easily reach.
Mrs. Simpson came out with a glass of water for each of us, which we gratefully accepted. I could see her husband standing back in the kitchen, looking our way slightly disapprovingly. I knew his type. We were the hired help, and if we needed water, we should know enough to bring it with us, or at least take it from the garden hose like we were a couple of golden retrievers. Mrs. Simpson, however, was not a shit like her husband.
