The guy hadn’t put it back and her father, upon returning, had found the gun lying around. He’d gone white with rage. She’d been scared he would hit her. She’d always been a little afraid of the man.
“No guns, I swear,” she said now. “And I haven’t touched the Pinch.” Judith leaned against the doorjamb. She rarely stood still long enough for a conversation. “If you want a drink, I’ll fix it for you.”
“No, thanks. What are you doing in here anyway?”
“Looking for the insurance agent’s number, but the files are missing. Looks like the drawer’s been pried open. You know how that happened?”
“Don’t look at me. I only dust and vacuum. This was your father’s kingdom. He might have mislaid the key and cracked it open himself. He was not patient with household objects. He snapped off the nozzle on the first espresso machine your mother bought.”
“It’s odd the files are gone.”
“He probably took them to the office. He never really worked here. Whenever I looked in, he was reading.”
Tara supposed that was possible, considering the unopened office supplies.
“Your mother asked Joseph to make all those calls—to the lawyer about the will and the insurance people. She was too shook up herself.”
Interesting. “Was Joseph in here? Would he have taken the files?”
“Don’t know. He came and got some clothes. It’s possible.”
She would ask him for the agent’s number and mention the files—see how he reacted. Maybe this was why he’d acted so fidgety. He’d nosed through the files. Why would he take them? To hide something he thought was there?
Judith started to leave.
“How do you think Mom is holding up?” Tara asked.
“She’s doing her best.”
“She seems so brittle.”
“It takes a lot out of her to put on a face for you.”
“Why would she do that?”
“She thinks she has to be strong for you.”
“She doesn’t. I’ll talk to her.”
“Don’t you dare say a word. Leave her her pride. She’d have my head if she knew I said anything.”
“I want to help. What can I do?”
“Then lend a hand on this big charity dinner she’s trying to set up. It’s a lot of work and she’s trying to do it all. Doesn’t want her friends to think she’s suffering.”
“I’ll do that. Great. Thanks for the tip.”
“I think she dreads Thursday at the lawyer’s.”
“Going over the will? Is she worried about money?”
“It’s not that. Your father’s a good provider. It’ll be real then. That he’s gone forever. That’s what I think anyway.”
“You’re a good friend to her,” Tara said, risking Judith’s displeasure over her mushy remark.
“When you run a person’s house, you have to be civil.” She sniffed.
“You mean a lot to my mother, Judith,” she said. “And I’m grateful to you for that. And for all you do for us.”
Judith had bought fruit and yogurt for Tara’s breakfast, even though she’d claimed that no decent person would call that a meal. She’d made Tara’s bed when she forgot. She’d even bought the jasmine incense Tara used to burn as a teenager to hide the smell of cigarettes.
“That’s just sickening,” Judith said. “You act like I’ve dying or about to quit. I’m not, so stop.”
“Sorry. Can’t help myself.”
“You never could. And it got you in a lot of hot water.”
She sighed. “I remember.”
Judith considered her for a moment. “For all the misery you caused, I have to say I wish my girl had some of your gumption.”
“Ruthie?” Tara hadn’t known Judith’s daughter, since she was closer to Faye’s age than Tara’s.
“Yeah. She’s a great cook. She’s over at Ruby’s. Some friends asked her to go in on a food truck in Tucson. She’s got no money to invest. Her share would be as cook. She turned them down. Afraid to leave home.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I pushed her, but she won’t listen. I’m just a mom. What do I know?”
“It’s hard to see someone waste their talent. I know that.” In Wharton, it happened all the time. People shrank to fit the smallness of the place.
“When you go to Ruby’s, order her goat and nopalitos empanadas. You’ll see God.”
“Definitely. Thanks. I won’t be here for supper, by the way.” She was headed to Vito’s to ask about her sister.
“You sure? It’s fried chicken livers and twice-baked potatoes.”
Her stomach churned at the prospect. “Thanks anyway.”
“More for me,” she said with a sniff, then seemed to think better of her tone. “I’ll save you a plate.”
An hour later, after she’d talked to the manager, bartender and two waitresses