Into This River I Drown - By Tj Klune Page 0,83

all alone. I always figured I would go first. I was older. She was in better shape than I was. I smoked for thirty years. She never so much as had a sip of wine. She didn’t do anything to deserve….” He trails off, watching the rising sun.

Eventually, he sighs. “So I was furious that she went first. That she was at peace and I was left alone here. I was so mad at her and I stayed that way for a long time.

“I was going to come here and ask your angel if he knew of Estelle. It sounds ridiculous, right? I told myself that all night as I tossed and turned. But I got up this morning determined to ask him if he knew her. If he could see her, because, boy, there are times when I swear to God that I can feel her near me. I was going to ask if he was there when she left me. Do you remember what happened? You might be too young, but that’s okay. She was walking across Poplar Street. Just a normal, sunny day. She was going to get her hair done. That’s all. She was going to get her hair done and instead she died in the middle of the road, her face pressed against the asphalt. I was going to ask Cal to give her a message for me. Do you know what that message was, Benji?”

I’m unable to speak.

“I was going to have him tell her I’m sorry,” he says quietly, putting his arm on my shoulder. He doesn’t pull me toward him, just lets me feel the weight of him. “I was going to say I’m sorry for being so angry for so long. That I missed her and I’m sorry for acting like I didn’t. Grief is like that, Benji. It masks the anger until anger is all you know. Until you’re buried in it. You’re not the only one grieving here. I am too. I loved your dad. Loved him because he was mine too. Love him still, even after all this time. He’s not an easy person to forget. Your mother grieves. Your aunties grieve. And your angel sounds like he grieves as well. And maybe it’s worse for him, because maybe he should have done something. Maybe he did fail. But it sounds like he doesn’t know, and you can’t blame him for that. You can’t blame anyone until you know the truth. Big Eddie would have expected more from you, boy. I do too, for what it’s worth.”

A watery laugh escapes me. “He would have told me to stop acting like such an idiot,” I say, wiping my eyes.

Abe smiles. “And he would have loved you no matter what. This man. This… angel. Cal. Calliel. Is he… do you care for him?”

I know what he’s asking. I can’t lie to him. I won’t. “Yes.”

“And does he feel the same?”

Yes, Benji. God help me, yes. I don’t want anything more than you. I want nothing less than you.

“Yes,” I whisper. “More than I probably know. He’s… watched me. For a long time.”

Abe nods. “Things like these always have a way of working themselves out. You’ll see. It’ll be right as rain before you know it. You just have to have a little faith.”

He might be right. And before I can think otherwise, I’m spilling the details of the argument Cal and I had, details I didn’t think I’d share when Abe had arrived. But it’s out and when I finish, he squeezes my shoulder. Relaying it out loud makes me want to kick myself for how ridiculous I’d been. I never should have pushed him. I never should have let it come to this.

“He’s right, you know,” Abe says after a time.

I snort. “About which part?”

He turns to look at me, his face stern. “About messing around with Griggs. You saw the way he looked at you yesterday, Benji! He knew. He is not a man to cross, believe me. I’ve seen men like him before. No good can come from it. Let someone else handle it. You call that government man who came by last week. That FBI agent. What was his name?”

“Corwin.”

“You call Agent Corwin if you think it’s important. Or let me do it for you. You let them handle it. But you let it alone, you hear me? You don’t want to be in their sights, boy. Not a single one of them. I don’t know