so his kids wouldn’t drop by without calling first, where he wouldn’t have to answer a lot of questions. The statue had been his well-kept secret. Until Jack Plumb walked into his dining room.
Having Jack Plumb inside his house, walking in circles around the statue like he was evaluating a used car, had caused an unpleasant shift in Tommy. Maybe it wasn’t only Jack, maybe it was the passing of time, the nature of grief, but when he took the statue out of its hiding place now, all he could hear was Jack Plumb saying, Where did you get this? For years, Tommy had worried about somebody seeing the statue, his daughters mostly. And now that someone had, he started to think more clearly about what might happen if he was caught. He hadn’t looked at the statue in more than a week.
Today, two of his three daughters were visiting. He almost always went to them, but a few times a year they planned a trip into “the city” and would detour to Tommy’s place first, delivering bags of groceries they imagined he needed.
His family never managed to hide their dismay at his living conditions and as Maggie and Val barged through the front door, five grandchildren between them now, he braced himself for their familiar complaints and pinched mouths.
“This place could be nice, Dad,” Val said for the hundredth time, “if you’d put in a little effort.” She was unloading groceries onto the kitchen shelves, opening up a package of bright green sponges and using one to wipe down the cabinetry.
“You don’t have to do that,” Tommy said. “Sit.”
“I don’t mind,” she said.
“Why don’t you get some furniture that actually fits in here?” Maggie said. “We could go look for a new sofa today if you want. We could help you pick something out.” She was right. The sofa he’d kept was meant for a much larger room, not the narrow proportions of a brownstone parlor.
“It’s fine. I’m fine. I’m not expecting Better Homes and Gardens to drop by and take photos.”
“Why is this locked?” Val was standing now in front of the built-in china cabinet in the dining room. The top half was meant for display and Tommy had put a few pieces of their wedding china on the shelves, his one attempt at “decorating.” The bottom half of the cabinet was meant for storage. He’d removed the interior shelves and the bottom baseboard but left the doors in place to conceal the cavernous interior, which neatly fit the statue on its dolly. He could wheel it in and out when he wanted. The doors were padlocked now.
“It’s nothing. A few valuables.”
“Mom’s stuff?” Maggie had an edge to her voice.
“Everything that belonged to Mom is in the boxes I gave you. Like I’ve told you.”
She was staring at the cabinet. “Is this neighborhood that bad? You need to padlock valuables?”
He didn’t know how to answer (the neighborhood was fine), so he just made a dismissive sound and tried to move everyone back to the living room.
“Oh my God,” Maggie said. She grabbed his arm and spoke quietly so the kids wouldn’t hear. “Do you have a gun in there?”
“What?”
“You look as guilty as sin. You have a goddamn gun in this house, the house where we bring your grandchildren.”
“There’s no gun. Calm down. And I don’t like your tone, young lady. I’m still your father.” Tommy was desperate to distract her from the cabinet.
“What else do you own that you need to keep under lock and key in an empty dining room?”
Maggie’s youngest son (Ron, named for the grandmother he’d never met) was clinging to his mother’s leg and whimpering.
“What?” she asked, bending down and making her voice bright. “What’s wrong, peanut?”
“I don’t like it here.”
“Don’t be silly,” she said. “This is Grandpa’s house.”
“I like his old house better.”
Tommy didn’t know what to say so he just watched Maggie stroking the child’s head, comforting him. “Let’s have some lunch and then we’ll go for a nice walk,” she said. “There’s a park nearby with a playground. Right, Dad?”
But Ron couldn’t be soothed. “This house isn’t friendly,” he said, crying in earnest now. He whispered something into Maggie’s ear, and she shook her head and hugged him tight. “No, no, baby. That’s not true. Everything here is friendly.”
Val took the kids into the kitchen to make lunch, and Maggie pulled Tommy aside. “Dad, I’ve got to tell you. There is something wrong about”—she waved her arm, taking in the