she’d never really thought of the place as home, no matter how much furniture she’d stuffed it with—just as she never truly came to see the marriage as hers.
Allie was only fifteen minutes from Brandywine Hunt, but ever since the night Kyle died, she’d never felt the same about the place. It was no longer home. She felt so dislocated from it altogether, and from herself. She wondered if you could have a self if you didn’t have a home. Growing up, she’d felt like the development was her neighborhood, but after Kyle’s death it became the location of the worst thing she had ever done in her life, a crime scene. Although in truth her sense of dislocation had probably begun after Jill’s death, Kyle’s death had severed her location utterly. Since her mother died, her father lived there alone, a shell of a man in a shell of a house.
He’d thrown himself into his work, practically doubling his hours as an orthodontist, and he’d done more with less, since Invisalign had cut into his business. There were even chain orthodonture clinics, as dental medicine had corporatized, like everything else. He’d stopped the Jog For Jill 5K, which never caught on. Cystic fibrosis still killed children, and families still grieved. Research made advances, and Allie would read the headlines in the newspaper, her heart leaping with hope, even as she felt anger that they hadn’t come soon enough for Jill.
Tears came to her eyes, and Allie realized that her father had been there for her, as much as he could be. She would have to find a way to tell him she was getting divorced. It would kill him because he adored Larry. Everybody adored Larry. Her father was closer to Larry than to her, and Allie didn’t have to be a psychiatrist to figure out that she was the one with the issue, not them. She had enough issues for the entire family. But she had to change that, starting now. She picked up her phone, scrolled to her favorites, and called her father’s cell.
He picked up after one ring. “Allie, how nice to hear from you!”
“Hi, Dad,” Allie said, her throat suddenly thick. Something about the sound of his voice broke down whatever wall she usually hid behind. “I just want to say hi.”
“What’s the matter?”
“Everything’s fine,” Allie managed to say.
“No, what’s the matter? I can tell.”
“Nah, I’m fine.” Allie tried to laugh it off.
“It doesn’t sound like it.”
Allie typically would’ve persisted in denying the truth, but she couldn’t bring herself to do that anymore. “Honestly, Dad, things aren’t going so well. I’m actually in the area. I had a funeral.”
“Oh, no, is that why you’re upset?”
“No, there’s a lot, well, uh, Larry and I might be getting a divorce.”
“Oh, no!” Her father gasped. “That’s terrible news!”
“I know.” Allie fought tears, hearing the shock in his voice. “I’m sorry, Dad, I’m really sorry, it’s all my fault, everything.”
“No, honey, not you.”
“Dad, I made so many mistakes with him, and he was a good husband, a great guy, but he couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t take me anymore.” Allie felt herself give way to tears. “Dad, I don’t blame him, I can’t take me anymore, I’m so sick of myself, I’m sick to death of myself.”
“Honey, where did you say you are?”
“Fraser.”
“Okay, so why don’t you meet me at home in an hour? I’ll be there. We’ll have dinner. Hotdogs, like we used to. Remember? You used to love them?”
“Dad, you were the one who loved the hotdogs, not me.”
“What?” Her father paused. “That’s not how I remember it. I only ate them for you.”
“I ate them for you!”
“Honey, go straight home. The key is under the pot, you remember.”
Allie didn’t, having blanked out so much about the house. She hadn’t been there much since her mother’s death. She always sensed her father preferred to come in town anyway, to mingle with Larry, her in-laws, and the boisterous extended Rucci family, who brought the fun on the holidays, birthdays, and other occasions. Allie wondered if every crappy family married into a good one.
“So will you meet me? I’m almost finished here. I’ll be there in an hour.”
“Okay,” Allie agreed, reluctant.
“I have to go now.”
“Okay, love you.”
“Love you, too, honey. Go home.”
“Okay, bye.” Allie hung up, with his lovely word resonating in her chest.
Home.
CHAPTER 62
Julian Browne
Julian sat on his couch, being interviewed by Detectives Moran and Garcia while official activity whirled around them. According to police protocol, Julian’s