In Her Wake: A Ten Tiny Breaths Novella (The Ten Tiny Breaths Series) by Tucker K.A

Author:Tucker, K.A. [Tucker, K.A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Atria Books
Published: 2014-08-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

April 25, 2010

The puck sails into the net with fifteen seconds left in the second period, sending the stadium into a frenzy.

My dad slaps my back—just like he always does when the team we’re cheering for scores a goal. Except this time, we’re at Madison Square Garden, watching the game live. “I’m going to run to the restroom before the intermission.”

I watch him weave his way up the concrete steps, noticing that the gray at his temples has spread. The last two years seem to have aged him faster than the ten before.

“He arm-wrestled Tesky in my office for your tickets,” one of my dad’s firm partners, Rolans, calls out from beside me.

“Was he in his suit?” A mental image of my dad, fists locked with the law firm’s token partner—a seventy-five-year-old man who no longer takes cases and simply “counsels” and collects earnings—makes me smirk.

“Sleeves rolled up,” Rolans confirms, adding more somberly, “he almost lost.”

“No.”

“Yeah, I’m serious.” By the look on Rolans’s face, I instantly know he’s telling the truth. “Your dad’s worn out. We’ve tried to force him to take a vacation, but he refuses. The billable hours he’s putting in are fantastic, but they’re going to kill him. This lawsuit is going to—”

“What lawsuit?” I interrupt.

“The one from your accident.” He emphasizes that last word in a way that makes me think he has a distinct opinion about it. One that’s not favorable toward me.

“The Turner family? I thought that was settled out of court.”

“No, the Monroes. You know, the teenage girl who died?”

I feel my face screw up. I didn’t even know they were suing.

“They’re going after your dad for more money and he feels guilty enough to pay out. If you had any idea how much he’s already lost in this . . .” Rolans shakes his head, his eyes trailing the Zamboni as it cleans the ice.

“How long has that been going on?” How long has he hidden it from me?

“A while.”

“But the accident was two years ago.”

He glances over at his daughter, April, whose focus is glued to her phone screen, as any typical fourteen-year-old’s would be. “When you lose a kid, two years is nothing. Those parents will be missing their daughter for the next fifty years.” Rolans’s eyes flicker behind me, warning me that my dad is back before he takes his seat, ending all conversation.

The third period begins.

But in my head, it’s already over.

■ ■ ■

“Good game, right?” my dad hollers from the kitchen.

I don’t answer, simply taking in the wall of pictures. A shrine to our family. Some I recognize from the living room wall of the house my parents shared. Some must have been dug up from the shoe boxes my mom kept under her bed. The three of us together, my dad and me at hockey and football practice, my mom and me on the beach. Sasha and me in the backyard. My parents’ wedding photos.

The full bottle of Johnnie Walker that sat on the bookshelf three nights ago when I arrived at his house in Astoria now sits half-empty.

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