Chapters (68)
- Dedication
- Title Page
- Contents
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Sixty-Two
- Sixty-Three
- Sixty-Four
- Sixty-Five
- Copyright
“Um, let me see what I can find.”
Alastair went into a room off the kitchen that featured a large television, tucked into an entertainment unit, a long, cushy couch and two reclining chairs. He opened a door on the unit and brought out a large photo album.
“I have some in here,” he said. He sat on the couch and placed the album on the coffee table, then opened the binder and pointed to a shot of a woman and three children sitting on the floor in front of a Christmas tree.
“This is from the early nineties, I think,” he said. “This was my wife, and this is Cory, and this is his brother and his sister.”
“He looks about nine or ten years old there,” Duckworth said.
“Yes, I believe so.”
Duckworth said gently, “I need something more recent.”
“Oh, of course, what was I thinking?” But Alastair had become fixated on the photo. He could not stop looking at it.
“Mr. Calder,” Duckworth said.
Alastair turned and looked at him. “You never know what’s coming. You see them when they’re just children, and the world seems so open to them, so full of promise. Those are the days when you are allowed to dream.” He grimaced. “And then as they get older, you see the potential they have. At times, it just seems limitless, that they can do anything. A little older yet and reality begins to set in. You see, instead of limitless potential, the limitations. That maybe they won’t make of their lives what you might have hoped. I was lucky, I think. Two out of three isn’t bad, right? But even with Cory, with a child that won’t be reaching for the top rung of the ladder, you hope that while he might not make the world a better place, he won’t make it worse.”
“It’s all a crap shoot,” Duckworth said.
“We think we have this ability to control things,” Alastair went on. “It’s when we try to direct our children’s lives that we realize how powerless we really are.”
“A picture?” Duckworth reminded him.
Alastair sighed. “Let me see if I have anything on my phone. I can’t remember the last time I printed out a picture or had one developed.”
Duckworth followed him to the kitchen, where Alastair found his cell sitting next to the landline. He picked it up. “Give me a second.”
He opened up the photo app and thumbed through some shots. “Here’s one,” he said. “I took Cory out for his birthday. We went to the Clover, the steak house. Cory likes beef. There he is.”