Contents (85)
- Contents
- Part I
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- 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
- Part II
- 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
- Part III
- 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
- Sixty-Six
- Sixty-Seven
- Sixty-Eight
- Sixty-Nine
- Seventy
- Seventy-One
- Seventy-Two
- One
- Two
- Reading Group Guide
- A Conversation with the Author
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
“All right,” my father says. “Everyone has what they need? Drinks? Phones? Canapés?”
“Yes,” Cora says. “We’re fine. Other than the fact that I don’t know why I’m here.”
“You’re here,” he says, “because you’re a problem. And we need to figure out what to do with you.”
There is no easing into this conversation. No soft opening jabs.
I take a sip of my drink, let the vodka settle on my tongue, and then it all begins.
Fifty-Six
“I’m the problem? Oh, I don’t think so. Not at all.”
“You are,” my father says. “The way you’ve reacted to…all this is unacceptable.”
Cora’s perched to launch a verbal assault but instead stops herself, sips her wine, and leans back into her chair. I see the change wash over her. She’s shifting away from her petulant-child persona and slipping into the coolness she wore at the trailhead. Calm and chilling.
“Funny,” she says. “And here I thought I was trying to save all of us from Rose’s terrible decisions.”
“By slitting a dog’s throat?” I say.
She shifts her gaze to mine. “I don’t know anything about that.”
“Yes,” I say, “you do. You know what you did. You’re trying to set me up for what’s happened.”
“Oh? And what has happened, Rose? I want to hear you say it. Because all I know is the police were out here talking to you about your dear departed Riley.”
I think about what’s being recorded on my phone. It’s not like it’s only selectively capturing what Cora says.
“I didn’t kill him,” I say. “And I’m through talking about it. That’s my problem, and I’m dealing with it.”
“Oh, and how are you doing that?”
“I’m leaving Bury. Going back to Milwaukee.”
My father snaps his attention to me. “Why would you want to do something like that? You’ve got everything you need here.”
“All I’m doing here is hiding from my life. I’m not happy. Max isn’t happy. I don’t want to raise him here.”
Cora crosses her legs. “You mean in a good private school and in a house rather than a hovel? Yeah, that sounds like a great idea.”
“When are you leaving?” my father asks.
“Soon as I can. Hopefully within a week.”
“I’m trying to help you, Rosie. How am I supposed to protect you when you’re not here?”
“Dad, you have this idea we need to hide behind that huge front door. That we’re only safe inside this house. Yet the worst thing that’s ever happened to me happened right here.” I nod toward the foyer. “Right over there.”
He takes a drink. “Yes, it did. And I took care of the problem. You girls did what I told you to do, and I took care of the rest.”
“Until now,” Cora says to me. “Until you wrote that fucking book.”
“Exactly what I wanted to talk about.” My father sips with conviction, and he’s nearly finished with his drink. “Why I called this family meeting. So let’s stay focused. Back then, we worked together, and we’ve made it this far. Now we need to do it again. Renew our vows, as it were.”