All of this together pointed to one unsettling theory: whoever did this was a real pro. Even with the crude step of using a match taped to a door. I felt like it was all intentional. Someone purposely used household items to create the explosion. I had to figure out how to stop them.

Chapter 11

Chapter 11

A few days later, I was no closer to finding an answer to my questions. I hadn’t told Alicia about my concerns because I didn’t want to scare her, and I didn’t want to look like some kind of conspiracy nut.

I was in an upbeat mood because it was time for my mom to come home. I had already helped Alicia get settled in the second bedroom at my mom’s house. She was thrilled with the chance to help my mom, who she knew from the hospital. She was also grateful she had a comfortable place to live.

I drove my mom in her big Buick LaCrosse. I was jumpy. Every time I saw any sort of SUV, I checked it out carefully. I was starting to see blue SUVs everywhere.

When we got to the house, I pushed my mom in a wheelchair up the ramp Bill and I had built the day before. Just simple plywood, but knowing my mom, we painted it the same color yellow as the house. It looked natural.

Just as we got to the top of the ramp, my mom turned and motioned me closer. She patted me on the cheek and said, “That ramp is beautiful. It looks like a professional did it. Thank you so much.”

Instantly, I was transported back to second grade, when my mom made me feel like I would definitely win the science fair with my in-depth look at the differences between green beans and lima beans. She had always made Natty and me feel like we could do anything.

We got her settled comfortably on the couch. She barked at Natty to bring her the TV remote. She wanted to watch all the Jeopardy! episodes that had been saved on DVR. I noticed Bart Simpson was quiet, sitting carefully at the end of the couch. He sensed that she was injured, but he didn’t want to be too far away from her.

Dolores Hackmacher had made some Toll House cookies. Natty and I both tried to steal several, only to be caught by my mom. She ordered Natty to come closer to the couch. When he stepped over to her, she gave him a little smack on the cheek and said, “Act your age.”

Natty held his cheek and said, “Jesus Christ…”

That earned him a serious slap.

Natty said, “C’mon, Mom, what was that for? You curse all the time.”