We both laughed. As he turned onto our street and rolled up to the curb in front, Maggie shot out from the front door even before I was able to open my door.

  “Out, bro,” Maggie said with a big retaliatory grin on her face, thrusting her thumb as I had done to her.

  Chapter 15

  Graduation was finally upon us. The inspirational speeches were good, but nothing compared to Nelson Purdon’s commencement speech. Nelson’s an alumnus, who went on to play football in the NFL (National Football League).

  As we walked into the gymnasium, Nelson gave us all high-fives, and his speech talked about overcoming obstacles and chasing our dream. He talked about the car accident he was in after high school and how the doctor doubted he’d ever be able to play football again. He said he was proof that with determination and perseverance, you can do anything. We all roared and gave him a standing ovation.

  His speech was something I hope never to forget. After the ceremony I found Mom and Maggie sitting with Bobby’s parents.

  “I’m so proud of you Cole,” Mom said.

  “Me too, bro,” Maggie added.

  “Grandpa would have been proud too. I’m so sorry he didn’t make it to see you graduate,” Mom said, with sadness.

  “I want to speak with you more about Grandpa,” I said, “Later.”

  “Okay,” Mom replied.

  Bobby sneaked up behind me, gave me a bear hug, pinning my arms to my sides and lifted me off my feet. “We did it! We did it! We did it!” he chanted, as he bounced me in the air a few times, and popped the cap off my head. Maggie laughed.

  Jason emerged from the crowd of blue caps and gowns, and parents and siblings, to walk toward our small huddle and asked, “Are you guys ready to meet up at Pizza and Pasta?”

  We all replied, “YES!”

  Jason said, “Let’s do it then. See you all there.”

  Bobby and his parents, in addition to Jason, his parents, his brother, and sister, and Mom, Maggie and I all had a large table reserved for our celebratory dinner. Dad didn’t join us because he didn’t feel well. We all knew what that meant. Maggie rode with Bobby and his parents, leaving Mom and me alone in my car. The restaurant was maybe five minutes away if we hit the traffic light red.

  “Can I ask you a few questions about Grandpa?” I asked Mom.

  “Sure.”

  “I think he went downhill too fast. And I think Dad did something to push him along,” I blurted out.

  “No! No way! Please don’t ever say that ever again. It’s a horrible thought,” she replied, “Grandpa was dying on the inside, it just didn’t show on the outside.”

  “I don’t believe it,” I said.

  “Please don’t do this. Please let Grandpa’s story end naturally.”

  “People don’t just go, from joking about beating Dad with a baseball bat one night to a week later practically being in a coma, waking for a moment so thirsty he guzzled an entire glass filled with water.”

  “Why and how our bodies fail is unique and often unknown,” Mom replied, as she fished a tissue from her handbag.

  “I overheard Dad telling you to ask Grandpa for money. And from that day on, his health went downhill real fast,” I said, “You told Dad you’d handle it. What did you mean?”

  “I’m sorry you heard our private conversation,” she said.

  A guilt twinge jabbed at me for eavesdropping. We pulled into the parking lot and saw our motley group waving us toward a parking space. There aren’t many restaurants in Brookfield, which meant they were all busy, with everyone from graduation. As Mom placed her hand on the door handle, to get out of the car, I gently held her left arm. “Can we talk more on the way home?”

  “Of course,” she gave me a slight smile.

  As soon as I began to open my door, Bobby yanked it open and squealed, “Let’s get this party started.”

  The restaurant owner I worked for, Savino Sperrazzo, treated our group like royalty, setting up our table in full celebratory style. Balloons, confetti, streamers, with ‘Congratulations Graduates’ signs, hanging from the ceiling, it was all there.

  I was pretty sure his wife, Katarina, had a lot more to do with the decorations than Savino did.

  Savino pulled me aside and hugged me tightly, whispering in my ear, “Your family dinner is no cost. No fight about it.” He was a generous, but stubborn Italian. He stretched his arms out and kept me at arm’s length, “I’m proud of you, Mac. Now, I meet your beautiful momma.”

  Savino and I joined our group, each person selecting the seat they wanted. Jason stayed with his family on one end, Bobby with his parents on the other end, and the middle three seats were left vacant for Mom, Maggie, and me.

  I introduced Savino to Mom and everyone else. He wore a permanent smile on his round, cheery face. He was graying at the temples and had a growing belly to prove how delicious his cuisine was.

  He made a few wise cracks about worrying I wasn’t going to pass twelfth grade, before filling our parents’ wine glasses with red or white. And the waitress delivered pitchers filled with soda pop, for us kids.

  Everyone at the table was in good spirits. People were talking at both ends, which made it hard to tune into a conversation. I took it all in, feeling grateful Dad had stayed home, but sad Grandpa wasn’t there.

  My thoughts bounced, between realizing I never had to take another class, unless it was by choice, to wondering if Mom had anything to do with Grandpa’s death. The finality of high school was liberating, but the notion Mom might have played a hand in Grandpa’s demise, utterly frightening.

  The conversations quieted down as plates with bubbling lasagna, steaming pasta bowls, and platters filled with buttery garlic bread arrived.

  In my peripheral vision, I kept an eye on Mom. She seemed the happiest I’d seen her since the day we all had burgers for lunch on the back patio. I didn’t have enough life experience or relationship experience to know the difference between happy your youngest had graduated high school and happy to be away from your abusive husband for an evening. Perhaps it was both. As the food disappeared, the conversation roared back to life.

  Bobby’s dad told the group what Bobby could expect to learn and be challenged with, while he was at the Sheriff’s Academy. Jason talked about not knowing what he wanted to do now with school completed. He told everyone he wanted me to join the air force with him. Mom and Maggie turned and looked at me, for confirmation, one way or the other.

  “I didn’t enlist,” I quickly told them.

  “Not yet,” Jason added.

  Bobby’s dad shared his experiences from when he was in the army. His advice about basic training was, keep your head down, plow through it, get up early, eat fast, train hard, clean up, endure humiliation and physical pain, and then do it all again the next day. Just as you get into a groove, it’s graduation day, and you feel relieved to have finished.

  I asked if it was hard, being told what to do and when to do, whatever. He said he didn’t mind or he wouldn’t have gone from the army to law enforcement. What he didn’t like, was being away from family, for months at a time.

  Jason gave me a thumbs-up when Bobby’s dad finished sharing his basic training experiences.

  “You love a challenge,” he said, as he wiggled his eyebrows at me. I threw my linen napkin at him. We were each served spumoni and tiramisu. The adults were offered coffee.

  To get back at Jason, I dared him to eat both desserts. He’s a super-picky eater and rarely tries anything new. He prefers a meat and potatoes diet.

  “Come on, man. You’re a big boy now, they’re both delicious and look everyone else is eating them, so you know they won’t kill you,” I egged him on, knowing full well he would not try something new.

  “No thanks,” Jason said matter-of-factly, pushing both desserts away, “If anyone wants seconds, go for it.”

  I upped the ante. “I’ll enlist with you if you eat both. All of it.”

  Maggie almost choked on her soda pop.

  He looked me straight in the eyes. “Really, bro?”

  “Really!”

  Everyone stopped talking to watch us. Jason’s parents added to my prodding. And, to my shock, he pulled both desserts close to him. With his forearms on the table, he hunkered down like he was about to eat a bowl filled with worms. He gobbled the Tiramisu in two or three bites and then slurped the spumoni which had turned into a soup-like consistency. Much to my surprise, it took him maybe thirty seconds to down both. He slammed his spoon on the table like he’d just finished an eating competition and said, “When are we signing up? Tomorrow?”

  I’m sure my jaw hung down low. Mom and Maggie looked at me. Everyone looked at me. The challenge was now on me. “Let’s talk about it, tomorrow,” I said.

  Jason lightened the pressure by saying, “Those were good.” Everyone laughed and began to leave the restaurant.

  Maggie again rode with Bobby and his parents which gave me more alone time with Mom. I drove through downtown on the way home. High school kids and their families filled both sides of the street, walking to or from a restaurant or Dad’s Ice Cream Shop.

  “So, Mom, what did you mean when you told Dad you’d take care of the money shortage situation? You could have told me. I’ve been saving since I started working,” I said while we waited at the first crosswalk, for a crowd to cross the street.

  “That’s nice of you to offer, honey, but we would never consider taking money from you,” she replied.

  “Dad wouldn’t hesitate,” I said.

  “Your dad’s not as bad a person as you seem to think he is,” she countered.

  “Really? He’s not as bad as I think? I also heard you challenge him, to hit you ‘again.’”

  She was silent.

  “Bobby and I did some research at the library, on household poisoning,” I said.

  “What? Why did you do that? Did you say something to Bobby’s dad about your conspiracy theory?” Mom’s voice sounded agitated.

  “Yes,” I said defiantly.

  “Neither your father nor I poisoned Grandpa. Now people at the sheriff’s office will think we’ve done something criminal. How could you?” She began to weep softly.

  “He won’t say anything to anyone other than his boss,” I said.

  “You’re very naive and have a lot to learn about people’s fascination with gossip,” was all she could say.

  I laid out my case, against Dad. From the rooting around in the garage, to the lemonade, explaining the information I had on salt poisoning and antifreeze poisoning. To further clarify my thoughts, I rationalized Grandpa might have tasted salt, whereas antifreeze just tastes a little sweet. A little-added sweetener to lemonade or orange juice would taste good. I wasn’t sure what other food or drink he might have doctored.

  Mom let out a heavy sigh. “Please let this go, Cole. You’re not going to bring Grandpa back, and I’m having a difficult time coping with his death, as it is. Not because I killed him, or because your father killed him, but simply because he’s gone. He may have been your grandpa, but he was my father, and I want him to rest in peace.” She blew her nose on a tissue.

  I parked at the curb and turned to get out the car. Mom held my arm. “Will you please let this go?”

  “Yes,” I conceded.

  Chapter 16

  The shit hit the fan the morning after graduation. Mom had told Dad I spoke with Bobby’s dad about him poisoning Grandpa and about Bobby and me researching household poisoning at the library. Dad and I got into a big argument, which sent Mom crying to her bedroom and Maggie outside to the front yard to wait for Bobby.

  There was no point arguing about it. I believed in my heart he’d poisoned Grandpa, and Mom was either in denial or covering for him. I let his tirade run its course, and when he stopped talking, I walked outside to Maggie. She was sitting under the shade tree.

  “Do you believe Dad poisoned Grandpa?” she asked.

  “I do,” I replied.

  “Bobby does too?”

  “You’d need to ask him,” I answered.

  “So, what now? You can’t stay living here. You and Dad will continue to fight every time you see each other and then what? He’ll poison you?” she said, with a tear slowly making its way down her cheek.

  “I’m going to look for an apartment today,” I replied.

  “I think you should enlist in the air force, with Jason. I’m going to move in with Bobby,” she said.

  “You are? When?” I exclaimed.

  “Soon. Why wait. And then Bobby will be busy at the Academy and me with nursing school. You need distance between you and Dad,” she said, before beginning to cry quietly, “I’m afraid to tell Mom I’m moving out.”

  Jason pulled up while Maggie and I sat under the shade tree talking about everything from the last few weeks. Jason flopped down on the grass under the tree. “Hot enough for you?” he asked.

  “You have no idea,” I grinned wryly.

  While we sat in the shade, I told Jason what my suspicions were about my dad and grandpa. His facial expression changed from jovial to concern, as I mapped it all out for him. I don’t know why I hadn’t told Jason before. I knew Jason wasn’t the type to gossip, in fact, he’s quite private and can keep secrets.

  Part of me wanted my suspicions to be false, even though my gut told me I was right. When I finished telling Jason my suspicions about Grandpa’s death, we agreed to not talk about it again.

  We went to the Taco House for a late lunch before checking out some apartments. The afternoon went by fast, and Jason dropped me off at the house around eight in the evening.

  When I went inside, Dad was watching TV in the living room. Mom must have been in her bedroom and Maggie in hers. I took my bag with the gear I’d purchased, straight to my room.

  There was a gentle knock on my bedroom door, and then Mom opened it. She kept a hold of the doorknob and said, “Don’t you have to…” She looked at the duffle bag on my bed and then at me and the swim shorts I was holding. “What’s going on?” she asked.

  Before I could answer Maggie poked her head through the gap from the opened door.

  “Are you moving out?” Maggie asked.

  “Yes and no.”

  Mom continued to stare at the items I’d laid on my bed. A navy-blue polo shirt, khaki pants, new dress shoes, disposable razors, and swim goggles. Because she’d never seen the stuff I’d recently purchased, she looked confused.

  Maggie and Mom both waited for me to say something. I’d run this moment through in my head numerous times throughout the afternoon, but it wasn’t starting out as well as I’d envisioned.

  “Let’s have a family meeting in the living room,” I asked, tossing the swim shorts on the bed and following them down the hall.

  Dad was seated in his recliner, with a doctored ice tea next to him, on the side table. Mom sat in her easy chair, and Maggie sat at one end of the sofa. The TV was tuned to a cop show. I turned it off and then sat at the other end of the sofa from Maggie.

  “Hey! I was watching that show,” Dad complained.

  “Cole has something he wants to say to us,” Mom said, to calm him.

  “I enlisted in the air force today,” I blurted out, “I go to ‘MEPS,’ Military Entrance Processing Station, in Sacramento, on Monday and then fly to San Antonio, Texas, on Tuesday, for basic training. Jason and I enlisted together.”

  Mom didn’t look surprised, and neither did Maggie. Dad, simply looked, uninterested.

  “How long will you be gone?” Mom asked.

  “Basic training is six weeks,” I replied, “I’ll call you when I know what day I’ll be back.”

  “What if I want to attend the graduation?” Maggie asked.

  “Me too,” Mom said softly.

  “You can. When I know more, I’ll let you both know. Dad, do you have anything you’d like to know?”

  “Nope… Urrr… Um… You do know we’re going to go to war against Iraq, don’t you?” he finally said.

  “Your concern is too little, too late,” I replied.

  “Well then, make us proud, son,” he said and then raised his iced tea glass, as in a toast before taking one big gulp.

  “I’m going to miss you terribly,” Maggie cried. She’d been crying during the entire ‘family meeting.’ She blew her nose a few times.

  “Me too,” Mom said, “but, I couldn’t be more proud of you.” She turned to look at Dad. He didn’t say anything, in fact, he looked bored and as he’d rather be watching his cop show.

  “For the record, I still believe you poisoned Grandpa,” I said to my father.

  He choked. “I told you that’s a bald-faced lie! You’re delusional. You can’t get beyond your grief to think straight.”

  “No. It’s not my grief talking, Dad. You used antifreeze to poison Grandpa. You put a little bit in his drinks.” The copies I’d made at the library were in my pants pocket. I pulled them out and handed them to Mom. “You can read this and decide for yourself. Grandpa suddenly began to display all those symptoms,” I added, “Bobby’s dad told me…”

  “I can’t believe you told your crazy story to Deputy Donaldson!” Dad shouted, with fury.

  Mom said, “Everyone will be gossiping about your father and question whether he did or didn’t do what you’ve accused him of doing.”

  “Thank you, dear,” Dad said to Mom.

  Dad watched me with growing concern in his eyes. He scoffed, “So, am I going to get arrested because you fabricated a crazy story about your grandpa and me?”

  “You don’t need to worry. There wasn’t enough evidence to warrant an autopsy for someone Grandpa’s age. According to the coroner, there weren’t any outward signs of a suspicious death. Without solid evidence, they won’t come after you.”

  A smug relief washed over his face. Right then, I was even more certain he’d poisoned Grandpa.

  “I have news too,” Maggie said, with a squeaky voice, “I’m moving in with Bobby.”

 

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