Dad did not blink.
“I didn’t ask if you did.”
The officer nearest us became more attentive.
Vanessa whispered, “Grant.”
He snapped, “What?”
“Stop talking.”
Dad looked at me.
That was when I understood why he had insisted on coming instead of confronting them by phone.
People reveal different truths when there is nowhere to hang up.
The officers separated Vanessa and Grant and started asking questions.
Dad stood beside me in the cold.
He looked exhausted.
I touched his arm.
“Want to go inside?”
He shook his head.
“Not yet.”
Harold called while we waited.
Dad answered.
The retired funeral director had obtained the number used to make the inquiry about Dad’s funeral arrangements.
It was not Vanessa’s.
It belonged to Grant.
Dad closed his eyes.
Only briefly.
When he opened them, something had settled inside him.
Not vengeance.
Decision.
The police could not arrest anyone simply for asking questions or making an ugly lie during a phone call.
