Her words had a certain timbre to them, Jasper imagined.Almost as though she’s on the verge of tears.
“How could you just leave her like that?” Eloise paused, sniffled a little. “I guess it’s par for the course.”
Rob stammered, his words low and unintelligible. And then Jasper heard him say, “I couldn’t stand it.” And then, clearly, the sound of Rob crying.
Jasper cringed, wanting, out of decency, to pull away from the door, to stop this horrible eavesdropping, but he couldn’t.
Rob said, “What might have been, Eloise. What might have been.”
What the hell does that mean? Simply the promise of a life snuffed out too soon? Or is there more?Jasper slid to the floor, still keeping his head close to the crack between the door and its frame.
“Oh, Rob. She needed to know.”
Now Jasper was even more confused. Needed to know what?
Rob’s voice shifted from tearful to angry in a second. “You never had to tell her. And the way you told her! Shame on you! What purpose did it serve other than spinning her out of control? And look at how things ended up.! Even if you really believed it was a good idea and not just some vindictive way to get back at me—and I think that’s exactly the reason—the least you could have done was let me tell her. You couldn’t even discuss it with me before you dropped that bomb on her!” No mistaking this last part—Rob shouted it. “You should have done the decent thing, the kind thing. Would that have been so hard?”
“She needed to know.”
“Why? What difference would it have made? She didn’t know for all these years.”
“All these years, my dear, was much too long.”
There was a long silence, so long that Jasper debated whether he should get up and join them. The tensions were so high, perhaps an interruption might be a saving grace.
“She was yourdaughter,Rob. She was your daughter. Was sheneverto know?”
Jasper shut his eyes and slumped even more.
He needed to get out of here.
Now.
Chapter 8
JASPER DIDN’Twant to hear any more. He couldn’t bear it. This was bizarro-world shit. This was out of the bounds of credulity or propriety. It was justweird.
Jasper wanted no part of it.
He put his earbuds in and plugged them into his phone. The Chainsmokers began singing “Selfie,” and it immediately brought back memories of Lacy. They’d said the song was “their” song because they’d taken so many selfies of the pair of them—in the apartment, on Fargo beach, over at the Amber Waves Café, where they liked to go for breakfast when it was in the budget, out at the bars in Andersonville or along Halsted.
Jasper had a whole album of selfies of him and Lacy, some Snapchat enhanced, mostly just the pair of them.
He pressed his phone screen to advance to the next song. Beneath the music, he could hear Eloise and Rob arguing. Although he couldn’t make out the words, he could decipher the emotions—the pain, the rage, the anguish.
This situation had been coming to a head for a long time. It was family drama. It had nothing to do with Jasper.
Except it did.
He’d loved Lacy. Like a sister. And his hurt was as real, if not even more authentic, than the two people arguing beyond his door.
I shouldn’t be here. This is like some weird dream. I should actually be waking up in my own bed and scratching my head over what it all means.
He hurriedly stuffed his clothes into the duffel and then proceeded into the bathroom to swipe what few toiletries he’d brought into the bag too.
Finally, he stood near the sliding glass doors to call an Uber. The app quickly found him and told him a Toyota Prius driven by Brad would be arriving within twenty minutes.
He didn’t want to walk by the combatants.
