Chip's eyebrows raise ashe continues shaking Sam's hand.He doesn't trust him, that much isobvious.Of course, he knows what happened with my lastboyfriend.
"Did you drive down?"Iask Chip.
He nods."Left at dawn,woulda got here earlier, but I-95 was shit."
"Are you drivin' backtonight?"I ask.
"Is this bullshit hearingover?"he asks, already knowing the answer, so I don't offer himone."Then I ain't goin' anywhere, Rory girl," he saysmeaningfully.
Hearing the nickname bothtwists my heart painfully and makes me smile.That's what griefdoes once you've actually begun to process it, which I'm startingto realize I have, thanks to Michelle's Cam box.It makes you thinkof the happy times, and makes you miss them terribly at the sametime.
"Well, where are youstaying?"I ask.
He shrugs."Haven't quitefigured that out just yet.I'll find a motel."
I look up atSam.
"I'll get you a room atour hotel," he offers.
Chip starts to argue, butSam explains his hookup and Chip relents.My mother wants to workon the case tonight, so Sam, Chip and I plan to have dinnertogether and catch up.I want them to get over their distrust ofone another.I want them to like each other.Because Chip has noromantic interest in me and Sam would never hurt me, and once theyboth realize that, I'm sure they can be friends.
Chapter Seventeen
Rory's mom is still talking to Prosecutor Counter and Rory andChip are chatting like the lifelong friends they obviously are, soI decide to give them a few minutes to catch up in private.Thetruth is I could also use a few minutes.Hearing Rory recount allthat—watching her relive it… it wasn't easy for me.I leave themtalking and head to the men's room.
It's good that they'restill in the courtroom because I stop cold when I turn the cornerto find her father andthat motherfuckingbastard'sfather standing around talkingabout the day's proceedings.
Fuckingtraitor.
Neither man notices me andI don't make myself known.As much as I'd love to tell them bothoff—or fucking deck them—I know that wouldn't be helpful toRory.
Robert Forbes takes theopportunity to say some nasty things about Rory's testimony and Igrit my teeth to stop myself from reacting.I wait there, notwanting to pass them, which I have to do to get to thebathroom.
"Your daughter is one goodliar," Forbes observes.
I wait for Rory's assholefather to agree, or at least respond, but his silence surprises me.Both times I've met him he's jumped at the chance to condemn Rory.There's a long, pregnant pause and, for some reason, it startlesme.
"She's not, actually," herfather mutters so quietly I almost can't make it out.
I listen more intently,suddenly riveted by the exchange.
Forbes scowls."What?"
There's another long pausebefore Rory's father speaks again.I stare at the small glimpse ofprofile I can see of him, his introspective expression confusing medeeply.
"When Rory was nine shebroke a vase," he says cryptically.
Forbes glares at him withimpatience, but he doesn't seem to care.
"I came home from golfin'early—with you, actually—on account of a sudden rainstorm, andthere it was, shattered on the livin' room floor.I went up to herroom to ask her about it.Cam Foster was with her, told me theyheard a noise, but had no idea what had happened.That it mustabeen the cat."
Rory's dad lets out asoft, ironic snicker at the memory."Kid was a good liar.Convincing as all hell.I asked Rory if that was the way of it.Yousee, those kids couldn't go an hour without tossin' a baseballaround those days.Little League season was just startin' out andRory was intent on startin' with the boys.She never could warm abench.
"But like I said, it wasrainin'.They weren't supposed to play ball in the house, Rory knewthat…"
He trails off for amoment, Forbes watching him both warily and with frustration."Honestly, Marty, my son is on trial for sexual assault andbattery!His entire goddamn future is at risk because of yourdaughter!Why the hell am I listenin' to this stupidstory—"
But Rory's father cutsForbes off, continuing as if he wasn't interrupted in the firstplace.
