“Why?”
“Because…” I had to come up with something quick. “Kyle needs you.”
He stopped sniffing and glanced up at me. “No, Dad, he needs you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? You don’t think I’m carrying my weight?”
“Just saying, Mitch was watching Kyle. Not you. So now that the golden boy is gone, suddenly I’m the back-up plan? Nah. He’s your kid. You watch him.”
Keith had touched a nerve. “You think I’m sitting on my ass all day? I’m out there searching for your brother. What are you doing? Smoking pot with your loser friends?”
“Seriously, Dad, you really think you’re the one who’s going to crack this when there’s a whole team of highly specialized federal agents working on his case?”
“They might be specialized, but they don’t love him like I do.”
Keith went still and dropped his eyes. “Yeah, well, if love was enough to bring him back, he’d already be home by now.”
The truth of that stung.
Keith decided on a shirt and headed for the door.
“Sure you don’t want to use the window?”
“Windows are for kids. See, I turned eighteen last week.” He paused for effect. “I know—you forgot. Everyone did. Not that I’m blaming you. It was a rough week. My point is, you don’t get to decide if I stay or go anymore. So… see ya.”
It wasn’t like we’d forgotten his birthday à laSixteen Candles. We were just knee-deep in hell.
“I’m sorry about your birthday,” I said.
He barked out a laugh. “You really think it’s about that? I don’t give a shit about my birthday.”
“Then what is it? Talk to me, Keith.” I softened my tone. “What’s happening with you?”
“What’s happening with me?” He spread his hands. “Let’s see—my little brother was snatched off the street, my life hasturned into aDatelineepisode, and Mom made me wear seersucker to a press conference.”
“You’re describing everyone in this house. At least your shirt didn’t have tiny whales on it. Try again.”
Keith hesitated, like he might actually trust me with his secrets, but nothing came easy anymore. He clammed up. I’d always prided myself on being a good dad, a present one, but now, I just felt defeated.
“You’re scaring the hell out of me, kid. Those people you’re running with don’t care if you wake up tomorrow. I do.”
“I don’t,” he said under his breath.
“What did you say?”
“Nothing.”
He headed for the front door.
“Keith—”
“I was being dramatic, Dad. I’m fine. I just cope better when I’m high.”
“Don’t we all? But you can’t smoke your way out of this.”
“Maybe not,” he said as he stepped outside. “But I’m sure gonna try.”
The door shut behind him, and that’s when I heard the scoff.
