Troy carried my small suitcase
out to the parking lot. My father stepped out of his car and watched us approach.
“This is Troy Matzner,” I said. I nearly laughed at the way they looked each other over. They reminded me of gunfighters in an old western, only the two of them waiting to see who would reach for his handshake first. Troy, more nervous than I had ever seen him with anyone, offered his hand quickly.
“Happy to meet you, Mr. Fitzgerald.”
“Glad to meet you, too,” my father said, shaking his hand. He glanced at me. “Heard a little about you.”
“A little is enough,” Troy quipped.
My father smiled. “When are you heading home?”
“About ten minutes after you leave,” Troy said. “We’re nearby, so I don’t have to rush.”
“I heard. I know your dad’s company well.” He glanced at me and then picked up my suitcase. “Have a great holiday,” he told Troy, and busied himself with putting my suitcase in the trunk so Troy and I could say a quick good-bye, with a quick kiss, too.
“Should be good weather the whole weekend from what I hear,” my father said, gazing around.
“Good,” Troy said. “Maybe I’ll take a ride.”
My father nodded. “Ready, Kaylee?”
“Yes. I’ll call you, and we can plan your visit,” I told Troy, and got into the car.
He stood there watching us back out and drive off.
“My imagination, or was that boy really sad to see you leave?” my father asked.
“Maybe a little of both.”
He laughed. “When would he visit?” he asked, more concerned about that. We both knew why.
“Not until Saturday, maybe. Let’s wait and see,” I said.
“Very good idea. Wait and see,” he repeated. “In the meantime, Irene tells me your mother has been working hard on the Thanksgiving dinner. She went out with her to buy all the food and has the dining room looking beautiful. She even put up some old decorations.”
“She wants to forget everything as quickly as she can,” I said. My father nodded.
“How does that make you feel?” he asked.
“Playing therapist?” I regretted how quickly I had come back at him. I saw the sting in his eyes. “I don’t blame you,” I said. “I know you’re worried.”
“I just want what’s best for you right now, Kaylee. That’s my priority.” He turned to me with that intense gaze he could draw up instantly. “I mean it.”
“I know, Daddy. Thanks,” I said.
The little ball of tension and anxiety that had begun rolling around inside me the moment we left Littlefield grew bigger and bigger as we drew closer to my home, and by the time we arrived, it felt like a bowling ball.
“Your mother gave me a dress, shoes, and a jacket for Haylee to wear out of the institution,” my father said before we got out of the car. “I brought it there yesterday, but I didn’t see her. I made a point of telling your mother not to expect you to be wearing the same outfit and not to lay it out for you. I warned her that I would bring Haylee right back to the institution if she pulled any of that stuff.”
“What did she say?”
“She said the two of you should make those decisions yourselves now.”
“I hope she meant it.”
“I’ll be a phone call away. Dana and I are having a small dinner at her place Thursday night. Her brother, who lives in Philadelphia, is coming with his wife. They have a ten-year-old boy and an eight-year-old girl.”