If he was going to be reasonable, Cole would’ve had to admit she was right. His clashes with his dad had been angry, the possibility of violence hovering. But Cole had never so much as struck out at his father, and couldn’t forgive him for believing he was capable of killing a man.
No, not a man—a boy, at least from Cole’s perspective now. The kid, who still had lingering acne, had just turned twenty-one and been working at the convenience store for a month. Cole had only been a year older. There’d probably been terror in the guy’s eyes when he saw the gun pointed at him. Cole didn’t know, because he wasn’t there. The photos of the victim exhibited at the trial had haunted him. How could anyone who knew him think he’d pulled that trigger? Especially the man who’d raised him?
Yeah, but if he’d stayed with the same group of friends, gotten deeper into drugs, needing money to feed an addiction, might he have become someone who would have done exactly that? Wondering had caused him some bleak hours.
“You mind if I give him your phone number?” his sister asked.
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
“Okay,” she said after a minute. “I guess I understand.”
“When do you think you can come?”
She said she’d call next week, once she knew the kids’ schedules.
By then, he thought, laying the phone on the 1950s-vintage end table, he might have his driver’s license. He’d open a bank account, too. Get a debit card, like everyone else had. One evening, Erin had shown him how she paid her bills online. He could do that—once he had bills. And, oh, yeah, a computer. Which he would, in the not-too-distant future. It wouldn’t be long until he’d done the basic work to update this apartment. Then he’d either have to pay rent or move on.
* * *
ERIN FINISHED THE page in her book—and realized she didn’t remember anything she’d read on this page, or the last several.
This was Tuesday—D-day, so to speak.
The Department of Motor Vehicles wasn’t nearly as crowded as she’d expected this morning, meaning she was one of only about a dozen people sitting in the waiting area. Cole hadn’t seemed nervous about taking the test, although it was never easy to tell, because he excelled at hiding his emotions. In fact, during the drive here, he’d talked about how the work on the bathroom was going. He was currently without a toilet until he laid the vinyl flooring this afternoon. He planned to wait to install new molding and to paint until he was ready to do the entire apartment.
Which meant it was time she chose some cabinets for the kitchen area.
The door behind her opened, and she turned to see a man enter, Cole behind him. He flashed her a grin. She smiled in return.
Once he’d had his photo taken and accepted a temporary license, which he placed carefully in his wallet, he was ready to leave.
The minute they were outside, Erin asked, “It went okay, then?”
“No problem at all.” He was quiet until they’d crossed the parking lot. “Not like the first time I took the test.” He offered her the keys, but she shook her head and went around to the passenger side.
Once in the car, she said, “Did you really screw up?”
“Yeah.” He started the engine. “I ran a red light.”
“No!”
“Yup. We came straight back to the DMV.” He chuckled. “Man, I was so cocky. I couldn’t take the test again for—I don’t remember. Weeks. I had to make an excuse to my friends for why I hadn’t done it yet. No way was I going to tell them I’d flunked. Dealing with Dad was bad enough. In his book, nerves weren’t an acceptable excuse.”
Erin laughed, too.
“Being a DMV examiner has got to be as scary as teaching driver’s ed,” Cole remarked. “Although today we never did go out on either Highway 9 or the freeway.”
“Self-preservation.”
He laughed, the sound still a little rusty, but coming so much more readily than it had before.
“Any errands?” he asked, and she told him no.
When they got back, she said, “I have you on my insurance for the moment, so you’re welcome to borrow the car. Just let me know.”