“Yes, yes,” said the man, stepping forward to shake my hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. May I call you Mila?”
“Of course,” I said, looking between Dr. Berry and Dr. Statler. Associate professor? Where had that come from? “Wait a minute,” I mumbled.
Both men stopped talking midsentence. I pulled the letter out of my handbag and looked at the date. Coincidentally, it was sent two weeks after my father’s death, and one day after the Wall Street Journal article reported his passing along with the news that I was the sole heir to his fortune.
“I stopped in today to let you know that I cannot accept your offer of a contract renewal—”
“You do understand that our intention is to bring you back as an associate professor rather than an adjunct instructor?” said Dr. Statler.
“I do, and thank you, but I am relocating and will no longer be living in Boston.”
“How disappointing to hear,” said Dr. Berry, eyeing Dr. Statler.
“Where will you be relocating?” asked the red-in-the-face head of my former department.
“Texas. As I’m sure you’re aware, I have recently inherited my father’s business holdings.” I turned around to leave, but looked over my shoulder. “Have a nice afternoon, gentlemen.”
I stalked out of the office and back out to the street. I kept walking without any idea of where I was going, but eventually, I ended up at the same park where Adler and I had been the night I got the call about Sybil’s murder. Of course I hadn’t known it was a murder then. I also hadn’t known that Adler Livingston was the worst kind of man…other than his rapist father. The other thing I hadn’t known was that Sybil was only my half-sister. Not that it made any difference. My only regret about Sybil was that we’d never managed to become closer. If I had the chance to do everything over again, I’d be a better role model to my younger sibling.
The bench where I’d gone to return my sister’s call that night was empty. I walked over and ran my hand over the back of it. So much life had happened since that night. So much death too.
Instead of sitting there, I walked over to the area in front of the park’s bandshell and sat in the grass. As Casper said, Adler was a piece of crap of a human being, but that didn’t stop me from missing him sometimes. That didn’t mean I ever wanted to talk to him or see him again, but he had been my friend for four years, and in that time, we’d had fun.
My first night back in Boston, I thought about calling some of the friends I’d made both when I was a student and an instructor at the college, but when I ran down the mental list of who, there wasn’t anyone I felt like talking to.
I didn’t today either. At least no one in Boston. The person I really wanted to talk to was back in Texas, and I’d just lied to my former boss, saying that’s where I planned to relocate.
But had it been a lie? What was there for me here? Even if things didn’t go anywhere between me and Decker, there was still more for me in my home state than there had ever been for me here.
My fingers ached to play the piano, and while I could now afford to buy one, it meant I’d have to move in order to have enough space. Was there anywhere else in Boston I’d want to live? Nowhere was coming to mind.
In Texas, I already had a home.
43
Decker
“Mind if I ride out with you?” Edge asked when he came into the barn and found me in the office.
“You ask me that every day.”
“You aren’t the easiest asshole to get along with these days,” shouted Quint from his perch on the gate of an empty stall.
I didn’t bother to raise my head when I flipped my friend off.
Edge tossed an envelope on the corner of my desk.
“What’s that?”
“Property report on the Brandywine Ranch.”
“Brandywine? Why?”
Edge turned around and made eye contact with Quint. Both men turned and looked at me.
“Jesus. What?”
“He doesn’t know,” said Quint, coming in to sit on the edge of the desk.