What Happened That Night
18
Brandy
Edmonds, Washington – 2018
Tuesday afternoon,I poured coffee into my mug for the hundredth time that day, grateful I’d been able to use one of my personal days to stay home from work. Glancing at the clock above my kitchen table, I breathed a sigh of relief to see it was just after one. Thankfully, I still had several hours before Aunt Ruthie brought the boys home from Terrific Twin Time.
In the meantime, I needed to abandon the is-my-father-innocent-or-is-he-not project and clean the house. The mess was getting on my nerves, and Troy was definitely on edge.
“This obsession over Eddie is making you miserable,” he told me as he left for work this morning. “Even if you find something helpful for his case, you’re not going to be able to change anything.”
“Wow, thank you for your confidence, counselor.”
He sighed. “Overturning a conviction is nearly impossible, especially without DNA evidence. In a case like Eddie’s, with your aunt’s testimony... I don’t think it’s going to happen, Brandy. I’m sorry, but that’s just a fact.”
Despite fearing he was right, it took every ounce of my self-control not to hurl my coffee cup across the room.
Like father like daughter,I thought, ashamed of my temper.
Still, I couldn’t stop my research. If there was any possibility that my father was innocent, I owed it to him to find out for sure. If I ended up discovering he was guilty... Well, I just needed to know for my own peace of mind one way or the other.
Lately, I’d been thinking about flying down to Texas to talk directly to my father. Part of me thought it might be helpful and give me answers. Another part worried it would just confuse my ability to see the truth.
Then there was Aunt Ruthie. How would she react if she found out I was visiting my father because I thought he might be innocent?
The sound of the doorbell startled me, causing me to splash coffee all over my bathrobe and the counter. It was probably just a package being dropped off. Somehow, we’d gone from being a family concerned about the environmental impact of home delivery to fully embracing the one-click convenience of cat food and toilet paper magically appearing on our doorstep.
I peeled off my bathrobe and used the sleeve to mop up the coffee dripping down the cabinet. No use in getting a towel dirty when I was going to have to wash my bathrobe anyway.
The doorbell rang again. Was someone waiting for me to actually answer the door? Cautiously, I peered around the corner. Through the window, I saw Lia holding the electric screwdriver she’d borrowed a few months ago.
Guilt washed over me. Other than that quick text congratulating her on the twins, we hadn’t talked in ages. I missed her, but I wasn’t ready to deal the grief she’d give me about my father.
Knowing I couldn’t avoid her forever, I smoothed down my much-needed-to-be-washed hair and answered the door. “Lia. Hi.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong? Are you sick?”
For the longest time I didn’t say anything. I could pretend I was sick, but that wasn’t a very honorable thing to do when I was perfectly healthy. “I’m not sick. I just didn’t sleep well last night.” Or the previous several nights since receiving Dottie’s package.
“I’m sorry you’re not sleeping. Is something wrong?”
“No.” My voice betrayed me. Lia was horrible at lying, but I was even worse. “I’m just in the middle of something.”
“What kind of something?”
“A project.”
“Oh, well, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just wanted to return your electric screwdriver. I’m sorry I had it so long. I was just going to leave it on your front porch, but then I saw your car in the driveway. Didn’t you have work today?”
Taking the screwdriver from her, I shook my head. “I took the day off.”
“Oh, okay. That’s good.”
“Yeah.”
She then pinned me with an accusatory gaze. “Brandy, are you on drugs or something? You look horrible, and you’re acting kind of strange.”
I smiled. Leave it to Lia to state the obvious. “I’m not on drugs, unless you consider coffee a drug.”