“I’m sorry I make you remember,” I tell him.
He pfftt’s me. “Oh, I love the memories. They keep me going.” He taps the end of my nose, and I close my eyes and laugh at him. “When you’re as old as me, I hope you have half as many good memories.”
“I plan to.”
“It’s good to have plans.”
We walk quietly to his house, and I gather my suitcase. “Thanks for taking care of me, Henry,” I say quietly, and I step up to kiss his cheek.
“Thanks for giving me something to worry about,” he says. “Sometimes it gets lonely when you’re old and by yourself. It’s good to have a problem to work out in your head.”
“Particularly when it’s not yours.” I laugh.
“I’d rather it be mine,” he says, and I believe him.
“I love you, Henry,” I say.
“I love you, too, kiddo,” he says. He grins at me. He pulls me toward him and hugs me tightly, holding on to me just long enough. Then he sets me back. “Go find your future,” he says.
So I do.
I’m almost giddy when I get to Paul’s apartment. I let myself in and roll my suitcase into the room. But I stop short when I see Kelly standing in the kitchen wearing nothing but one of Paul’s T-shirts. What the f**k?
“Hey, Kelly,” I manage to say.
She smiles at me over the top of a cup of coffee.
“What are you doing here?”
“Oh, Paul called me. He said he needed me.” She smiles again, but it’s acidic and almost painful to look at. “Then he left.”
“Why are you wearing his shirt?”
She shrugs. “I’m spending the night.”
“Where did he go?”
“He left with two policemen. It was kind of scary.”
What? “And you just let him leave?”
She shrugs again.
“Who the f**k are you?” I ask. “You just let him leave?”
“He needed me to be here for Hayley.” Suddenly, the grin falls off her face, and she looks worried. “Fuck,” she breathes. “I was so damn excited that he called me, of all people, that I didn’t even question why.”
“You just let him leave with them?” I am shrieking by this point, and I force myself to gentle my voice so I won’t wake Hayley.
I’m already dialing the phone. “Matt,” I say. And I tell him what I know, which is nothing. “Meet me there,” I tell him.
“I cannot f**king believe you didn’t get any information,” I tell Kelly.
But I’m already running out the door and she’s looking a little chagrined behind me. I catch a cab to the police station, and all the brothers and their girlfriends are pacing outside. Matt must have left his girls with Seth because they’re not there. Logan has Kit in her carrier. We all head inside together, and Matt goes to get the story.
He comes back, and he’s a little shell-shocked. He sinks into a chair. “It’s about Dad,” he says. “He died.”
“Where is Paul?” I ask.
“He left.” Matt shrugs.
“Dad died?” Sam says.
Matt nods. “The officer said Paul was really upset. Blaming himself.”
“Why would he do that?” Pete asks.
Matt shrugs again.
“Who’s with Hayley if we’re all here?” Reagan asks. She looks from one brother to another.
“Her mother,” I say. “I just left there.”
“She’s at Paul’s?” Matt asks.
“He called her.”
“Why would he call her instead of one of us?”
“What the f**k happened?”
“Where is he?”
They’re all talking at once, and I can’t hear any of them.
“We need to split up and go find him,” Logan suggests.
Matt nods.
“I know where he is.” I get to my feet. “I’ll go and get him.”
“Where is he?” Matt asks.
“I’ll go and get him. Don’t worry.”
“You have to tell us something,” Pete says.
“I’ll bring him home. You can go there and wait.” And I leave them all and hail a cab. I know exactly where he is.
Paul
The projector is harder to work than I remember it being. But after a few busted knuckles and even more curse words, I finally get it started up. The theater is completely dark, except for the screen, and it casts a small glow on the room. This particular movie theater is small, and it has old wooden chairs with barely any cushion on them. But this is the only place that my dad and I ever went to be alone.
We would sneak in here in the middle of the night when the other boys were in bed, and we would watch old films together. Sometimes, we would pop popcorn and bring it from home, and we would sit all night and watch film after film. I go and sit down in one of the seats in the middle.
I don’t think anyone has been here in a really long time, if the amount of dust on the seats is any indication. I don’t care. I sit down anyway and watch the screen flicker. There’s no sound because I couldn’t figure out how to turn that on. But I can watch the movie and remember. My dad wasn’t always bad. He was forgetful and he was never serious enough, but my mother was the opposite so they complemented each other really well. Where he didn’t care, she cared too much, and vice versa. After my mom died, though, there was no one to balance him out, which made him seem like a deadbeat. He wasn’t though, looking back on it. He was lonely. He was alone.