Chapter 13

Lizzie called me the next day and we agreed to meet for dinner.

“Did your father really say that?” I asked Lizzie as we slid into a booth at the restaurant. “That you weren’t permitted to contact J.J.?”

“That’s right,” Lizzie replied. “You’d think, after losing Wendy, he might want to reconcile with the son he also lost. Like a second chance. It boggles my mind that he doesn’t see it that way.”

“From what I recall,” I said, “he was always pretty hard on J.J.”

The waitress arrived, placed two plastic-covered menus in front of us and poured us some water. She took our drink orders and left us alone for a few minutes.

“What did your mom say?” I asked.

“Mom was happy to hear J.J. was all right and that he had found someone.”

“What are you going to do?” I asked Lizzie. “Will you still try and get in touch with your brother?”

“Of course,” she replied, “and I told my father that. I think he was shocked because it was the first time I ever talked back to him. Then he threatened me with the old cliché: ‘Not while you’re living under my roof.’ I’m not sure how serious he was about that.”

She continued to read over the menu.

“Are you worried?” I asked.

“Strangely, no,” she replied. “Though I probably should be because he’s been paying my tuition and letting me live at home rent free for the past couple of years. At the same time, I’m twenty-five years old. Maybe I should just move out and get my own bank loan. Then at least I wouldn’t feel like I was wearing a yoke around my neck.”