"Yeah, and why didn't you call us, Nat?" her father asked, his tone changing. "You get arrested and you don't call? I have to depend on the off-chance that one of my golf buddies sees you?"
"I didn't get arrested." Nat's head started to ache, but her father was just warming up. He'd never yelled at her before, but his temper had flared at her brothers. Now that he knew she was alive, he felt free to kill her.
"Why did you go back to Chester County?" he asked, raising his voice. "Hank told us somebody threatened you if you went out there again."
"It wasn't a threat." Nat felt annoyed at Hank, in absentia. "And he shouldn't have discussed it with you."
"Why not? He's family. He was worried about you and he turned out to be right." Her father frowned. "What's gotten into you, Nat? Is it that teacher, the cuckoo clock with the ponytail?"
Angus. "Is there anything Hank didn't tell you, Dad?"
"This is just terrible." Her mother sighed, rubbing her forehead with her fingertips. "First Paul, and now this."
Nat asked, "Where's Hank, anyway?"
"He and Paul should be here any minute," her mother answered-"The Sixers went into overtime, so they were late leaving."
"Another high for A.I." Junior shook his head in admiration.
"He's so money" Tom said. "I can't believe we missed another overtime game. Paul's a ticket pig. Pneumonia, my ass."
Brooke kept his own counsel, as Nat's father put his hands on his hips. "So what is it, Nat? Is it this guy? Is something going on with you two?"
Natalie, listen. "Dad, that's none of your business."
"It certainly is my business, if he's getting you into trouble with the police. How do you think that looks?" Her father pointed a stiff finger at her. "You know, sometimes you're book smart, but that's about it."
Ouch. "You know what, I need a shower." Nat turned abruptly and went up the stairs, then stopped midway. Something was missing. She looked down at the elegant entrance hall. "Where's the cat?"
Her mother pursed her lips. Her father looked up and said tightly, "It happened the other day."
Jelly. Nat felt a knot in her chest. "What happened?"
"He didn't wake up, is all I can tell you. I found him on your bed." Her father's frown relaxed, his anger mitigated slightly. "The vet said he'll give us his ashes."
"He was old," Junior said matter-of-factly.
"You gonna cry?" Tom chuckled. "If you really loved him, you'd cry."
Nat turned numbly away, climbed the rest of the stairway, and went to her bedroom, where she stripped off the sweatsuit and headed straight for the shower, vowing to keep it together. When she'd finished, she wrapped herself in a soft white bath towel and padded dripping into her room. She ran a finger over the comforter on Jelly's corner of the bed, and long gray cat hairs stuck to her fingertips.
She felt that knot again and scanned her bedroom with new eyes. She hadn't lived at home in over a decade and had slept here only a few nights. Her parents had carted her old furniture here, so the bedroom looked oddly stop-time, circa high-school French Club. An undersize white dresser stood against the wall, across from a double bed with a matching little-girl headboard and a desk she'd never studied at, complete with a white chair and a blue tufted cushion. A set of white bookshelves held books from middle school onward. She had outgrown all of it a long time ago, at least in theory.
Nat realized that she hadn't picked out anything in this bedroom, much as she hadn't picked Jelly. Or her lawyer. Or even her boyfriend. All of it had been selected by her father, and she'd gone along to get along. She wondered for the first time if even her choice of profession had been a reaction to him. It had been a forgone conclusion that she wouldn't work for the family business. Either way, she'd been living a life defined by someone else.
And suddenly, she didn't want it to stay that way.
Chapter 28
Nat came downstairs with the borrowed sweatsuit in hand, dressed in a worn Fair Isle sweater, a pair of old jeans, and ancient blue Danskos. She went into the kitchen, where her father, mother, and Brooke sat talking at the cherry table behind flowery mugs of coffee. Junior, Tom, and now Paul and Hank clustered around the wireless TV on the counter, sipping Heinekens and watching ESPN on low volume.
"Honey, are you okay?" Hank set his bottle down, crossed the room, and gave Nat a big hug, smelling of cigars.
"I'm fine." Nat held her emotions in check. The boys kept watching TV, while her parents and Brooke fell abruptly silent, evidently eavesdropping.
"I'm sorry I didn't take your call." Hank released the embrace, and his dark eyes searched hers. "I'm sorry about everything."
Paul half turned. "HANK, TELL HER ABOUT A.I."
Nat looked up at Hank. "Tell me we're not going to talk about basketball."
"We're not. You've been through hell tonight."
"A.I. WENT INTO THE CROWD AFTER A BALL, AND HE'S SO TALL THAT HANK TOUCHED HIS HEAD. HIS ACTUAL HEAD."
Her mother asked, "I thought A.I. was short. Isn't he short?"
"ALLEN IVERSON IS SHORT, MA. HE'S A.I. ONE. I MEANT A.I. TWO. ANDRE IGUODALA. HE'S SIX SIX!"
"Nat, so tell us." Her father sounded calmer, and he looked at her without anger. "Brooke explained the legal side, but I want to know from you what's going on."
"Dad, if I go into it, we'll argue, and it's late." Nat walked over to Brooke, gave him the folded sweatsuit, and extended her hand. "Thanks for helping me tonight. I do appreciate it, but I'll be interviewing other lawyers before I make my decision."
"Hold the phone." Brooke raised an index finger. "Your dad and I solved the problem. I'm referring you to a lawyer with plenty of state-level experience."
"Thanks, but no," Nat said, and her father looked as if he'd been slapped.
"What are you talking about? Of course you'll take Carter's referral. It's all settled."
"No thanks." Nat shook her head. "I've made the decision, and it's final."
"Nat, don't be crazy." Her father stood up, his frown returning. "Sit down and tell us what's going on. I want to know why you were in Chester County tonight and what happened."
"Dad, I'm tired and I don't want to talk about it now. Please try to understand."
"Sit down and talk to your parents!" her father said, and Nat turned to Hank.
"Let's go home. I'm beat."
Her mother said, "Nat?"
Her father said, "Nat!" He folded his arms in his thick robe. "At least take Carter's referral. I'll pay for it. You'll have the best lawyer in the city and it won't cost you a dime."
"No, thanks."
"Hank, talk to her. You're staying over, aren't you?"
Hank looked from Nat to her father and back again. "Your parents invited us to sleep here tonight. It might make sense, given the storm."
"No, thanks." Nat imagined her epitaph would read, "No, Thanks."
"It's raining too hard to drive into the city, dear," her mother called from the table.
"We'll be fine. I'm tired and I want to go home." Nat looked at Hank. "Please. Let's go."
"Nat, what's gotten into you?" her father said, raising his voice, and her brothers turned from the TV.
Junior said, "Stay if they want you to stay. You're being stupid."
Tom said, "It's the Nutty Professor."
"LET'S ORDER PIZZA! PLAY CARDS, CHEER EVERYBODY UP!"
"Paul, you need some sleep," her mother said, but he ignored her. "That cold will never go away if you don't get some rest. I fixed up your bed upstairs."
Enough. "'Bye, everybody."
"I said I want you to stay," her father repeated, scowling.
"Sorry, gotta go. See you guys. I'll call you tomorrow and explain everything. We're all too tired to talk tonight."
"You're really going?" her father demanded.
"You're not gonna cry?" Tom asked, in mock disbelief.
"DIDN'T YOU LOVE JELLY?" Paul laughed, but Nat wasn't even tempted to give them the finger.
Maybe I really am growing up.