Mack’s eyes filled.
“I know.”
She pulled back.
“Walter came to see me every Christmas.”
Mack stared.
“What?”
“Every Christmas.”
“For thirty years.”
“He told me he would fix it.”
Mack lowered his eyes.
“Sounds like him.”
She touched his arm.
“He never told me about the evidence.”
“Why?”
“He said if he promised me proof and failed, he’d hurt me twice.”
Mack looked toward the courthouse steps.
Walter had carried everyone.
Too many people.
That night Mack returned to the diner where Eli had first found him.
Same booth.
Same coffee.
The three bikers joined him.
Eli and his mother came later.
They ordered cheeseburgers.
No onions.
Danny’s sister came too.
They placed an empty chair at the end of the table.
Nobody explained why.
Nobody needed to.
10
Learning that Eli was his grandson turned out to be easier than learning how to become his grandfather.
Mack initially tried too hard.
The first week, he bought Eli a new bicycle.
His mother made him return it.
“He has a bicycle.”
“It’s too small.”
“It fits.”
“It’s junk.”
“It was his father’s.”
Mack stopped.
“Oh.”
She softened.
“The point isn’t that you can’t buy things.”
“The point is you don’t get to compensate for nine years you didn’t know existed by flooding him with stuff.”
“I wasn’t compensating.”
“You bought a bicycle, baseball glove, fishing rod, two jackets, and a remote-control truck in five days.”
Mack frowned.
“The truck was on sale.”
She stared.
He returned three items.
Kept the fishing rod after Eli begged.
The second week, Mack called every day.
Eli’s mother eventually said:
“You don’t have to check whether he ate breakfast.”
“What if he didn’t?”
“He did.”
“What?”
“Cereal.”
Mack grimaced.
“That isn’t breakfast.”
“It literally is.”
“Eggs are breakfast.”
“You raised Aaron on gas-station donuts.”
Mack stopped.
“How do you know?”
“Walter.”
Mack muttered something about dead men gossiping.
The third week, Mack showed up unannounced at Eli’s school to watch a baseball practice.
Eli was terrible.
Truly terrible.
He swung late.
Dropped two catches.
Ran toward the wrong base once.
Mack cheered like the boy had been drafted professionally.
Eli’s mother covered her face.
After practice, Eli climbed into Mack’s truck.
“Did Dad play?”
Mack smiled.
“Yeah.”
“Was he good?”
Mack thought.
“No.”
Eli laughed.
“Really?”
“Awful.”
“What did he play?”
“Mostly bench.”
Eli laughed harder.
Mack looked at him.
Every fact he gave the boy about Aaron felt like returning something stolen.
His favorite cereal.