Page 125 - My FlipBook

T R A I L O F C R U M B S

at his bad timing. The tiny window of humanity Greta had
seen opening in Alice banged shut.
“Hey,” Ash said.
Alice practically sneered.
“I’ll be in soon,” Greta hinted, nudging him toward the
door. “We’re just…talking.”
“Why are you so hard on your dad?” Ash asked.
Alice looked like she wanted to karate chop him with

some scorching retort, but then sighed and dropped the ciga-
rette butt on the porch, grinding it under her heel. “You’ve
got to understand that after my mom died, my dad turned
into this weird, pantless recluse you see now. Think anyone
ever drops by for a barbecue or invites us over on Christmas?”
“I thought the lack of pants was heat related,” Greta said.
“Yes,” Alice answered. “And when summer rolls around,

it will also be ‘heat related.’
“I was sweating like a whore in church when he actually
agreed to come to my high school graduation, like I’d turn
around and find him talking to the plants or reciting haikus
about death at the punch bowl.”
Greta could picture Alice, in a too-puffy dress, gripping
his arm. Don’t talk to anyone. Greta nodded. Elgin was a little
startling.
Ash kicked a clump of snow off the porch, pocking a flaw-

less drift on the lawn. After a minute he said, “But he’s here,
giving you checks every month to support you. Making you
lamb kebabs because they’re your favorite. He’s still lapping
our dad.”

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