She drove toward Bryan’s house at eighty miles an hour. He had to know about this. He was old enough at the time to realize what was going on. He signed those documents so willingly because he knew their mother wasn’t there. He wanted Gennie to find out the hard way.
He was sitting on a dilapidated lawn chair drinking a beer when Gennie pulled up.
“Wow,” he said, “long time no see.”
Gennie took the clipboard she was holding and smashed it across his face as hard as she could.
Bryan just sat there, looking stunned. He touched his cheek and examined the blood from the gash made by the board’s metal clip.
“Still feisty as ever, huh?” he said, not sounding perturbed at all.
“Where the hell is my mother!”
Bryan shrugged his shoulders as if it was no big deal and then took a swig of beer. “Beats me.”
“Don’t lie. You know where she is. You signed those papers without telling me on purpose. You wanted me to dig up the whole friggin’ cemetery looking for her.”
“Uh, yes and no. Seeing you all worked up about a pile of bones is kind of fun, but even if I did tell you, you wouldn’t have believed me anyways.”
“I want to know where my mother is. If I don’t get an answer from you within thirty seconds, I’m going to pound this clipboard over your head until you die.”
“Hey! Hold it right there!” Bryan said, a bit of beer dribbling down his face into his beard. “I’ll tell you. It’s not what you want to hear, but you insisted. Honestly, you shouldn’t be poking your nose in shit where it doesn’t belong, but…”
“Tell me right now,” Gennie said, raising the clipboard again.
“Okay!” Bryan said, putting his hands out in front of him. “There’s a letter in the house that’ll tell you everything. Dad didn’t want us to know about it, but I found it while looking for money in their bedroom. I was about fifteen at the time. I told Dad about it and he was pissed. He told me never to tell you guys about it ever.”
“Get me that letter,” Gennie said.
“Fine,” Bryan said, standing up. “You can have it. I should have thrown it out a long time ago.”
Bryan went inside the house and about ten minutes later emerged with a crumpled, yellowed envelope in his hand.
He handed it to Gennie. “I know you think she’s some kind of angel, but I’m telling you, I know her and she’s isn’t.”
Gennie thought it was weird that he was talking about their mother like she still alive, but she blamed his intoxication for that. She took the letter and left without saying goodbye.
Gennie pulled off on the side of Route 3 about halfway to her motel. The envelope was postmarked from San Francisco, of all places. Gennie pulled out the letter and read it.
What They Left Behind Page 73
