What I did.
He gave a shrug, feeling unworthy of all the praise, of Amelia’s praise, most of all. He sat listening as the call ended. The silence returned, interrupted only by the soft beep of the message reminder.
‘You can open it now. If you want,’ said Amelia.
He looked down at the gift. Though the wrapping was plain brown paper, he took great effort not to tear it, because it seemed uncouth to go ripping it open in front of her. Gingerly he peeled off the tape and folded back the wrapping.
The pocket knife was neither large nor impressive. He saw scratches on the handle, and realized it was not even new. She’d given him a used knife.
‘Wow,’ he managed to say with some measure of enthusiasm. ‘This is a nice one.’
‘It belonged to my dad.’ She added, quietly: ‘My real dad.’
He looked up as the implication of those words sank in.
‘Jack is my stepfather.’ She uttered that last word as though it were an object of disgust.
‘Then J.D. and Eddie…’
‘They’re not my real brothers. They’re Jack’s boys.’
‘I guess I wondered about it. They don’t look like you.’
‘Thank god.’
Noah laughed. ‘Yeah, that’s not a family resemblance I’d want to have, either.’
‘I’m not even allowed to talk about my real dad, because it makes Jack mad. He hates to be reminded there was someone else before him. But I want people to know. I want them to know Jack has nothing to do with who I am.’
Gently he placed the knife back in her hand. ‘I can’t take this, Amelia.’
‘I want you to.’
‘But it’s got to mean a lot to you, if it belonged to him.’
‘That’s why I want you to have it.’ She touched the bandage on her temple, as though pointing to the evidence of her debt to him. ‘You were the only one who did anything. The only one who didn’t run.’
He didn’t confess the humiliating truth: I wanted to run, but I was so terrified I couldn’t move my legs.
She looked up at the kitchen clock. With a start of panic, she abruptly stood up. ‘I didn’t know it was so late.’
He followed her to the front door. Amelia had just stepped out when headlights suddenly cut through the trees. She spun around to face them, and then seemed to freeze as the pickup truck roared up the driveway.
The door swung open and Jack Reid stepped out, whippet thin and scowling. ‘Get in the truck, Amelia,’ he said.
‘Jack, how did you –’
‘Eddie told me you’d be here.’
‘I was just about to walk home.’
‘Get in the truck now.’
Instantly she clammed up and obediently slid into the passenger seat.
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