Chapter 50
“George came to see me.”
Marjorie was sitting up in bed. She was able to shower now and she had done combed in hair the way that she liked it and she was wearing her own pajamas.
“That took long enough,” said Ron.
“He wants to come back home. He said that he misses being there and that he’s given up the woman.”
“What happened? She get sick?”
Marjorie’s face looked shocked. “How did you know?”
Ron felt his fists tighten. “You’ve got to be kidding. I was just being sarcastic.”
“Ronald what am I supposed to do? It’s his home and his money. He works very hard.”
Looking at his mother tenderly, Ron saw that she was trying to make the very best of things. She was stuck and feeling more vulnerable that perhaps she had ever felt in her life. Harry was good for a visit or two but he had made his own life and this was Marjorie’s life. “Whatever you want to do, Mom. I’ll be as supportive as I can be.”
Marjorie looked at her son and Ron realized that something that he did not like was coming. She had that look. He had seen it before and he recognized it. “He wants you to apologize to him.”
“For what?”
“I don’t know,” she said shaking her head. “I guess the two of you argued after I got sick.”
Ron was literally speechless. He didn’t want to upset her. He wanted her to get well. He didn’t want to live with her. That was a trap from which he would never be able to escape. “OK, let me think about it,” was all that he finally could manage.
When he got home, he felt dejected and exhausted. He had wanted to ask his mother if George had apologized to her. He had wanted to flat refuse to do anything but kick George in the balls the next time that he saw him. None of that would have been productive. Dr. Gutberg had explained that stress was one of Marjorie’s biggest dangers and Ron was determined not to up the stress level. Maybe he would take the approach that George took. He would do nothing and buy time. It was going to be at least two weeks until his mother came back home. He at least had that long to figure out what to do. Inwardly, Ron shrugged to himself. Maybe he should just say he was sorry. They would both know that he didn’t mean it. What difference would it make? Why did he so rebel at the thought of it?
The phone rang. Charlie Rothstein’s voice was gravelly.
“Ronnie, Charlie Rothstein. What’s the soonest that you can get up to my office tomorrow?”
“What’s wrong Charlie?”
“The Devin family is dead. Seems the father came home, shot the mother, shot the kid and then shot himself.”
“Holy Shit!”
“You were there yesterday, right?”
“Yeah late afternoon, let me check.” Ron opened his book bag turned to his log sheet. “In the afternoon from 3:30 to a little after 5pm.”
“That was lucky,” said Rothstein. “You missed the old man by less than an hour. Anyway, the cops want to talk to you. Looks like you were the last person to see them alive.”
“Fuck!” said Ron.
“It’s even more fucked up than that. I’ll tell you more tomorrow. The Superintendent wants to meet with you and me and Quimpy before you go to see the cops.”
Ron felt an instant of panic. “Ok.”
“You aren’t in any trouble. Don’t be worried. The Sup just wants to have an idea of the big picture before you talk to the cops. Any way that you could make it a little earlier?”
“I’ll do my best,” said Ron.
“Well we’ll be waiting on you so the sooner that you can get here the better. Good night kid.”