Between a Grizzly and Her Cub: Part Three

Chad steered his Prius towards his brother’s house. He watched families in their front yards. He recalled his eleventh birthday, when he, his brother, and their mother still lived in Detroit, far from Fort Myers, Florida.

He makes a snowman in his front yard while he watches the rusty station wagon turn onto his street. Its one headlight winks at him through the confetti curtains of snow.

The station wagon turns onto Chad’s driveway, and Chad freezes when he spots the driver.

“Dad!” Months passed since he last saw his father.

Dad kills his engine and steps out of his car. “Is you mother home?”

Chad shakes his head. “She’s picking David up from school.”

Dad seems pleased by this. “It’s somebody’s birthday today, isn’t it? I can’t seem to remember whose, though. Any clue?”

Chad bubbles with laughter. Mom had promised him that Dad would forget, wouldn’t show up.

“Did Grandma and Grandpa send you anything?”

Chad nods. Mom’s parents sent him a card with a twenty-dollar bill. He proudly exhibits the money.

Dad’s eyes linger a bit too long on the bill, but Chad won’t realize that until tomorrow morning.

“Great, sport. Just great. I have a big surprise for you, birthday boy. I’m taking you to a football game. The Lions are playing.”

Chad’s eyes grow huge. He holds little interest in sports, but he would happily spend a day at the DMV if his father would accompany him.

Dad places his hands on his knees and leans towards his son. “Great! Let’s go—uh no! I just realized something.”

Chad’s smile deflates. “What’s wrong, Dad?”

“I need to fill the car with gas.” He pats down his long coat, frowns. “I left my wallet at my apartment.” He rips off his hat, scratches his head. “We can’t go without fuel.”

Chad’s stomach drops.

Then, he realizes he can save the day. “Dad! I have money.” He against displays the twenty-dollar bill.

Dad’s eyes ignite. “Of course!” His hand rustles his son’s hair. “Why didn’t I think of that? You wait here. I’ll fuel the car and return for you.”

Chad waves goodbye to his father, who climbs into the station wagon, twenty-dollar bill in hand, and drives away.

Chad watches the station wagon get smaller and smaller, until he never sees it again.

Chad pulled into his brother’s driveway. David’s wife stepped through her screen door. Their eyes locked. Chad killed his engine, took a deep breath, and stepped out of his Prius.

He approached her. David’s wife, Melissa, looked pale, undernourished. Chad wondered how advanced her cancer had become. He couldn't help but recall how his mother looked while her cancer devoured her all those years ago.

Melissa’s lower lip quivered. She threw herself forward. Chad caught and hugged her while she sobbed against his chest, dampened it with tears. He squeezed her, felt her shoulders convulse.

“Why?” she screamed. “Why would David do this?”

Chad had no answers. Not yet.

He wanted to tell her that he didn’t believe it, that David would never commit suicide, but her stress levels wouldn't improve if he suggested that someone broke into her house and murdered her husband.

“Where’s Matthew?” Chad asked.

Melissa hiccupped. “He’s at a friend’s house. I haven’t even told him, yet.”

Chad’s eyelids slid shut, too heavy to hold. He couldn’t imagine how this news would affect David’s ten-year-old son.

Melissa’s head shook back and forth, burrowed into his shoulder. “I don’t care what the Fort Myers PD says. Someone murdered David. I know it.”

Chad bit his lip. “Do you have . . . any evidence?”

She released him, stepped back, and wiped her eyes. “David’s checking account. There’s something wrong with his statement this month. The police won’t listen to me, but . . .”

Chad squeezed her shoulder. “Show me.”

To be continued . . .