Page 58 of Second Chance

“Morning,” comes from somewhere in the depths of the garage, probably where Pa is doing inventory. He’s not under a car, which is progress. “How you doing, kiddo?”

“Fine.” Tony’s knees still ache, same as his hips. Sore enough that it’ll make sitting down a little uncomfortable, he’s not getting fucked again anytime in the next couple of days. None of these are things he especially wants to share with his father.

Pa ambles out from the storage closet in the back where they keep spare lights and wipers.

“Inventory?” Tony asks.

“Mm. Need to put in an order today or tomorrow. We’re low on headlights.”

Tony shakes his head. “The fucking kid from Lobell the other day with his deer story.”

“That was one light. Carl brought us in another two last week, remember?”

“I guess.” Tony can’t blame Gianna’s friends for absolutely everything stressful in his life. He wants to because he’s angryat her, but he’s self-aware enough to realize it’s not a productive emotion.

“You sure you’re okay?” Pa leans against one of the pillars, studying Tony too closely.

Tony looks away as he pulls a coverall out of the closet. “Uh-huh.” He hides a wince as his hips protest the movement of getting into the coverall.

He’s almost convinced himself this conversation is done when Pa continues.

“You seemed a little upset at dinner the other night.”

The other night, Tony reminds himself. Before the weekend. After he broke down in his stupid car because his stupid feelings are all over the place. Before he yelled at his sister because he still hasn’t worked through a goddamn bit of it.

“Is…Daniel all right?”

Tony freezes. Pa never asks about Daniel by name. He talks around it, mentions Tony staying over in Rhinebeck obliquely, or says “your professor friend.”

“Yeah.” Tony’s voice is rough, which is weird. “I mean, sort of. The professor—the stabbing…”

“Scary stuff.”

“Yeah.” Tony forces himself to meet Pa’s eye. “And he has a whole bunch of stuff to take care of now he’s the dean. He’s been pretty stressed.”

“Right.” Pa doesn’t say anything else, but the way he keeps looking at Tony is enough to make Tony crack. He always gets that expression when he knows something is up.

The first time Tony drank a shitty, lukewarm PBR at a bonfire in the woods when he was fifteen, it took Pa all of three minutes. Waiting up in the living room with the manualto the latest Buick model and his reading glasses, he gave Tony that look, no disappointment, only endless patience. Tony folded instantly and told him all about the whole night, and Pa didn’t get mad about the drinking. He just asked questions about fire safety, clapped Tony on the shoulder, and told him to be careful.

“It…kind of brought up some memories,” Tony admits. “For both of us. About last year, and…”

“Mario.” Pa says his name so blandly it’s immediately obvious he’s suppressing large amounts of rage.

Tony surprises himself by shaking his head. “I mean, I guess a little. But mostly…Stacy Allan. That day in the forest, she…she had both of us at gunpoint.”

To Pa’s credit, he doesn’t flinch. “Christ, kid, you never said. I mean, I knew Daniel was shot, but…”

“Didn’t want to freak you and Ma out. There was enough going on. I thought… For about an hour, I was sure I was going to die, and now…”

“Now you’re thinking about it again.”

“Yeah.”

Pa rests his hand heavily on Tony’s shoulder for a minute while Tony sorts through the inventory folder and fires up the computer in the office to make the orders. If he said one more word, asked one more question, Tony would spill everything—the note on Daniel’s door, the murder weapon, Lily Peterson and her boyfriend. But Pa’s never been one for too many words, and Tony keeps Daniel’s secrets and tells himself it’s better that way.

Gianna comes in at one for her half day, no baby in sight. The first thing she does is tell Pa he needs to go out to Kyle’s because his motorboat won’t start, and he needs a second pair of hands.

Tony retreats into the bowels of the garage. He’s hit his limit on emotional conversations for the day. Even if he could fathom talking out their fight from last night, he has no idea how to tell Gianna what he’s thinking, how he’s feeling.

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