Page 29 of The Banned Books Club

His father walked around the counter and into the kitchen, opened the fridge and pulled out two beers, one of which he offered to Cormac.

Cormac shook his head. He wasn’t in the mood to relax with his old man and have a cold one. He was irritated by the way Evan lived his life, and he was no longer sure he could blame Gia for it. The cognitive dissonance he was beginning to experience was bringing a whole new kind of discomfort; he just wanted to be put out of his misery. And he hoped his father could make that happen by convincing him that what he was beginning to suspect wasn’t the actual way of things.

“Did you talk to her?” Evan asked.

“I did. I had to act as referee so the situation wouldn’t get out of control. Louisa was freaking out.”

Cormac heard the release of the pressure in the can when his father popped the top. “So...how’d it end?”

“You were right—Gia won’t back off on what she said.”

He raised his eyebrows before taking a big gulp of his beer. When he didn’t reply, Cormac looked around at the kitchen. There was food stuck to plates sitting between and on the various stacks of books, trash overflowing the wastebasket, milk that’d been left out to spoil... “Have you had anything to eat today?”

“Had a sandwich earlier.”

“You’ve got to clean this place up. It’s not healthy in here. It’s been seventeen years since Gia accused you of molesting her. It’s time to put that behind you whether it happened or not.”

His father’s head jerked up. “Whether it happened or not?”

Cormac had just inadvertently revealed his doubt, but he’d been planning to steer the conversation in that direction, anyway. “That’s right. Why would she say it if it isn’t true?”

“We’ve been over this! She wanted me to raise her grade!”

“She claims you invited her to the house to talk about her grade. And that’s when it happened.”

Suddenly, his father crushed the can even though it was still full, causing beer to run out onto his hand as well as the floor. “Are you kidding me?” he yelled, throwing it against the wall. “I’m getting this from you now, too?Youof all people, Cormac?”

Cormac stared at the beer running down the wall and the can that’d landed on the floor. Evan didn’t raise his voice that often. Cormac had obviously touched a nerve. He’d always been so careful not to look too closely for fear he might lose something even greater than he’d lost so far. But the need to know the truth was growing and so was the desire he felt for that incident to be resolved in his mind at last. “She’s always been beautiful,” he said, keeping his voice low but insistent. “Appealing. Engaging.Sexyas hell. I remember her clearly and can see why you might’ve found her attractive. She was almost an adult. It wasn’t as if she was a little girl. You were a popular teacher. Maybe you thought her feelings mirrored your own or...or you thought she was coming on to you? Just tell me the truth, Dad! Did you do it? Because I don’t want to continue to defend you if you’re the guilty party. It’s not right. It’s not fair. Especially to someone who’s been victimized.”

“I didn’t do it!” he yelled. “How many times do I have to say it?I didn’t do it!”

Cormac closed his eyes against the echo of his father’s voice. He’d been hoping for some clarity. But he didn’t know any more now than when he’d driven over here, intent onfinallypressing Evan. He couldn’t say if he’d everknow.

Evan was adamant.

But so was Gia.

9

Ever since he’d seen Gia by the pool on Thursday night, Cormac had been inexorably drawn to the windows of his house that overlooked the Rossi yard. She hadn’t appeared on Friday night; he’d assumed that maybe she was out with friends. But she’d sat by the pool for over an hour on Saturday and walked out again on Sunday just before Cormac was about to go to bed, which held him transfixed at the window in his room, despite the fact that he had to be up early to take Mrs. Wood and Astro to the park.

This morning he’d pulled out the transcript of his father’s trial he’d originally gotten online and stored in a box in his closet. He’d been poring over it on and off as he went through his day. Not only did he want to know whether she was lying, he was interested in how she might’ve gotten beyond the incident if she’d been telling the truth. The pushback and skepticism—from him and others—couldn’t have been easy to endure.

He’d never forget seeing her sitting in the witness box, pale but resolute, in a pretty pink dress that made her look young and sweet. She must’ve been instructed to wear something like that, because he’d never seen her in anything like it before. She’d probably been coached on how to answer, too, as the district attorney led her through a recounting of the events in question. Although Cormac had read it once today already, he took the transcript off his nightstand, where he’d left it last, and sat on the bed to go over the part again where the district attorney, a man named Brindley, had Gia on the stand.

To get through the trial as quickly as possible and put it behind him, his father had elected to forgo a jury. The defense attorney they’d hired had suggested a bench trial might be the smarter route, because it would preclude the prosecution from being able to stack the jury with mothers who’d likely be more susceptible to the emotional pain Gia would, no doubt, claim she suffered.

So the jury box had sat empty but the gallery was full.

MR. BRINDLEY:How were you doing in school generally?

GIA ROSSI:Not the best. I was too caught up in socializing.

MR. BRINDLEY:But you loved English. You usually did well in that subject. Am I right?

At that point, the defense attorney had jumped to his feet.

MR. JACOBS:Objection, Your Honor! Leading statement.

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