I run and open the gate, then I run and open the passenger door to my father's truck. He places Wolfgang in the passenger seat. Wolfgang doesn't even seem to care that he's been moved. "You think he'll be okay?"
"I don't know," my Dad says. "I'll let you know what they say." He walks around to the driver's side and climbs in. He begins to back out, but he stops the truck and calls me over to his window. "I forgot to give this to you the other night when you asked for it," he says, handing me a sack. I take it from him and watch as he continues backing out of the driveway.
Once he's gone, I look down and open the sack. Inside is a trophy. I had forgotten all about asking him for one. I pull out the trophy and it's a statue of a tennis player.
"What'd you win this time?" Sagan asks.
I read the small plaque on the bottom of the trophy. "'State Tennis champs, 2005.' "
He laughs. "You were a little child prodigy." He walks to his car and opens the door. "You need a ride to school today?"
I narrow my eyes at him. He knows I haven't been going to school lately. "Nice try."
He climbs in the car. "Worth a shot," he says, closing the door. He rolls down the window and says, "I'll text you if I get any updates about Wolfgang from your dad."
I nod, but then I tilt my head. "Why would he give you updates?"
"Because . . . I work for him?"
"You do?" Wow. I'm so out of the loop.
He laughs. "Did you really not know that?"
I shake my head. "I knew you had a job, but I've just never asked what it was."
"Your dad gave me a job and let me move in the first day I met him. That's why I like him so much, even though you can't stand him most of the time."
He looks over his shoulder and backs out of the driveway. Before he pulls onto the road, he gives me a small wave. I wave back and watch him drive off.
I don't know how long I stand in the driveway, watching the empty road. I just feel so . . . lost? I don't know. Nothing really makes sense this week.
I go back inside and spend the next several hours wasting time.
I mostly watch TV, but I can't stop checking my phone for updates. I still haven't heard from my father. I've only received one text and it was from my mother, asking if I'd come to the basement sometime this afternoon. I responded to her and told her I was busy. She replied with, "Okay. Maybe tomorrow."
I know I said I was never going to the basement again, but I only said that because I was angry. I'll visit her eventually, but right now I'm still upset with her. And my father. Still confused by how Victoria can choose to remain in such a strange marital environment.
And I still don't know what the hell the placebo pills are for.
I hate that I have any sort of resentment in me after hearing what Sagan's going through. But for some reason, his issues haven't negated mine at all and I hate that. I hate that I'm still emotionally affected by the poor choices of my parents when I should be lucky that I know they're alive. It makes me feel weak. And petty.
I kick my feet up on the kitchen table and text my father.
Me: Any word from the vet?
I wait to see if the text bubbles appear, but they don't. I set the phone down and pull my crossword puzzle in front of me. My phone rings, so I flip it over to check the caller ID. I smile when I see it's Sagan.
"Hello?"
"Hey." His voice is heavy, like he had to drag the word out.
"What's wrong?"
He sighs into the phone. "Your father wanted me to call you. He uh . . . Wolfgang . . . he died on the way to the vet."
I almost drop my phone. "What? How?"
"I don't know. I'm sure it was just old age."
I sigh and wipe away a surprising tear.
"You okay?"
"Yeah," I say, sighing again. "I just . . . is my dad okay?"
"I'm sure he is. He did mention we might go bury him later, though. Probably at Pastor Brian's church, so I'll be later than usual. I'll text you."
"Okay. Thanks for letting me know."
"See you tonight."
I end the call and stare at my phone for a full five minutes before I move. I'm surprised I'm sad. Other than living in the yard adjacent to the dog as a kid, I've really only interacted with him for a few days. But the last week of that poor dog's life was complete crap. His owner died and then he walked several miles in the rain in the middle of the night only to end up getting sick and dying in the midst of complete strangers. I'm glad they're going to bury him on Pastor Brian's property, though. I'm sure they'd both prefer it that way.
I don't hear from Sagan or my father for several hours. The mood in the house is awkward at best, so I stay in my room most of the evening. Victoria doesn't even cook, so we all eat separately.
I'm cleaning up the mess from my frozen dinner when Utah's phone rings. He's on the couch with Luck and Honor watching TV, but his phone is next to me on the bar.
"Who is it?" he asks from the living room.
I glance at the caller ID, but it's not a number he has saved. "I don't know. It's a local number, but there's no name."
"Will you answer it?"
I dry my hands on a towel and reach for his phone.
"Hello?"
"Honor?"
"No, it's Merit."
"Merit," my father says. "Where's Utah?"
"He's in the living room. What's up?"
He sighs. "Well . . . we need someone to pick us up."
I laugh. Is this some kind of joke? "You own like eighty cars. Why in the world do you need a ride?"
"We're uh . . . in jail."
I pull the phone away from my ear and put it on speaker. I motion for Utah to mute the TV. "What do you mean you're in jail? And who is we? Is Sagan in jail, too?"
"It's a long story. I'll tell you when you get here."
"Who's in jail?" Utah asks, walking into the kitchen. I motion for him to be quiet so I can hear my father.
"Do we need like . . . bail money? I've never picked anyone up from jail before."
"No, we just need a ride. We've been here two hours already waiting for them to let us make a phone call."
"Okay. We're on our way." I end the call.
"Why are they in jail?" Utah says.
I shrug. "I don't know. Should we tell Victoria?"
"Tell me what?" Victoria walks into the kitchen with impeccable timing.
"Dad's in jail," Utah says, turning to face her. "With Sagan."
She pauses. "What?"
"Don't know what he did, but I can't wait to find out," Utah says. Honor and Luck are now in the kitchen. We're all looking at each other like we don't know what to do. I guess we don't. It's not every day we have to go pick our father up from jail.
"Have him call me as soon as you pick him up," Victoria says. "I have to stay with Moby."
I nod and head to my room to find my shoes. What in the world did they do?
Chapter Fifteen
I don't know what I was expecting, but when my father and Sagan walk out of the doors of the jail, they look normal. We've been waiting in the parking lot for over an hour for them to process their paperwork. All they would tell us was that they were arrested for desecration. I don't even know what that means.
My first inclination is to rush up to Sagan and hug him, but I don't. Especially in front of anyone else. Instead, I wait until he reaches the car and I discreetly squeeze his hand.
"What'd you guys do?" Utah asks.
My father swings open the passenger door of the van. "We were trying to bury a damn dog, that's what we were doing." He sits down and slams his door shut. We all look at Sagan and he's got an exasperated expression on his face.
"I tried to tell him it was a bad idea," he says.
"Burying the dog?" Luck asks.
Sagan shakes his head. "I thought we were burying him at the church, but . . . your father had a different plan."
"He didn't," Honor says in disbelief.
"Didn't what?" Utah says.
"He wanted to bury him with Pastor Brian," Sagan says.
"In a cemetery?" Luck asks.
"You got arrested for desecrating a grave?" I ask.
Sagan nods. "I mean, technically we were just digging a hole near Pastor Brian, but when the police catch you in a cemetery with shovels, they don't really care what the explanation is."
"Holy shit," Utah says.
"Get in the van!" my father yells.
We all climb into the van. I end up in the backseat with Sagan, but I don't mind it. Utah cranks the van, but right before we pull out of the police station, a cruiser pulls in. My father rolls down the window.
"Oh, no," Sagan says.
"What?"
He nods toward the cops getting out of the car. "They're the ones who arrested us."
"Dad," I say, not wanting him to do anything stupid.
"What'd you do with the dog?" my father asks the officers.
The cop who was driving walks over to the window. "Buried him at Pastor Brian's church," he says. "Same place you probably should have buried him."
"Yeah, well . . . hindsight and all that shit," my dad says. He waves his hand to Utah. "Let's go."
Utah backs up and the cop taps the top of the hood before turning to walk toward the police station. I watch out the window as both the cops start laughing.
"Great. Another rumor to pin on the Voss family," Honor says from the seat in front of us.
"Technically, it's not a rumor," Sagan says. "We were digging in a cemetery without a permit. It's illegal."
Honor spins around. "I know that, but now the entire town is going to think Dad was trying to exhume Pastor Brian. Everyone knows he's an atheist, now there'll be rumors about him wanting to perform satanic rituals on his dead body."
"Won't be the worst thing people have said about us," my father says from the front seat.
Honor faces forward again. "I guess it wouldn't be so bad if most of the rumors weren't true."
My father looks at her in the rearview mirror. "Are you saying you're ashamed to be a Voss?"
Honor sighs. "No. I'm just ashamed to be your daughter."
"Oh, shit," Luck says under his breath.
My father turns around. "And why is that, Honor?"
"Dad," Utah says. "Give it a rest. It's been a crazy week."
"Oh, I don't know," Honor says sarcastically. "Maybe because you don't know the first thing about being a decent husband or father?"
My father turns back around and unlocks his door. "Stop the van."
"What?" Utah says. "No."
"Stop the van!" my father yells.
"Just stop the van, Utah," I say. If my father is about to have a nervous breakdown, I'd rather he have it outside of the van than inside of it.
Utah pulls over, but before he even has the gear shift in park, my father is opening his door, climbing out of the van. We all watch, dumbfounded, as he starts kicking up gravel on the side of the road. I've never seen him this mad.
"Is he okay?" I ask Sagan.
Sagan shrugs. "He seemed fine after we were arrested. He even laughed about it."
Utah opens the driver's side door and walks around the car. Honor opens the side door to the van and everyone starts climbing out. Once we're all standing next to the van, my father pauses his assault on the gravel long enough to catch a breath. He waves a hand across all of us.
"You think just because I'm an adult I have it all figured out? You think I'm not allowed to make mistakes?" He's not yelling, but he certainly isn't talking with an inside voice. He begins to pace back and forth. "No matter how hard you try, things don't always turn out the way you wish they could."
Utah looks agitated. "Well when you make poor choices, things don't usually turn out to be sunshine and roses, Dad. Maybe you should have thought about that before you cheated on Mom."
My father takes several steps toward Utah. He rushes him fast enough that Utah walks backward until he's pressed against the van. "That's what I'm talking about! You all think you know everything!" My father spins and takes several steps away from us. He brings his hands up to the back of his head and inhales several deep breaths. When he finally turns around, he's looking directly at me. Sagan puts a reassuring hand against my lower back.
"Do you want to know why the pills you stole were placebo pills?"
I nod, because I've been dying to know since I found out.
"She isn't in pain," my father says. "Your mother isn't in pain, she isn't recovering from cancer. She never even had cancer." He walks closer to us. "Your mother never had cancer," he repeats. "Let that sink in."
I can see Utah's fists clench as he takes a sudden step toward our father. "You better elaborate because I am five seconds away from punching you."
My dad laughs halfheartedly and drags a frustrated hand down his face. His hands then fall to his hips. "Your mother . . . she has . . . issues. She's had issues since the day she was in that car wreck." He's not yelling anymore. Now he just looks defeated. "The brain injury . . . it changed her. She hasn't been the same, and I know you guys didn't know her before then but . . ." His face contorts and he looks up at the sky like he's trying to hold back tears. "She was amazing. She was perfect. She was . . . happy." He faces the other direction so none of us can see him cry. It's one of the saddest things I've ever seen.
I clasp my hand over my mouth and wait for him to gather himself. It's all I can do.
When he finally does turn around, he doesn't look any of us in the eye. He stares at the ground. "Watching her change from the woman I fell in love with to someone else entirely was the hardest thing I've ever been through. Harder than trying to take care of three kids under the age of two by myself when her episodes would hit and she'd lie in bed for weeks at a time. It was harder than when she started inventing these illnesses in her head, convincing herself she was dying. Harder than when I had to have her committed, and then lied to you all when I told you she was in the hospital for the cancer she was convinced she had." He looks up at me and then Honor. He finally rests his eyes on Utah. "She's not the woman I married. And yes, I know it was terrible of me to get involved with Victoria, but it happened and I can't take it back. And yes, it's terrible now when your mother has rare moments of clarity. Because when she does, she realizes what her life has become. What our marriage became. And it's devastating to both of us. And it's all I can do to hold her and reassure her that I still love her. That I'll always love her." He blows out a shaky breath and wipes his tears away. "Because I do love your mother. I always will. It's just . . . sometimes things don't turn out how you want them to. And even though I'm an atheist, there isn't a day that goes by that I don't thank God that I have a wife who understands that. Victoria has lived the past four and a half years in a house with a woman that I am still in love with. She doesn't question me when your mother needs me. Victoria doesn't correct any of you when you insult her and insinuate she's a homewrecker." He walks to the van and reaches inside for his jacket. "I've never told any of you the truth because I didn't want any of you to judge your mother. But I didn't cheat on your mother when she was dying of cancer. She was never dying. She's not dying now. She's sick, yes. But not in a way that any of us can help her." He puts on his jacket and zips it up. "I'm walking home."
He begins to head away from the van, toward our house that's still over three miles away. He pauses and faces us again. "All I've ever wanted was for you kids to have the opportunity to love a mother like you deserved. To think the world of her. That's all Victoria's ever wanted for you." He starts walking backward. "I just had no idea how much you would all hate me in the process."
He spins around again and starts walking in the direction of the house. I can hear Honor crying. I even hear Utah crying. I wipe away my own tears and try to inhale a breath that will sustain me for more than two seconds.
I think we're all in shock. It's several minutes before any of us move. My father is long out of sight by the time Utah regains his compo
sure enough to speak.
"Get in the van," he says. He walks around to the driver's side and climbs in, but none of us move. He honks the horn and then hits the steering wheel. "Get in the damn van!"
Luck takes the front seat and the rest of us climb in the back. Before Sagan even has the door closed, Utah is peeling out, doing a U-turn.
"Where are we going?" Honor asks him.
"We're going to bury that damn dog with Pastor Brian."
Chapter Sixteen
Pastor Brian's newer church is much bigger than his old one--the one we live in. I don't feel so bad that my dad bought it all those years ago. Pastor Brian seems to have upgraded.
Well . . . until he died.
"Hurry up," Honor says. Sagan is digging the fresh dirt off Wolfgang's grave. Utah is at the end of the driveway keeping watch. Luck is . . . oh my, God.
"Are you picking your nose?"
Luck wipes his fingers on his shirt and shrugs.
"You're so gross," Honor says. She glances at me and mutters under her breath, "I can't believe you almost had sex with him."
I ignore her insult. I don't feel like getting into another fight with her when three out of the five of us are holding the brand-new shovels we bought on the way here. That wouldn't end well. I also don't argue with her because . . . well . . . I can't believe I almost had sex with him, either.
"Got it," Sagan says. He bends down and starts moving the dirt away from the sheet that Wolfgang is wrapped in. "Luck, give me a hand."
Luck shakes his head. "No way, man. There's got to be some bad karma attached to what you're doing. I want no part in it."
"Oh, for crying out loud." I bend down and help Sagan dig Wolfgang the rest of the way out of the dirt. Sagan is able to lift and carry him to the van on his own. I open the back door and he puts him inside the van.
"I need to put the dirt back on his grave so no one is suspicious," Sagan says.
"You're getting really good at this criminal life," I tease.
Sagan grins and closes the back door to the van. "Do you find hardened criminals attractive?" He raises his brow, and the obvious flirtation has my heart spinning in my chest.
I hear Honor groan as she passes us. "I hate this already."
Sagan rolls his eyes and then walks back to the side of the church to refill the grave. When we're all finally back inside the van, Honor says, "What's the purpose of this, anyway? Dad hated that dog. I don't think he really cares where he's buried."