Back at the house there were mounds of food, friends stopping by; quiet, somber talk mixed with the occasional joke and twitter of laughter. In the middle of it all Frank Maxwell sat on the couch and stared off. Anyone who approached him to offer condolences was soon on his way when the man failed to even acknowledge their presence.
Sean watched Michelle, who was watching her father. When a group of people came in, Frank Maxwell finally did stir. The scowl on his face made Michelle and Sean turn to see what he was looking at. Six people had come in the door, four men and two women. They were carrying platters of food and were chatting among themselves. Michelle recognized a few of them from the funeral service. When she turned back to her father, she started.
He was gone.
She and Sean exchanged glances. Sean motioned toward the back hall where the master bedroom was located. Then he tapped his chest and nodded at the new group of folks. Michelle blinked her understanding at him and headed for the bedroom.
She tapped on the door.
“What!”
Her father sounded angry.
“It’s me, Dad.”
“I’m just taking a minute,” he said. His tone was calmer but she could still sense the underlying fury.
“Can I come in?”
A thirty-second silence passed.
She tapped again. “Dad?” she finally said.
“All right. Jesus, come in.”
She opened the door and then closed it behind her. Her father was sitting on the edge of the bed holding something. She sat next to him and glanced down.
It was their wedding photo. They’d done it right. A big church service with her mom looking radiant in flowing white and her crew-cut dad in tie and tails. Only twenty-one, he’d just returned from Vietnam. He was tall, tan, and handsome with a confident smile. Sally Maxwell, not yet twenty, was beautiful. There was much of her mother’s good looks in Michelle, though growing up she had never focused on that. She had been closer to her father, the classic tomboy who wants to impress big, strong, tough Daddy.
She took the photo from him and placed it back on the nightstand. “Do you need anything?”
“I’m peopled out, Michelle. I can’t go back out there.”
“Then you don’t have to. I’ll take care of it. Maybe you should get some sleep.”
“Yeah, right,” he said dismissively.
“Has your lawyer contacted you?”
He glanced up sharply. “What?”
“You said you had a lawyer. I was just wondering if you’d talked to him yet.”
He just shook his head and looked back down.
She waited another minute but he didn’t say anything. She finally rose to leave after giving him a hug.
As she reached the door he did say something. It caused her to freeze with her hand on the doorknob.
“You think I killed her, don’t you?”
She slowly turned back around. He was holding the wedding photo again, though he wasn’t looking at the happy young couple captured for all time there. He was staring straight at her.
“You think I killed her.” He held up the photo as though the evidence to support that accusation was all right there.
“I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to say it,” he snapped.