Chapter 21: This One's Mine

I stopped in the middle of the aisle, with three hundred people watching my father cross the room.

He walked slowly, with one hand on the backs of chairs.

Mom half rose from table 1.

"Lawrence," she said, in the voice that had always worked. "Sit down."

He didn't look at her.

He climbed the three steps to the stage.

Chloe stood at the microphone with her hands still folded, and for the first time that night her face had nothing on it.

"Dad," she said softly. "Not now."

"Yes, now."

"You're not well."

"I'm well enough." He held out his hand for the microphone.

She didn't give it to him.

He waited, very patiently, until her fingers loosened.

He tapped it twice, and the sound rang through the room.

"My name is Lawrence Hartwell," he said. "I am Chloe's guardian and Saskia's father."

His voice shook, and then it steadied.

"I'm going to tell you how Chloe's father died."

The ballroom was so silent I could hear the candles.

"It was my daughter's ninth birthday. I drank four bourbons on the porch."

His hands tightened on the stand.

"Mr. Daley asked me for my car keys. He asked me twice. I told him I was fine."

Somebody at table 3 said, "Oh, no."

"He came to the driver's window and asked a third time.

"I put the car in reverse, and he was standing behind it."

Dad took a breath.

"I killed him. Nobody else did."

A glass broke somewhere, and nobody turned.

"Saskia was never in that driveway," Dad said. "She was on the porch with my mother. She did not run after a balloon."

He looked toward table 1.

"My wife told her to say that in a hospital waiting room. She was nine years old, and I let her."

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