Dorsey smiled.
“Can you think of anywhere private we can go?” she whispered, stunned by her own boldness.
“Yes, I have an idea—come on,” he said, and they hurried up the main stairs, past Steve’s office, and down a long corridor, Dorey’s wet tennis shoes squeaking with every step. “This is the service entrance to the private dining room. I doubt anybody is in here right now.”
He was right. Flipping on the lights, Dorsey saw that they were alone in a formal dining room, complete with sparkling crystal chandelier, oil paintings of the former plantation residents, and three huge windows facing the ocean and the storm.
“Sorry about your boyfriend,” Jack offered, his eyebrows knit together with concern. “If you ever want to talk about it, I’m here.”
“Thanks,” she said. “It really is in the past, but for some reason, I can’t let go of it. He was embarrassed to be with me, after, after my dad died. He was from a long-standing family in Grandville, and well, my family’s scandal made him uncomfortable.”
“What a jerk,” Jack said, reaching over to hold Dorsey’s hand. They sat on the plush wool area rug, trying not to drip too much on the hardwood floor. “What could possibly make somebody act like that? That’s when you needed someone by your side. I mean your father’s death is a tragedy, not a scandal. I wish I could meet him. I’d punch him.”
“No you wouldn’t,” Dorsey said, rubbing the oogle in her pocket. “The sad thing, for Mom and me, was that we should have seen it coming. First somebody dyed our swimming pool a blood-red color. I came home from school and the pool, it was so creepy.”
“Why would anybody do that?” he asked, squeezing her shoulders.
Dorsey didn’t answer, she was lost in the past. She shivered.
“Then, they poisoned my dog, Rufus. He was a husky, with bright blue eyes. He was so sweet, so protective of me. He died in our kitchen, in my arms, foaming at the mouth. It was horrible.” Dorsey paused and took a deep breath. She’d never been able to say the words, she never wanted to believe them. “It was all to warn my dad, to force him to stop performing abortions. That was a tiny part of his practice. He was a celebrated Ob/Gyn doctor. He’d delivered everyone in town’s babies. But they took it all away. They threatened to kill us, my mom and me, too.”
“Oh, my God, Dorsey, I’m so sorry,” Jack said pulling her to him in a firm hug as another bolt of lightning lit up the room. With the crack of thunder, the electricity in the room surged, and then went out. One of the portraits on the wall, a Mrs. Stoddard, seemed to be staring down at them, creepily illuminated by each lightning flash, and she wasn’t smiling.
“I can’t talk about it anymore tonight,” she said, stifling a sob. She’d come close to telling Jack the whole story, and if she had, she would’ve ruined everything.
“I don’t even know what to say, you’ve been through so much. I’m here, if you need to talk, whenever you need to talk.”
They sat in silence, holding each other.
“You know, whenever I think my life has been tough and I get all self-absorbed and angry, especially angry, I try to remind myself that others have been through much worse,” Jack said. He leaned against the wall in the dark, Dorsey pulled into his lap. “My dad was such a jerk, leaving my mom with two kids to feed and raise. No child support, nothing. No playing catch, no father-son moments.”
“That’s just as hard, Jack,” she said, realizing that even if she only had a dad around until she was fourteen, he was a great dad. “I was lucky. I know. He was a great man.”
“That’s probably why you’re so good with kids. You had role models, a mom and a dad, showing you how to do it,” Jack said, and Dorsey felt him growing tense behind her. “I’d be awful with kids, with a family.”
“Are you kidding? You’re great with Tade,” she said, turning to try