"You're gonna break your foot if you're not careful."

I whirled around to find Frank standing behind me. "What the h.e.l.l are you doing here?"

"Getting smokes." He held up a pack of Parliaments. "Want one?"

"No."

Frank shook out a cigarette, struck a match, and inhaled deeply. "I owe you an apology," he said, not looking at me.

"What for?"

"Do I have to say it?"

There were so many things he could be apologizing for, I couldn't figure out which screwup this apology was meant for. Regardless, I was the last person he needed to be apologizing to.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because my daughter won't talk to me," he said.

"Can you blame her?"

He chuckled. "No, I guess not."

It was uncomfortable, standing there with him, his words hanging in the air like the smoke from his cigarette. Finally Frank said, "You'll be glad to know I'm going back to Scranton."

"What? When?"

"Tonight."

"Does Sea know? Layla?" I took his silence as confirmation that they didn't. "You have to tell them," I said. "It'd be really s.h.i.tty of you not to."

Frank laughed, low and bitter. "No one's gonna miss me, kid. You said it yourself-you were all better off with me gone."

"That's a coward's response."

"Is it?" Frank took one last drag off his cigarette, dropped it on the concrete, and stomped it out. "Fine, then. I guess I'm a coward." He reached around to his back pocket and took out an envelope. "I was going to drop this off at the house, but you can take it for me, can't you?"

"What is it?"

"What's it look like? A letter."

I eyed the envelope, which looked too fat to be just a letter. "How much cash you got in there?"

"Enough."

He handed it to me. "I still think you should at least say goodbye."

"You do it for me," he said.

I started to walk away when Frank called to me. "Hey," he said. "I left the number of the place where I'll be staying. Make sure Seattle gets it. Tell her, you know, to give me a call. When she's ready."

He climbed into his Olds before I could tell him I would.

Some Guys Have All the Luck.

I walked back home but didn't go inside. Thankfully, the keys to the Cougar were still in my pocket, so I fired up the beast and headed to Christiana Hospital. It was time for a little coffee talk with my mom.

Layla looked surprised to see me. "What happened to your party?"

"Oh, that," I said, waving her off. "Nothing. Listen, can you take a break?"

She eyed me suspiciously. "Sure," she said. "Give me a few."

Fifteen minutes later we were sitting across from each other at a small table in the cafeteria. She blew on her too-hot coffee while I retrieved the fat envelope Frank had given me and slid it across the table.

"What's this?" she asked.

"Open it."

A bunch of bills spilled out onto the table. Hundreds, twenties, tens. A note scrawled on a piece of motel stationery dropped on top of the pile.

"What's it say, Mom?"

"His horse hit."

"What?"

Layla shook her head. "Frank. He's playing the horses again. Went down to Atlantic City mid-May and hit on a horse. According to this," she continued, tapping the letter, "he's been living off the winnings ever since."

"So much for changing."

We sorted the bills into piles and Layla did a quick count. "Jesus," she said, her voice a near whisper.

"What?"

"There's eight thousand dollars here."

"Holy s.h.i.t!"

We were silent for a minute, both of us staring at the wad of money resting between us. Eight thousand dollars could pay for a lot of things. Fixing our central air-conditioning, for one. A new m.u.f.fler for the Cougar, for another.

Layla opened her mouth to speak but I cut her off. "No," I said. "You're not giving it back. How much of your savings did he p.i.s.s away at the track? He owes you this money."

Her face clouded over and she shoved the cash back into its envelope. "We'll talk about this later," she said. "Right now I'm going to see if I can find anyone to cover the rest of my shift."

Another fifteen minutes and we were heading home. Layla was staring out the window, a dark look on her face. "I don't know how I'm going to tell Missy."

"You don't have to," I said. "I'll do it for you."

"But it's my fault. I'm the one who pushed Frank on her again. I really thought-"

"You weren't wrong," I cut in. "He left Sea his address and phone number, didn't he? It's a start."

She patted my knee. "You take good care of your old mom, don't you?"

"Sometimes."

"No," Layla said. "Most times." She leaned forward and turned the eight-track off. "I've been thinking about our conversation the other night-what you said about school."

"Mom!" I said. "I seriously cannot talk about this right now."

"So don't talk-listen."

I gritted my teeth, waiting for her to deliver her seven hundredth lecture of the summer on Why Critter Needs to Be a Better Student.

"You remember Trish, right? The cute blond nurse you had the crush on? She went to Haley, too-graduated five or six years ago. Anyway, she was telling me that she did this work release program her senior year. Took three cla.s.ses in the morning and then worked at the hospital in the afternoons for credit."

"And . . . ?"

"And I was thinking maybe you could do something like that. You'd have to pa.s.s your summer cla.s.s, of course, and get Cs or better next year to stay in the program. But I've been thinking that maybe you would learn better outside the cla.s.sroom than in one."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. For as long as I could remember, Layla had been saying stuff like "If only you'd try harder . . ." and "I wish you'd really apply yourself." Now this?

"So what's the catch?" I said. "There is a catch, right?"

"I want you in tutoring. Effective immediately."

I pulled into the driveway and put the car in park. "That's it? That's the catch?"

She nodded. "I'm not giving up on the idea of you going to college, either."

"Where would I work? I mean, I don't even know what I want to do with my life."

"That's the best part," she said, smiling. "Trish's boyfriend, Randy, works at WJBR. They're looking for an intern for fall and she thinks he could get you in. You're supposed to call him tomorrow when you get home from school-if you're interested, that is."

Interested? The thought of me interning at an adult contemporary radio station-a very Rod-friendly kind of place-and only having to do half days at Haley was almost enough to erase the ugliness I'd been dealing with all day.

Almost.

"We should go in," Layla said. "We can talk more about this later."

We found Sea and Jesse sitting in the middle of the living room floor, playing rummy.

"Jess," Layla said, "can you excuse us for a minute?"

"This is about Frank, isn't it?" Sea asked.

Layla nodded. "How did you know?"

"Why else would you come home in the middle of a shift?" She leaned back against the couch. "Jesse can stay."

The four of us sat on the carpet together. Layla took the envelope out of her purse and handed it to Seattle. "Frank gave this to you?" she asked.

"Yes," Layla said. "And I'm giving it to you. For college."

Seattle rolled her eyes. "Screw that," she said. "Let's get the G.o.dd.a.m.ned air-conditioning fixed already."

Layla started to protest but I jumped in. "There's more, Sea," I said. "Frank's gone."

"Gone?" she repeated. "Like dead gone?"

"No," I said. "Like back-to-Scranton gone."

"Oh." She sucked in a big breath and let it out slowly. "Oh," she said again, more softly this time.

Layla reached out and stroked Sea's shoulder. "You okay, Missy?"

"Sure," she said, shrugging. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You don't have to hide your disappointment," Layla said. "We can talk about it."

Sea pushed her hand away. "You don't get it. I don't care."

"Of course you care."

"No!" she yelled. "You care. I never wanted him to come back to begin with."

"Lower your voice," Layla said. "Let's talk about this in a civilized tone."

"But I don't want to talk about it," Sea said. "I never want to talk about it again."

She got up and headed outside, slamming the door behind her. Layla nudged me. "Go after her, Boo. Make sure she's okay."

Outside, Sea was sitting on the front stoop. I sat down next to her and said, "So you really don't care, huh?"

She shook her head, but I read something different on her face. I put my arms around her. She was stiff at first, but then melted into my hug.

"You were right about Scott, you know," she said after a while. "He's leaving, too."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

"He says he's got some mondo job waiting for him back home, but I doubt it."