Classified As Murder

I put my hand over the mouthpiece. “It’s some woman named Lorelei. Do you want to talk to her?”

Sean swore. “Tell her to . . .” Evidently he thought better of finishing that phrase. Instead he came over to me and thrust out his hand. “Let me talk to her.”

I handed over the receiver. I decided that a hasty retreat was in order. Before I was out of range, however, I heard Sean say in rough tones, “What the hell do you want, Lorelei? I told you the other day not to call me again. I thought you’d get the message when I didn’t answer your calls on my cell phone.”

On the second-floor landing I met Diesel on his way down from the third floor. “Did you help Stewart feel better, boy?” I bent to scratch behind his ears, and he rewarded me with his diesel-engine purr. “Come on, let’s go back to bed.”

Diesel and I were barely comfortable, settled down in our usual spots, when I heard a loud crash downstairs. I threw back the covers and ran downstairs. Diesel stayed in bed.

My chest was heaving slightly by the time I skidded to a stop in the doorway of the kitchen. I tried to catch my breath as I surveyed the scene in front of me. Sean stood at the sink, his back toward me, head down. On the floor near him lay the shards of at least two of the mugs we used earlier for our tea.

“What is going on here?” I said, trying to keep my voice level. “Did you throw those on the floor?” From the loudness of the crash, I figured he had to have thrown them deliberately on the floor.

“Not now, Dad.” Sean didn’t turn around. “I’ll clean up the mess and replace the damn mugs.”

“I’m getting really tired of waiting for you to find a good time to tell me what is going on with you.” I took three steps into the kitchen. “You can’t pull a stunt like this and not expect me to be annoyed and concerned. What is going on with you, son?”

Sean turned around then. He stared at me for a long moment. “Why do you even want to know?” His face reddened. “I don’t have to answer to you or anyone else.” He stepped over the debris on the floor and headed toward the utility room.

“Sean Robert Harris, you come back here. Don’t walk away from me when I’m talking to you.”

Sean turned around to scowl at me.

“And what do you mean by why would I even want to know?” I held on to my temper by the barest thread. “You’re my son. Naturally I want to know what’s going on in your life, especially if something’s bothering you.”

“Why now, all of a sudden?” Sean took a step in my direction, his face twisted in fury. “Tell me, Dad. You haven’t been very interested in my life the past four or five years. What’s so different now?”

“How can you say such a thing?” My head ached, my blood pressure had jumped so high. “We’ve talked on the phone several times a month for years.”

“Yeah, because I called you. How many times did you actually pick up the phone and call me, Dad?”

For a moment I couldn’t breathe. The truth of what he said hit me hard. I had waited for him to call me. I hardly ever called him, except on his birthday. Why not? Not wanting to bother him when I knew he was busy with work?

Suddenly that seemed like a thin excuse.

Sean moved closer to the table. His hands gripped the back of a chair as if he needed support to continue standing. “And when I did call, and I tried to talk to you about something serious, you’d mouth some platitude and tell me everything would be fine. You never listened, so I finally gave up. After that when I called, we talked about stupid things like your damn cat and the latest funny thing he’d done.”

“Sean, I’m so sorry.” I was furious with myself for what I had done to my son. I knew exactly what happened, and why.

And now I had to explain it to my son and pray that he would understand and forgive me.

“You’re right,” I told him. “I didn’t listen. I let you down when you needed me. I can’t excuse myself. All I can do is tell you what I’ve come to understand about the years since your mother died.”

Sean’s face darkened at the mention of his mother. “Go ahead. I’m listening.”

I took a deep breath to steady myself. “While your mother was so ill, all I could focus on was her. Then Aunt Dottie died not long after, and that hit me really hard, too. I suppose the pain of those two deaths made me turn inward, away from everyone else, even my own son and daughter.” I paused for another breath. “Then I moved back here and found a kitten in the parking lot of the public library.

“From that point on I focused all my attention on Diesel, and he rewarded me with loving companionship. I guess you could say I cocooned myself in a quiet little world of routine. I had my job and my volunteer work, and I didn’t let much else intrude.”

Sean didn’t say anything. He stared at me.

“The murder last fall shook me out of my little safe world. I began to recognize my selfishness and what I’d let happen, but I never realized the extent of the hurt I caused.”

I waited for a response but Sean just kept staring at me.