The Obsession(28)
“I’m really sorry about your mom and all.”
“Thanks. It’s nice you came. It’s nice.”
“I’m sorry, you know? My mom died when I was a baby.”
“But . . . I met your mom.”
“My dad married her when I was about three. She’s greatand she’s, like Mom, but my, you know, mom died.”
“I didn’t know. I’m sorry, Mark.”
“Yeah, well, it’s hard, you know, and I wanted to say I’m sorry.”
Touched, she stepped closer, hugged him. Realized the mistake when he hugged her backwith a hand sliding down to her butt.
She pulled back. “It’s my mother’s memorial.”
“Yeah, yeah, sorry. I just thought . . .” He shrugged, managed a half laugh. “Whatever.”
“Thanks for coming,” she told him. “You can get a soft drink at the bar, if you want.”
“Yeah, maybe. See you around.”
Alone, Naomi turned. She could sneak into the storeroom, get some quiet, get some time alone before anyone noticed she wasn’t there.
But she nearly walked into Anson Chaffins.
“Um. Hey.” He shoved up his glasses, then stuck his hands in his pockets. “I guess it’s weird but I was, like, you know, there, so I thought I should come and say . . . whatever.”
“Let’s go sit over there. People won’t bug me if I’m sitting down with somebody.”
“I saw some of the guys from school. But I kind of hung back until they went off. It’s weird, like I said. People want to know, you know, what it was like, and don’t want to ask you. Well, plus, you haven’t been back to school. Are you coming back?”
“Yeah, next week.”
“It’ll be weird.”
She gave a half laughhe wrote better than he talked, she thought. “I need to keep up my gradesMason, too. We have to think about getting into college.”
“I’m heading to Columbia next fall.”
“You got in?”
“It looks good for it. I got a couple backups, but it looks good. I’m going to study journalism.”
“You’ll be good at it.”
“Yeah.” He shifted. “So. I heard a couple of the cops talking. You know they had to take my statement and all that? And I heard a couple of them talking about Bowes. Your mother being his wife. Thomas David Bowes.”
Naomi clutched her hands together in her lap, said nothing.
“I knew the name, because of the movie. And I read the book, too. You’re that Naomi.”
“Does everyone know?”
“Like I said, I heard the cops talking, and I knew who they were talking about, and I’d read the book. I did some researchmore, I mean. You’re Naomi Bowes.”
“Carson. That’s my legal name.”
“Yeah, I get that. Look, I didn’t say anything to anybody.”
“Don’t. I just want to finish school. Mason needs to finish school.”
“I haven’t told anybody, but look, other people can do research, especially now that the movie’s such a big hit. Hell, lots of kids who don’t read go to the movies. What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to finish school. I’m going to go to college.”
“I won’t tell anybody, right?” He shoved his glasses back up his nose. “It’s just between you and me, okay? I want you to tell me the story. Hold on.”
He held up a hand, edged closer with his glasses sliding down again. He just took them off.
“From your point of view, your story, Carson. We can keep where you live and all that out of it. I won’t tell anybodyand that’s a lot, right, because I want to be a journalist and this is a really big story. But I’ll hold back some details.”
He picked up his glasses, sat back, pushed them on. “I don’t have to do that.”
“My mother just died.”
“Yeah. Otherwise I wouldn’t have put it together. I don’t tell anybody, and you give me the whole storyfirst person. We’ll go out a few times, somewhere quiet, and I’ll record your story. It’s a big deal, and if I do it right, it could land me an internship at the Times. You’ve never talked to anybody, not Simon Vance, not the scriptwriter, the director, the actors. Your father did. Your mom, too, but not you. I did my research.”
They were friendsshe thought they were friends. He’d been with her when she’d found her mother. He’d called the ambulance. And now . . .
“Simon Vance and the screenwriter beat you to it, Chaffins. Nobody’s going to care.”
“Shit, are you kidding me? Everybody’s going to care. Look, we’ll meet up. You can come to my place during the day, after school. My parents will be at work, and nobody has to know. I gotta split. I’ll text you when and where.”