Frank finally admitted he couldn’t read enough of the form to complete it comfortably.
Not that he couldn’t read anything.
He recognized familiar words, labels, signs, and names.
“But that wasn’t the problem.”
But unfamiliar paragraphs were different.
Forms were worse.
Marian had handled most of them for years.
“Did you know?” I asked.
“No.”
Neither had I.
Forms were worse.
I remembered Marian filling out neighborhood petitions while Frank made coffee.
Writing their Christmas cards.
Labeling dishes for block parties.
I’d always thought that was simply how they divided things.
Maybe partly it was.
I’d always thought that was simply how they divided things.
“And the learning center?” I pressed.
“Frank enrolled.”
“Why now?”
Eliam looked at me.
“That’s not mine to tell.”
This time I accepted the answer.
“That’s not mine to tell.”
“Why the week off?”
“He nearly backed out. I had vacation days. I told him I’d go with him the first week.”
“You’re teaching him?”
“No. The people there know what they’re doing. I drive him when he wants a ride, help with the computer exercises, and practice with him.”
“You’re teaching him?”
I thought about the cards I’d watched them use.
“Why pretend you’re working?”
“Because I was an idiot.”
“Better answer.”
“I thought if I changed my routine, you’d ask questions.”
“Why pretend you’re working?”
“So you created fake meetings.”
“Yes.”
“Traffic?”
He rubbed his forehead.
“That one was especially ridiculous.”
“It was.”
“So you created fake meetings.”
***
Frank called that evening.
Eliam looked at me, then answered.
“Hey.”
He listened.
“No, she’s here.”
Another pause.
Then he held the phone toward me.
“He wants to talk to you. I told him everything.”
Frank called that evening.
I took it.
“Hello?”
Frank’s voice came through rough and familiar.
“I hear I caused trouble.”
“You had help.”
“I told him not to tell you.”
“I’m aware.”
“So be mad at me.”
“I hear I caused trouble.”
I looked at Eliam.
