He gave a wide-eyed nod.

Liv considered the urine all over the toilet seat and floor. She should leave it for the witch out front. But that was all she needed, Danielle telling everyone she’d vandalized Parker’s. She cleaned up the mess and dropped the key on the counter on their way out. But before reaching the door, Liv stopped. She marched back to the counter and scooped up the giant container of candy. She could feel Danielle’s glare burning into her as she and Tommy left the store.

“Welcome home,” she whispered to herself.

CHAPTER 21

Liv pulled the rental car into the driveway and frowned at the scene. The house, her childhood home, was in a state of disrepair. The hedges were in desperate need of trimming. Shutters crooked, paint peeling.

Cindy met them at the door. She, too, showed signs of neglect. Her hair had a two-inch band of gray at the part. She wore polyester pants with a threadbare cardigan.

Liv’s older sister had never been one to primp, and when they were kids, many wondered aloud how the two could be related. In high school Liv had been the town beauty, voted Irrigation Queen three times in the sexist pageant held every summer. She’d inherited their late mother’s delicate, faintly aristocratic features. Cindy was their father’s daughter. Big boned. A wide face and nose.

“Is this Tommy? I can’t believe it,” Cindy said in that raspy voice of hers. “You were just a baby the last time I saw you.” This was directed more at Liv than Tommy.

“It’s me,” Tommy said earnestly.

“Well, come on in and give your auntie a hug.”

Tommy hesitated, but sauntered over and gave her a sideways hug.

“I’m sorry we’re late,” Liv said. “Flight delays, then—”

“Visiting hours are over soon,” Cindy cut in, “so we probably should get over there if you want to see him today.”

They took Liv’s rental since Cindy’s vehicle didn’t have a car seat. Her sister glanced at the giant container of candy wedged between the front seats, but didn’t ask. It wasn’t long before they were on another lonely highway headed to the nursing home. On either side of them were vast fields, punctuated with telephone poles, birds balancing on the lines.

“They say we have a week to find him somewhere,” Cindy said, matter-of-fact.

“Or what?” Liv replied. “They’ll throw an elderly man with Alzheimer’s out on the street?”

“No, they’ll just hire an overpriced caregiver, put him in the most expensive room, and charge us an arm and a leg until we relent.”

“Have you looked into other places?”

Cindy nodded. “Most won’t take wanderers, much less disruptive residents. And they’re pricey.”

“How pricey?”

“Four times what we’re paying.”

Liv guffawed. They could barely afford Twilight Meadows. “We can’t swing any more money. With Maggie leaving for college, we’re going to struggle just to cover our mortgage.” It was even worse than that, she believed. But after their last fight, she’d relinquished the monthly bills to Evan. For now she was staying blissfully ignorant. A reckoning was coming, she knew.

Cindy just stared ahead at the miles of flatland.

Liv didn’t want to say it, but she had to. “The house. Have you considered selling—”

“Where would I go?” Cindy said, her tone indignant.

“I don’t know. It’s a big place. Maybe you could—”

“What, rent a room above Pipe Layers?”

Liv frowned. “Of course not.” Then again, Cindy might fit in with the toughs who rented the flophouse rooms above the town’s only bar. Before taking her job running the local post office, Cindy had been employed by Adair Irrigation like their father. Working alongside the lifers on the line hadn’t exactly softened her rough edges.

Liv scolded herself—she was being too harsh. Like the candy from Parker’s, her sister might have a hard exterior, but there was a soft center in there. Though you might spit out the sour candy before ever finding it.

Cindy said, “I get that this town hasn’t been good to your family, but this is my life.” Cindy had stubbornly stayed in Adair. Most of the citizens hadn’t held her relation to the Pines against her, probably for fear she’d throw away their mail.

The hum of tires on the road filled the silence.

“Is there any way we can convince them to let him stay?” Liv said at last.

Cindy frowned.

“It can’t be that bad,” Liv said.

“He’s wandered off four times. And last week Dad threw a bedpan against the wall and called the nurse a”—Cindy lowered her voice because of Tommy—“a effing c-word.”

Liv put her fingers on her temples and massaged them. She’d been there only an hour and already her head was pounding.

“Trust me,” Cindy said, “I got into it with the staff. They threatened to ban me from the home if you can believe that.”

Liv could believe it.

“But I got a call yesterday from the director,” Cindy said. “He said there may be something you can do to help.”

Liv looked at her sister. “What is it?”

“I’ll let him tell you,” Cindy said.

Liv sat quietly again, annoyed that Cindy was keeping her in suspense.

Purposefully changing the subject, Cindy said, “You hear about Noah?”

“Hear what?”

“Your old boyfriend’s getting promoted from lieutenant governor to the big boy job. Governor Turner’s gotten himself caught up in some mess with young girls. Turner’s expected to resign any day now; they say he may be indicted. By law, the lieutenant governor fills the rest of the term.”

Liv thought about this. A rush of excitement flooded through her. Noah had been an outspoken supporter of Danny, and as governor he would head the Nebraska pardon board. Just when she’d given up on Danny ever being let out, something she’d never say out loud, a glimmer of hope. Then again, that was the cruelest thing about Danny’s case. Matt always said it was like the scene from an old mafia movie: Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in. It had nearly destroyed Evan. And their marriage.

After checking in at the front desk, they walked past a communal area that was filled with elderly people sitting at tables playing board games or watching television. Two frail-looking men, both in wheelchairs, sat across from each other in the far corner, studying a chessboard. Liv’s thoughts drifted again to Matt. He loved the game. She made a mental note to call him. Matt was still angry at Evan, at Liv as well, she supposed, but he had a sweet heart and he’d come around.

In the residential section, Cindy stopped in front of a closed door. Underneath a medical chart there was a sign that read, I’M CHARLIE FORD. I HAVE TWO DAUGHTERS AND FOUR GRANDCHILDREN. I WAS IN THE ARMY THEN SPENT MY CAREER WORKING AS A WELDER AT ADAIR IRRIGATION. It was a cue card for the staff, to give them conversation starters and to remind them that her father was a real person before the monster had stolen him.

“You think it’s okay for…” Liv directed her glance at Tommy.

“It should be fine. If not, I can take him into the courtyard. The shelter brings over dogs to play with residents, so maybe there’ll be some puppies.”

“Puppies?” Tommy said, perking up.

Cindy knocked loudly, waited a beat, then opened the door slowly when no response came.

Their father was sitting in his old lounge chair from home, staring blankly at a television that had the volume muted. The room was spacious, at least—a hospital bed lodged in the corner and a small round table for meals.

Liv’s heart sank at the sight of him. He was too thin, the skin on his neck loose, his hands bony around the arms of the chair.

“Hi, Dad,” Cindy said in a loud voice.

Their father didn’t turn his head.

Cindy stepped in front of the television and crouched at eye level. “I have a surprise for you.” She stretched out her arm for Liv to come within their father’s field of vision.

Liv walked over. Tommy stayed by the door, a puzzled look on his face.

“Hi, Daddy,” Liv said.

Her father’s eyes lifted to Liv’s face. Then his own face brightened.

“Olive Oyl?”

Liv broke into a smile. He’d called her that since she was a little girl. They’d watched Popeye cartoons together, and he’d show her his tattoo and flex his biceps and laugh like the sailor. Though he hid it from the outside world, he was a tender man, her father.

She knelt down and put her hand on his, trying not to tear up.

Tommy strolled over to his mother. “Hi, Grandpa.”

“Danny boy!” her father said.

“I’m Tommy,” he said, offended.

His grandfather appeared confused.

“How about we give your mommy some time to catch up with Grandpa?” Cindy said, taking Tommy by the hand. He hesitated until Cindy added, “Was that a puppy I heard barking?”