The Return of Jonah Gray Read Online Free PDF Page B

of a childhood dream. Most people probably do. And the fact that I had never followed through on my plan wasn’t a daily hang-up. I had a nice house in an appreciating neighborhood in Oakland, a secure government job, friends and family nearby. It was a fine life to be leading—even if it wasn’t the one I’d imagined, back when I was saving for my own Catalina. Of course I wondered whether things would have turned out differently if I’d bought one, but how can you know that? How can you know where a few random turns might take you? A few random turns might have changed everything. But I hadn’t taken a turn off my straightaway for a while by then.
    â€œI should go,” I told my mother. Thinking of the Catalina always made me moody.
    â€œWe’ll see you Saturday then?”
    â€œSaturday?” I asked. “Oh, yeah. Of course.”
    â€œYou forgot Saturday?”
    â€œNo, I remember.”
    â€œIt’s only our thirty-fifth anniversary. It would be nice to have our children present.”
    â€œI said I remembered. I’ll be there.”
    â€œCome early if you want. You should spend more time with your father,” she said.
    â€œHe could spend more time with me,” I pointed out.
    â€œDon’t be like that. Not after what he’s been through.”
    I sank a little. She was right. My father had spent the first part of the year battling an aggressive form of lymphoma. Now, in August, he was officially in remission. I had a hunch that my father’s illness had a lot to do with my own malaise. The timing didn’t feel like a coincidence, but I hadn’t wanted to think too hard about it. I just wanted my focus back.
    â€œWhat about your brother?” my mother asked. “Do you know if he’s coming? I haven’t been able to reach him.”
    â€œKurt?”
    â€œWell, I can track down Blake easily enough. By the way, don’t forget to congratulate him when you see him next. He’s over the moon about making drum major. I don’t know if Kurt even knows about that yet.”
    â€œI think he’s been focused on the move and the new job.”
    â€œSo focused he couldn’t manage an RSVP to his parents’ party? Martina managed an RSVP. What sort of children have I raised?”
    â€œSpeaking of Martina, I really have to go. I’m meeting her in an hour.” It was true, but it was also a good excuse.
    â€œHow is that lovely girl?” Predictably, my mother softened. Martina wore skirts and dresses. Martina got manicures and waxed her brows. Martina followed fashion trends and kept old copies of Vogue and Glamour around for reference. Depending on her mood, my mother referred to my look as “messy,” “tomboy,” or “oblivious.” She was always happy to hear that Martina and I were still friends.
    â€œMartina knows that you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar,” my mother was always reminding me. Maybe that was true, but who wanted to spend her life with a collection of flies?

Chapter Four
    ON FRIDAY MORNING, I MET WITH MY SUPERVISOR , Fred Collins, to discuss the phone calls I’d continued to receive. By then, there had been six. Three livid, two indignant and one whiny. All referring to the poor man I’d wronged. All refusing to provide additional details—except to note that he was a much better person than I was.
    â€œSo you’re looking for your better half,” Fred said, smiling.
    â€œIt’s not funny,” I protested.
    Fred seemed as flummoxed as I, though he took pains to assure me that the calls wouldn’t be recorded as complaints in my employee file. “And none of them have made reference to a name or a town? Maybe an address?” he asked.
    â€œNone. Believe me, I’ve tried to ask. They always end up hanging up on me.”
    â€œSo how can you be sure they’re calling about the same taxpayer?”
    I thought