The Last Stand of Haviland Dinwiddie

Chapter 18

By Dabeagle

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After changing, we went out to join my mom. Hav showed up shortly thereafter and thanked my mom for inviting him in.

“Oh, nonsense, we owe you so much,” she said with a nervous smile. “I know Harvey enjoys the job, and I think Rigby does too.”

“Enjoy might be strong,” Rigby said with a big grin.

“Clearly I'm not working them hard enough,” Hav grumbled. “Sorry about having to bump you down here. I like the light in that apartment, but I put these cheap tiles down, you see.”

“I hadn't noticed,” my mom replied, cutting him a piece of the semita and serving him. “Why did you use them if they're so bad?” She covered her mouth, and her eyes went wide. “Oh, I'm so sorry. That was rude!”

He chuckled. “Not hardly. I didn't know they were so terrible when I got them. Big difference between cheap as a price and cheap as material. I picked them up, figured out what junk they were too late to send them back.” He shrugged. “So rather than throw them out, I put them in the apartments, because if they get damaged – who cares?”

“Oh. Well that makes a lot of sense,” my mother agreed, sitting down with her own cup.

“Well, the good news is I think this last water issue will use up the last of the tiles. Maybe next time I'll get the stick on kind,” he said with a grin. He glanced at Rigby and pointed with his fork. “That's some sparkly thing around your neck.”

Rigby smiled big. “E got it for me for Christmas.”

Hav shook his head and looked at my mom. “Do you ever have moments where you realize the world has passed you by?”

“All the time,” she said with a laugh.

Hav looked back at Rigby. “In my day, a boy would get his ass whupped twice for wearing something like that.”

“Baseball players wear them,” I said. “I read they're cheap for someone that makes so much and flashy, so they like them. If they get broken when they play, it's not like they spent a whole lot. You know, relatively speaking.”

“Huh. Well, Scalawag, you going to play baseball?” Hav teased.

“I could, but you know...don't want to make people feel bad,” Rigby said smugly.

“Yeah. Well, thank you for the treat and the coffee. I'm just going to toddle off home; you all have a good holiday.”

We said our goodbyes, got our coats and headed down to the car. We made a pit stop so Rigby could bring a gift to Ezra, and then we were off again. Dinner was nice, and Tony showed up in the early evening, much as he had on Thanksgiving.

“So hey. Has your uncle seen the light?” I asked.

“Sure. From the hole in his retirement account,” he said, shaking his head.

“Still rapping on about tariffs?” Rigby asked.

“Actually, no. I found out he – honest to goodness – thought that if something from China costs a hundred bucks, and then there's a thirty percent tariff, he'd only pay seventy bucks.”

I stared at him. “You're not serious. I mean, I understand the whole thing after you explained it, but if he owns a business, shouldn't he?”

“Bruh,” Tony said, shaking his head and laughing. “But he still doesn't regret his vote.”

Daphne wanted to do a holiday movie sleepover, but we hadn't brought anything to sleep in, so we decided to do it for New Year's instead. The semita alta was a hit, mixing it up with the other dessert items.

“Rig. What is that you're wearing?” Daphne asked.

Rigby preened. “You like it? E bought it for me. Says it's got all the colors in my eyes.”

Daphne laughed a little. “Harvey, you've got it bad.”

“You don't buy me jewelry,” Tony said, looking at his hands.

“Nope. But I did buy you that sword.”

“Bruh!” he said, looking between Rigby and me. “She totally did. Only it's not a sword; it's a light saber, and it makes the sound.”

“It does? Where?” Rigby asked. And that's how we ended up in the backyard, swinging the light saber around to hear the noise it made, because Daphne's mother firmly said 'not in the house'. We didn't stay late; I was sore and just wanted to relax. Back home we could smell the sealant faintly in the hallway, but thankfully not in the apartment. I took some more ibuprofen and lay down with my full belly. Rigby was out in the kitchen with my mom talking, and I closed my eyes.

There was a part of me that was still struggling with the fight, the death coming back to me in unexpected moments. Something would trigger me, and I'd see the hammer in his head and feel the horror all over again. Sometimes I could feel the way the hammer had felt as it struck his skull. The sound he'd made, reaching for the handle and his body failing him. I had a heavy feeling that it wasn't over. Of course, it wasn't – there was still the visit from the authorities that Hav predicted, not to mention the horrors in my head. It left me feeling vaguely nauseous and unable to rest. Later Rigby wandered in, closed the door and lay down beside me, his head propped on his hand.

“You okay?”

I shook my head. “Not yet.”

He reached out and tangled our fingers together. “I was thinking. What if we came out?”

I shifted my gaze to him without moving my head. “But you're not gay.”

“I have a boyfriend,” he pointed out.

“Once people know...you can't go back.”

He chuckled and sat up. “Go back to what? Nah, Babe. I'm all in.” He shifted a little. “You know what? I've been doing some heavy thinking. After you finally got to sleep last night, I was up for a while. I was looking at you, and I was thinking...nobody will ever love me more than you do.” He waved his free hand. “No one. No one will ever protect me like you did.”

“You don't know that. There are literally billions of people.”

“Right, but this is about what I can prove. I've never been ashamed of who I was dating until after we broke up, so-”

I started laughing at him.

“What?” he asked, grinning at me.

“You think you're going to be ashamed you dated me?”

He got a cocky look on his face. “If you ever break up with me, I think you'll be the only person I will ever not be ashamed I dated.”

I giggled a little.

“What now? That wasn't even funny. That was from the heart.” He emphasized the last word with a poke near my heart, and I grunted. “Sorry, thought that hurt a bit lower than that.”

I turned my head to look at him more easily.

“Anyway. We've gone through some shit and come out on the other side. I know this...this isn't your average relationship shit. But it's also not murder. It was self defense, and he was going to kill me. I saw something in his face...I hope I never see something that cold again. I've never been more scared...and then you stopped him.”

“I killed him,” I said quietly.

“But it wasn't wrong,” he said firmly. “I know it hurts. It hurts because you're good, E. You're so good. If what we went through happened and you just shrugged it off? That would be fucking shady.” He closed his free hand over mine, sandwiching my hand between his. “After what we've been through together, I think we can handle being us. I'm proud to have you as my boyfriend.”

I was feeling overwhelmed and needed to push back on all the emotional discussions we'd been having. “You're so hot. The coven will be all over me for cracking you.”

His eyes went wide. “Cracking me? Seems like we have some talking to do.”

I smiled and started laughing at him. He was making amusing demands about why I thought I'd be doing the cracking, and it was just too funny. What wasn't funny was it was making my sore ribs worse, but somehow even that was kind of funny.

Much later that evening, as he slept with his back pressed to my side, I wondered what it would feel like to be out. Did I have what it took to withstand just how mean people can be? It's not the same thing as getting your ass beat. I wasn't sure.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

Our break passed uneventfully. Sandy put me on register duty until I wasn't letting out little gasps when I went to take a piss – she claimed Hav said that, but knowing her, I'm not so sure. We took Ezra out again to play a couple of times and pulled a bit of babysitting detail. New Year's Eve found us at Daphne's with her holiday movie fest, and I rang in the new year with a kiss from my boyfriend. Rigby continued to ask me to think about coming out, and the night before we went back to school I asked him what he had in mind.

“I figured we should be slick about it. Just like, maybe a picture of us in front of the falls. Something to post to IG without any explanation.”

I stared at him. “That'd just make people guess.”

“Well, it's going to be weird for some people, so you know...slow roll it.” He twirled a finger. “Let it build on its own, then it pops and it's over, so people can talk about something else.”

I frowned. “I don't know. Seems like it'd be better just to get it over with, if we do it at all.”

“Well, how about I stand behind you and hug you so our faces are both facing to the camera, and I can put something romantic in it and tag you?”

I sighed. “I don't know. Do we have to do something right now?”

He shook his head. “Nope. I do kind of think it would help, though.”

“How?”

“For you. I want you to get some confidence that I'm here for you. That-”

“No, no,” I said shaking my head. “I have confidence in you.”

“Sure,” he said, ducking his head and coming a bit closer. “But...I'm willing to come out for you.”

I smiled at him. “Come out as what? Gay? Bi?”

“Yours. Don't care about the rest right now.” He shrugged. “I have time to think about it if it matters.”

I thought about that for a minute. It wasn't that I didn't want to be out, and maybe in a way ripping off the Band-Aid was the way to go. I was still up and down about the events with my father, alternating between almost forgetting about it and then imagining the sound of the hammer as it sank into his skull. In fact I hadn't heard anything, but my imagination could be a real motherfucker when it wanted to.

“I'll tell you what,” I said as I thought. “What if...we already know someone is going to come looking. This stuff isn't over. It's going to be a lot. Why don't we...just be us for now? If it gets out, it gets out? Take pictures, but maybe have them be private for now?”

He eyed me for a moment. “But you're confident in me. Us. Right?”

I nodded. “Yeah. You don't have to be gay or bi – just mine.”

That seemed to satisfy him, and oddly, I did feel better. I think there was some small doubt in my mind that Rigby could go from who he'd been to someone that would be romantically involved with me. Despite the kissing, despite the gifts, I think there was always a little thread of doubt on my part. Maybe it was an unlikely thing to have happen, but Rigby wasn't your average guy. Maybe...I wasn't either.

The first week back to school was business as usual, but I was tense as I waited for someone to show up looking for my father. As it happened, the following week was an absolute cluster fuck. It started on Tuesday. There had been a fire the night before, but we didn't hear about it right away. When we did...I couldn't speak.

We'd just gotten to work, and Daphne was crying. Sandy was patting her back, and Rigby and I were both wondering what in the world had happened.

“It's Hav,” Sandy said, her scratchy voice breaking. “He...his house burned down last night. They...they found a b-body inside.”

All I could do was stare, unable to process her words.

Rigby spoke up. “Hav's...gone?”

Sandy sniffled and nodded, bringing a tissue up to her nose for a moment. “I don't know much. I talked to the fire department this afternoon, and they said it looked like there was a leak in the fuel oil line inside the basement. He said when the fire broke out down there, the smoke probably came up through the vents. Hav...oh.” She wrapped her arms around herself, and Daphne hugged her. Sandy patted Daphne's back, and they stood like that for a minute.

When they broke the embrace, Sandy continued. “He'd been sitting in his chair. They think he fell asleep, and the smoke overwhelmed him before he could get up.” She sniffled. “He was probably drinking his bourbon again.” She looked up and blinked back tears and looked back to us. “They said it took them a while to find him. The whole place went up, and the second floor collapsed. It's just awful.”

We went about our jobs that evening with a lost step for sure. That night Rigby cried in my arms. I tried to keep my composure as much as I could to support him, but I wasn't exactly dry-eyed. When we got home from school on Wednesday, a state police car was parked in front of the store, and my first thought was that they were talking to Sandy about Hav, though I couldn't think why that would be. I can't say exactly why, but I made the excuse to Rigby that I wanted to check my schedule and see if there was any news. Rigby, of course, came with me.

In the store I didn't see the trooper until I got close to the counter. I could see him seated in the office area. Sandy was coming out of the office area, probably due to the little bell over the door tinkling.

“Oh, Harvey, good,” she said. “I was going to walk the trooper up to your apartment. Your mom wasn't answering her phone, and he had some questions.”

The trooper walked out of the office, and I ignored him, looking at Sandy. “She works from home, so if she was on a call, she probably couldn't pick up her phone,” I told her.

Rigby snickered, reading the trooper's name tag. “Trooper Hooper.”

“Yeah. I often wonder if I'm a glutton for punishment or if I should have joined the Sheriff's department instead. The truth? The state has better dental,” the trooper said with a smile. “Harvey Emerson?”

“Rigby Chandler,” Rig replied. “This is Harvey, but it's Diaz.”

I felt oddly good at Rigby correcting the trooper about my name.

The trooper nodded. “Harvey, do you think you can take me up to meet with your mom? I have a few questions to follow up on.”

“Um. My mom really has trouble with men. Can I bring her down here?”

The trooper nodded. “Sure. But as a warning, I'll need to have a look at the apartment. Your father is missing.”

The spike of fear through my core was very real, as if he were hunting us from the grave. “I thought he had an ankle monitor? Our lawyer said we'd be safe here!”

In an even tone the trooper replied, “He did have a monitor. If you wouldn't mind getting your mom, I'm sure I can fill in some blanks, and maybe you can help me out as well.”

I glanced at Sandy and then Rigby before nodding and headed up to the apartment. My mom was in fact on a support call, and I sat patiently while she finished.

“Mom, don't take the next call,” I told her.

“Why? What's wrong?”

“There' s a cop down in the store that wants to ask us questions. I guess...he's missing.”

Some color left her face. “How long?”

“I don't know. He wants to ask us questions and then probably see the apartment, make sure we don't have him duct-taped at the wrists and ankles in a closet.”

She pursed her lips. “I just wish he was out of our lives. Okay. Okay. Let's go down there. Stay with me, Harvey.”

“I will, Mom.”

We went down to the store and back into the office area. The trooper sat down and took out his notebook. “Ma'am, I have you listed as Mrs. Concepción Emerson, but I gather you'd prefer Diaz.”

“Yes,” she said quietly.

“Okay, makes sense. I'm sure your son mentioned, I'm here because your husband has come up missing.”

“Yes – how? He was supposed to have an ankle monitor. Are we in danger? Are you here to warn us?”

“No, ma'am,” he said, rolling the chair back a little and giving my mom some room. “As I mentioned to Harvey, I'd be glad to fill in some blanks. Your husband petitioned the court to have his monitor removed, and his reasons where that he was already monitored as a police officer and that he had no knowledge of your whereabouts to break the order of protection. The judge did grant that about two weeks ago.”

My mother gasped. “Two weeks? No one thought to warn us?” She looked at me. “Maybe we should leave? What if he finds us?”

“Ma'am,” the trooper said calmly. “Your husband didn't report to work last week. It's taken us to this point to locate you with our resources; your location is under seal, and it took a judge's order to get that far. I don't know how your husband would locate you, but I have to ask – have you seen your husband, or has he attempted to make contact with you?”

She reached up and took my hand; hers was trembling. “No. We haven't seen him. I don't think we would be here talking to you if we had.”

His gaze turned to me. “Harvey, has your father called? It wouldn't be uncommon in these situations for the parent to reach out to a child.”

I shook my head. “We left our phones and got pay-as-you-go ones. He hasn't called or texted or anything. I don't think he knows how to use IG or anything like that.”

“IG?”

“Instagram. It's for-”

“Pictures, I know,” he said with a tight smile. “My daughter – well, let's just say I'm aware. It has a chat feature?”

I nodded. “Don't tell your daughter I told you.”

He snorted. “Your secret's safe.” He looked back to my mother. “May I see your apartment? Just to cross my Ts and dot my Is that he's not here?”

“My son can take you,” my mom said. “I mean no disrespect, but I don't want to be in a small space like that with a man.”

“Completely understandable. No offense taken, Mrs. Diaz.”

I led him up, and Rigby came with us. Once in the apartment I led the trooper into each room and opened closet doors and stuff. He looked around, checking any space that, I assume, could have held a body. When he was satisfied for the purposes of his investigation, we stepped back into the hallway.

“That's a weird smell,” the trooper commented.

“Yeah, it's a sealant,” I replied. “Hav...Haviland Dinwiddie, he owns...owned the store downstairs. He, uh, was sealing wood in the back apartment.”

“Owned? Past tense?”

I nodded slowly. “Yeah. Um. He died yesterday. He was...a great guy. I can't believe he's gone.”

“I'm sorry for your loss. What happened, if you don't mind my asking?”

“House fire,” Rigby replied. “Sandy, the bookkeeper, she spoke to the fire department. They said there was a heating oil leak in his basement, and when it sparked up, he was – probably – sleeping in his easy chair. Sandy said he'd probably been drinking. He...I guess they don't think he woke up.”

The trooper nodded grimly. “Sometimes that happens with folks that drink too much. They fall into a heavy sleep, sometimes with a lit cigarette. There are some newer materials that won't spark up if they drop a cig like that, but...it can end badly. Smoke inhalation gets people before actual flames do.”

“Are we going to be able to stay here? Will the store close?” Rigby asked me.

“I don't know,” I replied, shaking my head.

We went back downstairs, and the trooper gave us his card and said to call if we had any questions or if we heard or saw anything related to my father. He said a copy of his report would be available through the courts in about forty-eight hours and that we could obtain copies through our lawyer. He headed out, and we walked my mother back upstairs. She was trembling, and once the door was closed she started to speak, like she'd been barely keeping it in.

“Harvey, we should leave. Who knows where he is? What do we do if he shows up? Oh, my God, Harvey.”

“Mom, Mom, hang on,” I said, trying to calm her. “Look. Yes, he's missing, but you heard the cop – it wasn't simple for him to find us, so it's not exactly available to him either. Right?”

“If we can believe him!” she said, sounding scared. She paced for a moment with her hand on her forehead. “I just...what do we do? What do we do.”

Rigby caught my eye and made a motion I interpreted as him urging me to tell my mother he was dead, but I shook my head. Turning back to my mom I said, “Okay, let's take a deep breath, Mom. First thing, I think the cop was telling the truth, because if it was easy for him to find us, he would have. The cop said he'd been missing for over a week – don't you think this would be the first place he'd go if he knew where we were?”

She looked at me with concern and took a deep breath. “Well. Maybe he was waiting to see if the police showed up, first.”

“But then he'd leave a trail, right? Credit cards? He wouldn't know how long he'd have to wait. Plus, if something happened to us now, they'd know he was here. He'd be on their list to find.”

“Maybe. I don't trust those people,” she said, sitting down. I took the other chair at our little table set.

“Also, if he can't find us, you know what the worst thing to do is? Move around so he might see us.”

“I don't know.”

I glanced at Rigby, who moved over behind me and put a hand on my shoulder. Looking back to my mom, I said, “I think we're safe here. He's never going to find us. In fact...I'll bet he realized how bad he'd screwed up, and the coward ran away.”

Her brows drew down a bit, and she slowly turned toward me. “Ran away?”

“Sure,” I replied, warming to the lie. “Think about it. His lawyer tells him he's going to lose this. He's going to lose his badge, he's going to have a divorce and lose half his assets, and everyone will know what he is. That we beat him. Instead of facing up to any of that, he ran away. Maybe he got someone to make him an ID, but the last place he wants to be is here, where he failed.”

I could see the wheels turning in her head, and while I hated the lie, I wanted her to have peace. I wanted to stay with Rigby. I wanted us to start to heal and leave him behind us. I almost told her the truth, but I didn't want her to know I was capable of something like that.

“Maybe...you're right,” she said eventually.

“I know I am, Mom,” I said firmly. “We're safe.”

She smiled, just a little one. “Well. I have two strong boys here to protect me, don't I?”

“Well, one and a half,” Rigby said. “E needs to get some gains.”

I looked up at him, and he grinned insolently.

“Well. I should get back to work. Maybe we'll have to move soon anyway, with this terrible news about Haviland,” my mother said quietly. “He was a good man.”

My mom went back to the couch, put her headset on and picked up her laptop.

“I want a coffee,” Rigby said and pulled on my arm. I went and kissed my mom's cheek and left with him. The coffee place wasn't that far away, so we just walked in the cold.

“I can't believe Hav's gone,” he said quietly. “He was like, the cool grandpa or something. I never knew any of my grandparents. Did you?”

I shook my head. “No. I can't imagine how bad they must have been on my father's side for him to be what he was. Or maybe he was just bad. Or some of both.” I thought about what Hav had said about people and nature versus nurture. “Hav was a smart guy.”

“He was, but he was also fucking scary. I would never have crossed him, not that I wanted to.”

“He was talking about Brock trying to get you to steal for him. Why didn't you?”

He shrugged and held the door open for me. We went in and placed our orders, then went to find comfortable chairs. Taking a seat, Rigby leaned forward. “First, you gotta understand, Brock and me? We weren't the closest. He hit me some, like a bully older brother does – nothing like you went through. There just wasn't any real close relationship, like brothers might have. He was heavy into sports, and I wasn't. I like to play; I just don't care who wins.”

I listened, enjoying hearing more about the events that shaped my boyfriend.

“Brock always had this streak in him, though, of wanting just a little more. It's like he thought it was owed to him, and so he'd just take things. Sometimes he'd have to fight about it, and he won some, lost some. He was big enough that I don't think you went into it thinking it was going to be an easy fight.”

They called our names for the drinks, so we ran up to get them and resettled ourselves.

“So what I'm hearing is, it sounds like a bad idea to cross Brock. Not death, but dangerous,” I said.

“Yes and no,” he said. “He had a short attention span. When he came to me about stealing from Hav, he said he could probably sell stuff and he'd cut me in. I didn't want to do it – I liked having the job, actually. I liked having my own money, and I figured anything coming from Brock might be a one time thing, and who knows what the consequences would be, right? I mean...he's a fuck up.”

I snorted. “Sounds like a waste.”

He nodded. “Yeah, mostly. Brock would just do stupid things. The only thing he had going for him was some natural skill as an athlete. But...he started spending his fortune from football before he even had a contract, in a way. At least I think that was what was going on in his head. So by the time he came to me, I'm thinking – if Brock is selling anything to anyone, they know it's stolen. In that case, they're not paying him shit for it, and since Brock is a known thief, there's a good chance he's going to get caught somewhere in all that.”

I grunted. “I wonder what Hav would have thought of that whole thought process? He talked to me a few times, and I got the impression he liked to study people. Like, someone like Brock might be pretty straightforward – dumb ass meets reality. But other people are more complex. Like you. Maybe someone would say you wouldn't do what Brock asked because it was wrong, but you had a list of reasons not to besides it being wrong.”

We fell quiet for a minute, drinking our coffees and lost in our own thoughts.

“You know, when Hav was asking me if I ever wondered why I got hired...I was confused. I guess I never thought about my parents' reputations working against me. I should know it, I guess it makes sense after he pointed it out, but it didn't occur to me before. Brock was something different. Teachers would see me coming and think they knew me because of him.”

“What about your sister?”

“What about her?”

“Teachers didn't connect you to her like they did Brock?”

He shook his head. “Different last names. I'm sure some of them figured it out.”

I smiled at him. “Hav liked you a lot, I think.”

He nodded. “You know what? I liked him, too.” He snorted and chuckled. “You know, one time I was scrolling through my phone, and I saw a clip about this guy in the mob in New York City. He killed all these people, shook down store owners and was just what you think of, I guess. But people in his neighborhood? They loved him. Nice guy, they'd say. Always polite. Helped people.” He looked at me. “I think of Hav that way, a little. He was a decent guy, but if you crossed him, then he could be someone else entirely. Like that fire at Dooley's house? Remember?”

I nodded.

“If they all of a sudden said they could prove Hav did that? I wouldn't be that surprised.” He leaned forward. “In fact I heard someone say Dooley took off, maybe moved to Florida. But after...” He let that dangle, and I knew he was talking about my father. “I wouldn't be surprised if Dooley never made it to Florida or anywhere else.”

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