Chapter 26

Wednesday, April 17

Walter nods toward the cup of hot chocolate, which Holly hasn’t touched since he placed it in front of her. “This must be serious, Koala.”

She sighs a laugh. “I’m not thirsty. I just felt like some company.”

“Now that, I can provide,” Walter says from where he sits across the kitchen table.

She fingers the handle of her cup without lifting it. “I keep making things worse, Papa.”

“Worse how?”

Holly tells Walter about the incident where JJ walked in on her while she was vaping DMT, and then says, “Honestly, I don’t know if I could get through this without Aaron’s support. He has been such a stalwart lately.”

“You’re speaking to him again, I assume.”

“Again?” She frowns. “When wasn’t I?”

“Did he mention that he came to see me?”

“No. When?”

“A few days ago. He said he was in the neighborhood.”

She can’t hide her skepticism. “What business would Aaron have in Dana Point?”

“Exactly.” Walter grins. “He came because he couldn’t reach you.”

“Oh.” Holly thinks of the calls and texts that she ignored on the day or two after she slept with him. Indebted as she feels to Aaron, the idea of him airing their domestic issues to her grandfather irks her. “What did you tell him?”

“To take it up with you.”

“It was no big deal. Aaron overreacted. I was just tied up for a couple of days.”

Walter shrugs. “I will give the man this. He cares deeply for you. But for him to think he could enlist my help to influence you by trying to make it about the cause…”

Holly sits up. “What are you talking about?”

“Aaron insinuated that if I helped to mend the communication breakdown between the two of you, somehow that might save the psychedelic movement.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Utterly. But even if it were true, I wouldn’t have raised a finger. Who does he think I am? That I would barter my granddaughter’s feelings like that?”

She stares at him for a helpless moment. “I’m so sorry, Papa. For everything.”

“You’re sorry?” Walter cries. “What the hell, Holly?”

She can’t remember the last time she heard her grandfather raise his voice. “I… don’t understand.”

He holds his trembling palms out to her. “I am the one who gave you that stupid DMT pen.”

“You didn’t tell me to vape it in my office.”

“You wouldn’t have vaped it anywhere if it weren’t for me.”

“Oh, Papa. I just keep screwing up.”

“No, Koala. No.” He drops his hands. His face falls. “This is my fault. I’ve been so shortsighted. And so unfair to you. Loading my tired old hopes and aspirations on your shoulders. I’ve been very selfish.”

Holly leans forward and squeezes his bony elbow. “Hardly. You inspired me. I’m every bit as committed to establishing the value of psychedelic therapy as you are. Maybe more so! After all, psychedelics saved my life in Peru.” She sighs. “And if you’ve been shortsighted, then I’ve been blind.”

Walter says nothing for a few seconds. Finally, he pats the back of her hand and smiles. “Is it possible that I might have passed some of my pigheaded genes along to my favorite granddaughter?”

“Your only granddaughter. And we don’t need a DNA test to know that you did.”

They sit in silence. Walter’s touch is comforting, but his remorse only makes her feel more responsible. “I went to the site of the accident,” she finally says, needing to get it off her chest.

Walter cocks his head. “Which accident?”

“Dad’s.”

He pulls his arm free of her hand. “That was a waste of gas.”

“I wanted to see it.”

Walter shrinks in his seat, withdrawing the way he always does at the mention of his son’s death. “Don’t you have enough on your plate right now?”

“I do. But lately, I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“It’s those hallucinations, isn’t it?” He shakes his head miserably. “The damn DMT again… What a mistake it was to lead you back down that road.”

“The DMT isn’t to blame. Neither are you, Papa. I’ve been avoiding memories of the accident ever since we came back from Peru. When I thought I was healed. But I think the stress of everything that’s been going on keeps pushing that piece of unfinished emotional business to the surface.” Or maybe my guilt about Elaine is forcing me to face my guilt about Dad? “I can’t hide from it any longer. I need to know.”

“What?” Walter grunts. “What is it you think you need to know?”

“It makes no sense. That stretch of freeway is straight as an arrow. And the weather was good that day. What could’ve made Dad crash the car like he did?”

“We’ll never know.”

“The police must have investigated.”

He nods slightly. “They interviewed you. Don’t you remember?”

She shakes her head. “In the hospital?”

“The day after. The doctors kept you in for observation. You were still concussed, but otherwise physically all right.”

“Were you there?”

“Of course.”

Holly’s chest flutters. “What did I tell them?”

He looks away. “That you couldn’t remember anything about the accident.”

“Were there witnesses?”

He shakes his head. “None that came forward. The Good Samaritans who pulled you out of the car arrived after the crash.”

“But the authorities must have blamed it on something?”

“Reckless driving.”

“Dad? I remember him as such a good driver.”

“Not that day,” Walter mutters.

“What are you keeping from me, Papa?”

“You think I haven’t thought about this a million times?” His voice is thick. “Maybe your father had some kind of medical emergency? Maybe he fell asleep at the wheel? Why does it matter? Nothing will bring him back. How does it help to talk about it?” He pauses to swallow, and she sees a trembling in his throat. “Who does it help?”