The Bridge by Rebecca Rogers Maher Read Free Book Online Page B

to him. That he’s not here to see…this. Me. And the rest of the family business, doing all the things we do that he despises.”
    “What’s the family business?”
    “Finance. Investing. He thinks we shouldn’t work with certain companies. Whose moral decisions he disagrees with.”
    “And what do you think?” I turn my head to face him, but he keeps staring at the sky. A hundred yards beyond, an ancient rock wall separates us from a cliff drop to the river.
    “I get paid a lot of money to not think about it at all.”
    “Yeah?” I smile at him. “How’s that working out for you?”
    He chuckles. “Pretty bad.”
    “So you don’t like your job.”
    “Like I said, I like the numbers. I have to force myself to not pay attention to the politics, or I’d get stuck. It’s the same reason I shouldn’t watch the news, although of course I break down and do anyway. It’s just…too much evidence of how heartless people can be. How doomed we are.”
    “You ever think about trying to make your work more meaningful? Maybe invest in companies you believe in, like in developing countries? Or companies that deal with environmental sustainability or fair labor or something like that?”
    It occurs to me that this might be the way to shift his focus. Maybe he won’t be able to save me, but he could see himself as someone with the power to do good in this world. It’s worth a shot, anyway.
    “I’ve tried over the years,” he says. “Maybe not as much as I could have.”
    “Maybe it would help you. To feel better, I mean. Less alone.”
    “Christa—”
    “Okay.” I can see he’s uncomfortable with the direction this conversation is taking, and I don’t want to push him—at least not yet. “I’ll change the subject. Tell me about your parents.”
    “Now you’re the one who’s full of questions.”
    I watch the sky. A huge blackbird swings across it, cawing, and lands in a tree. “Got to pass the time somehow.”
    “They’re fine. Normal people. Busy. Involved in a lot of charitable organizations. Physically fit. Lovers of fine art. That sort of thing.”
    “They sound like a blast.”
    He blows through his teeth. “Yeah. Laugh a minute.”
    “And you have one brother? No other siblings?”
    “Actually…” He turns toward me on the grass, leaning on his elbow. “I have another brother. A half-brother. My mother was married before she met my dad. Had a son. But she left them. Met my dad on Cape Cod one summer and ran off with him and they’ve been together since.”
    “Do you know him? Your half-brother?”
    He shakes his head. “I’ve tried. He won’t answer my letters. I guess she didn’t leave on good terms. He was only a baby at the time.”
    “Shit.” I’m no mother, but I can’t imagine doing a thing like that.
    “Yeah. You know, I found out when I was pretty young. Like seven or eight? And after that I always wondered, if I made her mad, would she leave us, too? She didn’t though. She got what she wanted, I think, with my father.”
    “Which was?”
    “Money.”
    I wince a little at that. “Yikes. She had you and your brother though, too.”
    “Yeah, I don’t think she cared too much about that.”
    “That can’t be true.”
    He sighs and rolls onto his back. “You’re probably right. But she didn’t spend much time with us. Just enough to make sure we were doing well in school and learning to play the piano and things like that.”
    I try to imagine growing up without a mother. Of course I don’t have to stretch my imagination too far since my own mom was barely around. But at least I never doubted that she loved me.
    “When did you start…you know. Feeling depressed?”
    He shrugs against the grass. “High school. Maybe middle school. They sent me to a lot of shrinks then.”
    “And your first suicide attempt, it was…”
    “College. I slit my wrists.”
    I sit up. “Seriously?”
    He shades his eyes against the sun to see me. “Yeah. Why, is that any