Eventually, Daisy's anxious facade of
carelessness became intolerable. She obviously wrote to me for a
reason, and I travelled all this way for one as well. One afternoon,
I
had every intention of bringing up Gatsby. I couldn't decide the
perfect way to integrate him in the conversation, but Tom did.
"It's really a shame about what happened
to
Wilson. I'll never forget the look in his eye when I told him Gatsby
was the one in the car."
"What made you bring him up?" Daisy stuttered.
"I don't really know. Nick's visit reminded me of him, I guess. You were his neighbor, right?"
I nodded. It was on the tip of my
tongue. The words to reveal what truly happened that night. It had been
building up inside me for days now and I had the perfect opportunity to
tell him. I just had to spit it out.
"Don't feel guilty!" Daisy cried.
Tom sighed. "I know it wasn't REALLY my fault... I just feel bad, is all..."
He hadn't heard her at first. Or maybe
he had but wished he hadn't. Either way, after asking her to repeat the
words he hoped she hadn't uttered, Tom stood up and walked inside.
Daisy ran after him and I took a sip of my
drink, waiting for the
trouble to start.
