Praying over dessert? This was a first for Pop.
“Of course.” Mama covered our hands with her own.
As she prayed and gave thanks for what they were about to eat and asked for blessings on our family tonight, I prayed a silent prayer of my own. I asked that this season wouldn’t end in another broken heart for her.
When we finished praying and Pop began to eat his pie, I watched Mama flit from the table to the kitchen for coffee, more iced tea, and a thousand other little things she thought of that neither Pop nor I had requested.
“How long can you stay, angel?” she asked me.
“Until I heal, I guess. They won’t let me work until the doctor clears me.”
“Whoever would’ve thought you’d jump out of airplanes into fires for a living? Doesn’t that just scare you to death, Roy?”
Pop set down his fork and crossed his arms on the table. “Tell me why you decided to do that. Who in their right mind would do a thing like that?”
“I always wanted to be a firefighter, since I was a little kid.”
“I thought you wanted to play for the NFL.”
I laughed. “That was your dream, not mine.”
“Roy, you remember how he used to wear that fireman costume when he was in preschool? I could barely get it off of him.”
I could see that my father didn’t remember that at all. The truth was he’d never been home to see it. He’d worked all day and gone to the bar every night.
“I remember that backward baseball cap you always wore.”
“That was Drew.”
I should have provided him a graceful exit out of this conversation, but it was too late. I could see Pop stiffening defensively. “So . . . what you’re saying is you basically came out of the womb as a firebug.”
I glanced at my mother and saw her discomfort. I tried to chuckle it away. “Not a firebug, Pop. It’s not like I went around starting fires.”
“Just the church, huh?”
There it was. I swallowed hard, but I didn’t speak. Silence fell over the room.
After a moment, my mother spoke up. “Roy, that wasn’t Nate.”
“Then why’d you run?” Pop asked, pinning me with his hard eyes.
I told myself not to let my voice rise. My mother needed me to stay calm. “I didn’t run. I left. I started my career. I didn’t think it would be a fair fight if I stayed.”
“What I know is that I taught my boys to face their problems, not to run from them. You didn’t see me running, even after I was falsely accused. I stuck around and took the heat. Fourteen years’ worth.”
I saw the tears in Mama’s eyes as she said, “It was a long time ago, Roy. Let’s not point fingers, okay? We all have to support each other. You’re both innocent. The police never even questioned Nate about that fire.”
Pop didn’t follow her lead. “Support each other, huh? I never saw his face the last fourteen years.”
Now I was angry. “Because you told me you didn’t want me to come.” Tired of this, I slid back my chair. “I’m just gonna go on back to Drew’s place.”
Mama jumped to her feet as I got up. “Honey, please. Your father didn’t mean any of that, did you, Roy?”
Pop just shoved more pie into his mouth.
“Sit down, son,” Mama insisted.
“If he wants to go, let him go,” Pop snapped. “You can’t force a thirty-year-old man to eat if he doesn’t want to.”
I got up. “I’ll be back tomorrow, Mama.”
She followed me out to the truck, apologizing all the way. “Honey, it’s like he’s two people right now, and he can’t decide which one he wants to be. The humble, sweet man he turned into in prison, or the one he used to be. Just be patient with him.”
“I will. I just . . . don’t want to be patient tonight.”
She looked down at my bandaged arm again. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Yes. It’s not the first time. I heal fast.”
I kissed her good night, then drove back to the part of town where Drew lived across from Brenna. On the way, I drove past the church where an old acquaintance, Bo Levin, now preached—the church that stood on the property where the old Baptist church had stood before it burned down. If it hadn’t been for that event, I might have left Carlisle with a little pride, a few friends, a reason to come back home every now and then. But as it was, I saw the writing on the wall and heard the rumors that someone claimed to have seen me setting the fire, and I didn’t think a soul in town, except for my mother and brother, would believe in my innocence.
Maybe I should’ve tried to clear my name so people wouldn’t think of me as a vengeful arsonist irreverent enough to burn down the house of God.
I turned onto Drew’s street and glanced at Brenna’s house as I pulled into Drew’s driveway. Her light was off. I hoped she was sleeping well.
I limped into Drew’s house, flicked on the lights, and dropped onto his twin-size guest bed in a tiny extra bedroom. I’d unpack tomorrow.
Chapter 6
Brenna
Despite my resolve to put Nate’s visit out of my mind, I couldn’t make my heart fall into line. But what was wrong with me? After all I’d been through in the last year, I should have been able to banish that feeling. Love never ended well. It was traitorous and brutal, and it left you empty and alone.
Nothing about it was fair.
Even though Jack had been the one to have the affair and finally the one to leave me and the kids, he’d also been the one with all the money and the big-shot father and the friends who were lawyers and judges. In fact, as president of Hertzog Industries, Jack had employed the son of the judge on their case, played golf with him, and seen to it that his grandson was given the company’s scholarship to the college of his choice.
All those things might be enough for the judge to find Jack a more fit and loving parent to our kids, and now that he was suing me for full custody, I had no faith in the system to protect me. All I had on my side were years of fidelity and love and patience, and total devotion to the two beautiful children who were my life.
The rage that kept me awake nights merged with the fear in my heart over the approaching custody battle. What lies would broadside me this time?
I padded across the floor and turned off the television, casting the house in total silence.
The phone rang, and I jumped. I picked it up. “Hi, Mom.”
“Are you okay?” my mother asked. “Are you as upset as I am?”
I frowned, trying to get my bearings. “About what?”
“Roy Beckett being home! I can’t sleep. It’s all I can think about.”
“Of course. I’m sorry. I was thinking you were talking about Jack having the kids.”
“Have you found out anything about Roy? Has he been drinking? Going out?”
“No. But I saw Nate a little while ago.”
“You did? Where?”
I floundered. I couldn’t tell her he was staying with his brother across the street. She’d call the police in no time. I crafted a quick lie. “Uh . . . he stopped by Walgreens on his way to his mother’s. I was buying milk.”