The Road Home

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The Road Home Page 23

by Susan Crandall


  Clay resisted the urge to follow Lily to town and back. He followed her out the drive and turned in the opposite direction. He needed to keep moving. To think. His mind was filled with contradictions. These past few weeks had made it clear that he wasn’t over her. Although, even after their conversation tonight, he didn’t feel she was justified in marrying Peter so quickly. He couldn’t deny, presented as it was, she must have felt deserted. With court delays and the ever-changing court-appointed attorneys, it had taken over a year for Clay to be acquitted of his “crime.” If he had known it would take so long, would he have asked her to wait while his future was in complete limbo?

  His life had taken a turn. One that led him to capitalize on his anger, his cynicism. Jail had changed him. When he embarked on an army career that led him to deal in the bartering of lies and betrayal on a global basis, he thought he’d found the perfect fit. He deluded himself into thinking he was on the right track for eleven years.

  That delusion ended the day he found the dead boy on the altar steps of the ruins of a church in Eastern Europe. For weeks he’d told himself that the boy’s risk was minimal, was justified by the amount of information he was able to supply. Clay realized, as he stared down at the thin body and empty eyes, that he’d been hiding from the truth. It was simply a lie he’d been telling himself to ease his conscience.

  Filled with self-loathing, he’d buried the orphan in the churchyard. That day, something in him changed. His view of his job shifted. No longer could he justify the evils he himself committed in the name of routing out greater evils.

  After a week of self-punishment, he decided to make a change. He would see if he could salvage at least a scrap of the person he used to be, before those dying embers were extinguished from his soul forever. He decided to go back to Forrester Lake.

  Now that life was long behind him. He needed to sort out his emotions, which had somehow in the last hours become one huge knotted mess. There were so many unanswered questions. He knew why Lily turned to Peter, but not why she’d rushed into marriage. Why had Peter told Lily he wasn’t coming back? There wasn’t a way he could assemble things in his mind that made sense. He was trying to put the past behind him. Could he do it without those answers?

  As he drove the hours of the night away, the realization came that he could not. He was going to find those answers.

  Chapter 15

  “You’re pretty good at this—for a girl,” Riley said as he watched Mickey creep closer to his high game score at Galaga.

  “Yeah, well, watch out, ’cause you’re about to be toast.” She frowned as she concentrated on the arcade game.

  Riley watched her face as she played. She didn’t get frustrated and bored like the girls he knew in Chicago, who, once they figured out they weren’t going to beat him, usually decided it wasn’t any fun and quit. But Mickey never gave up. In the past half hour she’d adjusted her strategy to improve her score. And she was right, she was about to catch him. Maybe persistence wasn’t such a good thing in a girl. He shifted nervously as he watched. Mickey said she’d never played before tonight; he’d been playing this game forever. He now wished he hadn’t admitted that to her.

  The quarter ran out, thank goodness, before she caught up with him.

  “Wanna play again?” he asked. If she stopped now, his top score would be safe. But he didn’t want it to look like he was afraid she’d beat him.

  She looked at her watch. “No, I have to be home by nine.”

  “Too bad, you might actually have beat me,” he said, feeling relieved that she hadn’t and just a little sorry she was leaving. “Is your mom picking you up?”

  Mickey shook her head. “I only live three blocks from here. I walked.”

  The arcade was in an old storefront a block from the courthouse. There were plenty of streetlights outside that reflected the misty drizzle. Her mom was going to make her walk home in the rain?

  He followed her over to the table where she’d left her jacket. Standing with his hands in his pockets, he watched her put it on. There was a little argument going on inside his head. He wanted to walk her home. But he didn’t want the guys hanging out in the arcade to see him do it. Besides, what if she didn’t want him to?

  She pulled her hood up over her hair. “Guess I’ll see you around.” She started for the door.

  “Yeah.” He lifted his chin and kept his hands in his pockets.

  He thought she hesitated just as she was about to open the door, but then she went on out. Watching her through the plate-glass window, he saw her glance at the sky, then lower her head against the breeze.

  Riley’s feet itched. His hands flexed in his pockets. If he was going to do it, it had to be now. She was almost out of sight.

  She disappeared.

  He sprinted for the door and trotted after her. He was so intent on catching up, he didn’t see the ankle-deep puddle until he was in it. Calling her name, he splashed on through.

  Mickey stopped and turned around. “What?”

  Catching up, he said, “My mom said girls shouldn’t walk alone after dark. She’d be mad if I let you go by yourself.”

  “Oh.” She sounded surprised and a little confused. “I’m really okay. I do it all the time.”

  Riley shrugged. “It’s no big deal. Besides, I’m in enough trouble with my mom right now.”

  “Okay.” She started walking again.

  Riley kept his hands out of his pockets as he walked beside her. Occasionally, the back of his hand brushed hers, setting off a weird feeling in his stomach.

  After a bit, Mickey said, “Your mom doesn’t seem the type to get all crazy mad.”

  “What?” As Riley had been concentrating on the strange way Mickey’s glancing touch was making him feel, her comment caught him totally off guard.

  She hesitated as she took two more steps, then said, “Well, it just seems like your mom’s not a… a… yeller.”

  Riley got the distinct impression that Mickey didn’t really want to talk about his mom. “She gets mad enough—I guess she doesn’t actually go batshit or anything.”

  “Has… does she ever hit you?” The words came slowly and so quietly that Riley almost couldn’t hear them.

  “No.” His heart started to beat faster. “Well, I guess when I was a baby, she smacked my hands and stuff. And I do remember getting paddled once when I was four and ran out into the street.”

  Mickey shook her head and looked down at her feet. “I don’t mean like that.”

  A ball of anger started to form in the pit of his stomach. He stopped and put a hand on her arm. “Does your mom hit you?”

  She didn’t look at him, but kept her gaze on her shoes. “No—she yells a lot.” After a pause, she added, “She says some really nasty things.”

  Riley’s jaw tightened. “Like what?”

  Mickey lifted a shoulder and tried to start walking again, but Riley held her still. “Stuff about my dad.” The words came slowly and she kept her gaze on the ground. “Awful stuff. She says she never would have married him if she hadn’t been pregnant with me. And she says…” There was a catch in her voice. “She says they must have given her the wrong baby at the hospital, because she can’t believe she had a daughter as ‘unattractive’ as me.” She rushed on, as if in justification. “But that’s only when she’s really mad. I know she doesn’t mean it.”

  Riley couldn’t imagine hearing such words from his mother. No wonder Mickey seemed to shrink when her mom was around. But worse, he suspected that if Mickey told him this much, there was even more awful stuff she was keeping inside. “What about your dad? Does he hit you?”

  Her chin was tucked to her chest and her hair fell over her face. “Not very often.”

  The answer hung there in the air between them for a long while. Riley worked to breathe it in, to understand. How could anybody hit Mickey? And how could her mother be such a bitch? He wanted to put his fist through something.

  Mickey didn’t elaborate further,
but seemed relieved to have said as much as she did. After a moment, she slipped her hand into his and they walked the rest of the way to her house in silence.

  It was a good thing she’d stopped talking, because Riley couldn’t concentrate on anything other than her small hand in his. It made him feel big—and protective. It also made him nervous. He didn’t look at her as they walked.

  She stopped and dropped his hand at the bottom of the steps to her front porch. “Thanks.” She made fleeting eye contact, then hurried up the steps and into the house.

  Riley watched her with what felt like a hot, heavy rock in the center of his chest. He stood there for a minute, then he turned around and ran back to the arcade. He pushed himself, making his muscles burn and his lungs ache. His feet pounded the wet pavement and with each footfall, he imagined he was stepping on Mickey’s mother’s face. He’d wanted to tell Mickey that her mother was wrong, she wasn’t “unattractive,” but the words had stuck in his throat. Now it was too late. Too late to try and ease the pain he saw in Mickey’s eyes.

  He didn’t feel like going back inside the arcade, but it started to rain hard again and it would be twenty minutes before his mom came to get him. He went in. Earlier he’d thought that after Mickey left, he’d try to strike up a conversation with some of the guys hanging out. Now he didn’t feel like talking.

  Slipping a quarter in the slot, he grabbed the controls of Road Rage. It was a game that suited his mood just fine.

  Riley recognized the kid in a black baseball cap playing the next game over. He and his friend had sat at the table next to him and Mickey earlier in the evening at the pizza place. They both looked to be about sixteen.

  Riley nodded a greeting, but didn’t say more.

  “So,” the boy in the baseball cap said, “you gettin’ any from Blondie?”

  Riley’s hands froze on the game controls. His body flashed hot with a fresh wave of anger, but he held his tongue. The last thing he wanted was to alienate himself from the only guys he’d managed to talk to since he’d come to town. He cast a cool smile their way and said, “Nah. Just met her.”

  The other boy walked closer and nudged Riley in the ribs with his elbow. “I told him he was wrong. You look like the type who goes for hot chicks. Blondie there is about as chilly as you can get.” He laughed and bobbed his head.

  The first boy said, “You say. I say, that’s one sweet piece of ass.”

  Riley let go of the controls and spun on him. “Watch it!”

  “Dude! Relax. I’m no poacher. Besides, I wouldn’t mess with the T-man’s daughter. No way.”

  There was a hidden meaning in the way the guy said “the T-man.” Riley fought to keep his hands to himself and asked, “So, what’s the deal with her dad?”

  A raised-brow look passed between the two boys, as they made fists and knocked knuckles against each other.

  “Whoa! Dude, should we tell him about the T-man?” Baseball Cap asked his buddy.

  “Seems like a guy with your reputation,” the kid put an arm around Riley’s shoulders, “might just have a use for T-man.”

  Riley stood silently waiting, his curiosity about anything and everything pertaining to Mickey’s life outweighing his desire to punch this guy in the nose.

  Baseball Cap stepped close enough for Riley to hear him whisper, “You need anything—T-man can hook you up.” He stepped back and nodded to confirm his statement.

  The kid next to Riley added, “Weed. Pills. You want it, he’s got it.”

  Riley was about to tell these guys to go play with themselves, when he realized the full implication of what they were suggesting. Mickey’s dad was a dealer. The dad who didn’t hit her very often.

  He’d just think about this for a while.

  Forcing a smile, he said, “Good to know.”

  * * *

  Riley was unusually quiet on their way home from the arcade. Lily had to wonder if his night out hadn’t gone well. Of course, when she asked, he said everything was fine. She just hoped “fine” wasn’t the same kind of fine he’d been experiencing of late—the kind with exploding toilets and sinking boats.

  The weather remained miserable. There were few cars on the road, even though it was Saturday night. Lily had to remind herself that Saturday night in Glens Crossing wasn’t like Saturday night in the city. By eleven o’clock the stop-and-go lights switched to blinkers and the only drivers left on the road were those under twenty-five.

  Just after she turned onto Mill Run Road, she noticed another pair of headlights swing around the corner behind her. She hadn’t noticed anyone behind her on the main road. As they traveled, she kept one eye on her rearview mirror. Could Clay have actually been waiting somewhere along the highway for her to return? As much as she’d made a big deal of her independence, the thought that he’d be so concerned about her safety gave her a good deal of comfort.

  The road curved. A fat possum darted out from the weeds, its close-set eyes shining lightning-blue, reflecting the headlights.

  “Look out!” Riley shouted.

  The possum stopped.

  Lily slammed on the brake pedal. The antilock brakes shuddered as the tires worked to grip the wet pavement.

  “Mom!”

  The right front tire bumped over the possum. Lily cringed and her stomach lurched at the thud that resonated through the floorboards. “Oh, God….”

  “Mom! You killed it!”

  “I didn’t mean to!” Every cell in her body was quivering from the adrenaline rush.

  Lily let the car coast along for a second, waiting to stop trembling. She pulled in a deep breath and looked in her rearview mirror to see if the possum was still on the road.

  The other car’s headlights rounded the curve; she saw the red brake lights reflect off the wet pavement. She crept along and got to the far right, leaving enough room for the car to pass on the narrow road.

  It didn’t. It didn’t ride right up on her rear bumper, either. It hung back, matching her decreasing speed. Now that it was closer, she could easily see the headlights were much too low to be Clay’s pickup.

  The possum disappeared from her mind. Now her attention was fastened on the car behind her. She sped up slightly. At first the car behind her hung back, then gradually matched her speed. Clay had seen a car coming out of her driveway in the wee hours. Now she wished she’d asked for a more specific description.

  The turnoff for the lake house was just ahead. Lily quickly decided not to take it.

  “Hey, where are you going?” Riley sat up straighter in his seat and looked out the driver’s side as they passed the entrance to the lane.

  “I forgot I told Gramps we’d stop by on our way home.” Lily wanted to go straight to Clay, to have him make good on that protective attitude he’d been laying on her this evening. But that would require too much in the way of explaining to Riley. That particular can of worms needed to be left unopened and on the shelf at the moment.

  “Man. Can’t you just call him?”

  “We won’t stay long.” Her gaze flicked to the rearview mirror. The headlights paced along behind.

  She didn’t turn on her signal, and she braked at the last minute before she made the right turn onto the road that connected them back to the highway. But the car behind her had enough distance, it didn’t throw him. After a couple of seconds, the headlights turned just behind her.

  Lily’s heart felt like a fluttering moth at the base of her throat. She had to concentrate on the road because it made several serious curves before it ran into the highway. When she looked back in her mirror, the road behind her was dark.

  “What’s wrong?” Riley asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “You keep looking in the mirror and you took that corner like Gramps.”

  Lily managed a chuckle and glanced his way. “Gramps still doesn’t like to brake to turn a corner?”

  Riley grinned and shook his head.

  “Uncle Luke always said he was trying to save his bra
ke pads.” She patted his knee. “Maybe I should reconsider letting you ride with him,” she teased, glad to have diverted his attention.

  At the stop sign at the intersection with the highway, she waited, watching for the headlights to emerge from the last curve. As there was nowhere to pull off the road, let alone turn, she fully expected them to show up.

  “Mom?” Riley sounded concerned.

  “What?” She kept her eyes on the mirror.

  “You can go.” Riley pointed to the darkness on their left.

  “Yeah.” She looked at him and smiled weakly. “I guess that possum still has me shaken up.” She made the right turn that led them back toward town.

  She kept a rearward watch all of the way to the Crossing House. The mysterious headlights didn’t reappear.

  The lot was full, so she had to drive around back to find a spot to park her car.

  “I’ll wait out here,” Riley said, when she turned off the car.

  “No. You come in with me.”

  “Geez, Mom. I’m not a baby. I can sit in the car for five minutes.”

  “Gramps wants to see you.” Lily felt completely justified in the little white lie. She didn’t want to alarm him, but there was no reason to take unnecessary risks.

  Riley cranked up an Olympic-sized sigh and opened his door. They ran to the entrance side by side in the rain.

  “Why don’t you go say hello to Faye?” Lily said as she headed into the bar.

  “I don’t know why I can’t go on the other side of that stupid wall. It’s not like I’m going to order a drink….”

  Lily silenced him with a stern look, but deep inside she agreed; she’d thought the same thing when she was a kid. She watched him head toward the kitchen, then she stepped into the bar.

  “Hey there, Lily!” her dad called. “I thought I told you we didn’t need help.”

  She smiled and slid onto a bar stool. “I just picked Riley up in town and thought we’d stop for some buffalo wings.”

 

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