He clenched his hands tightly around the wine glass. How could doing the right thing and stepping up, taking responsibility for his own child, be viewed as selfish and destructive?
Setting the wine glass on the dock, he got up. “I think you’re wrong.”
He knelt on the dock and untied the bow line, then got in the boat to untie the stern. When he looked up, Lily was standing right beside the boat, looking down at him. Her face was wet with tears and moisture glistened in her eyes. “At least don’t tell him without letting me know first. Please.” The last word was lost in a sob.
Dammit. He hated the pain she’d suffered. Mostly because, in every way, it had been because of him. He reached up and grabbed her hand, pulling her into the boat with him.
He caught her securely in his arms and held her close to his chest. The look in those teary eyes—startled, yet wanting—made his heart trip a little faster.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly.
She shook her head and buried her face against his chest. Her arms went around his middle. His shirt became wet with her tears. He let her have a good cry—something that he’d bet his life she’d been denying herself for fourteen years.
After a few minutes, he felt her become still and her breathing even out. He cupped her face in his hands and made her look at him. His thumbs brushed away the tracks of her tears and he kissed her lightly.
She smiled and said, “I’ve seen a change in Riley—because of you. He respects you. You two are already on your way to building a relationship—I won’t take that away from you. I promise. I—I just ask that we approach this carefully, together.”
He kissed her forehead. “You’re an amazing woman.” He sighed and pulled her close. “He’s my son.” The words made his chest squeeze tight. Would he ever get used to it? “I don’t want to lose you both again. I want to be a part of his life. Whether I do that as ‘Bud’ or his father—I’ll leave up to you. Just don’t lock me out.”
She closed her eyes briefly. “Thank you.”
He pressed another kiss to her forehead and let her go.
She climbed out of the boat and untied the stern line, tossing it inside the boat as he started the motor.
As he pulled away from the dock, she looked so fragile, so young, standing there in her shorts and tank top. If he could recall the past, he’d do it in a minute, save her from the pain, set things right between them, live their lives as they should have been.
How could loving someone cause so much misery?
Chapter 21
Clay kept Riley in his line of sight all morning. The more he studied his son, the less settled he became about a course of action. Their relationship was still rocky, filled with uncertainty and verbal sparring. But it was changing, evolving. Even though Riley had resisted when Clay intervened in the park, the boy had finally calmed down and listened to what he had to say. And that made Clay realize how dangerous talking to teenagers could be—what if you finally got them to listen and then led them in the wrong direction? Or drove them to do something simply to spite you? It seemed especially dangerous with a child as confused as Riley.
This morning Clay had the distinct impression that Riley wanted to talk about something. There had been a couple of moments when he almost opened up, but at the last minute had backed away. Clay acted as if he didn’t notice the subtle signs that said something was going on. It was much easier to catch a squirrel when the squirrel thought you weren’t interested.
As Clay watched the boy work in the shop, it struck him that over the past weeks he’d learned to read Riley’s moods—the finer moods, not the in-your-face attitude he flashed so much those first days.
When it was time to take their lunch break on the dock, the squirrel hopped right up beside Clay and offered a nut.
“What happens when a dad knocks his kid around? Is he arrested?”
This topic took Clay so off guard, he just sat there for a second, chewing his sandwich much longer than necessary while he tried to decipher the reason for this question. Lily had been adamant that Peter never abused Riley.
“Well, I guess that depends on the circumstances—law-wise. Personally, I think anybody who hurts a child should be beaten to a pulp.”
Riley gave an easy grin at that, relieving a bit of Clay’s worry that he was the child in question.
Clay felt like he owed him a better answer, so he went on, “Parental abuse is a sticky subject these days—very serious. A person needs proof to raise such allegations. The child is removed from the home—”
“Sent away? Like foster care?” Riley asked.
Clay nodded. “Most likely. Then there’s an investigation. It’s really hard to prove, because most of the time, the child won’t tell on the parent. They think it’s all their fault to begin with.”
Riley shifted his weight and ate in silence for a bit. Then he said, grinning, “You’d kick their ass, huh?”
Clay laughed. Then he said, “Got anybody in particular in mind?”
He could see Riley retreat from the question.
“A kid I know in Chicago…”
“I see.”
“I’d better get back to work,” Riley said, picking up his lunch trash as he got to his feet.
Clay let him go, deciding to broach this subject again, as soon as the opportunity availed itself. Whoever was getting knocked around by his dad, it was really bugging Riley.
Riley was ticked when his mom said they had to stop at Kingston’s Market on their way home after work. He was sweaty and in a bad mood. All he wanted was a shower and to be left alone.
“Come on in with me,” Lily said as she grabbed her purse and opened the car door.
“I’ll wait.”
“I need you to pick out snacks and cereal.”
Yeah, right. She didn’t even trust him to sit in the parking lot for fifteen minutes without a babysitter.
At least Kingston’s was air-conditioned. He got out and followed her inside.
While his mom was sniffing and squeezing peaches in the produce section, Riley hung back, trying to look like he had a reason to be in the store. He picked up a foil bag of cinnamon-flavored bagel chips and tossed them slowly from hand to hand. When he looked up again, he saw Mickey just outside the plate-glass window, heading into the store with her dad and brother.
“Mom, I’m going to go say hi to Mickey.” He put the bagel chips back.
After his mom nodded approval, he started toward the front of the store.
He wasn’t sure how he was going to get her attention. He sure didn’t want to talk to her in front of her dad—not after seeing him in the park the other night.
As it turned out, Mickey saw him as soon as she came through the door. She walked away from her dad. Neither Mr. Fulton nor her brother seemed to notice she’d left them. She met Riley halfway, in front of the aisle that held the cereal and crackers.
“Hi,” she said. “You here by yourself?” She looked around his shoulder.
“Nah, I’m helping my mom. She’s sniffing peaches.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, pointing to the produce section.
Mickey laughed. “Is that anything like sniffing glue?”
He didn’t think she’d be making that kind of joke if she knew what her dad was up to. He forced a chuckle.
Mickey pushed her hair back behind her shoulder. That’s when he saw it. A greenish bruise on her collarbone—about the size of a thumb. She seemed to notice he was staring and quickly pulled her hair back over it.
“Your dad do that?” he asked, his stomach tying itself in a knot.
Her gaze fell to the floor and she seemed to retreat within herself, much as he’d seen her do when in her mother’s presence. “It’s nothing.”
“It looks like he grabbed you. Bet it’s worse in the back.” He reached a hand out.
Taking a tiny step away from him, she said, “It’s okay. I just got mouthy, that’s all.”
“Did you tell your mom?”
&nbs
p; She shook her head. “Really, it was my fault. Besides, he’s dropping us off at home after dinner. I probably won’t see him for a while.”
Over her shoulder, Riley saw Mr. Fulton and Drew coming toward them. Mr. Fulton had his arm around Drew’s shoulders. “Mickey,” he called.
Riley watched her eyes as she took two steps backward. The message she was sending was clear; she didn’t want him to make a scene. She was scared.
So he just stood there, like a big dope, digging his fingernails into his palms.
She blinked what might have been a thanks, then said, “ ’Bye,” very softly, and walked away.
Riley stared at her long blond hair as she left him. His eyes were stinging. He wanted to stop her. But he was a coward. He just stood there and watched her go with her dad—who didn’t hurt her very often, but apparently had found occasion to just recently.
Grinding his teeth together in impotent fury, he turned around and ran right into his mom.
“Where’s Mickey? I wanted to say hi.”
He pried his tight lips apart enough to let out a few syllables. “With her dad. Back there.” He pointed toward the butcher’s counter.
“What’s the matter? Did something happen?” His mom had that just-let-me-at-’em look on her face.
Angry look or not, Riley knew his mother couldn’t do anything to help Mickey. If she talked to Mickey’s mom, that was just going to make both of Mickey’s parents mad. If her dad put a bruise on her for being “mouthy,” he’d really let her have it if he thought she was telling other people about it.
“No. Nothing happened.”
Just then the Fultons came back to the front of the store. Riley stared hard at Mr. Fulton, trying to say, I know what you did, you bastard, with his eyes.
But Mr. Fulton didn’t pay the slightest attention to him. Instead, he walked up really close to Riley’s mom. “Hello, Lily.”
There was something really slimy about the way he said his mom’s name. And he was standing way too close to her. It made Riley’s hands itch with the need to push him away.
“Tad.” She tried to back up a little bit, but bumped into the end-cap on the aisle.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said, very softly. “Seems like since you’re staying in town, you and I should reacquaint ourselves. How about dinner?”
Riley saw his mom’s back straighten. She quit leaning away from him. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Tad.” She added more quietly, “I’m not interested in your games.” Then she stepped around him.
For a split second Riley thought Mr. Fulton was going to come after her. He watched and waited for him to make a move—Riley would have to step in then. But the guy stopped himself and just glared at her back.
As she passed Mickey, Mom said, “Hi, there, Mickey. How’s your summer going?”
It was impossible to keep up with the change. One minute his mom sounded like she was spitting nails, the next she was nice to Mickey. At least she didn’t hold Mickey’s creepy dad against her.
Mickey smiled nervously. “Good. Thanks, Mrs. Holt.”
“That invitation to come out and swim still stands.”
Tad stepped closer to his daughter. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Lily.” He mimicked the disgusted tone Riley’s mom had just used on him.
Lily shot him a dirty look, then smiled at Mickey and walked to the checkout.
Riley wanted to ask if they could just take Mickey home with them—no way did he want her to have to leave here with that big jerk. But his mom couldn’t do anything; adults have to have proof before they can help a kid.
Of course, if it actually happened that someone did something to help, there was the possibility that they might take Mickey away, send her to a foster home. She might never even come back to Glens Crossing.
Proof wasn’t going to do Mickey much good.
As Lily loaded her groceries into her trunk, she noticed Tad and his children coming out of the store. Once she was in the car, she looked over and saw them—all three—climb into a Corvette parked defensively at the very edge of the lot.
“Put your seat belt on,” she said to Riley, keeping an eye on the Fultons in the rearview mirror.
“It’s on. Geez, Mom. What’s with you? I always put it on.”
She looked at her son and smiled. “Good. There’s a law, you know.”
He looked at her like she’d lost her marbles. “Yeah, I know.”
She started the car and pulled out of the parking space.
While she was waiting for traffic to clear so she could pull out of the lot, she saw Tad’s black Corvette pull up behind her. Both of those kids were squashed into a single seat, no seat belt. What was Karen thinking, allowing him to cart her kids around like that?
Lily turned left onto the highway. When she glanced in the rearview mirror again, Tad’s car swung into the lane behind her. It was still light, but the clouds had moved in, making it darker than normal. He’d switched his headlights on.
A chill ran down the back of Lily’s neck. Those were the headlights that had been following her on Mill Run Road the other night—low and blue-white in their brightness.
The realization that followed made her stomach lurch.
As soon as she got home, she went upstairs to her under-wear drawer. She dumped the entire contents out onto her bed and sorted through them. A black lace thong was missing. She knew it had been in the drawer, because when she unpacked she discovered it stuck inside another pair of dark panties. She remembered because she hadn’t intended to bring it.
“I oughta take that thorny yellow rose and shove it up his ass.”
Tomorrow, she’d call the sheriff and file a complaint. Lot of good it would do—unless the sheriff got a warrant to search Tad’s house for her missing panties. She actually had to laugh at the thought. Still, it couldn’t hurt to have the sheriff keeping an eye out around her place. That slick black Corvette had no business anywhere near the lake house.
She gathered up the entire pile of underthings and took them down and threw them in the washing machine.
Later that night, the telephone rang. Riley made no effort to answer it; nobody but his dad called him here. He was surprised when his mom brought the cordless phone to him in his room.
She said quietly, as she handed it to him, “It’s Mickey.”
His stomach felt like it bounced off a trampoline as he took the phone.
“Hello?”
Mickey sounded like she’d been holding her breath. “Hi.”
“What’s up?” he said, just like she called every day.
“Nothing. I just felt like talking to someone who doesn’t have the same last name as me.”
She was trying to make her voice light, but Riley could tell she was a little hoarse. Had she been crying?
“Well, I guess you called the right number, then.” He tried to sound more cheery than he felt. When she didn’t say anything else right away, he said, “I finished the book.”
“You did?” Now her voice sounded really happy, not fake happy. “Did you like it?”
“Yeah.” Riley found that once they started talking about the story, it was hard to stop. They talked about the characters, and who did something that was totally stupid, and how cool it would be if there were wizards and elves. They decided if anyplace had such creatures, it would be the place by the creek where she liked to read.
He was surprised when his mom came upstairs and peeked in his room. She pointed to his clock.
How did it get to be ten? He nodded and shooed her away so he could say goodbye in private.
Riley fell asleep wishing with all of his heart that he held special powers, like Gandalf, the wizard. Then he’d take care of Mr. Fulton.
For most of the next day, Riley stewed over ways to make Mr. Fulton pay. He must have been screwing up at work, because Bud kept asking him if he was all right and sticking close by. It was almost like the first weeks Riley had worked here. Except now it felt like Bud�
��s attention was because he was concerned, not because he was watching and waiting for Riley to mess up so he could yell at him.
It struck Riley then, he didn’t know exactly how it happened, or when things changed, but he didn’t hate Bud anymore. Didn’t love the guy, either. But he didn’t spend every night dreading coming here the next day.
It was getting on toward the end of the workday. Riley was cleaning the grease off his hands in the restroom. He looked at himself in the mirror and decided it was time to act. He was going to tell Bud. Bud was a guy—a big guy—a crazy guy. He could kick the T-man’s ass. If Mickey’s dad knew somebody would come after him if he hurt his daughter, maybe he’d think twice about it.
He finished washing his hands and splashed cold water on his face. If he got out there right now, he’d have a few minutes before his mom showed up.
He was working what he was going to say out in his mind as he neared the back door of the office. What he saw when he looked through that door made him freeze in place.
Bud stood very close to Riley’s mom, his hands on her face. Lily reached up and put her hands on top of his, but not to pull them away. They just looked at each other for a long time.
Then he kissed her. Oh, my God, Bud was kissing his mother!
Riley wanted to scream. Wanted to yell. Wanted to kick Bud’s ass.
Instead, he turned around and kicked the steel door that was partially open between the shop and the office. It crashed against the shop wall and flew back toward him. He kicked it again.
Then he walked into the office, right past his mom and Bud. They’d jumped apart, both looking like they’d just been caught doing something dirty—which they had.
Walking straight to the car, he got in and slammed the door.
When his mom came out and got in the car, she said, “Riley, things aren’t always what they seem…. There are a lot of things you don’t understand yet—”
Riley cut her off. “Don’t bother. I have eyes.” She could just save the lame explanation. Funny, when he offered an explanation, his mom always called it an excuse.
The Road Home Page 31