Knowing I wasn’t one to give idle threats, he didn’t argue. Instead, he crossed his arms and returned to staring out the window.
Can I drive? Hopefully, I would one day look back on this moment and find humor in his impudence. I was sure my sisters and Anna would find Matt’s misbehavior hilarious, but right now, I was livid. Livid and scared. What if Matt’s drinking wasn’t a one-time thing? What if, like his father, he had a serious problem with alcohol?
My phone buzzed with a text and because I was still at the stoplight, I glanced down and read the message from Carrie. “The caterer and I have a table upstairs. Are you almost here?”
Ugh! I glanced at the clock, shocked it was already lunch time. With everything going on this morning, I’d completely forgotten about my meeting with Carrie and the caterer.
I texted back a quick, “Start without me. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Matt gave a disapproving look at my phone. He opened his mouth to speak but thought better of it and said nothing.
The stoplight turned green, and I stashed my phone in the cup holder before driving forward.
Chapter 16
Keith
After I returned home from physical therapy, I made myself a grilled pimento cheese sandwich and sat on the front porch with Bella. I took comfort in how the dog followed me from room to room. It was almost as if she knew I needed a little battle buddy.
A squirrel raced across the yard and skittered up the oak tree. Bella lifted her head and thumped her tail but made no effort to chase the animal, something she would’ve done in her younger years. I fed her a piece of my sandwich and she licked my hand appreciatively.
When an unfamiliar car pulled into the driveway, Bella stood on shaky legs and hobbled to the edge of the porch. Using my cane, I did the same, noting how my wobbly movements matched the dog’s.
To my surprise, Jillian pushed open the driver’s side door.
“New car?” I asked.
“It’s Bianca’s,” she answered, her tone clipped. “I borrowed it to pick up Matt.”
I nodded as if this were a perfectly logical explanation. Matt stepped out of the car, and I held up my hand to say hello, but he barely acknowledged me. I looked at Jillian, hoping she’d explain why Matt wasn’t in school, but she was busy frowning at her phone.
I wasn’t used to the amount of time people spent staring at their phone. I’d had a mobile phone when I’d deployed, but it hadn’t been as advanced, and I hadn’t spent every waking hour staring at it.
“Everything okay?” I asked, as Matt and Jillian approached the porch.
Jillian tensed. “Matt is going to hang out with you for a few hours. I’m late to a meeting and the two of you need to talk.”
“Oh?” I leaned on my cane and stretched my leg, grateful physical therapy was easing some of the pain. “What’s going on, Matt? Why aren’t you in school?”
Looking down, he mumbled, “I don’t know.”
“He was expelled,” Jillian said.
“Expelled? For what?”
“It’s nothing.” Matt shoved his hands deep into his pockets and started to walk past me into the house.
I grabbed his arm. “Tell me what happened.”
He yanked his arm away and flipped back his bangs. “I was out in the parking lot having a drink with a few of the guys.”
“A drink?” My stomach plunged. I saw an image of my own father passed out drunk on the bathroom floor. “Are you talking about alcohol, Son?”
He met my gaze head on. “Yeah, I am. But seriously, it’s not a big deal.”
“This is a huge deal.” Fear and anger replaced Jillian’s usual mild manner. “The last thing I need is another alcoholic in the family.”
I stared at Jillian, wanting to believe the alcoholic in the family she meant was my father and not me, but uncertainty settled in the pit of my stomach.
Oh, Lord, if it’s me, change me. Give me the right words to reach my son.
“Let’s sit down and talk about this,” I said calmly.
At first, neither one of them moved, so I led the way, returning to my place on the wooden swing. Jillian nudged Matt in the direction of the wicker chairs, and they both sat.
With a deep breath, I looked at Matt. “Alcohol destroyed my father. Did you know that, Son?”
“Yeah. You told me.”
“You know that’s why I never drink, right?”
Suspicion seeped into his eyes, and he shot Jillian a look of disbelief. The queasiness in my stomach grew, but I pressed on, determined to be the parent Matt needed. “You never met my father because he left when I was in high school. He was a mean drunk, and I swore I would never be like him.”
Matt tugged at a hole in his cargo shorts. “You told me he never hit you, but he said mean things to you and Grandma.”
“That’s right.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. I didn’t want to relive my childhood, but I was eager to make my point. “When your mom and I were in college, my dad was driving home from the bar, and he hit a woman with his car. She ended up being okay, but . . .” I took a breath, wanting to keep my emotions under control.
“Anyway, my dad went to rehab and swore he was done drinking. Even though his alcohol level was off the charts at the time of the accident, his lawyer succeeded in keeping him out of jail. The day my father received the ‘not guilty’ verdict was the day he went back to drinking.
“After that, I decided alcohol would never be part of my life.” I paused, giving Matt a chance to absorb my words. “Some people, like your mother, can enjoy a drink without any problem. I know she loves having a glass of wine with dinner or an occasional margarita with her sisters. Maybe you’re like her. I hope so because that would make your life much easier. But maybe you’re like me. Maybe it would be better if you made a pact with yourself not to drink. Ever. What do you think about that?”
Matt peeked out from behind his bangs. “Dad?”
“Yeah?” I asked, anticipating that this would be our breakthrough moment.
He hesitated as if afraid to continue, but I gave an encouraging nod. “Go ahead, Son. You can tell me.”
He wet his lips, looked at Jillian, and exhaled slowly. “Okay. It’s just that you have a real problem with drinking. You’re kind of an alcoholic. You can go months without it, but you always start again and can’t seem to stop . . . just like your dad.”
My chest tightened. “No, that’s not true, Son.”
He nodded. “It is, and it’s one of the reasons Mom kicked you out of the house. She kept trying to convince you to get treatment, but you wouldn’t.”
I shook my head. “I’m a major in the army. I couldn’t have been that successful if I had a problem with alcohol.”
Matt sat up straighter. “Are you saying military officers are immune to those kinds of problems?”
My body trembled, as though comprehending the horrible truth my mind failed to remember. I looked at Jillian, needing her to deny Matt’s awful accusations despite what she’d told me earlier. Instead, she caused my world to collapse with a simple nod.
“It’s true?” An alcoholic? A cheater? What kind of man had I become? No wonder she no longer trusted me. I was just as worthless as my father.
Jillian made no effort to deny it. I pinched my nose and took several deep, ragged breaths. My eyes burned, and I blinked hard. In the darkest part of my mind, I heard my father sneering at me, warning me to stop acting like a baby.
I tightened my fist and silenced the cruel voice in my mind. Enough of this wallowing! The past was the past. Now it was time to man up and face my problems head on.
Chapter 17
Lyla
While Avery worked with Hank on her floor routine at the gym, Lyla tried reading, but she couldn’t concentrate. She hadn’t heard from Ronnie since sending the e-mail that officially ended their relationship. What had he thought about her letter?
Was he mad or did he simply no longer care? Even though she’d
been the one to initiate their breakup, his absence left her with a dreadful emptiness. She couldn’t eat, sleep, or think straight. She kept telling herself it would get easier—it would soon become well with her soul—but she was struggling.
Hank patiently coached Avery through a difficult part of the routine. Frustrated, Avery folded her arms, sank to the floor, and puffed out her bottom lip. “Can’t do it.”
Lyla stood, but before she could go to her daughter, Hank knelt and placed a hand on Avery’s shoulder. Although Lyla couldn’t hear what he was saying, Avery nodded in response to his words. At one point, she looked up, sniffed hard, and gave a little smile. Hank laughed and helped Avery to her feet where she rewarded him with one of her big, heartfelt hugs.
Maybe Ronnie wasn’t the only one who had a special connection with Avery.
Lately, Lyla had been thinking about Hank’s offer to attend Wednesday night dinner at his church. She wasn’t looking for another relationship, but she was lonely and the idea of joining a church community appealed to her.
Oh, she’d met plenty of judgmental Christians—Christians who said, “God Bless you,” right before stabbing you in the back—but Hank was the kindest man in the world, so maybe his church friends were like him.
The gymnastics lesson ended, and Avery gave Hank another hug before skipping over to Lyla. “I fabulous, Mommy,” she declared, the word fabulous sounding like fabulush. Even though the surgery had drastically improved her speech, there were certain words Avery would probably never pronounce correctly.
“Yes.” Lyla smiled. “You were absolutely fabulous.”
Hank joined them and raved about Avery’s determination. When Avery spotted a friend entering the gym, she ran over to say hello, leaving Lyla alone with Hank.
They both watched Avery in silence until Hank said, “Do you know about the organization Chelsea’s Friends?”
Lyla scooped up Avery’s jacket and shoes. “They contributed to the game room at the hospital where Avery had her surgery.”
Hank nodded. “They’re hosting a gala at the Carson Mansion. Since I’m one of the Special Olympics coaches, I received two complimentary tickets. I was hoping you’d consider joining me.”
“Hank . . .”
“It wouldn’t be a date,” he stammered. “Think of it more like an event for people concerned about children with special needs. I don’t enjoy going to these kind of parties, but I want to ask them about sponsoring a regional team. My sister isn’t available that night—”
“So, I’m second choice?” Lyla asked, surprised by her flirtatious tone.
Hank’s face reddened. “You’re not second choice, Lyla. I just . . .”
“I’m joking,” she said, laughing.
He gave a bashful grin. “I have a tendency to take things too seriously. Anyway, if you’d like to go, my sister’s oldest daughter Hannah is free to babysit that night. She’s fifteen, CPR certified, and can provide you with references. Paying her would be my treat, of course, but I wouldn’t be offended if you wanted to use someone else. If you want to go, I mean.”
Lyla was touched by Hank’s thoughtfulness to include free childcare with the date. She wanted to say yes, but something held her back. “I’m sorry, Hank. I’m just not ready. Not yet.”
His face fell, but he forced a smile. “That’s okay, I understand.”
“Don’t take it personally,” she hastily added, tucking her hair behind her ear. He was such a gentleman, and she didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but she wasn’t ready to start dating again.
Hank smiled. “It’s fine, Lyla. I just thought I’d ask. Anyway, you take care and have a good weekend. I’ll see you next week.”
As he walked away, Lyla regretted her decision. What was preventing her from saying yes? Ronnie? She’d given Ronnie a choice, and he’d chosen his wife.
Before she could change her mind, she called Hank’s name. He turned around, a glimmer of hope shining in his eyes. She felt a little flutter in her throat and almost chickened out. When Hank gave her that sweet, accepting smile, she relaxed.
“About the charity event?” she said, her voice shaky. “Is it okay if I change my mind?”
“Of course.”
“Then I’d like to go.”
His smile deepened. “Great! I’ll call you later with the details.”
She nodded, feeling optimistic and peaceful about the future. Maybe things were going to be okay after all.
*
After practice, Lyla and Avery arrived home to find a bouquet of flowers sitting on the front porch.
“From Daddy?” Avery asked.
At least once a month, Ronnie sent expensive red or pink roses with the standard flower shop vase and card that read, “All my love, R.” This arrangement, however, was different—Shasta daisies, sunflowers, cosmos, and lilies. Maybe they were from the realtor Lyla had talked to about selling the house. She hadn’t yet signed the contract, but she was seriously considering it.
Avery squatted and carefully sounded out the words on the homemade gift tag attached with twine to the mason jar. “For Lyla and Avery from Justine and Madison.”
Unexpected emotion swept through Lyla. She squatted beside Avery, lifted the tag to confirm the flowers really were from her neighbors. Justine had a beautiful flower garden, and Lyla often saw the young mother tending to it while baby Madison sat in a battery-operated swing under a shade tree.
“There!” Avery jumped to her feet and raced over to hug Justine.
“Well, hello, Avery,” Justine said, laughing. She carried Madison in a sling, so she was able to steady the baby with one hand and lean over to return Avery’s hug.
“Flowers!” Avery pointed back to the porch.
“Do you like them?”
Avery nodded. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I was thinking if it’s okay with your mom, maybe you could help me pick a bouquet from my garden for the new neighbors down the street.”
Avery clapped. “Mommy, can I?”
Lyla blinked hard, embarrassed by how touched she was by both the flowers and Justine’s kind gesture to include Avery in welcoming the new neighbors. Lyla wanted to apologize for overreacting the other day when Justine had warned her about Avery, but she didn’t know how.
As if reading Lyla’s mind, Justine gave a bashful smile. “Sometimes I speak without thinking. Please forgive me for the other day. I’m really sorry.”
Lyla shook her head. “I’m the one who should apologize. I was being too sensitive. You were only speaking the truth.”
“Then we’re even.” Justine winked.
An enormous weight slid off Lyla’s shoulders. She’d always regretted not being more friendly with Justine.
Avery reached for the baby. “I hold her?”
Justine hesitated. “As long as you sit down. I’m kind of overprotective like that.”
Avery plopped herself on the porch steps and opened her arms for the baby. Justine sat beside her and placed Madison in Avery’s lap. Madison smiled and Justine said, “I think she likes you.”
Avery giggled. “Hi, baby.”
Sitting on the other side of Avery, Lyla took hold of the baby’s hand. It was hard to believe Avery had ever been that small. Time had flown so quickly. One minute she was pregnant and scared to death for her future, and the next she was the mother of a beautiful six-year-old.
“Mommy’s going to ball,” Avery announced.
“Ball?” Justine asked.
“The charity gala for Chelsea’s Friends,” Lyla explained. “I told Avery it’s kind of like the ball in a Disney movie.”
“Oh, I saw a flyer about that at the library. It sounds like fun. Are you going with—”
“No,” Lyla said, afraid Justine was about to mention Avery’s father. “Avery’s gymnastics coach invited me.”
Justine brightened. “Hank Brown?”
“Yes, do you know him?”
“He goes to my church. He’s so nice, isn�
�t he?”
Lyla felt herself blush. “He is, but we’re just going as friends. He had an extra ticket and invited me to accompany him because his sister couldn’t make it.”
Justine brushed an invisible speck of dirt off her yoga pants. “He could’ve asked someone else, you know.”
Lyla grinned. “I’m nervous about finding something to wear, but I think it’ll be fun.”
Justine’s entire face lit up. “Do you need a ball gown?”
“Nothing that formal. Hank said the event is black tie, so a cocktail dress is fine, although I imagine some women will wear formal gowns.”
Justine practically leapt off the porch. “Come on. There’s something I have to show you.” She gently scooped the baby out of Avery’s arms and effortlessly slipped her into the sling.
Avery, who was always up for an adventure, jumped to her feet. “Where we go?”
“Just follow me,” Justine insisted, striding across the lawn toward her house. “You aren’t going to believe what I have to show you.”
*
Lyla had never been inside Justine’s house, and she was surprised by how normal it looked. Although gorgeously decorated with expensive furnishings, the interior was far from the pristine museum she’d imagined. A pile of mail sat on the entry table, and a load of clean laundry, half-folded, was strewn across the couch, giving the home a cozy, lived-in feel.
Without apologizing for the mess, Justine led everyone through the living room to the master suite. Lyla fought back feelings of jealousy when she entered Justine’s bedroom and saw the bay window, posh drapes, and gorgeous king-sized sleigh bed.
“Huge.” Avery pointed at the bed.
Justine laughed. “I used to think so until Madison was born. Now I’m glad there’s enough room for all of us.”
Lyla blocked out images of Avery as a newborn, sleeping between Ronnie and her on the rare occasions he’d spent the night. She’d deluded herself by believing they were a real family.
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