Let It Burn

by Ruth Cardello

  Andrew rose to his feet and sighed. An older man wearing a World War II veteran baseball cap came to stand beside him. “I come here once a year and it never gets easier, but I don’t think it’s supposed to.” He referenced a woman standing outside a car parked behind Andrew’s. “That’s my daughter. She comes with me now that my wife passed. She doesn’t understand what I do here, but you do. When I saw you I remembered my first time. I don’t know what you saw or what happened to your friends, but I hope this helps you. What does a Marine do when he comes across a fallen comrade? He picks him up. He carries him if need be. That kind of brotherhood doesn’t bow to death. These men are strong enough to carry whatever weight you bear. Give it to them, then honor them by being a good man, husband, and father. A good friend to those who need it. And when you see a man down on his knees never be too busy to stop and help him.”

  Blinking back emotion, Andrew shook the man’s hand and promised to do just that. When he left the cemetery a while later, he drove back to the airport but didn’t call Helene. If Ahearn didn’t resign, the following day would start an ugly battle that would play out in the courts and probably the media. He wanted to spare her from that.

  He made one call home and without bothering with niceties, said, “I need your help.”

  Dax Marshall answered forcefully, “Whatever you need.”

  “Your friend, Clay Landon, can he be discrete?”

  “If I threaten his life, yes.”

  “He runs a foundation for Veterans, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “I have three families I want taken care of, but I don’t want them to know I’m doing it. Could he do that for me?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Thanks. I’ll send you the information.”

  “Andrew?”

  “Yes.”

  “There are a lot of people here who care about you.”

  “I know.”

  “Helene is running a relationship-building boot camp to prepare them for your return. You’d better marry that girl. She’s something else.”

  Andrew shook his head in bewilderment. “She’s what?”

  “You’ll see when you get back. When will that be?”

  “I don’t know. There’s something I need to handle first.”

  “You don’t have to handle it alone.”

  “For now I do, but I know you have my back if I need you. I’ll try not to get you shot at this time.”

  “I’d appreciate that.”

  “I never thanked you for sending Emmitt.”

  “Not necessary. You’re family.”

  It was an interesting comment from someone who had recently joined the Barringtons, but it rang true. For a long time Andrew had considered his true family to be the men and women he served beside. He was beginning to see that it didn’t have to be like that. Like his mother, he had closed himself off. He hadn’t been whole even before losing Lofton and the others.

  Dax made family sound like a treasured commitment. There was something inspiring about seeing a man who, if his reputation were to be believed, had lived a hard and solitary life until he met Kenzi.

  Relationship-building boot camp? I could use it, too.

  After hanging up with Dax, Andrew decided to make one more call. “It’s Andrew,” he said.

  “It’s Andrew,” Helene’s mother echoed.

  “You can put me on speakerphone.”

  “Where are you? Are you with Helene?” her father asked.

  “No, I haven’t spoken to her since this morning after I left her in Boston.” He braced himself for a possibly emotional reaction.

  “We know,” her mother said calmly.

  Of course they do. Helene didn’t hide things from her family. Wonderful. Ugly. She brought it all to them. Had she told them his secret? Without asking, he knew she hadn’t. She was loyal and believed in promises. Although he’d arranged for a plane to take her home, a part of him had known she wouldn’t go. “How is she?”

  “Confused,” Art said in a stern tone. “And she’s not alone.”

  “There’s something I need to do before I can be with her.”

  “Does it involve another woman?” Art asked.

  Rose chastised him quickly, “Of course it doesn’t. He wouldn’t do that.”

  Art countered, “Rose, let the boy answer.”

  “No, sir, it doesn’t.” He took a leap of faith then and told them exactly what it did involve.

  Both of her parents were quiet for several minutes after he finished. In a sympathetic tone Art asked, “Does Helene know this?”

  “I told her last night.”

  Rose asked, “What are you going to do?”

  “It depends on what Ahearn does. If he resigns, it’s over.”

  “And if he doesn’t?” Art asked.

  “I’ll expose him and the cover-up. I don’t have proof, so it won’t be easy, but it’s the right thing to do. I can’t let him send anyone else to their deaths.”

  “You didn’t want Helene at your side for this?” Rose asked.

  Andrew didn’t answer at first because he didn’t think they’d understand. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Helene to take his side. She would, but this was his fight. He couldn’t bear for another person to be hurt by it.

  “You love her,” Art said simply.

  “Yes, sir,” Andrew said. “More than I know how to express in words. She’s the piece of me I didn’t even know was missing. When I’m with her, life makes sense. I want you to know that I will dedicate my life to keeping her safe, to finding ways to make her smile, and the causes that are important to her will always be important to me. When this is over, I plan to ask her to marry me, and I’m asking for your blessing.”

  Art cleared his throat. “We could use a sharpshooter around here.”

  Andrew chuckled.

  Her mother said, “I’ve always wanted a son, but once you two start having babies you have to get your own place.”

  Andrew laughed again. There was a simplicity to her parents that lightened the weight he’d carried for so long. They didn’t ask him a hundred questions about what he’d been through. They didn’t need him to change who he was to be with them. “Will do.”

  Art interjected, “If you need us, son, we’ll fly up to be with you.”

  He loved that Helene’s father not only made that offer, but meant it. No wonder Helene is so fiercely loyal. Family. They know how to do it right. “No, but I’ll call you tomorrow and update you.”

  “We would love that,” her father said.

  “You should call Helene, too,” her mother said.

  “He will,” her father added.

  “I know, but she’s waiting and all worried,” her mother continued.

  “Let the boy figure it out himself. He’ll do the right thing.”

  “Ask him what you asked me.”

  “I’ll ask him later.”

  “You said you really wanted to know so you might as well ask while you have him on the phone.”

  Andrew broke in, “What do you want to know, Art?”

  Her father asked slowly, “Are those guys still watching us from the trees?”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  After dinner the next evening, Helene was reading in the living room with Andrew’s parents. Although she hadn’t heard from Andrew, she refused to second-guess her decision to wait for him. She wasn’t entirely comfortable with staying with his parents yet, but Sophie had insisted, and Helene was beginning to see that the woman could be just as stubborn as she was—in a wonderful, loving way.

  Which made it harder and harder to not feel awful about what her uncle had done to this family. To her family as well because no matter how many times Helene told herself she wasn’t responsible for what her uncle had done, the guilt lingered. She knew her parents felt the same, even though they didn’t talk about it either.

  There was a lot to be positive about. The previous evening had started off rocky, but Helene hadn’t le
t it discourage her. She’d considered the worst-case scenario: Andrew didn’t come back, and his family threw her out, claiming she’d inappropriately inserted herself into their business. The risk had been worth it and so far it appeared to have paid off. The tension regarding Andrew’s return as well as his departure seemed to have lessened. If nothing else, Andrew’s family had heard her out. If they repeated their first reception of Andrew then shame on them. She had done all she could.

  Well, short of telling them what her family had done to theirs.

  Sophie called out, “Asher. Emily. We didn’t expect you tonight. Where’s Joseph?”

  Emily crossed over and gave her mother-in-law a kiss. “We left him with a babysitter.”

  “Really?” Dale asked as he stood. “And you chose to spend that coveted sanity time with us?” He shook Asher’s hand. “Come on in. We’re having a quiet night.”

  Asher took Emily’s hand and walked over to sit across from Helene. He took a photo out of his breast pocket and handed it to her. “I have something for you.”

  It was a holiday photo of five young children, all under the age of ten. Four boys in suits and little Kenzi in a pretty dress and diaper. Helene smiled. The boys had their arms around each other’s shoulders and enough devil in their eyes to imply that it wasn’t the pose the photographer had requested.

  Sitting forward, with his elbows on his knees, Asher said, “Until you made us face it, I didn’t realize how far we’d gone from how close we were back then. And, before your speech yesterday, I thought the status quo was set in stone when it doesn’t have to be. I tell my employees that you can’t achieve something you can’t visualize. You have to know what you want, take action to make it a reality, and see every obstacle as surmountable. I want my children to see my siblings and me the way I was in that photo.”

  Helene looked at the picture briefly, but was saddened by what she knew was missing from it. And why. She turned the photo over and asked herself if she had any business telling this family how to behave when her own family might be the cause of their issues.

  Grant and Ian strolled in, joining the mix. “What do you have there?” Grant asked.

  Helene passed him the photo. “A photo of my favorite family.”

  He laughed and showed Ian. “I remember that day. None of you were listening to the poor photographer.”

  Ian clapped a hand on Grant’s shoulder. “You made up for our bad behavior by advising on how upselling certain packages would increase his profits. He loved you.”

  Asher leaned in. “Do you remember how we blamed the trouble on Lance, and he started to cry?”

  “Watch what you share, Asher, I have plenty of stories about you,” Lance said as he entered the room with Willa.

  Grant chuckled. “One year Asher was convinced Mom and Dad were trying to kill him because he got hurt doing everything they warned him not to do. They would point at something, tell him how dangerous it was, and he’d be on it the second they turned their backs.”

  “They made it sound too good,” Asher said with a shrug and a grin. “See that skateboard, Asher? Whatever you do, don’t use it in the kitchen on the marble floor. Who could resist seeing why?”

  Emily hugged his side. “Let’s hope Joseph doesn’t take after you.”

  “Unless you have more children,” Lance interjected. “There were perks to being Asher’s little brother. I was never bullied.”

  Asher flexed his shoulders. “I would have killed anyone who bothered you.”

  Grant joked, “Ian would have gotten them expelled. He was on every ruling committee there was.”

  Ian winked at Helene. “Grant would have still advised them on their retirement. He can’t help himself.”

  Everyone laughed. Helene laughed along, but the reality of what she knew stopped her from feeling joy with them. Is this how Andrew always feels? Riddled with guilt that isn’t his, but is unshakeable?

  Kenzi and Dax joined the group. Shrugging off her coat, Kenzi said, “The traffic was horrendous. I’m glad we’re not late.”

  “Late? For what?” Helene asked.

  Kenzi looked around as if asking for help. “Impromptu game night?”

  Helene hadn’t heard anything about it, but she was beginning to feel that something else was going on. Were they there because they felt sorry for her since there had been no word from Andrew? The way they were gathering around her certainly made it seem that way. There was hope for these Barringtons yet.

  She was preparing to thank them when her parents walked into the living room. Helene jumped to her feet. “Mom. Dad. What are you doing here?” She flew across the room to give them each a hug. She’d never been so happy to see them.

  After releasing her from a tight bear hug, her father said, “We’re here to see you, silly.”

  Helene wiped away happy tears that poured down her cheeks. “I told you you didn’t have to come.”

  Her mother added, “How could we stay away?”

  Helene introduced her parents to Sophie and Dale, then to each of their children. They were soon chatting comfortably. Like Helene, her parents weren’t intimidated by the affluence of the Barringtons and that allowed them to be easily accepted into the mix. Her father and Dale got along so well they stepped away from everyone else to talk privately.

  She wondered if her parents felt as she did. Part of her was proud of his family. She wished Andrew could have been there to see how well everyone was getting along. She badly wanted to see him right there with them, laughing over childhood stories.

  Another part of her felt like she didn’t belong there, could never belong there. Even if Andrew returned.

  Dale and her father rejoined the group, then Dale glanced down at his phone and said, “Excuse me for a moment. I’ll be right back.”

  Andrew had just pulled into the driveway of his parents’ home and had texted his father to make sure everyone had arrived. As soon as he’d received news that Ahearn had resigned without fanfare, Andrew had known where he was headed next.

  He might never again be the man he’d been before Lofton and the others had died, but if he did this right he would be someone who could look himself in the mirror again. The advice from the older veteran he’d met in the cemetery rang true to him. He would never forget his friends and their loss would always be with him, but it was one he wouldn’t let beat him. The guilt had already taken too much from him. He was now determined to put his effort into becoming a good husband, and God willing, a good father. While he was at it, he’d do his best to be a better son and brother. That was how he would honor Lofton, by not only taking care of his friend’s family, but his own as well.

  His father met him on the steps and handed him a small box. Andrew opened it, revealing an antique ring with a simple round stone. “Art and Rose are inside. They asked me to give this to you. It was his mother’s.”

  Andrew closed the box with a nod and pocketed it.

  Dale cleared his throat. “The Franklins seem like good people.”

  “They are.” Andrew met his father’s eyes for a long moment. In the past he hadn’t been able to look at his father without seeing what Andrew had always considered weakness. It had taken hitting rock bottom for him to view the man before him more kindly. I don’t know why he made the choices he did, but it may be time to forgive him for being fallible . . . human.

  “Your mother and I had a long talk after you left. There’s something I need to tell you—”

  “It’s okay, Dad.”

  His father took hold of his forearm. “This has been a wonderful year for our family, but also a rough one. We’ve had to face some tough truths about who we are. Me especially. I need you to know that I always have been and always will be proud of you. I was wrong about so many things, but I thought I was doing what was best for our family.”

  Andrew placed his hand over his father’s. “I know that, Dad.”

  “Do you?” Dale asked in a tight voice. “Don’t give up on us, Andr
ew. We need you every bit as much as you’ve ever needed us.”

  Andrew thought about how often he’d felt on the outside of his own family, unable to fit no matter how he tried. He could hold onto that feeling or he could embrace the acceptance and loving trust he’d experienced with Helene and her family. His relationship with his father, as well as the rest of his family, was not only a commitment, but also a choice.

  He’d told himself he wanted to be a better son and this was his opportunity to test that decision. He could hold onto the past or let it all go and start fresh.

  Andrew dropped his arm, breaking that contact with his father, then pulled him in for a tight hug. His father returned the hug with the same intensity. After a final pat to his father’s back, Andrew stepped back. “We’re good, Dad.”

  Dale’s eyes shone with emotion. “We’re good.” He took a deep breath. “One more thing. Kenzi told me you went to Aruba to investigate things in your aunt’s journal. Did you discover anything?”

  Andrew tensed. His family had accepted Helene. What would they think if they knew about her connection to Kent’s death? Even though she’d had nothing to do with it, would it change the way they saw her? He refused to give tragedies from the past more power than they already had. “Nothing worth sharing.”

  His father let out an audible sigh of relief. “I’m glad. Patrice Stanfield was truly a sick woman. She couldn’t bear the idea of your mother being happy and did everything she could to undermine it. As awful as it sounds, I was relieved when I heard she was dead. She can’t hurt us anymore.”

  The depth of the pain in Dale’s eyes was unsettling. How far had his aunt gone to hurt his parents? He remembered what Helene had once said, “Then maybe your aunt killed them . . .” What was his aunt’s tie to Stiles and to Kent’s death? Would Patrice Stanfield have gone as far as to hurt one of her sister’s children? Andrew was about to ask his father what exactly his aunt was capable of when the front door opened.