Vindicated

by eliza_000

  "Okay, that's enough," he said at last. "We've got to get the tables set before Mrs. Potts yells at me."

  The children emitted a collective groan. A small boy with glossy curls clung to Randy's leg with a ferocity that brought a lump to Karly's throat.

  Randy patted the boy on the head. "Come on, Jimmy. You put out the napkins." Within minutes, he’d organized a table-setting brigade from the group. The patter of tiny feet and childish chatter filled the air. Silverware clinked.

  "Hey," she said and stepped into the room.

  He glanced up, startled. Their eyes met and a rush of attraction flooded through her. Not the white-hot flood of sexual excitement from before but a subtle, pleasurable warmth, as if she’d stepped into a hot bath after a cold winter day.

  "Hey. What're you doing here?" He disentangled Jimmy's hands from his pant leg and crossed the room to meet her.

  "You dropped your wallet after class this morning. I stopped by Felony, and Jack said you were here." She took the wallet from her purse and held it up.

  "I did?" He searched his pockets. "Shit. I didn't even notice. Thanks."

  "Do you do this often?"

  "Lose my wallet? No." He looked confused and raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you mean the kids? Naw. The girl who usually watches them had an emergency and had to leave. I told Mrs. Potts I'd keep them entertained while she tries to get the meal ready."

  "Randy-Bear. Up! Up!" A small voice floated up from the floor. Little Jimmy had hold of Randy's pants again and gave them a sharp tug. "Up!" Randy rolled his eyes and smiled then heaved the little boy up onto his shoulder. “So how was your interview this morning?”

  She shrugged then sighed. “Same as always. I’m supposed to call back in a few days, which usually isn’t a good thing.”

  "I wish I could talk but…" He gave a helpless shrug as two of the children began to cry.

  "Right. I won't keep you," she said, but he’d already turned away to stop a little girl from beating another with her spoon.

  She retraced her way through the building, each step coming slower than the first. When she reached the kitchen, she caught a glimpse of Mrs. Potts in front of a steaming kettle on the stove. Gray hair clung in damp wisps to her forehead. Two bewildered teenagers sat in front of a mountain of potatoes, making a weak attempt to peel them.

  With her thoughts cluttered by debts, job interviews, and Emma, she continued down the hall. A woman about her own age stood near the front door, her hand caressing the head of a small girl about Emma’s age. The child’s clothes were tattered but clean. The woman looked less fortunate. She had no coat despite the wintry weather. They stepped aside to let Karly pass. The woman gave Karly a tired smile, and their eyes met. Karly saw herself reflected in the hunted gaze.

  This could be me and Emma. She smiled back, tightened the belt of her coat, and went out the door. Halfway down the steps, she stopped. Her life was a pathetic mess, but there would always be those less fortunate. She needed to thank her lucky stars for a roof over her head, however distasteful, and friends who cared enough to keep her afloat. Over the past few weeks, they’d buoyed her up, especially Randy. Whatever their differences, he’d shown generosity and kindness when she least expected it. The woman and child inside weren’t as lucky.

  The clouds broke overhead and a stray beam of sunshine illuminated the steps. She turned and went back inside before she could change her mind. The woman and child were still inside the door. Karly slipped out of her coat and held it out to the woman.

  “You don’t have a coat,” she said. “You’d better take this. It’s supposed to snow today.”

  “I couldn’t, but thank you,” the woman replied. She lifted her chin and met Karly’s eyes with stubborn pride.

  “I have a little girl about her age,” Karly said. “You need to take care of yourself for her.” She pushed the coat into the woman’s hands. “Please take it. I have another one at home.” This was a lie, but she’d pick one up at the secondhand store on the way home. “Just pay it forward when you get the chance.”

  Chapter 35

  Karly rinsed her hands in the sink, dried them on her apron, and stood back to admire her work. Beef stew bubbled inside three enormous stock pots on the stove. The cakes were iced. The biscuits were in the oven and would be ready in a few minutes. The Corbett brothers had managed to clean up the mess they’d made peeling potatoes. There was nothing left to do but serve the hungry and homeless people waiting outside.

  She was about to go find Mrs. Potts and ask for instructions when a man came into the room. He wore a brown corduroy jacket, green T-shirt, and jeans with tennis shoes. An air of outgoing calm suggested he was in charge of the facility.

  "There you are! The angel of grace." He rushed to her side, took her hand, and shook it gently. From the looks of his face, he was in his mid-thirties. A genuine smile of warmth and gratitude curved his lips. "I can't thank you enough, Miss…?"

  "Uh, Karly. Karly Eriksson." She smiled back at him.

  At the sound of her name, he cocked his head and tightened his grip on her hand. "Not the Karly? Randy's friend?"

  "Well, yes." The Karly? What did that mean? She tried to pull back her hand, but he kept hold of it and placed his other hand on top of it. The grasp was unexpected but not unpleasant, especially with him smiling at her as if he'd resolved a long-lost secret.

  "This is a pleasure, Miss Eriksson. Randy has told me so much about you. It's wonderful to finally put a face with the name. I feel like I know you already." Embarrassment heated her cheeks. He’d been talking about her? "Of course. Where are my manners? I'm Reverend Howell. My church runs this facility." He pumped her hand again enthusiastically. "Randy’s a regular around here. I don't know what we'd do without him. He's a godsend."

  "Really? Randy?" So this was what he did with the little spare time he had? A wave of guilt washed over her at the memory of all her preconceived notions about him. She hated being judged, yet here she was, judging him to within an inch of his life. And by all accounts, he was nothing like the man she thought.

  "Absolutely. He's been our biggest supporter since the get-go. He’s painted every room in this building, rewired the electric, and repaired drywall. Not only is he big on the outside, but he's got a heart inside to match." The reverend finally released her hand and took a step back to give her a thorough, non-threatening appraisal.

  “Yes, he does,” she said softly. Blood rushed into her face like a tidal wave. The heat of it made her dizzy for a second.

  "I’d love to speak with you some more, Miss Eriksson, but it's time to open the doors. Would you stay to help us serve? I don't want to abuse your generosity, but we really could use the help." Reverend Howell had a very charming smile, and he used it to advantage, she realized.

  "I would love to stay," she said.

  Everyone gathered in the dining hall while Randy opened the doors. There were only a half-dozen people running the show: Randy, Mrs. Potts, Reverend Howell, the potato-peeling teens, and herself. A throng of tired people crowded into the room with eager, hungry eyes that made her heart squeeze. Mothers with children clinging to their legs and teens with scared, hollow eyes made up the majority of the people. A few were men, stoop-shouldered and broken from an inhospitable life of disappointment. All were dressed in dirty, tattered clothing, but their faces lit up when they saw Randy and the others.

  Randy greeted each of them with a handshake or a pat on the shoulder, called them all by name, and commented on some personal tidbit that brought light into their eyes. When the room had filled, Reverend Howell gave a collective greeting and asked everyone to join him in a quick prayer before the meal. Sneaking up to her on his stealthy ninja feet, Randy appeared at Karly's side. She knew he was there before she saw him. The tiny hairs on her right arm raised in salute to his masculine presence. A large hand clasped hers, fingers threaded, warm and calloused and strong.

  Reverend Howell kept his prayer brief and to the point, which raised him ano
ther notch in her esteem. She expected Randy to release her hand when the Reverend finished, but he kept hold of it, linking them together. He introduced her to each person as if she were someone of importance.

  When the last person was seated with a steaming plate of food, he pulled her to the side of the room and swept a finger along the side of her face. The eyes staring back at her were dark with sincerity.

  “You said you could never repay me for helping you,” he said, “but you just did.”

  Chapter 36

  Billowing white clouds and gusting winds suggested an early spring was on its way. Karly stood on the doorstep of Mitch’s house, more nervous than she cared to admit. The scent of freshly baked cinnamon and sugar wafted across the porch. Pools of bright sunshine filtered through the trees. While she waited for someone to answer the door, she rubbed her sweaty palms on her jeans and rallied her flagging courage. It had been forever since she’d seen Mitch. She had no idea what to expect but didn’t get her hopes up.

  Pilar opened the door. Karly felt a curious mix of jealousy, resentment, and curiosity upon seeing her. This was the mother of Randy’s child, the woman he’d loved, and no wonder. She was tall and slender with luminous eyes, a waterfall of sleek brown hair, and an air of calm reassurance.

  “Can I help you?” Pilar asked, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

  Karly drew in a deep breath to quell her anxiety. She had to do this for Emma. “Hi. I’m Karly. Mitch’s sister. Is he home?”

  Pilar lifted an eyebrow and dragged her gaze over Karly from head to toe and back again. She cocked her head to the side like a bird, eyes narrowed in speculation. “Why? Is he expecting you?”

  “No, but it’s important. I need a minute, please.” She forced a smile to put Pilar at ease.

  “Okay. Sure. Come on in.” Pilar opened the door and stepped back in invitation. “He’s upstairs. I’ll go get him.” Pilar turned and trudged up the steps, leaving Karly in the middle of the foyer.

  She shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, her gaze roving over the family pictures on the walls. Two of the faces she recognized as her niece and nephew, whom she barely knew. Mitch’s ex-wife lived out of state and the kids only came to visit on holidays and the odd summer vacation. Several pictures of a newborn graced the top of a small table next to the front door. This would be her latest nephew, Mitch and Pilar’s child. A small pang of regret replaced her nervousness. Pushing aside the sadness over her family’s estrangement, her eyes went to the gilt-framed portrait of a little boy with red curls and sparkling, mischievous eyes. The resemblance to Randy caught her off guard. She raised a hand to her mouth in surprise.

  “He’ll be down in a minute,” Pilar said, returning. “He’s in the shower. We can go into the kitchen and talk while you wait. Would you like some coffee?” The former suspicion in her tone had been replaced by a note of friendly interest. Her gaze followed Karly’s. “That’s Caleb. He’s the spitting image of Randy, isn’t he?”

  “Yes, he is,” Karly replied, finding her voice amid all the shock, and followed Pilar into the kitchen.

  “Acts just like him, too. That boy’s going to be the death of me yet,” Pilar said, the corners of her lips curling in amusement. “Stubborn and wild as they come. But then, you probably noticed that about his father too.”

  “Yes,” Karly said. “It’s hard to miss.”

  The kitchen smelled of comforting things, like cookies and coffee. The décor was warm and inviting. Striped wallpaper and white wainscoting around the walls, a checked green-and-white tablecloth on the small breakfast table, and lacy café curtains on the windows. Toys littered the floor, and a highchair rested at Karly’s elbow. The whole room reeked of family and gave Karly a pang of envy and hope. She wanted these things for herself. If Mitch could overcome their fucked-up childhood to achieve this, then maybe she could, too.

  “How do you like your coffee?” Pilar poured rich, aromatic black liquid into Karly’s cup and nodded to a bowl of sugar and creamer in the center of the table.

  “Sweet and creamy,” Karly replied.

  Pilar slid into the chair across from Karly and stared at her with open curiosity. Karly returned the stare with equal interest and plotted her tactics. Although they were strangers, they shared mutual interests. Neither of them would benefit from a poor relationship. She needed to handle this meeting with diplomacy and tact, two things that normally eluded her.

  “It’s nice to finally meet you,” Pilar said. “Mitch talks about you all the time.”

  “He does?” Karly sat back in surprise, splashing coffee over the edge of her cup and onto the saucer. She dabbed at it with a paper napkin from the holder in the center of the table.

  “Sure. I think he misses you.” A shy smile lit Pilar’s face. She was strikingly beautiful when she smiled.

  Karly’s chest tightened with unexpected jealousy. No wonder Randy had hooked up with her. No wonder her brother had trashed his friendship with Randy. She was way out of Mitch’s league. Stop it, Karly. That’s not why you’re here.

  “I wanted to call you,” Pilar continued, oblivious to Karly’s inner turmoil. “I’ve asked him a couple of times to invite you over, but he said you two weren’t in a good place right now.”

  “You can say that again,” Karly replied before thinking how the comment might sound to an outsider. To cover her slip, she took a drink of coffee, drawing strength from its warmth. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected from Pilar, but it wasn’t this. “Our family is more than a little dysfunctional.”

  “Mine, too,” Pilar said with a self-deprecating laugh. An uncomfortable silence stretched between them before she said, “We’re getting married this summer. I’d really like you to be there. It’s just going to be the two of us and a few friends. You’d be the only family there.”

  A lump thickened in Karly’s throat. Damn. She’d come here expecting hostility, and now Pilar had thrown her off her game. Two choices loomed in front of her. She could be a bitch, or she could embrace the opportunity to repair her broken family.

  “I’d like that,” Karly replied. “But what does Mitch have to say about it?”

  “What does Mitch say about what?” Footsteps followed her brother’s voice into the kitchen. With his back to her, he opened the fridge and took out a quart of milk to pour himself a glass. She sat back in her chair and steeled herself for his censure, but it never came. He grabbed a cookie from the plate in front of her and leaned against the counter beside Pilar. He eyed her with familiar eyes, so like her own, yet entirely different in demeanor and character.

  “I asked her to come to the wedding,” Pilar said, smiling up at him. The softness in her eyes melted Karly’s heart. “You’re good with it, right?”

  “Sure,” he said with a casual shrug. “If she wants to.”

  “Mitchell, be nice.” The censure in Pilar’s voice brought a smile to Karly’s lips. Mitch could be such an ass when he wanted. At least Pilar didn’t take any of his shit. She lifted a notch in Karly’s esteem. Mitch straightened and cleared his throat, looking abashed.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I’d love it if you came, Karly.” His tone was unreadable, but she was sure a note of sarcasm lurked somewhere in there.

  “I’m surprised you want me there,” Karly replied, unable to hold back the bitterness in her voice. “After all the shitty things you said to me the last time we saw each other.”

  “I think I’ll go check on the kids. They should be waking up from their naps any minute.” Pilar slid out of her chair and, after one last warning look at Mitch, disappeared, leaving Karly and Mitch alone.

  He ate the last bite of his cookie, washed it down with the milk, and crossed his arms over his chest. They glared at each other for another minute before he sighed and took a seat in Pilar’s chair. Milk stained his upper lip, the way it had when they were kids. She tried and failed to hold back a smile.

  “What?” He scowled across the table at her. “Why are you laughing?”
<
br />   She shook her head and handed a napkin to him. “You’ve got milk on your lip. Seriously, Mitchell. You look twelve again.”

  He snatched the napkin from her hand and scrubbed the red-gold fuzz over his upper lip. When the milk was gone, his mouth twisted into a reluctant smile. “So what do you want? A loan? I’m broke, Karls.”

  “No. I don’t want a loan. Geez, Mitchell. You always expect the worst from people.” Although they shared similar physical features, the disparity in their mental outlook made it difficult to believe they carried the same genes.

  “They rarely let me down,” he said with a shrug. “I guess that’s what being a cop has done to me. I see ugliness on a daily basis.”

  “I went to see Emma the other day, and she was gone. If you listened to your voicemails or read my texts, you’d know that already.”

  “What do you mean, gone?” Alarmed, he moved to the edge of his chair and placed both hands on the table between them.

  “Just what I said. I got an attorney, and he said Emma’s been put into foster care.” The look of horrified bewilderment on his face softened her animosity. “You mean you didn’t know?”

  “How the hell would I know that?” The legs of his chair screeched across the linoleum floor when he stood abruptly. “Are you sure?”

  “Well, my attorney seems pretty sure. He also said Dad’s been in and out of jail for writing bad checks. I suppose you didn’t know that either.”

  “No. I didn’t.” He began to pace up and down the length of the kitchen. “I’ve been on leave, helping Pilar with the baby.” After a few more exhausting laps of the linoleum, he sank back into his chair and shoved a hand over the bristly top of his head. “Shit, Karls. I had no idea.”