by Anna Adams
“No.” She stopped speaking, but he heard her breathing. Hard. “No matter what you say, I won’t believe you anyway, and that means I can’t trust you with Ben.”
“I guess I deserve that, but you don’t get to decide whether I see my son. You left me once because I wasn’t good enough for you.” How could she believe anything else, now? How could he make her believe she might be wrong? “I stayed away because I thought you were right, but this time I do know what I’m losing, and I will find a way to stop this mess I keep making.”
He heard a rustle against the phone, and a sniff, as if she were trying not to cry. “I knew I couldn’t believe you, and I’ll make sure Ben isn’t ever alone with you.”
“I never drank when Ben was here.” His insides churned with those bitter swallows of wine and the deepest regret he’d ever known.
“I won’t ever make it easy for you to see him again. I only called because of him. He’s been crying since we left. He thinks he did something wrong, and that’s why he can’t see you. When you’re sober, you had better call him back.”
“I will.”
“And only when you’re sober.”
“Lilah, I know you don’t believe me, but...” He stopped. Making promises when his word was worth nothing. “I’ll call Ben and explain.”
“Don’t blame this all on yourself. He knows I’m the one behind our leaving Tennessee, and he’ll just blame me more, if you try to take the fault. It’ll only confuse him.”
“We’ll work this out.”
“I’m through trying to work things out. I’m sorry for Ben, and I don’t want him to see this as punishment, but we won’t be coming back to Tennessee, and he will not be alone with you again. Ever.”
“I’ll talk to him tomorrow.” This time he let her hang up. There was no point in fighting to make her believe she should give him one more chance.
He had to find a different way. He had to heal his wounds without the benefit of alcohol before he made Ben and Lilah dread him like he dreaded the sound of his own father’s name.
He might be too late with Lilah.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
LILAH HAD LEFT her phone on the desk in the shop’s office. When it rang one Thursday afternoon about a month after she’d left Tennessee, she was with a customer. She couldn’t help thinking every call might be from Owen.
Because she was a fool, and as much as she didn’t want him to call, she longed to hear his voice. She didn’t trust him to take care of Ben. She knew he could never care more about her than he cared about the next bottle in his makeshift bar, but she couldn’t stop thinking about him.
She didn’t want to believe she could care for a man like Owen.
Nevertheless, they’d arranged for him to visit this weekend with Ben. Owen’s attorney had forced hers to agree Ben would return to Tennessee and that Owen would come get him, but she hadn’t heard a word about travel plans.
“I’ll take this desk,” Mrs. Peterson said, ignoring the phone’s chime and rubbing her hand over wood that looked and almost felt like soft brown butter. “Go ahead and tell me the price. You know I’ve been looking for one just like this for the past three years. Do your worst.”
“I can work something out for you.” Lilah turned the tag over. Mrs. Peterson had probably kept her in business the first year she’d been in Vermont, and she’d loved the items Lilah had shipped back from Tennessee. “I can offer you forty percent off, to thank you for everything you’ve done for the shop.”
The other woman raised both eyebrows. “You’ve changed, my sharp-eyed friend, but I won’t argue. Let’s run my credit card before you change your mind.”
They finished the purchase, and Lilah walked Mrs. Peterson to the door. Then she tried not to run to the office to check her phone. The missed call had been from Owen. Her pulse thumped despite all her best efforts to be sensible. Owen and his family had accused her of paranoia, but she’d always been right about him.
Yet, still she missed him. She was haunted by the memory of his bleak expression, watching her drive away. What might she have done in his shoes? And hadn’t she taken her favorite defensive position, running away?
He’d called Ben every day since they’d been back in Vermont. She’d spoken to him, and he’d been sober. Which didn’t mean he stayed that way after he hung up, but she actually hoped that was the case.
She hit the voice-mail icon. “Lilah,” his voice said, “I just wanted to let you know my mom’s coming to Vermont to pick up Ben. Celia will bring him back on Sunday night. Mom’s flying out of Knoxville at about three this afternoon, and she has your address. Let me know if any of this is a problem.”
Of course it was a problem. He’d interfered with her plans again, and she wouldn’t be able to see him to make sure he wasn’t drinking. She had to let her son spend time with a man who might start boozing the second Ben fell asleep.
That evening, Ben was bouncing all over the house while she packed his bag. She’d barely finished when the doorbell rang. Ben rushed ahead of her and dragged the door open.
“Grandma.” He threw himself into Suzannah’s arms.
She hugged him, her eyes squeezed shut with joy. “I’m so happy to see you, Ben.” As she looked up at Lilah, her good spirits drained away. “How are you?”
“Fine.” She searched for a way to ask the question most vital to Ben’s happiness and finally gave up on being subtle. “How is Owen?”
“Stone-cold sober since you talked to him on the phone after you left.” Suzannah’s expression suggested her own sense of guilt. “I check all the time. I don’t want him to lose access to his boy.”
“You check?”
“I visit him at odd moments. You understand why he does what he does?”
Lilah rubbed Ben’s soft curls. “Go get your coat and hat, buddy.”
“Okay. Don’t leave me, Grandma.”
Lilah quailed. He missed his father so much. “I’m going nowhere without you,” Suzannah said, “but we need to hurry. We have a flight home, little guy.”
“Has Gomer busted out again?”
“Not without the aid of his little henchman.”
“What’s a hintman?”
Even Lilah smiled—maybe in relief at the break in tension between her and Ben’s grandmother.
“I’ll explain on the way to the airport,” Suzannah said. She waited until his feet disappeared up the stairway. “I’m sorry about Owen, and I realize he’s responsible for himself, but you might give him a break, considering what his father and I did to him as a child.”
“This again? Did he send you to start a campaign for him?”
“He’d kill me for even bringing the subject up.”
Lilah glanced toward the stairs, listening for Ben. “I know his father treated you all terribly, and I also realize you neglected Owen and the other kids. But he’s Ben’s father. He makes his own choices.”
“I made mistakes,” Suzannah said, “that Owen is still paying for.”
“He should speak for himself.”
“He told me to stay out of his business and leave you and Ben alone. I’d like to do as my son asks for a change, but what if my experience could help, rather than causing more trouble for the people I love?” She literally wrung her hands. “The thing is, Lilah, I think we can know each other in the way women do who’ve been abused. You and I both endured harrowing experiences, but we survived. Same as Owen. The difference is, we both decided how to handle the fear we still feel. Owen doesn’t want to feel.”
“You’re not a psychologist, Suzannah, and we got nowhere with this conversation that night at your house.”
“This situation makes what I have to say more important. You’re part of our family now, and we all miss you, like it or not. You’re stuck with interference.” S
uzannah looked at her with compassion. “You were only a child when you were attacked. You’re still reacting as that child would. You’ve been hiding since then.”
“I was not afraid after the kidnapping,” Lilah said. “You don’t know me. If anything, I was reckless, especially when I met your son. And Ben is not a crutch to help Owen stop drinking. I hate every minute my son spends with yours.”
“You don’t.” Owen’s mother acted as if she possessed the wisdom of the ages. She looked into Lilah’s eyes, and Lilah found she couldn’t tear her gaze away.
“Suzannah, this problem is not between us. I don’t need you to analyze me. Besides, my lawyer tells me I can’t talk about it.”
“You and Owen should work this out together,” Suzannah said as Ben’s feet pounded overhead. “You need to make your own decisions.”
Fortunately, Ben came flying down the stairs before Lilah had to offer Suzannah the same blunt suggestion Owen had—to get out and stay out of her business.
* * *
OWEN LOOKED UP from the wooden goat he was carving to check the time. With the cast off, he’d started working on a birthday present for Ben. He’d expected his mother to call, saying they’d landed at least an hour ago. She wasn’t answering her cell phone either.
He crossed the small workroom to the fireplace and tossed in another log. It landed with a splash of red embers, and he prodded the other logs until the flames began to lick around the new fuel.
Laughter seemed to rise on the winter wind that always buffeted the small building. Owen hurried to the door in time to see his mother jogging across the lit field from the road, with Ben dancing at her side.
“Daddy,” he called, running to leap at Owen. “Your arm’s okay.”
“Yours, too. Everything’s perfectly okay now.” Owen hugged his son close, love and deep gratitude for this little boy lighting him up. Over Ben’s shoulder, he looked at his mother. “I tried to call.”
“I know.” She wiped at her forehead. “But I figured you’d ask me what I said to Lilah, and I thought I’d save us both that conversation.”
He grimaced. “I told you to leave her alone.”
“She told me that, too.” Suzannah stopped quickly, looking embarrassed. “Not in so many words, but we both knew the thought was there.”
Owen reached behind him for the door and pulled it shut. “I’ll take him back on Sunday night, Mom.” He patted her shoulder to reassure her. “Thanks for trying to help me out, but I need to handle this.”
“I wish you both would so that Ben doesn’t have to keep making this trip.” Suzannah turned, waving her hand over her shoulder. “I’m not saying another word. Not to either of you. Why would you consider the wisdom of someone who’s made plenty of mistakes herself?”
He’d made enough of his own, and treating Lilah like a hostage had been one of them. Another was pinning his sobriety to someone else’s welfare. He’d always said AA didn’t work for him, but he’d gone to a meeting the night Lilah had called him from Vermont. Turned out, AA did work, if you committed.
He pressed Ben’s head to his chin and kissed the little guy’s silky hair.
“Glad to see you, buddy.”
“Let’s go see the goats, Daddy. Gomer probably missed me.”
“We all missed you, buddy.”
“You can take a picture of me with Gomer. If Mommy sees I’m all right, she might not be mad at Tennessee anymore.”
“Mommy’s not mad at Tennessee. I did something I shouldn’t have done, and your mom is just worried about you.”
“You don’t do wrong things, Daddy.” Ben put both hands on Owen’s face and stared into his eyes.
He could lie to look better in his son’s eyes. He could try to explain he was a drunk who couldn’t stop drinking or that he’d finally taken charge to make the right decisions for himself. To make his own life better. So that the people he loved could depend on him, and he could feel worthy of their love.
“I did do something wrong, buddy, but I’ll try not to do it again. I don’t want to hurt you or your mother. I want to make you both happy from now on. You’re not in trouble, and Mommy doesn’t have to worry that I’ll make mistakes while you’re with me.”
Ben stared a little longer. Finally, he frowned. “I don’t get it.”
Owen hugged him tight. “You don’t have to. All you have to do is race me to see Gomer.” He set his son on the ground and tugged the sides of his knit cap around his ears. “Careful of the uneven ground, and don’t run into the stream.”
“I won’t.” And Ben was running as fast as his legs would carry him, laughing with happiness that floated into the chilly night air around him.
Owen loped along in his wake, his determination a thing of certainty rather than hope. No more pinning his future on the strength of his feelings for Lilah or his family or a job he needed, or even Ben. He had to be his own reason for getting his life back on track.
He and Ben spent the weekend starting on a tree fort that Ben would be able to play in come the spring. They took pictures, which Owen sent to Lilah without comment. He began to wonder if she’d lost her phone when she didn’t respond with a caution about letting Ben play with the hammer and nails and splinter-filled boards.
She didn’t respond at all, but she did call Ben on Friday and Saturday night and heard about their progress. Ben told her Owen would be bringing him back on Sunday.
“Can he stay for a while?” Ben asked after he’d relayed the news. He frowned a little at whatever she said. “Oh. Okay. I love you, Mommy.” He shoved the cell phone Lilah had placed in his small backpack into the zippered pocket on the front. “Daddy, are you too busy to visit me?”
“What?” Owen turned from the dishes he was washing after their meal. “I’m never too busy for you.”
“Mommy said so.”
Wishful thinking on Lilah’s part. “She doesn’t know I’m not as busy as I was when she was here.”
“Then you can stay in Vermont? Mommy’s making my favorite cookies. You’ll like them.”
Cookies were certainly an enticement. “Not this time.” He was through forcing Lilah to put up with him. “But before too long, when I take you home, we’ll see if Mommy minds if I stay for a while.”
He had to prove to himself and to her that this wasn’t one more attempt that would fail. Every night, after Ben went to bed, Suzannah came down to stay with him while Owen went to AA meetings in a basement room at the courthouse in town.
Sunday afternoon, he boarded the flight with Ben, who fell asleep almost as soon as they pulled back from the Jetway. When they landed, Ben slept through the ride home, but he recovered his energy enough to bolt ahead of Owen to the front door of Lilah’s tidy Cape Cod.
She met Ben, as eager as Owen had been to have her son back with her.
Owen watched the two of them, hugging, happy to be together, Ben filling her in on everything he’d done in a stream-of-consciousness spiel that pleased Owen.
“Mommy, did you make my cookies?” Ben suddenly asked, as if remembering he hadn’t eaten in a few hours.
She nodded. “But you can only take one off the plate, buddy. I have dinner ready for you, too.”
He ran off, shucking coat and hat and gloves.
Owen waited, not expecting an invitation to come inside. “I’d like to say goodbye to him before I go.”
Lilah stood aside. “Why are you here? Is something wrong?”
He eased past her, strangely aware of her nervousness, of the way her gaze lingered on his face. He hoped he was hiding the hunger he felt, looking at her, searching for forgiveness, for some remnant of caring that he might not ever deserve again.
“Nothing’s wrong,” he said. “Except between us.” He braced himself to be thrown out. “Do you think we could talk after Ben
goes to bed? I can come back whenever you say, if you don’t want me to wait now.”
She measured him with cool blue eyes. She didn’t look worried, but that didn’t surprise him.
“You’re welcome to eat with us,” she said, but she looked away. “I’m not sure what Suzannah told you...”
“That she interfered. I’m sorry she did that, but I didn’t come to apologize for her.”
“Daddy, you want a cookie? Mommy’s are the best.”
Owen looked to Lilah, still searching for a cue as to how he should behave in her home. It would be so much easier to blame her for all this mess if he didn’t have a conscience.
“Your dad can have a cookie after dinner,” Lilah said.
Ben slammed his hands together, his eyes shining. “You’re staying? You’re friends again?”
Owen’s first instinct was to protect Ben with a lie, but that wouldn’t help if they went to court over his custody. He’d never understand how they could be friends and still fight each other. Owen’s attorney had warned him that the judge in their case might ask to speak to Ben, so there was no keeping the possible battle from his small son.
“We’ll always be friends,” Lilah said, startling Owen so much that he didn’t know what to say. “Because of you, Ben. Try not to worry.” She managed a smile, but the corners of her lips seemed to tremble. “Let’s eat. I made Ben’s favorite spaghetti again.”
“Daddy’s favorite, too.” Ben danced ahead of them.
After a second, without glancing Owen’s way, Lilah followed their boy.
Owen did what he meant to do from now on. He put one foot in front of the other and moved forward.
* * *
LILAH HARDLY BELIEVED her own performance. She got through dinner, offering Owen Parmesan cheese and coffee and smiles that barely went skin deep. At last, Ben began to yawn, and when she suggested bedtime, he demanded his father help him with his shower and his unpacking.
Lilah cleaned the kitchen, listening to footsteps overhead. Her fear was a living thing, expanding in her chest until it seemed to flow through her body.