Shame the Devil (Portland Devils Book 3)

by Rosalind James

  Yeah, he didn’t know how much longer they were going to wait.

  Owen shook hands with Oscar, and clapped him on the back, too, holding his fire a little so he wouldn’t knock the old guy down. Oscar had managed to point out, in the short ride over here, that Owen had gone fishing with him on the weekend when he’d taken Dyma to prom. He hadn’t actually said that Harlan was a worthless pretty boy, but it had definitely been implied.

  After that, though, and a kiss of Annabelle’s cheek and one for Jennifer, since she was his girlfriend’s mother—that still boggled Harlan some—he came for Harlan. He gave him a strong, fierce hug, pounded him on the back, and said, “How you doing, man?”

  “Good,” Harlan said. “Good.”

  Owen had called, after they’d found his mom, and offered to come out. He’d called a few times since, too, supposedly to pick Harlan’s brain about the Wyoming football camp he’d be running at the end of the month, which Harlan always went down and helped with. In reality, though, Owen had been doing that camp for three years now, and he didn’t have that many questions. It was an excuse to check on him, that was all.

  That part of Harlan’s brain was mostly numb now. He wondered at times why that was. You had to be able to compartmentalize to play sports as a pro, sure, or you’d never make it. You couldn’t have off days or indulge in moods, not if you wanted to stay in the game. That was part of it. This time, though, he wasn’t just compartmentalizing when he was training. He was doing it almost all the time. Just … not going there. Sometimes, he knew Jennifer wanted to ask, and he was uncomfortable that he wasn’t feeling more.

  That spot didn’t hurt. It wasn’t sore when you touched it. He just didn’t feel anything, other than that one time late at night, when Jennifer had been asleep, which had felt terrible. He was glad, honestly, to be numb. He’d just as soon stay that way.

  Which was why, now, he asked Owen about the ranch, about Dane, about the boys, and didn’t let him ask anything. Let Owen ask Jennifer about the baby. That spot, he could touch. That spot felt nothing but good.

  They headed inside, and Dyma said, all but skipping along, “You guys should have seen Owen at my prom. He was so awesome.”

  “Which means,” Owen said, “that I wasn’t a jerk, and I talked to the guys like a normal person. The bar was pretty low.”

  “It was not,” Dyma said. She had hold of his arm like she didn’t want to let it go, and the look in Owen’s eyes sent off every kind of danger signal in Harlan’s mind. It might be a mismatch, age-wise, money-wise, and so forth, but he could tell it didn’t feel that way to Owen. For a smart guy, he could be pretty stupid about his heart.

  Then he forgot about that, because Dyma peeled off to go line up with the graduates and the rest of them got to the gym, and he felt a couple thousand eyes on him. He’d dressed the same way as Owen, in what you’d call “NFL formal.” Dark Levi’s, white button-down, expensive jacket, custom boots. He’d gotten a haircut, too, and this time, he had let the guy shave a couple lines into it.

  Post-apocalyptic, Dane’s wife had said. Tough. Maybe a little bit bad. He’d gone for it. He’d gone out of his way, in fact, to look full-on Viking, because the better he looked, the more jealous these women would be of Jennifer, and he wanted them jealous. He made sure he held her hand, too.

  Maybe that thought wasn’t worthy of him, but he didn’t think so. He figured maybe half of them would be pleased that she looked so happy, that she was glowing, that her life had worked out after that rough start. Half of the ones who cared at all, anyway. He only wanted to make the ones feel bad who should feel bad. He figured that balanced out his karma points.

  He forgot about that, too, then, because he heard a piercing whistle from somewhere up in the bleachers and the roar of a quarterback shouting, “Eleven! Hey!”

  Orbison, waving from the nosebleed section. And Dakota with him.

  Jennifer said, “They came.” Sounding joyful. Sounding amazed. Hurrying up the wooden steps with a clack of heels, forgetting anything she might have been thinking about showing off, about winning.

  Winning would never matter to her as much as that her friends had showed up for her daughter’s graduation. And that was why she’d always win.

  Life could knock you down. It could roll you around down there in the mud and the pain until you could barely stagger to your feet again. It couldn’t take your family, though, and it couldn’t take your friends. Not if you were the kind of person who held on. And Jennifer could never be anything else.

  She’d cried. Of course she had. She’d wept into a tissue as Dyma had marched up there, so new and shiny, with her High Honors gold cord around her neck. As she’d paused on her way across the stage and waved her diploma at all of them, her smile so bright, it filled the gym. As Owen had stood and clapped and roared like he was yelling to the offensive line, not caring who was watching.

  Her baby. She held the moment inside her heart and thought, Look what we did, Mama. Look at this beautiful girl we raised. All those sacrifices you made, when you should have been done. All the times you stood up for me. All the times you told me I could do this, that I was smart, that I was strong. I wish you could see this day. I wish you could know how happy I am right now.

  She turned to her grandfather and saw the slow tears rolling down his face, and she put her arms around him, held him tight, and said, “Look at our baby girl. Mom would be so proud. She’d be so happy. I wish she was here to see this.”

  He patted her hand, took a tissue from her, wiped his eyes, and said, “She is. She’s right here. She knows.” And she cried some more, so hard, in fact, that she had to stand in an endless line afterwards to use the girls’ bathroom and fix her makeup. During which time everybody was very, very nice to her. She tried to be cynical about that, but she couldn’t be. She was flying.

  There were eight of them at dinner, because Blake and Dakota joined them. Almost the same group that had eaten her lasagna on that Saturday evening when Harlan had showed up to tell her that he was going to take care of the baby, and he was going to take care of her. The night he’d told her he wanted her to move in.

  She’d been so scared. So uprooted. It had felt like the scariest gamble she’d ever taken, and yet—here they were. On a terrace overlooking the lake, eating delicious things while the endless North Idaho twilight lingered over the lake and the mountains, all sapphire and gold.

  Owen had just given Dyma her a graduation present. Earrings, a gift Jennifer somehow knew he’d pondered over during long hours riding the fenceline, figuring out what would be acceptable. What would let him express his feelings, but not be too much.

  They’d come in a red box with Cartier stamped in gold, but the chunky white-gold half-hoops with a tiny diamond set into each were a little industrial-looking, a little funky. Dyma was hugging Owen, kissing him hard, and putting them into her ears then and there, and Owen sat there like a gratified boulder and looked pleased as punch.

  Jennifer would bet anything that he’d wanted to give her a new car instead. She appreciated the restraint.

  Dyma was talking now, using her hands, her face alight, and the look on Owen’s face almost hurt to see. Sure, he looked like he was thinking, This girl is adorable, and I want to put her in my lap and kiss her for hours. He also looked like he was thinking, I’m so crazy about this girl, and so proud. She couldn’t be wrong about that.

  Dyma said, “And, Mom. Amber Duckworth texted me that her mom Googled everything you had on. While she was supposed to be watching the graduation! She said all the moms were texting each other that your bracelet cost eighteen thousand dollars, and your purse was something like twelve hundred, and your shoes were whatever. They were trying to figure out the necklace, too, but nobody got a good enough look. Can you believe that? Like they’re all playing The Price Is Right, when they’re supposed to be having elevated thoughts about their babies growing up. And seriously, Harlan? Eighteen thousand bucks? Way to make a statement.”


  “Yep,” he said. Sounding lazy. Sounding casual. “A woman only turns thirty-five once. Just like she only graduates from high school once.” He pulled out the tote from under his chair and passed the package over. “From Annabelle and me. Happy graduation.”

  It was a new laptop. A MacBook Pro.

  “Wow,” Dyma said. “Wow.” She was, for once, speechless.

  “If you’re going to school in engineering,” Harlan said, “you need a better computer. Owen said this one was right. Good for graphics and all.”

  She came around the table and hugged him, then Annabelle, and said, “This is the best day. Thank you. I didn’t think the actual graduation part would mean that much, but it felt like a really big deal. So did you cry, Mom? You looked like you cried.”

  “Of course I cried,” she said. “I cried like a … a faucet. I was awfully proud, baby girl. You should be proud of yourself, too. You worked so hard.”

  “Not as hard as you,” Dyma said, back in her chair again. “I mean, sure, I worked at Burger King and all, and that wasn’t exactly a picnic, but most of school wasn’t that hard. I have a feeling college is going to be a lot harder. What do you think, Owen?”

  “I think you’re right,” he said. “But I’m pretty sure you’ve got this. Even though you might not always be the smartest person in the room.” He smiled at her. “Maybe the second smartest sometimes. Never mind. Competition builds character.”

  “I wish Grandma had been there, though,” Dyma said. “I missed her a lot. You know she’d have had something funny to say. She’d have loved all the Googling.”

  “You’re right,” Jennifer said, and pulled the wrapped box from her tote. “I thought she should be here, too. That’s why my graduation present to you has a little bit of her in it.” And then slid the box across to Dyma and held her breath.

  Dyma opened it, as excited as Christmas morning, and pulled out the bracelet that rested on a pad of cotton wool.

  It wasn’t from Tiffany, or from Cartier, either, but it had love inside. A cuff made of bands of sterling silver, antler, turquoise, and dark, polished wood, with a little diamond embedded off-center, like the first star in the night sky. Jennifer said, “It’s the diamond from Grandma’s ring. I had the artist put it in there so you can have her with you all the time, telling you how much she believes in you and how much she loves you. When it gets hard, when you doubt yourself … remember who you are, and where you came from.”

  “Mom.” Dyma had teared up. “Thank you. This is …” She put the bracelet on her wrist. “It’s beautiful. It’s …” The tears started for real, and Jennifer handed over a tissue. That was a Mom job for sure, having extra tissues in your purse.

  Dyma cried a little, and Owen put his arm around her and held her while she did it. Jennifer felt a pang of sadness that she wasn’t the first person her daughter turned to for comfort anymore, and then realized that this was right. This was the way it should be.

  When Dyma was done, she wiped her eyes and said, “She’d have told you how great you did, too, Mom. She thought you hung the moon and stars.”

  “That’s a mom’s job,” Jennifer said through a throat that was closing yet again. “That’s the main job.”

  “So did it feel awesome to have Harlan there?” Dyma asked, blowing her nose one more time, but getting her bounce back the way she always would. “All those bitchy ladies being so jealous? Didn’t they used to call you names and things?”

  “You know,” Jennifer said, “it feels like a long time ago now. It hurt for a long time, but I was just thinking tonight, when I was standing in line for the bathroom, that I was once in a stall in that same bathroom, pregnant with you, hearing girls talk about me, saying things that felt like they corroded my soul. I thought afterwards that I should have come out of the stall and confronted them, but at the time, I could no more have done that than I could have flown to the moon. And tonight, it just seemed … over. Everybody was a lot younger then. And I’ve had a great life.”

  “Exactly,” Dakota said quietly, because Dakota had gone through nearly the same thing. Jennifer had never mentioned it, just like Dakota hadn’t about her, but they both knew it.

  She had to tell Dakota how happy she was for her, sometime tonight. Quietly, in case it was a secret still, but she had to give her a hug.

  “So living well is the best revenge?” Dyma asked. “Is that it?”

  Blake shifted restlessly in his chair, and Jennifer knew why. He was fiercely protective of Dakota. He’d fought for her. She was pretty sure he’d have died for her. Once, she’d had her own share of jealousy about that. Which was why she said, “No. I think being happy is the best revenge, because you don’t need revenge anymore, once you’re happy. Once you’re …” She spread her hand out, saw the flash of gold from her bracelet, felt the baby move inside her, the flutters stronger now, and tried to think of the words. “Not happy, exactly. More … content. Strong in yourself.”

  “Maybe it’s this,” Owen said. “Which you should enjoy, Dyma, because it’s the Tao. ‘Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.’”

  “Wow,” Dakota said. “I have to think about that, but it feels true.”

  “Yeah,” Blake said. “It does.”

  “That’s it, Mom,” Dyma said. “That was the way Grandma loved you. And that’s the way you’ve always loved me. Like … there’s not sand under my feet. There’s rock. There’s always been rock. And so you know—I know that. And I love you, too.”

  Well, yeah. Jennifer cried again. If your life added up to your memories … this day was one she’d add.

  And then there was the moment at the end of dinner. When Owen stood up and said, “Can I have a couple minutes of your time, Jennifer?”

  Oh, boy. What was this? She tried to marshal her arguments, then remembered her resolve. This wasn’t hers to say. She’d made her decisions at fifteen. She had to let Dyma make hers at nineteen.

  If they don’t ask for your advice, she told herself, don’t give it. That’s how you get asked for advice the next time. And headed down to the lower terrace with Owen’s careful hand under her elbow.

  When they got there, he waited a second, presumably gathering his thoughts, then said, “I don’t want to do anything to cause you pain. Seems to me you’ve had enough pain.”

  All she thought was, You are the sweetest man. She put a hand on his enormous arm and said, “I appreciate that. But I don’t expect to never have pain, you know. Go on and say it, whatever it is.”

  He said, “I know how you’ve felt about a … a relationship between Dyma and me. A sexual relationship. For the record, I’ve felt a little bit the same way.”

  “You don’t sleep with high-school girls.”

  “Yeah. But honestly … I’m not sure how much longer I’m going to be able to hold out.”

  She took a minute. She wanted to get this right. When she thought she had it, she said, “I think you should follow your heart and your … your honor. I’m confident in both of those.”

  He sighed and looked out over the lake. “If it helps, I’m pretty sure she’s going to break my heart. She’s got a lot of life to live. I’m not positive she’s going to end up wanting to live it with me. But I can’t seem to help myself.”

  “You love her.”

  He smiled, a wry twist of his mouth. “Yeah. She kind of … hit me, from the moment I first saw her.”

  “The thunderbolt.”

  “The thunderbolt. And I can’t shake her. I’m not going to take her away from her goals. I don’t think I could if I wanted to, and I don’t want to, at least my better side doesn’t. But seems I’m on this ride, and I’ve got to take it as far as it goes.”

  She put her arms around him, then, and gave him a hug. How could she not? After a startled moment, he hugged back. It was basically hugging a mountain, but even mountains had feelings. She pulled back, finally, and said, “You’re a good man. I want good th
ings for you. And I trust you with my daughter.”

  He blew out a long breath. “Thanks. That means a lot.” A smile in his voice, then, as he said, “And I think we’d better head back up there. Harlan looks like he doesn’t know what to think. Never knew him to be a jealous guy. Laid-back guy, yeah. Casual guy. Not sure he feels that way now. And so you know—he’s solid. If he says it, you can trust it. Not everybody’s a decent guy. He is.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “I see why the two of you are friends. And you’re right.” She tried to laugh, even though the whole day had her close to tears almost every second. “We’d better go back up there. It’s a party. No. It’s a celebration.”

  59

  Unfinished Business

  On a Thursday morning over a month later, Jennifer got a call at work.

  She thought it was Harlan. It felt like Harlan. She’d never been a superstitious person, but this pregnancy, or her life now, or … something—was changing her.

  It was Annabelle, so she’d been close.

  Jennifer said, “Hey. How’s it going? You on break?” Annabelle and Dyma had found summer jobs at Voodoo Donuts, “since,” as Dyma had put it, “that’s about the most Portlandia thing ever. Plus, vegetarian, and how am I supposed to work at Burger King anymore? Do you know how the fast-food industry sources their meat? Drug-resistant bacteria, anyone?”

  Annabelle said, “Jennifer? Uh …” Then an indrawn breath, and Jennifer’s blood ran cold.

  Harlan. Something had happened. He’d been spending some time in Wyoming over the past few weeks, helping Owen with his football camp before training camp started next week. He’d been sorry to go, and, she thought, a little excited to go, too. “Guess I’ll get some dad pointers,” he’d said when he’d kissed her goodbye at the airport this latest time. “Get Owen to let me work with the little guys, maybe.”

  She took a breath of her own and said, “Annabelle. What’s happened?”