Dark River Road (48 page)

“I don’t believe I know you, young man. Are you a former patient?”

“I’m your grandson.” He hadn’t meant to say it like that, but nothing so far had been like he’d thought it’d be or intended either. The woman named Bettie made a funny sound in the back of her throat, but his grandfather’s eyes cooled to frost.

“You’re mistaken.” His words were clipped, tone brusque. “I have no grandchildren.”

“I’m Carrie’s son.” Anger sparked when the doctor started to turn away, and he stepped forward, forgetting Mikey standing there, forgetting the dog and the open door and the woman named Bettie. “Don’t you goddamn turn away from me like you did her. I may not give a damn about you either, but you’re all Mikey has and by God, you’ll do what’s right for
him
.”

So much for tact. So much for all the careful words he’d planned to say.

Doctor Callahan paused, brows lowering over his eyes. “Bettie, call the police.”

Bettie stood as if frozen. Chantry’s hands knotted into fists. Shadow growled. It was that last that turned his grandfather’s attention toward Mikey and the dog at his side. For a moment he just stared at them so long that Chantry thought maybe he’d changed his mind.

But then he shook his head as if waking from a dream, and looked back up at Chantry, his tone fierce. “Get out of my house. Now.”

Shadow barked loudly, a warning snarl, and Chantry reached quickly for his collar to hold him. Mikey hadn’t said a word since bursting into tears, and now he just sat down hard on the stoop of the still open door, his braces banging against the frame.

“What on earth is going on out here?” a woman’s voice said, and Bettie turned toward her with a dazed expression.

“These children—”

“Are leaving,” the doctor snapped.

Chantry glared at him, anger and disappointment rising so hot and thick in his chest that he didn’t think he could say a word, not that it’d help anyway.

“But who are they, Michael?” The woman appeared just behind him, and when she saw Chantry she frowned. He knew how he must look, dirty and shabby and rough, with cast-off clothes and road dust. For a long moment she studied him; then the bewilderment in her eyes slowly altered to dawning recognition. But it was when she turned to look at Mikey that it must have hit her, and her hand rose to her throat, fingers brushing over the gold necklace she wore. “I know who they are,” she whispered then, “my God, I know . . .”

“Patricia, we don’t know anything of the sort.”

She turned to him, and there was a set to her jaw that reminded Chantry of Mama as she said quietly, “I know that I won’t allow you to deny these children like you have our daughter. I’ve spent too many years without Carrie to risk one more moment. No, if she’s finally put aside her anger enough to come back to us at last, our door will be open. To her and the children.”

Chantry said abruptly, “She’s dead. And I don’t want to be here anymore than you want me here. But Mikey needs you. He’s little yet, and his legs
 . . .
he needs to be here.”

For a moment no one spoke, though his grandmother sucked in a sharp breath and her brown eyes filled with tears. She put out a hand to him but he didn’t move to take it, just stared at her, uncertain of anything but that he was using his last reserves to be sure Mikey had a place.

“Did you know my mama?” Mikey asked from where he sat in the doorway, and she looked down at him. Then she knelt on the floor and cupped his chin in her palm.

“Yes, I knew your mama very well. A long time ago. You look so like her
 . . .
oh God.” Her voice broke on the last word, and suddenly she was sobbing, pulling Mikey to her, hugging him without regard to his dirty face or clothes, or the dog giving her a hard stare.

Chantry kept his eyes on the doctor. It all seemed to have taken hours, but only a minute or two must have passed. If he felt anything at hearing that his daughter was dead, he didn’t show it, but stood there rigidly, staring back at Chantry.

Then his grandmother was standing up, pulling Mikey with her, her voice still thick and shaky as she asked Bettie to please see there were clean linens on the beds, that they’d be staying in the upstairs guest rooms. Chantry didn’t move.

“I won’t be staying,” he said. “I just brought Mikey. He needs you. I don’t.”

Mikey immediately set up a howl and lurched toward him, his movements clumsy in the heavy braces. Clasping him around the middle, he buried his face in Chantry’s stomach.

“No, Chantry. If you go, I’m goin’.”

Chantry put a hand on Mikey’s head, letting his soft hair slip through his fingers. “You’ll be okay, sport. This is Mama’s mother. I wouldn’t leave you with anyone else.”

His grandmother put out her hand but didn’t try to touch him. “
Chantry
—of course. Why don’t you stay the night? It’s late. If you wish to leave in the morning, we won’t try to hold you.”

He wanted to. God, he was so tired. But his grandfather looked so stiff and disapproving, and he’d had enough nasty surprises not to trust that he wouldn’t wake up to police standing over him. He shook his head.

“It’s okay. Mikey’ll be fine once I’m gone. He’s just tired. And hungry.”

“All right, if you won’t stay the night, at least let me feed you. I’m sure you could use a good meal, and even your dog looks hungry.”

He dragged in a deep breath, wavering. Mikey’s arms tightened around his waist and he lifted a tear-stained face to look up at him. He blew out a sigh. “Okay. But I’m not staying.”

“That’s your decision. Come along, Mikey. It’s okay. Chantry’s coming with us. We’ll see what we can find in the kitchen.”

Chantry shot a wary look toward his grandfather, who’d glanced down at Shadow with a frown.

“I don’t allow dogs in my house,” he said, and Chantry narrowed his eyes.

“Then I ain’t coming in either.”

“Bring the dog, Chantry,” his grandmother said, and when her husband turned to look at her, she gave him a stare like Mama had used on Rainey more than once. It was a
Don’t argue with me
look that had always worked on Rainey, too.

Maybe if he hadn’t been so tired he’d have just done what he wanted and left right then, taken Shadow with him and walked away before he ended up talked into staying the night. But he was and he didn’t, and after a big meal of ham and turkey and stuffed eggs and four different kinds of dessert, his grandmother and Mikey persuaded him to stay at least one night. Just one. He’d be free to leave in the morning. So he let himself be talked into going upstairs, even though Shadow had to stay downstairs on a blanket in the laundry room. Some time in the night, the door opened to the guest room where he lay by himself in a bed with clean sheets and a thick carpet on the floor, and Shadow slipped in to leap up on the mattress and curl up beside him. He sat up at once, but the door shut with a soft click. After a moment, he lay back down and hugged Shadow to him.

He didn’t want to fall asleep. He knew he should get up and leave before anyone got up the next morning, before Mikey offered more arguments, but he fell asleep before he could. When he woke, sunlight streamed in the windows and Shadow was gone. The smell of bacon frying made his stomach growl and explained Shadow’s desertion.

His head hurt, but he got up and dressed, then made the bed before picking up the backpack and going downstairs. Bettie was in the kitchen, Mikey at the table, swinging his legs and looking much better than he had the night before. He looked over with a smile, eyes bright.

“Hey, Chantry.”

“Hey, sport.”

“Pancakes. Syrup.
Maple
syrup. And bacon. Miss Bettie fixed it for us. She has a house out back where she stays, and she said she has two boys that are grown up now but I remind her of one of them. If you hurry up and eat, she’ll show us the pool. The
swimming
pool.”

“Uh huh.” Chantry slid Bettie a wary glance, but she only smiled at him and slid a few more pancakes onto a plate. “You know I’m not staying, Mikey.”

Mikey’s smile vanished. “But I like it here.”

“You’re staying. I’ll
 . . .
come back to see you.”

“You’re gonna miss my birthday? It’s in only fourteen days. But you ain’t never missed my birthday, Chantry.”

Chantry looked at Mikey. “Haven’t ever missed it,” he corrected after a minute, thinking of Mama and choices and consequences.

“Time later to make decisions,” Miss Bettie said then, and put a big plate of pancakes and bacon on the table. “It’s always easier to think when you’re not hungry. Besides, that monster of a dog is waiting for your leftovers.”

Shadow sat on his haunches by the table, eyes alert, nose quivering. A big blue ceramic bowl of water sat on the floor near the back door, with a smaller bowl beside it that had probably already held scraps. Miss Bettie looked like the kind of woman who’d be comfortable with dogs and boys.

“Okay,” he said after another moment of thought, lured by the sweet smell of maple syrup and bacon, “I’ll eat first.”

Mikey turned to Miss Bettie. “I’ll be seven in fourteen days. I’m nearly growed. Chantry said I could see the sharks one day when I’m growed, so I ‘spect pretty soon we’ll be doing that.”

“Sharks? So you like sharks, do you?”

“Yes, ma’am, I sure do. They just swim so easy, and everything in the ocean makes way for them to go by, just like they know sharks do what they want because they’re strong. I like that.”

“We have sharks over at the zoo,” Miss Bettie said then, and looked over at Chantry while she poured him a glass of cold milk. “Not as good as in the ocean, but pretty close.”

Mikey stared at her with eyes gleaming, and Chantry looked down at his plate. He knew what she was doing. It just wasn’t her choice. He ate without talking, listening to Mikey rattle on about sharks and how his stuffed shark had got burned up in the fire that killed his daddy, and how Shadow was a shark, too, but not the same kind.

“Mikey,” Chantry said, and gave him a warning look, “give it a rest.”

Silence fell. Miss Bettie went back to cooking, and put more pancakes on a plate in the middle of the table. The kitchen was bright and cheery, maybe because it was her domain, while the rest of the house just seemed cold and closed-up. Even the upstairs guest rooms had a vacant feeling to them, like no one really lived there.

He wondered where the doctor was, and why his grandmother wasn’t here, but didn’t intend to ask. The less he knew the easier it’d be to leave. He’d done what he’d set out to do, and Mikey would be cared for. If he’d had any doubts after meeting Mama’s daddy, meeting Mama’s mother had eased them. She’d take care of Mikey. She had that same fierce mama lion look in her eyes.

When he’d eaten and Shadow took care of any leftovers, he stood up from the table. Miss Bettie looked over at him and said briskly, “Well, I guess you’ll be on your way now.”

“Yeah. Guess so.”

Mikey didn’t say anything, just looked into his half-empty glass of milk. He’d known it’d be hard to leave him, but there were a lot of hard things he’d had to do. He stood awkwardly for a minute, uncertain how to say goodbye.

“Let me just fix you a few sandwiches to carry with you,” Miss Bettie said, and when he started to refuse, she added, “It’ll save money and time on the road. I’ll put in some food for the dog, too. Would that be okay?”

He blew out a heavy breath and shrugged. “Sure. Fine. I’ll just
 . . .
talk to Mikey a minute.”

“Go out on the veranda where you can have some room to yourselves. It won’t take me long to get you some food together.”

Sunshine warmed the flagstones on the porch Miss Bettie had called a veranda, and he jammed his hands in his pockets and leaned against a post while Mikey wobbled to a chair.

“Look, sport, I know you don’t want me to go but it’ll be better this way.”