Trust in Me (46 page)

“Hi, Linc.” Ron’s color was high and his eyes danced. “How’s the arm?”

“It itches.” Linc smiled at Ron. “You forget to pack your razor?”

Doc had drawn up to the booth. “We had a pact. No shavin’. But we did bathe, ma’am.” He glanced at Tucker. “Didn’t we?”

“Yeah, sure.” Tucker winked at Ron. “I think we did, anyway.”

Rolling her eyes, Beth matched their grins. “I saw the race on TV. It was exciting. Especially at the end.” She was trying very hard to keep her eyes off Tucker. With a few days growth of beard, in his racing cap and jeans and a T-shirt, he looked so good her body tingled at his nearness. Instead she focused on the obvious closeness among the three men.

“I can’t believe I was there, Mom. You shoulda seen how these guys were treated. Like royalty.”

Doc said, “That’s a stretch.” He glanced around the diner. “Gerty here?”

“No. She went home.”

“Just as well,” he said, scrubbing his hand over his beard.

“Come on, old man, I’ll get you cleaned up before you see your girl.” He smiled at Beth. “Thanks for lettin’ us take Ronny.”

Beth nodded. She longed to touch him. Just for a second.

Doc turned to Ron. He held out his hand and Ron gave him one of those handclasps that was more of a gesture of affection than a shake. “Good to have you along, boy.”

“Thanks, Doc. I’ll never forget it.”

Doc gave him a sideways glance. “Be careful what you tell your mama about.”

Ron looked at him quizzically.

“You know, ’bout those naked dancin’ girls.”

Ron laughed.

Tucker had stood back. When Doc eased away, he approached Ron and held out his hand, too. “Take care, kid.”

It was like a freeze-frame in a movie. Ron looked at Tucker for a long moment then glanced at his outstretched hand. And as Beth watched, her son bypassed the hand and enveloped Tucker in bear hug usually reserved for her, Margo, Annie or maybe Linc.

Tucker’s face showed surprise as he clasped Ronny back. Then his eyes closed as if he was savoring the moment. Finally he drew back, and without a word, left the diner.

Ron watched him go. Hands stuck in the pockets of his jeans, his back to Linc and Beth, he stared after Tucker. Then he turned to his mother. “I gotta tell you something.”

Willing back the emotion, she said, “What, honey?”

“I know it wasn’t his fault.”

Nobody needed to ask
what
.

Finally Linc spoke. “Good. It’s important to know that.”

“There’s something else.”

“What?” Beth asked.

“I jumped the gun accusing you and him of...that something was going on. I hated him at first, that’s why I didn’t want it to happen.”

“Okay, honey.”

“But later, I was afraid he was being nice to me, just to get to you. Just to make you like him.”

“Tucker likes you for yourself, Ronny. So does Doc.”

“I guess. I mean, it was pretty clear this weekend. I’m just trying to apologize for believing it was something else. Something to do with you.”

Bravely, like she’d had to face everything in her life, she said, “It wasn’t me, honey. It was you.”

“I know.” He leaned over and kissed her again. “Thanks for being honest. And patient.”

She gripped her coffee cup. “You’re welcome.”

“Can I go over to Lily’s?” he asked, all teenage boy now.

“If you shave first.”

“Naw. I want her to see this.” He rubbed his jaw.

“Okay. I’ll drive you.”

“No, I’ll call her from the office. She can come and get me.”

Beth nodded, grateful when he disappeared into the kitchen. She let down her guard with a big sigh. “So, I guess that’s that.” She stared after her son. “I can’t risk anything with Tucker because Ron seems to need him now, more than me.”

Linc reached over and took her hand. “I’m sorry, Bonnie.”

“It’s okay. I knew it before, anyway. This just confirms it.”

“Reality sucks, though, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, it sucks. Big-time.”

Chapter 27

JOE slowed to a stop on the sidewalk in front of Annie’s house and absorbed the sight of her in the front swing, wearing a light gray DanceWorks fleece shirt and shorts, reading a book. A cup of coffee lay within reach on the small table. The birds chirped around him, and the smell of newly mowed grass and summer flowers filled the air. “Well, if that isn’t
the life of Riley
, I don’t know what is.”

Smiling, Annie looked up. “Please. Stop with the sayings. I can’t bear any more.” She straightened and motioned for him to come up to the porch. Every morning, regardless of how many had passed, he waited for the invitation. He’d run like the dickens around town, then cool down and mosey on by here. He was sweaty and grimy, but she didn’t seem to care. He jogged up the few steps.

“Coffee, or water first?”

“Both. I can get them.”

“Nope, sit.” She stood and, setting her book down, darted into the house.

While she was inside, he did a few leg stretches, and reveled in the beautiful June morning.
Take your pleasure where you can, Joe. It’s important.
Thankfully, he’d learned to heed Pete’s words and was grateful for the day, as well as Annie’s kindness.

“Here you are.” She handed him a huge tumblerful of ice water and set his coffee on the table beside hers. The mugs knocked against each other; there was something about them nestled together that made his heart catch.

“Thanks.” He sipped the water, staring out over the grass. “Lawn looks good.”

“Thanks for planting those bushes. You and Matt did a good job.

Joe gave her a long-suffering look. “How
is
the Grinch who stole Christmas today?”

Annie smiled, despite the fact that she too was worried about their suddenly moody son who didn’t want to talk much these days and seemed reluctant to spend time with his father. She settled back onto the swing. “Still asleep. Faith’s up, though.”

Joe dropped down onto a comfortable wicker chair. “Oh, good. Maybe we can cook breakfast together.” Since that morning with Rosa, Joe had stopped by every day after his run to see the kids. About a week before, he’d started cooking breakfast when Annie admitted she didn’t relish preparing that meal.

Unfortunately, it was also three weeks ago that Matt had clammed up. He wasn’t overtly hostile, just reserved and unhappy.

“Sorry. Faith’s already eaten. Rosa’s picking her up any minute for the end-of-the-year picnic at the playground today.”

“Ah.” He glanced up at his son’s window. “So, I probably won’t have any takers for my mystery omelet, will I?”

She wasn’t fooled by his light humor. “You’re on the rack about him, aren’t you?”

Joe nodded. “I just can’t figure it out. Ever since the episode with Sam DeMartino. You sure Matt isn’t upset that I spent the night here?”

“Joe, you were gone by the time he got up. But even if he did know you stayed over, why would that be a big enough thing to make him pout all these weeks?”

“I don’t know.” He swallowed hard.

Annie shrugged. “Maybe it’s just typical adolescent angst.” Again the mischievous little grin. “You need to
roll with the punches
, Dad.”

His eyes narrowed on her, then he reached out for the book she’d been reading. Its title was
Behind the Words
. “No, fair,” he said, unconsciously parroting Faith. “You guys got a new book.”

“I—”

“Dad-dy.” A cyclone in pink and white whirled out the door and into his arms. He hugged Faith ardently, tweaked her nose and tugged at the straps on her overalls. “Aren’t you the
Eager Beaver
this morning.” Joe and his daughter vied for who could get a saying in first. Mostly he let her win. Today, he felt the urge to tease her.

“No fair.” She scanned him. “You don’t exactly
smell like a rose
, Daddy.”

“Hey, quick thinking, sweetheart.”

A car pulled into the driveway. “Here’s Lisa.” Climbing off his lap, Faith pulled on a pink Barbie backpack and added purple sunglasses to her bright outfit. “I got a picnic today.”

He yanked on her pigtails, grateful for her constant love. And ever since Annie had told him the truth about her conception, he thanked God every day for that gift. “I know. I hope you have fun.”

“Will you pick me up?”

As always, he glanced at Annie for approval. She nodded. “Sure. What time?”

Telling him one o’clock, Faith scrambled to the steps and bumped into Rosa. “I’m ready, Mrs. DeMartino.”

“Okay, honey, get in the car. I want to say hi to your mom and dad.”

Joe noted Rosa looked tired today. But at least the haunted expression was gone from her eyes. “Good morning.”

Annie and Joe exchanged greetings with her. “You all right, Rosa?” Joe asked.

“Yeah.” She glanced at the car and lowered her voice. “We heard from Sam last night.”

Alert, Joe straightened. “Is he in town?” The police had not arrested Sam that night three weeks before; Rosa had changed the locks and gotten a restraining order, but he hadn’t been heard from since.

“No, he’s upstate with his brother. There’s a racetrack there where he’s working.”

“Linc can have the police arrest him up there.”

Rosa shook her head. “I don’t want that, not if he doesn’t bother us again.”

“Think this through, Rosa. You need to consider all the angles.”

“I will.” She smiled when the horn tooted. “I’ll talk to you later.” The demure woman descended the steps. Joe stared after her, gripping the chair’s edge.

“She reminds you of it, doesn’t she?” Annie’s voice was soft.

“Every time I see her.” He drew in a deep breath. “But it’s important not to forget.”

“Maybe.” Annie breathed in the morning air. “But not today. It’s too beautiful out.”

Today.
Mention of the significant date made him go still.

She got up to sit on the thin porch railing. “The weather was just like this fifteen years ago today.”

“Yes, it was.”

“But it wouldn’t have mattered. I couldn’t wait to marry you.”

He closed his eyes briefly, picturing her in the delicate lace and satin that graced her body. Seeing her eyes brim with love and acceptance, both of which he’d betrayed. The feeling of loss washed over him, threatened to drown him.

Reaching up, she pulled on a tree branch. The yellow forsythia blossoms gleamed in the sun. Several fell onto her. She shook her head to dislodge them.

He crossed to her and brushed the petals from her hair. She smiled, and his hand laced through the thick strands.

From the corner of his eye, he saw the newspaper delivery boy ride by on his bike and, like an NBA player, vigorously toss the
Gazette
to the porch. The loud thud against the front door startled Annie. She tipped backward and he grasped reflexively onto her hair to keep her from falling.

“Ouch,” she said as she grabbed onto the railing.

“Leave her alone!” The youthful voice was followed by a slap of the screen door.

Startled, Joe turned.

Matt’s eyes focused on Joe’s hand in Annie’s hair; then he flew across the porch and grabbed onto his father. He said raggedly, “I won’t let you hurt her, ever again.”

Ever again.

Joe stared at the anger and contempt in his son’s eyes. Ludicrously, the phrase
driving a stake through his heart
ran through his head; it couldn’t have been more appropriate.

“He wasn’t hurting me, Matt.”

Matt’s gaze swung from Joe to Annie. “Tommy says that’s what his mother told
him
, too.”

“Tommy?” Annie gulped back a gasp.

There was a long, ugly pause. “I know, Mom.” He raked Joe with a disgusted glance. “Tommy heard Dad and his mother talking. He told me all about it that night he stayed over.” Like a grown man, Matt held Joe’s gaze. “I know what you did to my mother.”

o0o

ANNIE watched Joe deflate. His strong shoulders slumped, and his six-foot-plus height seemed to dwindle. She glanced at her son, whose stance, on the contrary, had become taller, more belligerent. Her little defender, come to rescue her. It made her so sad her heart ached in her chest.

“Matt,” Joe finally said. “We need to talk about this.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He looked at his mother. “You okay?”

“Yes. Your father wasn’t hurting me, Matt,” she repeated.

“I’m going in.” The boy turned to leave.

Joe just stood there, like a condemned man, watching his son.

But Annie sprang to her feet and grabbed Matt’s arm before he got inside. She tugged hard. “Wait, Matt.”

He stopped.

“Come and sit out here for a minute.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Well I want you to.” When he hesitated, she said, “As your father can testify, you can’t squelch your feelings. They’ll surface somehow. Maybe in ways you don’t mean, or you don’t like.”

Matt whirled around. “Aren’t you mad at him?”

Thoughtfully, she stared at the almost-man before her. What she said to him could be crucial to his health and well-being for all his life. “I was. For a very long time.”

“Yeah, well, so am I.”

“That’s okay. But you should be mad at the person who left here six years ago, not the one standing before you.”

Again Matt scanned Joe with disgust. “He’s the same man.”

“No, honey, he’s not.”

Annie could see the deep doubt on her son’s face. But behind it, in his Murphy eyes, also flared the need, the
desire
to believe in his father.

She looked to Joe. His expression was stone-cold blank. He was shell-shocked. “Joe, you need to talk to him.”

As if coming out of a trance, Joe straightened. “Of course.” He focused on Matt. “Is this what’s been bothering you for the last few weeks?”

Matt nodded.

“I wish you’d told me.”

No response.

“But it doesn’t matter. What matters is that you understand what happened. Why it was so wrong.” Joe drew in a deep breath, more in control now. “And the fact that I’ve changed.”

Right before their eyes, Matt became a little boy again. He looked down at his feet and kicked his bare toe on the porch decking. “I read about it.”