Into the Garden

by Robert Hass

  He and Justin had cleaned and repaired the winding pathway of stone down the center of the garden. On either side of the path, they were planting an array of flowers and bushes to keep the blooms constant. Even now, ever-blooming lavender hung its head over the pathway and released a sweet scent on the wind.

  “Credit Mrs. Miller at the plant farm and some sage advice from Aunt Lydia.” Sloan sipped his tea. “And the photos she kept of weddings. I just hope we can finish the work in time.”

  Annie didn’t need to ask what he meant.

  “Justin’s learning a lot from you. Last night, I heard him explaining the details of propagating chrysanthemums.” Fingers stroking the cold, damp glass, Annie laughed softly at the memory. “Delaney pretended to be fascinated.” And Justin had puffed up with pride at his newfound knowledge.

  “He’s got a mind like a steel trap. Never forgets anything. You should watch him with the plants. He treats them like babies. I think the kid’s a natural.”

  Annie listened in gratitude as Sloan spoke with pride about their son. She knew she’d made the right decision. “Will you help me tell him?”

  Sloan’s gaze snapped to hers. “You know I will. What changed your mind?”

  “A lot of things. After you stormed out of here and I calmed down, I talked to Lydia. And I prayed about it.”

  Those blue irises burned with intensity. “Did God answer?”

  Sloan wasn’t being flip or sarcastic. Annie’s heart lifted with hope that Redemption’s bad boy would allow God to smooth the rough edges of his life as He’d done hers. She was a long way from perfect, but faith in God had given her a solid footing when life was crumbling around her.

  “Yes, He did.” The tea glass clinked as she set it on the round patio table. “Oh, not in an audible voice, but he brought some things to mind that helped me decide.”

  “Such as?” He drank deeply of his tea and set the glass carefully next to hers. Sloan might pretend casual indifference but his body language gave him away.

  “Justin didn’t pose the question to me. He asked you. He came to you, Sloan. I think that has to be significant. He wanted you to help figure things out, not me.”

  Sloan reached for the glass again but didn’t drink. “Kids aren’t always comfortable talking to their parents. Maybe he was embarrassed. Or maybe he didn’t want to embarrass you, especially if the rumor was wrong.”

  “Or maybe he trusts you more.” Her stomach ached to believe such a thing. “Things have been shaky between Justin and me since Joey left.”

  “Annie, he trusts you. He loves you. But right now, he’s an angry kid who doesn’t know what to do with his feelings. He even said he hates Joey.”

  Annie gnawed at her bottom lip. He’d said the same thing to her more than once. “I know.”

  “Was Joey—” Sloan’s fingers flexed against the glass “—abusive?”

  Joey had been a lot of things, but Annie thanked God he’d never hurt any of them physically. “No, never. He mostly ignored Justin, but he did the same with Delaney. Joey had his business, his friends. His family came last.”

  “That stinks.”

  “Yes, it does.”

  “Did he know that Justin wasn’t his?”

  “Yes. I made a lot of mistakes, Sloan, but not that one. Joey was the one person I told.”

  A muscle along one cheekbone jerked. “Why him?”

  Not for the reasons you probably think.

  “Joey came to my house the day after you left. He said he’d always loved me and wanted to be there for me.” She shrugged, remembering the shattered young girl she’d been. “He said all the right things, the things I needed to hear that day. I was heartbroken and scared and I blurted out the truth. He said he didn’t care. He would marry me anyway.”

  “And he did.”

  “Yes. But afterward when I began to show, he seemed embarrassed by the pregnancy. When anyone congratulated him on becoming a father, he would smile and go through the motions, but I could tell he was upset. He grew distant even before Justin’s arrival. Later, when Delaney was born, I thought things would be different. They weren’t. While I was in the hospital giving birth, he was with his girlfriend.”

  She didn’t know why she’d felt compelled to tell Sloan that humiliating piece of information.

  Sloan’s face was blank, so she wasn’t sure what he was thinking. Did he hate her for marrying Joey? Did he understand at all what she’d gone through? Did he even care?

  “No wonder the kid is angry.”

  Something warm and sweet turned over inside Annie and she fought it, knowing the feeling was for Sloan. At the least, she should avoid this man like the flu, not be leaning on his empathy. She still didn’t understand why he’d left without a word, nor had he made any effort to explain himself. Wasn’t that a sign that he had never really cared?

  The mother in her rose to the surface. She was not the important one here. Justin was. She could put her own heartaches aside for the sake of her child. Their child.

  “I don’t know what to do anymore.” She’d spent so much time praying for Justin, her knees were sore. If God didn’t give her an answer soon, she’d be crazy. “Now I’m scared of losing him completely.”

  Sloan reached for her hand and tucked it against his knee. Her pulse jumped, but she made no attempt to pull away.

  “Eleven is a vulnerable age,” he said. “What happens then can make or break you.”

  She suspected he was thinking of his own experience. Losing his mother had been a powerful turning point. “You turned out all right.”

  He gave a short, bitter laugh. “Did I? Then why have I spent my entire adult life without a relationship with my son? Why wasn’t I smart enough to consider you might be pregnant when I left?”

  “Beating yourself up isn’t going to resolve anything. Regardless of the lost years, today Justin needs you.”

  “I’m a stranger, Annie,” he said grimly. “But this isn’t about my mistakes or yours. It’s about Justin.” He swallowed, gaze blazing into hers with a fire that spoke of his feelings. “It’s about helping our son. What he needs is truth. And he’s going to get it.”

  She didn’t agree that Sloan was a stranger, but she wasn’t going to argue the matter. He and Justin had a natural bond. It was visible when they worked in the garden or played catch or joked with each other in a male way that made no sense to Annie but had them both grinning. Something inside Justin had instinctively gravitated toward his biological father. She’d been afraid at first, but now she’d begun to believe Sloan Hawkins was exactly what her child needed.

  As scared as she was of Justin’s reaction, she asked, “Will you come over tonight? I’ll have Delaney spend the night with my parents so we can talk to him freely.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  He squeezed her hand and went inside the house.

  Sloan’s insides felt as raw as hamburger meat. If a man could get a bleeding ulcer in one day, he’d gotten one. For those few minutes sitting beside Annie on the Hawkins’s veranda, looking out over the gardens as they’d done as teens, he’d felt…right, somehow. And he’d felt like a father worrying over his son.

  He’d known the moment he walked inside this house and seen Annie Crawford again that he wouldn’t leave unscathed. But he’d never imagined the tangled mess he’d discover—worse than the tangle of vines and weeds in the Wedding Garden.

  Where did a man begin to make up for years of absence? Would Justin even want an unknown father in his life? Perhaps the better question was would Annie allow it? She needed him now as moral support, but what about afterward?

  He slammed a fist into his palm.

  Who was he kidding? He couldn’t be a father even if Annie and Justin allowed it. Considering his home and business were in Virginia, he’d leave again someday. He’d never belonged in Redemption and still didn’t want to be here.

  No, that wasn’t entirely true.

  But true enough.

  Li
ke a prizefighter shadowboxing, he was jabbing himself to pieces with indecision and uncertainty.

  Frustrated, confused and antsy for the meeting tonight, he worked in the garden until Annie left for the day. Then he went inside, showered and headed for Aunt Lydia’s room. She’d only been awake once today when he’d popped in.

  This time her eyes were open. “Sloanie.”

  The boyhood endearment was barely a whisper.

  “Auntie,” he said, going to sit beside her. “What’s my best girl need?”

  The false cheer wasn’t lost on her.

  She lifted a weak hand and he covered the smooth skin with his. His sunshine tan against her indoor pallor saddened him. He didn’t know how he was going to handle losing this woman. She had been his anchor when the whole world had collapsed around him.

  “I need my boy to find happiness.”

  “I’m happy as a lark. Got a great life. A great business. The best aunt in the world.”

  “Sloanie,” she said again, the soft word a rebuke. He’d never been able to fool her. “I don’t have much time left. I love you so much. I don’t want you to be sad or angry when I go.”

  He bent to kiss her cheek, the knot in his chest tightening. He didn’t want to talk about this. “I love you, too.”

  “I have to tell you some things.” Her voice was weak and raspy with breathlessness.

  “Don’t tire yourself out. We can talk anytime.”

  “No, honey. Time is short. I must talk now.”

  “Don’t.” The word choked him.

  She slid her hand from beneath his to pat his arm. She’d always comforted him this way.

  “Sloanie, I’m not afraid of dying. I’m ready. Eager at times, but I don’t want to leave you alone and searching. You’ve searched your entire life for one thing or another.”

  And never found anything.

  Sloan wanted to fall against his beloved aunt and weep as he’d done as a child, but his distress would only worry her more, so he remained still. “Don’t worry about me. Take care of you. I want you well.”

  “I will be well soon, but not in the way you want. Heaven has no heart disease, no sorrow or regret.”

  The knot in his chest became a boulder. “Heaven should welcome you with open arms. You’re the most perfect person I’ve ever known.”

  “We don’t get to Heaven on our perfection. We get there on His. Remember that, baby. You can’t be bad enough or good enough. Just let go and let God take over. I’ve made my share of mistakes. Your daddy. Your mama. Ulysses. Yet Jesus forgave and loved me anyway.”

  He stroked her soft fingers calmly, but his belly jittered. His parents were not his favorite topics. And Popbottle Jones? He had no idea where to go with that. “You didn’t make their choices for them.”

  His father had chosen to commit murder. His mother had chosen to leave behind a scared child in exchange for a man.

  “No, but I spoiled my brother. Clayton was a late in life baby. I was nearly grown. He thought the world revolved around him. When he went to prison, I should have taken in you and your mama. But she was a proud woman and I was angry, blaming her for Clayton’s downfall.”

  “You took me.”

  “Yes.” She patted again, radiating the light of love. “You were the joy God sent. He filled the emptiness in my spirit, but you filled the emptiness in my heart.”

  His eyes began to burn. “I was no prize.”

  “Yes, you were. But life hurt you and I couldn’t fix it.”

  He couldn’t argue with that. “I’m a big boy now.”

  “Yet you never wanted to come home. You never wanted to face your pain or your past. You still carry those old wounds.” Her breath was short and Sloan wanted to make her stop, but she seemed determined to talk—as though she was running out of time. “God can set you free, my darling boy. He can heal your wounds. I can’t leave without telling you. Promise me you’ll give Him a chance. He’s such a good Father.” Her frail hand gripped his arm with surprising strength. “Promise me.”

  What else could he say? Heart breaking, fighting tears, he nodded.

  “I promise.”

  Sloan parked his bike in the driveway next to Annie’s car and approached the concrete porch. Her house was a modest frame with a tidy yard, but from the looks of things, the rest could use some attention. A fascia board was loose on the porch overhang where red wasps had built a nest. He dodged one of the ever-angry insects and kept an eye on another.

  The house needed a coat of paint, too. He still didn’t understand why Annie wouldn’t accept his money. He had plenty with no one to spend it on except Lydia. Justin was his child and except for a baseball glove and a six-pack of Gatorade, he’d never contributed a penny to his care. From the looks of things, Annie could use the help. Maybe he’d try to talk to her about it again. Money was something he could provide even after he went back to Virginia.

  He pressed the doorbell and then noticed the neatly printed note taped below it. “Knock. Doorbell broken.”

  He knocked, more determined to have that little financial chat. But not tonight.

  The knot in his gut turned to rock. Life seemed to be moving too fast since his return to Redemption. He’d come home to be with a dying relative and discovered a new, even more fragile relative waiting—his son. He could do nothing for Lydia, a fact that ripped him in half. He hoped he could do more for Justin.

  After the heart-wrenching conversation, he’d asked a neighbor to sit with his aunt until he returned. The small boy hiding inside prayed she would still be there. Without her, he lost his roots and his life had no anchor.

  He lifted a fist to knock again just as the door swung open.

  Annie had changed from scrubs into denim cropped pants and a tank top. With her Cameron Diaz cheeks flushed and her hair whipped up into a ponytail, she looked eighteen again.

  Sloan’s pulse kicked into overdrive. Unsettled, he motioned to a low-flying wasp. “Look out. Dive-bomber at three o’clock.”

  “I despise those things. Delaney got stung yesterday.”

  “Is she okay?”

  “After the initial screaming, yes. The place is red and hot, but she’s not allergic. Thank God.” She pushed the door back with the flat of her hand and stood aside to let him enter. “I’m so nervous, I’m sick to my stomach.”

  “About a wasp?” He knew she referred to Justin, but was trying to tease her into relaxing. He was nervous enough himself, but Annie needed his strength and calm, not his anxiety. He hadn’t been around when she’d needed him before and he wasn’t going to let her down this time.

  She gave him a look. “No, knothead. About the cake I’m baking for the church dinner.”

  He laughed and to his pleasure, so did she. Sloan hooked an arm over her shoulders. She’d always been more than a match for his smart mouth. “That’s my girl.”

  As soon as he said the words, Annie stiffened and slid away. He sighed. She wasn’t his girl. She’d made that as clear as a baby’s conscience.

  Following her into the neat living room, he asked, “Where’s Justin?”

  “In his room. I’ll get him. Sit down.” But before she left the room, Justin came sauntering in.

  His face registered curiosity. “Hi, Sloan. What’s up?”

  Sloan’s adrenaline kicked in, as jolting as six cups of coffee. This was his son. The wonder and power of that revelation rocked his world.

  “Justin.” The two exchanged knuckle bumps. “Your mother and I want to talk to you.”

  Annie sucked in a noisy breath. Her green eyes shot him a look of panic.

  “No time like the present,” he told her quietly and with all the reassurance he could.

  “I don’t know— I just thought.” She looked from the now-bewildered boy to him. “Do you want some cookies? Or maybe something to drink first?”

  “Later.” Sloan settled on the beige microfiber couch, trying with all his might to appear calmer than he felt. “Sit down, Justin. Annie,
you, too. You’re flitting around more than those red wasps.”

  With another nervous exhale, Annie perched, pulling Justin down beside her. She’d maneuvered the boy so that Sloan was on one side and she on the other. Sloan itched to hold and comfort her, to relieve her stress and promise that everything would be all right. He would make it all right. Somehow.

  “What’s going on, Mom?” Justin asked, his voice sounding young and unsure.

  Annie gripped one of the boy’s hands between both of hers. “We—that is, Sloan and I—”

  Justin frowned. “Yeah?”

  “You know how much I love you, don’t you, baby?”

  The boy shot a glance at Sloan. When Sloan offered a reassuring nod, a light came on in Justin’s face.

  “This is about what I asked you, isn’t it?” His question was for Sloan. “About what Robbie said?”

  “Yes, and I made you a promise.” Sloan scooted closer, his knee bumping Justin’s. “I’m not sure what you heard, so your mother and I want you to know the truth from us.”

  “So, are you or not?”

  Blood pounding in his temples, Sloan exchanged glances with Annie and then spoke the words he knew would change his life and that of this child. “Yes. I’m your biological father.”

  Sloan wasn’t sure what he expected from the boy, but Justin took the news calmly, though his throat worked and his eyes gleamed suspiciously. “So, where have you been? Why didn’t you marry my mom?”

  Annie spoke up, her voice gentle. “He didn’t know about you.”

  Justin’s head snapped toward his mother. “Why not?”

  “The answer to that is complicated,” she went on. “Something bad happened and Sloan left town before I could tell him.”

  Justin’s sharp mind would not leave the vagaries alone. “What kind of bad thing? Why did you leave my mom?”

  Well, lovely, Sloan thought sarcastically. He’d opened this can of worms and now he had to eat it. “I was accused of a crime I didn’t commit. I had a choice to leave town or go to jail.”