by Dana Mentink
“How long?” John fired back.
“None of your business,” Mick snapped.
“Mick,” Junie called.
Mick and John remained locked in a stare down for another long moment before Mick broke away to return to June.
John looked at his watch. “I’ve got to go. Are you driving home now?”
She nodded.
“I’ll see you later, then. How about I bring some dinner?”
“That’s not necessary.”
“I know. I just want to do something to mark the occasion. You’re finally getting your life back. You can put the past behind you.” He gave her a final hug and left.
Would the past finally be behind her? She’d prayed so long and hard that she would be able to start a new life for Junie, just the two of them, free from the shadow of her sister’s murder.
But what if Tucker was telling the truth?
She watched Mick picking up the leaves that dropped from Junie’s palms as she tried to squish them into the bucket.
And how would she feel when Mick stepped out of her life forever?
*
Mick did not want to think about John’s accusation, but it stuck in his mind nonetheless. Maybe he was considering the possibility of Tucker’s innocence because it relieved him of the burden of guilt.
But there were odd pieces to the puzzle that didn’t fit. The rooftop diagram. The bloody clothes left by Bruce and Charlie. And Reggie’s involvement with Bruce as his parole officer. He hadn’t imagined those facts. Plus he didn’t see how Tucker could have sent the fake text from Fred at Bird’s Away Magazine. It certainly wasn’t from the cell phone the police had confiscated at the garage. Mason had let that much slip.
Maybe he was grasping at straws, doing anything he could to stay involved in Keeley’s life. It was a sobering thought. Was it his guilt that kept his heart wandering back to her? Or something else?
He listened to Keeley’s and June’s lively chatter, fascinated. It was so easy and smooth, their conversation, like two birds effortlessly skimming the water. The little girl was buckled in the cramped backseat of his truck; he could just see her flyaway blond hair in the rearview mirror. She swung her toy, Mr. Moo Moo, back and forth. He was pleased to see the cow’s missing eye had been reattached. For a moment, he allowed himself to imagine what it would be like to be a father to a family with a child like Junie and a woman like Keeley. Would it be an overwhelming responsibility? A frightening lifelong commitment?
No, he decided. It would be the greatest honor of a man’s life.
An honor denied to him.
Someday John might assume that role in Keeley’s life. John certainly saw himself as their protector. The thought knifed in Mick’s gut. Why not? His conscience taunted him. The guy was a professional. He’d known the type for years. Owned a nice house and a steady practice. Mick found he was clutching the steering wheel in a death grip. He eased off.
Keeley still looked tired, pale, but there was a peacefulness about her that he knew came from having Junie close by.
Junie began to hum.
“Sing?” she said.
Keeley chimed in with something about buses and wheels going around. The melody filled the truck.
Mick could feel June staring at him.
“She wants you to sing, too,” Keeley said.
Him? Sing? He never sang or even hummed and with good reason. Birds were known to plummet from the sky within earshot of his horrible crooning. He looked at Junie in the rearview. That little girl wanted a song. Step up, he told himself. Then all of a sudden he was rasping along about windshield wipers that swished and doors opening and closing. He sang with as much vigor and commitment as he had shown when his company fought in Khafji in Operation Desert Storm. All in. For her.
When the song was finished, Junie contented herself looking out the window. Mick heaved a sigh of relief. He’d had no idea there were so many things moving and shaking on a bus.
Keeley grinned. “That was the best chorus we’ve ever sung.”
It thrilled him for no particular reason. “No thanks to me.”
“It was perfect.” Something in the tone was soft and warm and spread through his veins like summer sunshine. She touched his hand.
“Thank you for everything you’ve done for us.”
“Haven’t done much.”
“Yes, you have, and I won’t ever forget it.” She paused. “I want you to know that if Tucker did…” She shot a look at Junie. “If he did it, it wasn’t your fault. He’s convincing. He made LeeAnn believe him, and I think part of me does, too.”
“Thank you for saying that.”
“I know LeeAnn wouldn’t blame you, and I don’t, either.”
He stared at the road.
“But you still blame yourself.” She stroked his arm, tingles shooting up and down his side. “Mick, even if what happened was out of negligence, or carelessness, or ignorance, God forgives if you ask Him to.”
“I’ve never asked,” he found himself saying.
“Because you don’t think you’re worthy of forgiveness?”
Yes, his heart said, even though he couldn’t form the words. I am not worthy of forgiveness. I am not worthy of you.
“Mick, you are worthy of God’s love. You’re bossy and taciturn and kind of a maddening driver, but God forgives everything because you’re His son.”
He blinked.
“If your own son had lived, do you think you would have forgiven the mistakes he made in his life?”
His own son. His boy. “I don’t know. I never got the chance to find out.”
“Well, I know, because when God gave us Junie I learned that I would forgive her a million times over because I love her. People are meant to love and forgive because God made us that way. I think it’s the one really good thing about us.”
“But you are good, Keeley. You are kind and gentle and committed and honest with your emotions.” He could not believe that the feelings in his heart had found words to accompany them. “You’re…good.”
“And I’ve got just as many sins as you, Mick,” she said quietly. “They’re just different.”
“And you believe God forgives them?”
The conversation with his father came back to him.
“Your mom would have said guilt is a prison and God put the key in your hand. All you need to do is take it and let yourself loose.”
What would it be like to let himself out of the cage of guilt? Would he be free to let joy into his life? To open his heart like Keeley did? To a child? To love? The thought tantalized him. They pulled up to Keeley’s driveway.
“I’m going to think about it, what you said.”
She smiled. “I’m glad.” As they got out, Keeley helped June open the mailbox.
Keeley gave a huge sigh when she saw the legal-size envelope.
“I don’t know who sends this money, but it always saves me in the nick of time.” She squinted at the envelope. Slowly her gaze slid to him. She knew.
“Mick, is this from you?”
He saw the slow anger kindling in her eyes, and he wanted to deny it. “Yes, ma’am,” he said softly.
“Why?”
“I knew you needed it. Your debts…”
Her face blanched. “You researched my debts?”
“I wanted to help you, to make up for…” His words betrayed him, like they always did. He watched her face ice over.
“You thought you could make it up to me? My sister’s murder?”
“No,” he said, hating his own tongue. “I didn’t mean that. I wanted to take care of you.”
“All this time. You never said a word. How long were you going to keep up the lie?”
He clenched his hands into fists. “I thought…”
“Oh, right. You thought you were taking care of me. It’s the same thing John tries to do all the time, take care of us. So did Tucker. Well, you know what? We don’t need to be taken care of. Junie and I are fine, and
we don’t need your charity.”
“I know that.”
“And we don’t need you hanging around here out of guilt.”
It’s not guilt, he wanted to say. Not anymore.
She held up the check. “Here.”
“I meant it to help you.”
“Take it back to your sanctuary and use it for the birds.”
“Keeley…”
She shoved the check into his hands and tugged Junie to the house.
He crushed the paper in his fists, wondering how he’d once again managed to mess up the best thing in his life. Keeley, he realized through the tide of grief, was the only woman he’d trusted enough to open up to. It had started out of guilt, a sense of duty, but now as he watched her close the door, he realized that she meant something else to him.
Too little. Too late. He should have that tattooed on his chest. There was nothing else to be done except for him to get into his truck and leave, but not before he talked to Reggie and looked into the nagging details that still bothered him about the Tucker situation. He’d turned to go back to the truck when the door of the house was flung open. Keeley had June in her arms, and she deposited her gently on the front step.
“Stay here for a minute.” She hesitated, looking helplessly around before reluctantly eyeing Mick. “Can you make sure she doesn’t wander off? Just watch her, that’s all. I wouldn’t ask, but…”
He nodded and joined Junie on the porch. “What’s wrong?”
She shook her head and returned to the house. The hair on the back of his neck prickled, but he dutifully took up his position next to June.
June sat down on the weathered porch and started trying to take off her socks and shoes, which Mick noticed were soaking wet. She grunted, and her cheeks flushed red with the effort.
He knelt down and helped her until the shoes and wet socks were off. She sighed and hopped down the first porch step.
“Mama said to stay on the porch,” he said.
A crafty look came over her face, and she hopped down the next step.
“June, you gotta do what your Mama says.”
June hopped down the last step and started to sprint away when Mick caught her up as gently as he could. She squirmed at first until he positioned her on his shoulders. “Okay, Miss June. Mind your head,” he said as he ducked through the front door, June giggling madly and bouncing on his shoulders.
He noticed the water immediately, soaked floorboards outside the kitchen. Keeley emerged from the hallway, her pants rolled up and shoes discarded. She eyed Junie. “I told you to…”
“She decided to disregard your orders,” he cut in. “What’s going on?”
“Someone turned on all the taps in the kitchen and the bathroom and stoppered up the sinks and tub. Everything is soaked.” There was a slight tremble in her voice, but she did not cry. “Who would do that?”
Who indeed? “Couldn’t have been Tucker.” A sinister thought rose in his mind. John Bender was determined to pull Keeley into his orbit, and Junie, too. “Would Bender do something like this?”
She started as if she’d gotten an electric shock. “John? Of course not. He cares for us. How could you think such a thing?”
The Molotov cocktail. A house left to flood. Both designed to push her out of her house and into his. “He wants you to move in with him.”
She exploded. “Mick, stop it,” she shouted. “I told you no one is going to pressure me into doing anything. This is my house, for me and Junie. There’s no room for anyone else in our lives.”
Junie shoved her fingers in her mouth and pressed her face against the top of Mick’s head, eyes closed, whimpering.
Keeley’s face crumpled. “Oh, honey. I’m sorry.”
“Mad, mad,” she sniffed.
“No, Mama’s not mad.” She shot a look at Mick. “Not at you. Come here.” He bent so she could take the child from his shoulders.
“I’m sure this involves those kids, Ricky and Stephano,” she said, while swaying side to side with Junie. “They had a score to settle, especially Stephano after I harassed him at work. They pried the back bedroom window open.” She cuddled Junie. “Oh, Junie.” She sighed. “This isn’t how I imagined your homecoming would be.”
“Where are the towels? I’ll dry the hardwood.”
“No, Mick. I told you…”
He stared her down. “Yes, I heard. No room in your life for anyone. You’re mad at me for prying into your life and sending money. Got it. I’m going to dry the floor while you hold Junie. That’s not prying or bossing, it’s just salvaging.”
Her eyes still sparked with fire that ignited something deep in his belly.
“Top shelf, hall closet,” she said, voice cold.
Grateful that he could still be of some small service, he set off, boots squelching on the wet floor. Was the house flood the work of two disgruntled teens? He wanted to believe it, but his gut told him it was something else, something far more sinister.
SEVENTEEN
When the kitchen floor was relatively dry, Keeley set June at the table with a tub of plastic animals to keep her occupied. Her mind spun with the latest setback. She did not have the money to replace carpets or the ruined draperies. Insurance would cover some, but she didn’t even want to think about the deductible. Mick’s thousand dollars would help, but she would not consider taking it. Her pride stung to think that all these months she’d been his charity case, a way to assuage his guilt. More than that, she’d let herself grow fond of him, a man who saw her as a duty, someone who needed a caretaker.
She brushed away the thoughts. The first problem at hand was what to do with Junie. The only bedroom was unlivable, at least until she got the sodden carpet removed. Aunt Viv would of course welcome Junie again, but Keeley hated to ask. She was supposed to be the mother, the provider, and it was time to stop taking advantage of Aunt Viv. John had an extra bedroom and he’d like nothing better than for them to come and stay with him, but Mick’s accusation stuck in her mind. John’s attention had always elicited an odd feeling in Keeley, but she knew he would never stoop to damaging her home in order to convince her to stay with him. Would he?
“This is ridiculous. I know John. Mick doesn’t.” She snatched up her cell phone and dialed John’s number.
“Hi, John, it’s Keeley.”
“Is something wrong? You sound tense.”
Wrong? Everything was wrong. She should go stay with the man and let him provide a dry place for her daughter, for goodness’ sake. It would be so easy. “Um, no. Nothing’s wrong. I actually… Everything is fine. I’m not going to come in to help with the birds tonight. Something’s come up.”
“Are you sure you’re okay? Do you need any help?”
“No, we’re fine. I’ll probably see you tomorrow.”
“Okay,” he said doubtfully. “But I’m here if you need anything, remember that.”
She disconnected. Had it come to this? That she did not trust anyone? She’d wanted so badly to shut everyone out after LeeAnn’s death, to prove to herself that she did not need to let anyone in as she assumed the role of a mother figure. It had been easy to do, until Mick arrived on the scene.
You don’t need him. You can do this all by yourself. God’s equipped you, remember?
Mick dumped a pile of wet towels in the corner of the kitchen. “I pulled up the carpet in the bedroom and put cardboard over the nails. Hallway and bathroom are dry. Windows are open to dry things out.” He hesitated. “Will you hear out a suggestion?”
She nodded for him to continue.
“You and June sleep in the camper tonight, since it will be cold with all the windows open.”
She felt miserable. Of course Mick would no longer need to stay in the camper. His job was done now that Tucker was caught. The only bright spot was that she could have Junie with her overnight, finally, if she could find a spot dry enough.
“Okay,” she said dully. “She has a playdate today. That will give me some
time to contact the flooring people and the insurance company.”
The silence grew awkward between them.
“Please thank your father again for his kindness when you get back,” she said.
“Okay.”
“Why do I get the sense you’re not leaving right away?” She ignored the hopeful feeling that sprang up inside her.
“Got loose ends to nail down.”
“What?”
He didn’t answer.
“You’re going to check out the rooftop.”
Still no answer.
“Because you think Tucker might be innocent after all.”
“Because I still don’t know why he was interested in staying on that rooftop. That’s all.”
“I’m going, too.”
“No.”
“You don’t get to tell me what to do. If Tucker is innocent, then someone else killed my sister.”
“And if it is someone else, they’re not going to want you to find out. That puts you in danger.”
“It’s my call, not yours.” She paused. “Soon you’ll be out of here and I’ll be left to raise my sister’s child. Someday I want to tell Junie when she’s old enough that the bad person, whoever that is, was held responsible for what he did to her mother.”
“I want that for you, too.”
She added quietly, “That’s the only way you’ll ever be free of the guilt…and me.” She’d expected to find hardness in his eyes, the flinty soldier whom she’d taken to task, the overbearing guy who’d interfered. Instead she found softness there in his chocolate gaze, a shimmering sweetness as he stared at her that made her knees weak.
Slowly, he reached up his hand and traced one finger along the side of her face. “Keeley,” he said. “I’ll never get you out of my heart.” Then he turned and walked out.
*
I’ll never get you out of my heart. Had he really said that? Given voice to the strange longing that had nested deep inside him? It was true. After he’d gone home, back to the quiet sanctuary with his father and his birds, she would remain in his soul, if only in his memory. Mick was not a person of great imagination, but he’d often found himself wondering what life would have been like if his son had lived. He knew his mind would harbor similar musings about Keeley. Their lives would be separate, but his heart would drift back to her. Why? Was it guilt? He did not think so, not anymore. Was it love, then?
