Beloved Healer

by Bonnie Dee

  “That’s not what I heard. Sherri said there’s this whole story about you laying hands on that cook at the diner and some other guy’s bad back. Like some kinda Jesus shit.”

  “That’s nuts,” Mason scoffed. “Don’t know how rumors like that get started. Small towns.”

  Close-set eyes studied him as Gordy took another long drag on the butt of his joint. “Thing is, I got this condition. The pot don’t ease the pain no more, so I thought, what the hell, I’ll try anything.”

  “That sucks. Too bad I don’t have those magical powers, right? Hey, man, I’d hang with you, but I’ve got to make a call. Family trouble I’ve been putting off dealing with.” He stepped back into his room and began to close the door. “Sorry about your leg pain. Wish I could’ve helped.”

  “I didn’t say it was my leg.” Gordy’s voice came through the closed door, but Mason had already turned the lock.

  He sat on the edge of the bed, cursing his stupidity. What a crap liar he was. Gordy’s request was exactly the sort of thing he’d wanted to avoid. It always snowballed, and now Croyden was around. Like Lego blocks snapping together one brick after another, the case for leaving the area built up. There was really only one reason to stay.

  “Fuck it!” After a few moments, Mason jumped up, checked to see that Gordy was gone, and then walked swiftly across the parking lot. He headed to the diner to use a phone and the Internet. He was a reliable employee, so Deb would allow him to use her office to make a few calls.

  Mason entered the back of the diner and went straight to Deb’s office without running into anyone. That was great, because he didn’t want to see Ava right now and be reminded of the main reason he didn’t want to leave Waller.

  He hadn’t told her the complete truth about his sisters. At least Gina. During his talk with his old neighbors in Arizona, he’d gotten her new cell phone number. He’d known how to reach her for some time now. He just hadn’t done it.

  Mason took a deep breath and dialed the number he’d kept written on a scrap of paper for over a year, now permanently etched in his brain. With each digit he pressed, another memory flashed through his mind. Most of them involved how his mom had looked in the final stages of the cancer he couldn’t touch. The others were of his sisters’ faces; Carolyn’s, tight with suppressed rage, and Gina’s so sorrowful he couldn’t even meet her gaze. He’d stuck around just long enough for Mom’s funeral, then fled, catching a ride with some trucker who talked enough for both of them, filling mile after mile with stories about his family, his wife, and his mistress in Yuma.

  Mason had just turned eighteen. Now he was twenty-four. In the past six years, he hadn’t stayed in one place for more than a month or two. Why break the pattern now?

  He listened to Gina’s phone ring, his heart beating fast. Over the years, he’d rehearsed dozens of different conversations, but when he actually heard her voice, he couldn’t speak.

  “Hello?” she repeated.

  Mason took a quick breath. “Gina?”

  “Yes. Who is this?”

  “It’s… It’s Mason.”

  Complete silence followed his announcement, then a gasped “Oh my God.”

  Was that an I’m so happy to hear from my brother after all these years or a why the hell did you have to intrude back into my life?

  “Mason, where are you? How are you? Where have you been? I tried to find you, but it was like you’d vanished off the planet. And then a couple of years ago, I did a search of your name and saw a video of you at some revival, but I still couldn’t reach you. Why did you just disappear? How could you do that to us?” Gina zipped from relief and happiness to anger with her typical emotional speed. She’d always been quick to fire up and just as quick to get over it. Not a slow burner who held a grudge like Carolyn.

  “I’m sorry,” Mason blurted before she could steamroll on. “I just felt so guilty about Mom. And the way you guys looked at me, I had to leave.”

  “You ran away like a little pansy ass. That really pisses me off. Do you know how worried about you I’ve been these past few years? Do you know what you put us through, making us lose a brother as well as our mom all in a few days’ time?”

  “I thought it would be better,” he said lamely. “I thought you and Carolyn wanted me gone.”

  “Of course not! Not without a word. I know things were”—she paused as though searching for the right word—“strained, between us. We were both upset you couldn’t cure Mom, but I knew it wasn’t your fault. You didn’t give me a chance to tell you that, or to fix things between us. You just left.”

  “I’m sorry.” He blew out a tension-filled breath before he dared ask, “Does Carolyn feel the same way?”

  Silence. “Carolyn is Carolyn. You know how hard and unforgiving she can be. Like Dad was, not that you’d remember him. But, jeez, Mason, how could you do that to me? We were so close for so long. Living way out where we did, it was just us.”

  “I’m sorry,” he repeated.

  “I’ve missed you,” Gina said. “And whatever I might have said, or you thought I was thinking about you not healing Mom, I’m sorry for that. The last thing I ever wanted was for you to feel bad about not being able to help her. I’ve had my own share of guilt, feeling like I drove you away.”

  A weight lifted from him at her words. He’d been young and foolish and so racked by guilt he couldn’t face his sisters to work through their feelings together. He could see that clearly now. It was as if he’d grown up all in an instant, throwing away grudges and recrimination he’d clung to for years. “You didn’t drive me away. It was my issue. I thought I had to go.”

  Too much emotion. He was all choked up and liable to blubber on the phone if he didn’t change the subject. Mason cleared his throat. “Anyway, what’s going on in your life? I heard you’re in Atlanta. I stopped by the old house a while back and got the news and your new number from the Sandersons.”

  “I finally finish my degree, and I’m a physical therapist now,” Gina said. “I’m dating a guy from work, another therapist. We’re talking about moving in together.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Dexter. Can you believe it? Who would name a poor kid Dexter? Such a nerd name.” Gina laughed, and Mason grinned at the beautiful, familiar sound.

  “Now people hear it and think serial killer,” he pointed out. “But it could be worse. He could be”—he searched for the most outrageous name he could think of—“a Peabody or Percival.”

  They laughed together, reminding him of every time it had been the pair of them against the world, whether that meant school bus bullies, Mom’s temper, or Carolyn’s bossy bitching.

  “I’d like to meet him. I’d like to come and see you,” Mason said.

  “Really? Where are you right now?”

  “Just cooling my heels in Waller, Kentucky.”

  “You’re making that up.”

  “Swear to God. And the nearest town is called Brag’s Hollow. I’m definitely in mountain country. A little more than an hour out of Pikeville. About seven hours from Atlanta. I could be down there in a day by bus.” Mason suddenly realized he already had one foot out the door. He thought of Ava and felt almost physically sick, his gut ached so badly. They’d gone way too deep. It would hurt her when he left.

  Hell, it would hurt him.

  “I’d love to see you. I want you to come tomorrow”—Gina paused—“but, why now? You sound sort of, I don’t know, in a hurry. Are you in some sort of trouble?”

  “No. Not anything with the law, if that’s what you’re getting at, but things are getting a little sticky here,” Mason admitted.

  “Sticky how? The healing? You know you can always tell people no.”

  “And you of all people know it’s not that easy for me to do,” he said. “Once people find out, their personal needs are all they can think of. They think I’m a selfish bastard if I won’t help them. But sometimes I can’t, and sometimes I just don’t want to. It takes a toll, Gin
a. More than I ever knew until recently.”

  Another silence, and he pictured her face, those warm brown eyes, the little scar on her chin from where she’d cut it open by tripping and landing on a rock. The cut had gushed a fountain, and Mason had automatically reached out a hand to fix his big sister. He’d only been six then and just figuring out that the thing he could do, other people couldn’t. He’d healed some hurt insects and animals, but not even his family really recognized his ability yet. Before he could help Gina, she’d run inside, dripping blood all the way, and Mom whisked her off to the nearest medical clinic, miles away, for stitches.

  When she spoke again, Gina’s voice was choked with tears. “Again, I am so sorry if I made you feel like I blamed you for not curing Mom. I know there are limits to what you can do. Carolyn does too, I’m sure. She’s just so…stubborn. But we both love you. Carolyn will want to hear from you. I’ll give you her number.” She took a breath. “Of course, I want you to come visit me, but I’m getting the feeling that you’re using me as an escape. You bounce from one place to another, running whenever things get hard. You have a strong streak of Dad in you.”

  Anger flared in him like a flash fire. “Wow. Thanks. That’s real nice.”

  “I’m not saying it to be a bitch. I’m saying it because I think it’s a problem you need to deal with. You’re almost twenty-five. You can’t spend your whole life aimlessly wandering.”

  Though she couldn’t see him, Mason checked an invisible wrist watch. “Two minutes. We haven’t talked or seen each other in six years and it took you less than two minutes to psychoanalyze me and tell me how to fix myself. Impressive. You should’ve been a head shrinker instead of a physical therapist.”

  “Come on,” she protested. “I’m not trying to be judgmental, but I want you to visit me for the right reasons. If you honestly have nothing holding you there, then come right ahead. But if there are things you need to wrap up first, take your time and do it. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here when you’re through.”

  He clenched his teeth and stared at the cat slideshow on Deb’s computer screen. Cats in costumes. Cats doing tricks. Cats sunning or licking themselves. Cats with cutesy clever sayings in thought bubbles above their heads. Too many damn opinionated cats.

  “I hate you,” he grumbled. “Know-it-all.”

  “I hate you too.” Gina’s voice was warm with love. “I’m so glad you called. You take care of yourself, and when you’re done sorting this thing out, come and see me.”

  Mason sighed. “I will. Bye.”

  “Good-bye, little brother.”

  He hung up the phone and gazed at a cat wearing a birthday hat and cutting a cake with one photo-shopped paw. Easy for Gina to say figure things out. He had no fucking clue what exactly that meant or what he should do next.

  But he figured it started with Ava.

  Chapter Seventeen

  When Bryan didn’t want to come down for dinner, Ava knew there was something wrong. The boy never missed a meal, and right now he was on some growth spurt that kept him shoveling in food almost faster than she could bring it home from the store.

  Nervous fear nibbled ratlike at the edge of her mind as she went upstairs to find out why he hadn’t responded to her repeated calls to come to supper. It was dumb to start panicking. She knew that. His disease was a progressive one. Whatever took him from her would likely be a side effect she had plenty of warning about. She wasn’t simply going to find him dead in his bed one day.

  She knocked on the door, and he yelled, “Go away.” Relief flooded through her at the grumpy reply. She opened the door and stepped inside.

  Bryan lay on his bed, facing the window beside his bed, headphones on, music blasting loud enough that she could hear the tinny sound from almost across the room.

  What to do. When was it time to leave him to his wallowing, and when should she push at him to talk to her? Teenagers were hard. Ava crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed, hesitated a second, then put her hand on his shoulder. He didn’t shrug it off. Good sign.

  “Hey, can you turn you music off?” she asked.

  Bryan didn’t respond at first, but finally, slowly, in that I’m doing this because I want to and not because you tell me to way he took the earbuds out. “What?”

  “You’re not hungry?”

  “No,” he snapped.

  “Can you tell me what’s wrong? Do you feel sick?” She already knew the answer.

  “No.”

  “Something at school?”

  Silence.

  “Is someone bullying you or…”

  “Stop asking me questions. You wouldn’t understand.”

  “If it’s…about a girl, I might be able to help. I was one, you know.”

  He glared at her over his shoulder. “Yeah, but did you try to date one? Did you ever ask one out and have her give you a deer-in-the-headlights stare, all embarrassed because she doesn’t want to hurt your feelings when she says no? And she will say no. They all will. Because I’m a freak, a cripple, and nobody’s ever going to date me, or go to a dance with me, or make out with me. The only way I’m getting kissed is if they have to from playing spin the bottle or something. That is, if I ever got invited to a party to begin with.”

  An invisible fist punched her gut at his words and the way he said them, not so much the rage but the hopelessness behind it. She didn’t know how to respond. She wished they had a father to say whatever it was fathers said to angry, depressed sons. Then she remembered what Mason had said when she’d told him how hard things were for Bryan.

  “That may be true right now, but someday there will be a woman who looks past your disease and sees who you are, someone wise enough and confident enough in herself to accept you exactly as you are.” She heaved a breath, feeling pretty good about the little speech.

  “That doesn’t help me now, does it?” A man’s low growl overtook the squeak in his boyish voice.

  “No. I know it doesn’t,” she agreed. “It sucks. I know how bad it sucks. High school is like walking on knives barefoot. Trust me, everyone gets scarred by it. Everyone. Even those kids you think have it all together.”

  He cast her another sideways look with less of a glare in it. “You had a hard time in school?”

  “I wasn’t Miss Social, that’s for sure, and I hardly ever had any dates. I was too shy.”

  “But you’re pretty. Pretty people always get dates.”

  “Not shy ones. And thank you.” She grinned at him.

  His lips quivered as he fought smiling back at her. He rolled his eyes. “What’s up with you and that Mason guy? Is he like your boyfriend now or something?”

  “Or something. I’m not sure. He’s not the kind of guy who’s going to stay in Waller.” Saying it out loud made her stomach hurt and her throat tighten up.

  “So, why are you dating him then?” Bryan asked.

  She could almost see the wheels turning in his mind as he tried to sort out the mysteries of human relationships and why they had to be so hard.

  “Because I like him,” she answered simply. “I can’t help it. He’s a good guy and sweet and fun to be with.” Not to mention she was addicted to his kisses.

  “If he’s such a good guy, he’d stick around,” Bryan said dryly.

  From the mouths of children. It hadn’t escaped her notice she was falling in love with someone bound to disappoint her. Was she following her mother’s pattern since dad’s death, or were men, in general, harder to pin down these days?

  “Aren’t you the smart one? Maybe you should become a shrink,” she teased. “Anyway, I’m sorry things are so hard at school this year. I wish I could do something to make it better, but I got nothing to offer besides tough it out.”

  Bryan rolled on his back to face her. “Great pep talk.”

  She shrugged. “Hey, I’m new at giving teenager advice. Cut me some slack.” She leaned to hug him and give him a peck on the forehead, which, for the first time in months, h
e accepted. “Love you, Bry.”

  “Enough to make chocolate brownies for dessert?” he shot back.

  She held her finger and thumb an inch apart. “Almost enough but not quite. We don’t have a box mix, and I don’t bake from scratch.” She stood. “Coming down for supper now?”

  “I guess.” Bryan sat and reached for his crutches, then followed her out of the room. “Not my business, but have you ever told Mason you want him to stay?”

  Ava looked back at him. “Now that would be too simple, wouldn’t it? Guess I like to make things hard for myself.”

  He shook his head. “Girls are ridiculous.”

  She stuck out her tongue. “Boys are worse.”

  *

  Bryan had been right last night; she had a hard time asking for what she wanted or needed. Ava had grown so used to shouldering the burdens of her life without help that she’d forgotten how to ask for it. Sometimes it felt like everything she did was for someone else, Bryan mostly but also her mom, or her boss, or the customers at the diner. It was time she spoke up for herself at last. She wanted Mason to stay. She needed him in her life. By God, she was going to march right up to him and just say…

  “Hi!”

  Ava halted outside Clayton’s as Mason came through the door onto the sidewalk right in front of her.

  “Wow. I was just walking over to see you,” she said.

  “And I was coming to see you. I stopped to get…” He waved the Clayton’s bag clutched in one hand. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. His tongue darted out to wet his lips and she couldn’t look away from them. “I, uh, wanted to talk.”

  “Me too.” Her heart lifted. They were on the same page. She could feel it.

  He gestured in the direction of her house. “I’ll walk you home.”

  She’d pour him lemonade and cut a brownie from the pan she’d made—from scratch—at Bryan’s request. They’d sit on the front porch, gently gliding to and fro in the swing, and then he’d say what she’d been hoping to hear.