Redemption Road: Jackson Falls Book 5 (Jackson Falls Series)

by Breton, Laurie

  Mikey’s eyes narrowed, and then they lit with memory. “I got a cut on the chin,” he said. “Dad came and got us.”

  “Yes. Dad came and got us.” She swiped furiously at a tear she hadn’t known was there. “I knew then that I had to get help. Because, you see, there was nothing in the world more important to me than you. And I’d put you in danger. God, Jesse was so mad at me. He told me he’d had enough, that he was filing for divorce. That he was keeping you.” She paused, lost in memories. “I could hardly blame him.”

  “So what happened?”

  “He’d just published his second book. The first one had really taken off. He was making a sickening amount of money. He told me he’d send me to rehab. He’d pay. There was just one stipulation. I couldn’t see you again until I was clean.”

  “I remember now. You went away for a while. You were in rehab?”

  “I was in rehab. When I got out, for the first time in almost a decade, I was clean and sober. The divorce went through. Your dad was granted custody. There was no point in fighting it. I was a mess. In no way was I ready to be a mother to you at that point. So I moved back in with Dad and Millie, to be close to you. Your dad allowed me to spend time with you as long as it was supervised. I wasn’t happy about it, but I understood. I got a job. A car. Then I met Kenny Davis. I was fragile, and he was persuasive. So we got married. I seemed to be headed toward stability, so your father relaxed some of his visitation rules. You came to visit Kenny and me sometimes.”

  “I didn’t like him.”

  “No. You didn’t. And after a few months, that marriage went off the rails, too. Rebound marriages seldom work out. I went into a tailspin. I couldn’t understand why I kept failing at marriage, so I threw myself a pity party and I fell off the wagon. Hard. By this time, my drinking buddies had all deserted me. Their partying days were behind them, and they were all raising families. I was a liability. They didn’t want me hanging around their kids. Or their husbands. I called your dad and begged for help, and he sent me back to rehab, to a fancy clinic in Miami. The second time around, it took. I came out sober, and I stayed that way. But we agreed that joint custody wasn’t an option at that point, and might never be. That it was probably better for you, in the short-term, anyway, if I stayed in Florida. Who knew when I might fall off the wagon again? Your father had to protect you, and I had to regain his trust. Earn my right to be your mother.” At Mikey’s frown, she shook her head. “You can’t blame him for any of this. You have to understand that he saved my life. Twice. He wasn’t obligated to me. We weren’t married any longer. He did it because that’s the kind of man he is.

  “It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I’d call you up and talk on the phone, and when we were done talking, your dad would get on, and we’d have these long, heartfelt conversations. I’d cry because I missed you so much. But he held firm to his stand, that I couldn’t see you again until he believed I was ready.”

  “How could you let him do that to you? To me?”

  “I didn’t let him do anything. I thought he was right. I was staying sober, but it was the hardest battle I’ve ever fought. Every damn day, I was fighting for my life. It was all I could do to hang on by the tips of my fingernails. I’d already done enough damage, and I didn’t want to screw up your life any more than I already had. So I stayed in Florida, and tried to put my life back together, brick by brick. He paid my way through college, Mikey. He didn’t have to do that. Your father’s a good man. We might not always agree on everything, but he’s a good man. I got a decent job, moved into a nice apartment. Eventually, the time came when he started trusting me again. You were getting older, and I was finally sober, and you started visiting me. He’d buy you a ticket to Miami, and you’d spend school vacations with me. You already know that. What you don’t know is that every time I put you on a plane back to Maine, I went to pieces. But I stayed strong. Even though I wanted a drink, I didn’t take one. I stayed strong because I knew that if I screwed up again, there wouldn’t be any more chances. If I started drinking again, I’d lose you forever.”

  They were both silent for a very long time. “Why didn’t you ever tell me this?” he finally said.

  “I was ashamed. Ashamed of what I was, ashamed of what I wasn’t. Ashamed because I’d let your father talk me into staying away from you. Maybe I should have fought harder to hold onto you. Maybe I should have questioned your father’s motives. But I owed him so damn much that I didn’t think I had a right to ask questions. Everything he did, every decision he made, was because he thought it was the best thing for you. That doesn’t mean he was always right. He’s human, just like I am, and just as capable of making mistakes.” Her hands were freezing, and she tucked them into her jacket. “When you showed up at my door, I thought maybe the gods were giving me a second chance with you. Now, I’m not so sure. Because you’re leaving again. And you’re furious with me. Have I blown it completely?”

  “I don’t hate you, Mom. I just wish I’d known the truth a little sooner.”

  “Please don’t hate your father, either. He did an amazing job of raising you.”

  Mikey crossed his ankles. Sighed. “I know.”

  “I wish you weren’t leaving. But I guess I can understand why you’re doing it.”

  “Paige and I,” he said. “We were planning to stop in Vegas and get married.”

  “Oh, Mikey. I got married at seventeen, and look how that turned out. Don’t repeat my mistakes.”

  “She changed her mind. She said she wasn’t ready. That we’re too young. That this isn’t our time.”

  “She’s a smart girl.”

  “It still hurts.”

  “You have to give her time to grow up. Spread her wings. Figure out what she wants to do with her life.”

  “That’s pretty much what she said.”

  “I’m so sorry. I haven’t forgotten what love feels like at your age. You may be too young to get married, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.” She brushed a lock of hair away from his face. “Will you write to me? Call me?”

  “Of course. And I’ll come home when I can.”

  “So, what now?”

  “Now, I have to figure out a way to get to Camp Pendleton. I pretty much used up the last of my money paying for this hotel room. Paige and I needed someplace warm to stay while we waited for you to get here.”

  “How much is a bus ticket to Camp Pendleton?”

  “I don’t have a clue. More than I’ve got.”

  Colleen let out a hard breath. She’d known, pretty much from the beginning, that this was inevitable. She’d fought it, but the struggle had been pointless. You couldn’t fight destiny. Your only choice was to give in to it and see where the ride took you.

  She opened her purse, pulled out her wallet, removed a plastic card and handed it to him. “Here,” she said. “It’s an ATM card that’s connected to a savings account. There’s not much in it, but there should be enough to buy you a bus ticket and a few meals. There would’ve been more, but I’ve been dipping into it to feed you.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “It’s my escape fund. I figure you need it more than I do.”

  “Are you sure?”

  For the first time since Irv died, certainty lifted a heavy weight from her shoulders. “I’m sure,” she said. “Listen, kiddo, it’s freezing out here.” She looked around, spied a pay phone. “Go on inside and call your father. He needs to know what’s going on. And he needs to hear your voice. I’ll be right in.”

  “What are you doing?”

  She tilted her head in the direction of the phone. “There’s a call I have to make.”

  Colleen

  When she saw the dented Chevy pick-up in the driveway, her heart took a joyful leap.

  Rob parked beside it, and they said their goodnights at the car. Her brother-in-law clapped her on the shoulder, and Paige, who’d been unnaturally silent ever since they put Mikey on a bus for California and watched i
t pull away, gave her a warm hug. Colleen stood watching as father and daughter navigated the icy walkway and climbed the steps to their front porch.

  She took her time, in no particular hurry. The night was late, nearly eleven o’clock, and dense with fog. She filled her lungs with moist, fresh air. The fog was eating away at the snow, so rapidly she could almost see it shrinking right in front of her. Something was different tonight; while she’d been gone, the whole world had changed. When she’d left this morning, it had still been winter. Tonight, she could smell spring in the air. Could taste it. Winter had been long and hard; it was time for a change.

  Still in no hurry, she rounded the corner to the studio. He was sitting on the stairs that led to her apartment, on the third step from the bottom, a handsome, dark-haired man with stunning blue eyes and a heart as big as the Georgia sky he’d grown up under. Beside him, a butt-ugly dog thumped its tail in greeting.

  “Hi,” she said. “Been waiting long?”

  “Oh, just an hour…or two. Maybe three. But who’s counting?”

  “The drive from Portland took longer than we expected. The fog was so thick.”

  “Everything turn out okay?”

  She seriously considered his question. “Yes,” she said. “I believe everything turned out the way it was supposed to.”

  “That’s great news. So, Berkowitz, does this mean you’re planning to stay put?”

  She slung her purse over her shoulder. “I don’t really have a choice, Atkins. It looks like I’m about to become a sheep farmer.”

  His grin did amazing things to her insides. “I can’t wait to see you mucking out stalls.”

  “Casey can muck out the stalls. I’m more of a numbers person.”

  “I have interesting news. Abe Wentzel in Florida called me back this afternoon. Seems you might just become a wealthy woman in the near future. Apparently, your late husband was worth a lot of money.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “And what am I supposed to do with that kind of money in this hick town?”

  “I dunno. Maybe you can invest it in a sheep farm.”

  “There’s an idea. Where’s Annabel?”

  “She’s in the house, asleep in the guest room.”

  “So you’re a free man tonight?”

  “I am. After I got your message, I bribed Billy into doing the milking for me tomorrow morning.”

  “Well, then. Why are we wasting time talking?” She climbed the steps until she reached him. Clutched his coat collar in both hands, leaned forward, and kissed him. Deeply, sweetly, hungrily.

  “Harley Atkins,” she said, when she’d had her fill. “Do you have any idea what you taste like?”

  “Do I dare to ask?”

  “My future,” she said. “You taste like my future.”

  A devilish grin broke across his face. “I do believe I’d like to discuss that further.” Harley stood, held out an arm, and Colleen threaded hers through it.

  And arm in arm, they climbed the stairs to her apartment.

  THE END

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  Author Bio

  Laurie Breton started making up stories in her head when she was a small child. At the age of eight, she picked up a pen and began writing them down. Although she now uses a computer to write, she’s still addicted to a new pen and a fresh sheet of lined paper. At some point during her angsty teenage years, her incoherent scribblings morphed into love stories, and that’s what she’s been writing, in one form or another, ever since.

  When she’s not writing, she can usually be found driving the back roads of Maine, looking for inspiration. Or perhaps standing on a beach at dawn, shooting a sunrise with her Canon camera. If all else fails, a day trip to Boston, where her heart resides, will usually get the juices flowing.

  The mother of two grown children, Breton has two beautiful grandkids and two precious grand-dogs. She and her husband live in a small Maine town with a lovebird who won’t stop laying eggs and a Chihuahua/Papillon/Schipperke/Pug mix named River who pretty much runs the household.