by D. M. Webb
“You really want to know?” David gave a harsh laugh. “You, dear brother. You and your sanctimonious attitude.”
A small bit of glee blossomed within him as Jeremy choked on his coffee.
“What?”
“You have to be so much better. Obey the rules. Be a pillar of goodness. Jeremy the brave, Jeremy the great. Jeremy the hero.” David clamped his mouth shut. He spoke too much. Revealed too much.
“I didn’t ask for the award, David.” Jeremy glanced around him, his jaw at work again.
David half wished his brother would clamp his jaw so tight it would never open again. “You sure didn’t refuse it. An award for something you didn’t do.”
“Why should I refuse it? I’ve worked hard for it. I spent two years helping the detectives with that case. But you wouldn’t know that, would you?” Jeremy shook his head. “It’s been three years since you left. You came back, but you aren’t the same. You’re an alcoholic. You’re a womanizer. Seriously? You would rather hole up with some tramp? What about Maggie? Did you think about her?”
David stood. He fought the impulse to throw the coffee in his brother’s face. Instead he leaned down and whispered. “Better to be a whoremonger and alcoholic than a coward and a liar.”
He left Jeremy sitting there with a shocked expression. Yeah. Let him feel shocked that someone would tell him the truth. As he pushed out of the café, his stomach tried to revolt against the food. A part of him whispered that what he said wasn’t true, and he knew it. David pushed that thought away.
He stopped short on the sidewalk and closed his eyes. Just great.
Jeremy drove him here. He didn’t have a ride. He lived at least five miles away from downtown. Better start walking now. He burrowed his hands into his pockets and turned. Jeremy stood there, leaning against the parking meter.
Jeremy walked to the car and opened the passenger door. Again, shame descended upon him. David ignored his brother, slid into the car, and pulled the door closed.
Jeremy rounded the vehicle and settled into the driver’s seat. David couldn’t look at him. Half of him wanted to apologize for the words, guilt eating at him, and the other half wanted to hurl more curses at him.
In silence, Jeremy drove David across town to the small apartment building. He pulled into the parking garage.
David didn’t move. What more could be said? What more could be done?
Jeremy removed his gloves and threw them on the dashboard. About time he removed those gloves. Then he reached into the back and grabbed David’s filthy jacket and shirt.
“Look. Right now isn’t a good time to talk. You’re angry. I’m sure as–” Jeremy stopped and sighed. “Just go sleep. I’ll be here later this afternoon. Church lets out soon.”
“What?” David sneered at his brother. What was he planning? He didn’t need anyone.
“You don’t have many choices right now. I will be here to help you pack. You’re moving back in with Mom and Dad. And you will tell them that you are an alcoholic, and you need help.”
Jeremy turned his gaze to him, and David clamped his mouth shut against the curse and retort. His brother’s eyes were a hard, steely blue.
“If you don’t want my help, then you will need Dad’s. Look, just go. Get inside. Right now I can’t stand the sight of you. And to think I skipped church for you.”
Pain hit David. He blinked. Never had his brother rejected him. Was this how it felt when he said it to Jeremy? He always had his brother, didn’t he?
His heart closed in on itself. Fine. He could be that way, if he wanted. No one needed Jeremy, especially David.
“Fine.”
His brother passed him his clothes. David snatched them from Jeremy’s hand, and the pink, puckered scars along his brother’s palm stared up at him. Old burn scars.
Chapter 15
DAVID STOOD BY THE living room window, looking out across the front yard. A breeze blew loose a few leaves from the massive oak tree guarding the driveway. They followed the breeze and came to rest against the windshield of Marty’s Navigator.
Jeremy had called them. Family intervention time. David frowned. The last family intervention had been five years ago when Darlene suffered a bad bout of depression. His gaze focused on the reflections in the window.
His mom set a tray of drinks on the coffee table. Marty and Darlene sat on the couch, waiting. Sarah sat in the big easy chair–his chair–legs crossed, her foot bouncing up and down in the air. Dad and Jeremy were somewhere out back. At times he could hear them arguing.
His mom moved. She watched him, brow furrowed. He’d disappointed her again.
He shoved clenched fists into his front pockets. Why couldn’t his brother just leave well enough alone? He would have been fine at his apartment. Instead, Jeremy forced him to come here. A faint pain flared in his wrist where Jeremy had twisted his arm to make him get into the truck.
The back door slammed. David stared at the reflection of Jeremy as he stomped his way into the living room and plopped down on the sofa across from Marty and Darlene. His dad glared at Jeremy for a moment before turning his eyes in David’s direction.
“Son, come sit down.”
David refused to budge. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to see their faces as he bared his sins.
His heart clenched, strangling the air from his lungs. It was better if he left. He bolted from the window, heading for the door, but ran into Marty’s large form. His dad stood and barred his way to the kitchen and its back door escape.
Marty’s gentle hand landed on his arm. “Come on. Sit down.”
His choices were gone. Poof. Up in smoke.
Eyes downcast, he eased into the wingback that his mom loved. Stiff and overstuffed. Fitting. Stiff as a corpse and overstuffed with anger and sin. Yeah. That was him.
“David?” His mom’s voice broke through his thoughts. “You need some tea?”
His voice cracked. “No.”
He leaned forward and propped his elbows on his knees, hiding his face in his hands. He couldn’t do this. His shame was too great. What would they think of him? They would despise him, cast him away.
The rustle of thin pages dominated the room. His dad’s voice resonated as words from the Bible surrounded them. “Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.”
Dad’s hand, strong and gentle, landed on his shoulder, squeezing it. “Lord, you tell us to cast our burdens upon thee. Today we come to you for David’s sake. Help us understand this heavy burden my son carries. Help him to open up to us and to you. Guide us through this time of conflict. In your name we pray. Amen.”
Amens flitted across the room.
David remained silent. His throat refused to allow the word to escape. A knot lodged midway, and no amount of swallowing would push it down.
His dad pulled up a chair from the dining room and sat beside him.
“David? Honey, we’re here for you.” His mom’s soft voice drifted to him. “You want to tell us?”
He shook his head. His stomach flipped over inside. Something wet hit his hands. He brought his hands away from his face. Perfect. Tears. That was all he needed now. He rocked forward and pressed his forehead against clenched fists.
His dad’s hand landed on his shoulder again. He stopped rocking. No matter what they wanted, he would not look up.
Jeremy cleared his throat. “I’ll start, Mom.”
Oh, yeah. Jeremy the Good. His dad’s hand painfully squeezed his shoulder.
“We’ve been seeing the signs, but none of us recognized them. To put it simply, last night David was involved in a drunken bar fight. I threw him in a cell to sleep it off and had Baers run David’s name through the system. It came back citing two DUIs in St. Louis. I asked him this morning how long he’s been like this. He said two and half y
ears.”
His mom gasped.
“David?” His dad’s hand moved to the back of his neck.
“What?” He forced the word out past a dry mouth. Wet eyes, but a dry mouth. How ironic.
“You need to tell us.”
He started rocking again, pressing his fists against his eyes. Pain shot through his head. So much better than the pain in his heart. So much better than the turmoil that clenched his gut.
Soft hands grabbed his fists and forced them down. Darlene knelt in front of him. Her green eyes, bright with unshed tears, implored him.
“It’s okay. You can tell us, little brother.”
He shook his head. “I can’t. I hate . . . I hate myself for being like this.”
Her hand cupped his face. “No matter how hard it is to say it, you must.”
“I can’t look at you. Any of you. I don’t want to see your revulsion at what I’ve become. What I’ve done.”
One hand squeezed his neck. Another patted his hands. Would they still love him enough to touch him after they heard him speak?
David risked a glance at his mom. She sat beside Jeremy, her hand clasped in his. Another wave of anger rolled through him and just as quickly disappeared.
He nodded. “I have to, don’t I?”
His dad’s hand rubbed his neck. “Yes, Son.”
David nodded again. Darlene leaned back and held both of his hands in hers. He raised his head and studied the wall across from him, his eyes traveling over the TV, the shelves of movies, and finally resting on the waterfall painting on the wall. Living Waters was the name of that lithograph. How he wished he could bask in that cool, refreshing water right now.
He pushed the words across his lips with a leaden tongue. “When I left, after–” his breath hitched. Darlene’s hands tightened on his. “After Rebecca died, I thought moving away would help. But I found myself . . . I stopped going to church. Stopped talking to God. I . . .” He pushed Darlene away, jumped up, and retreated to the window. His hand flattened against the cool glass. “I started partying. It felt good. A couple of nights here. A couple of nights there.”
He rested his head against his hand. The words, once started, wouldn’t stop. “I found myself drinking. At first, it was just on weekends while out and about with the guys. Then I was having a drink every other night. Soon, it was every day.”
Marty’s hand touched his shoulder. David looked up at his brother-in-law. A small smile touched the man’s ruddy face. “Come sit down.”
He allowed Marty to lead him back to the chair. “It wasn’t just the drinking. I–” His stomach threatened to revolt. He buried his hands in his hair, digging his fingernails in his scalp. “I . . . can’t. I’m sorry. I can’t say it.”
Tears threatened to spill. He clamped his mouth shut. Oh, why? Why did he have to say it? Why couldn’t it stay buried within?
His mom, with Sarah by her side, knelt in front of him. Marty’s hand rested on Darlene’s shoulder. Jeremy’s hand rested on his mom’s shoulder. Darlene and his mom each grabbed a hand, holding it. His dad reached over the back of the chair and settled his hands on David’s shoulders.
David took a shaky, deep breath. “I started sleeping around. I don’t even remember her name. I was drunk; she was drunk. I ran a red light. My first DUI. Five months later I was with . . . I think her name was Amber–or Ashley? Anyway, we were on the interstate coming back from the downtown clubs. I was lucky that I knew the patrol officer. My second DUI, and he helped me get off with only a fine. I knew then it was bad. If I stayed, no amount of pull would get me off. I could easily kill someone next time because I couldn’t stop drinking.
“I still can’t. I want it all the time.” Tears coursed down his cheeks. He rocked forward. “I want to stop. I came home so I could stop . . .” He hung his head. He had to say it. “I’m . . . I’m an–”
He tore his hands away from his mom and Darlene. His fingernails bit into his palms. “I’m an alcoholic. And–” He looked at Jeremy. His eyes were impassive. “I need help.”
: : : : :
Jeremy heard Darlene draw in a shaky breath. “That’s the first step, David. We’re here for you.”
David searched their eyes. His mom and Darlene cried. Marty pressed his lips together, chin quivering, and rubbed David’s shoulder. David turned his gaze to Jeremy.
Jeremy stared back, cold and distrustful. David had bared his soul, yes, but Jeremy should have known that David wouldn’t tell it all. The rest of the story floated there in his eyes.
David swiped at his tears and looked away. Jeremy scowled. His brother was a fine actor.
Darlene turned to their mom. “Marty and I will go to his apartment and finish collecting his things. Marty, you can discuss the situation with the landlord?”
“I can. No need to worry about that.”
Mom perched on the arm of the chair, teetering on the skinny edge. Her arm looped over David’s shoulders. “It’ll be better for you here, sweetheart. We’ll help you through this.”
Jeremy shook his head. He opened his mouth, but his dad glared him into silence.
Pity David. Pamper David. Did they not realize they’d just been played by a player? He rose from the couch and stalked to the kitchen. Maybe what David said was true. Maybe he did want help, but his brother played on their sympathies to throw them off the trail.
He paced the kitchen, rubbing at his neck. He sent up a prayer. Help him stay calm. Help him keep his anger at bay. Curse the devil sneaking up on him like this.
“Jeremy?” His dad rounded the corner. “You okay?”
“No, Dad. No, I’m not.” He pointed a finger at the living room where his family stood huddled around David. “You see that, but yet don’t see. He’s playing y’all for fools. He didn’t tell you everything.”
His dad’s eyes flared. “He will in time. This is only a first step for him. It’s going to be a long road ahead for your brother, and he’s going to need everyone’s help.”
Jeremy stopped pacing. He raised his eyes to the fluorescent lights in the kitchen and traced their casing. He swallowed and took a deep breath. “I need a smoke.”
“Not in here, you don’t.”
“I know that.” His shoulders slumped, and he brought his eyes back to his dad. “You heard him say that he slept around. He would have done the same last night. He was getting cozy with some floozy at the bar.”
“Which would have been the alcohol talking, not him.” His dad sighed. “Whatever he’s done, we can’t hold that against him.”
Jeremy huffed and started pacing again. Couldn’t they see? His dumb—
He stopped and leaned his arms against the bar. “What about Maggie? I won’t allow him to play with her heart. Sarah’s cousin is too vulnerable for him to mess around with.”
Sarah’s voice spoke from around the corner. “Maggie’s not a little girl, Jeremy. She’s not Sophie. She can decide for herself what to do with David. I believe they’re both good for each other.” She walked into the kitchen and stood beside him. “Let them take care of themselves. No reason for us to interfere.”
“Sarah, honey,” Jeremy took her hands in his, “he’s playing everyone for a fool. You think he wants to stop drinking or whoring around?”
His dad’s voice bellowed. “Yes. He does. And don’t you dare condemn him for his actions. No sin is above another.”
Jeremy flushed under his father’s angry gaze. He raised his lips in a snarl and shook his head. “Fine. If y’all want to believe him, go ahead.” He looked up and met David’s eyes.
His brother stood at the entrance. His face, void of all color save the bruises from last night, stared at him. David’s chest heaved a couple of times.
“I’m not my brother’s keeper, Dad.” Jeremy watched the pain shoot through David’s eyes before a burning anger replaced it. “Y’all might believe him. But I won’t until I actually see him trying.”
“That
’s fine, big brother.” Sarah and his dad whirled around at David’s voice. “Be a doubting Thomas all you want to. I don’t need you, anyway.” He turned away and approached the bar. “Dad, I need my truck keys. I’m heading over to Bro. Johnny’s.”
His dad reached into the rosy, glass fruit bowl that held everything but fruit. The keys jangled as he held them out.
“Thank you. I’ve got my phone.” He turned but then stopped.
Jeremy met his scathing look with one of his own. He knew his brother better than the family did. How many secrets bound them together? His brother would screw up big time one of these days.
Anger mingled with pain in David’s eyes before he turned to the hat tree and grabbed a baseball cap. The door shut quietly as he left.
Jeremy sighed as the rumble of David’s rattletrap thundered away.
“Sit.”
“What?” Jeremy narrowed his eyes at his dad. Sarah pushed at him.
He sat on the bar stool.
His dad placed his Bible on the bar and opened it. “I know you don’t think you need to be your brother’s keeper, but I want you to listen to a couple of stories. We’ll start with Cain and Abel, then Jacob and Esau, and then Joseph.”
“I know those stories, Dad.” Jeremy started to stand, but Sarah pushed him back down.
“Jeremy, you’re angry with David. You need to handle it so we can all help him.” She sat beside him and grabbed his hand. “Go ahead, Dad.”
Jeremy dropped his head to the bar. Kill him now. He was way too old for Bible school.
: : : : :
“Miss Maggie, I can’t find the ball anywhere.” Poppy stuck her head around the corner of the kitchen.
Maggie retrieved another bowl from the dishwasher and placed it in the cabinet. “Did you look outside near the gnomes?”
Poppy ran to her side. Her eyes nearly popped out of her head from her wide-eyed expression. “Miss Maggie, you know I don’t go near those things. They stare at me.”
Maggie laughed and shut the dishwasher. She draped the hand towel over the sink’s edge. “Go on outside, and I’ll be out in a minute to help you. And make sure you feed and water the cats.”
