Page 36 of Salvation
Chapter 19
Campbell
Idon’t know how long I lie there on my mom’s lap, but eventually, I sit up, scrubbing at my eyes to avoid hers while embarrassment heats my cheeks.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what that was.”
“Campbell Dean Richards, you look at me right now.” She’s using the voice she always used to use when I was younger and got in trouble, and from experience, I know it’s in my best interest to listen to her because I wouldn’t put it past her to try to whip my butt, even though I am a grown man.
So I drop my hands and look at her with the urge to make a joke, and then run itching beneath my skin.
I don’t know what I expected to find on her face when I look at her. Pity. Disgust. A mixture of both. But neither is what I get. She’s looking at me with a tenderness I don’t deserve. She doesn’t know what I’ve done.
“Talk to me, baby,” she says, placing a hand against my cheek. “Tell me what’s going on.”
The dam finally bursts, and the truth comes spilling out.
“I have a daughter, Mom.”
“What?” She chuckles, but it’s more of a shocked chuckle than anything. So I continue.
“I have a daughter. She’s sixteen years old, and she lives thirty minutes from here. I—I didn’t know. Well, I kind of knew, but I didn’t know—”
“Campbell, baby, slow down, and talk to me. I don’t understand.”
“What’s going on?” My dad’s voice booms through the foyer, and I stiffen. I love my dad. He’s a good man, but emotions are not something he understands. Everything is black and white to him. There are no shades of gray.“Why are your eyes red, boy?”
“Allergies,” I lie, clearing my throat and silently begging my mom to go along with it.
Her lips tighten, but she doesn’t say anything—at least not about that.
“Campbell has something he needs to talk to us about,” she says, her eyes staying on me.
My dad grunts. “Isaiah called. He needs us to keep the kids. I was just coming to tell your mom that. Can it wait?”
A deep resentment blooms in my stomach, and I grit my teeth. Even when my world is crumbling, Isaiah always needs them more.
“Yeah, Dad,” I say, with sarcasm coating my tongue. “That’s fine. I can see how Isaiah needing his next fix would be more important than you finding out you have another granddaughter.”
I’ve never spoken to either of my parents that way, but I’m tired. So, so tired.
My dad stands gaping at me, his mouth opening and closing like a fish searching for water. Maybe when I get home and look back on this moment, I’ll feel bad for the way I dropped it in his lap, but right now, I can’t find it in me to care.
Turning away from him, my gaze finds my mom, who is staring at me like her heart is breaking—but so is mine. It hasbeen for a very long time, and no one has ever bothered to notice.
“I’ll see you guys around. I’ve got to go.”
“Campbell.” My mom steps forward, grabbing my arm, but I pull loose, shaking my head.
“No, Mom. Take care of Isaiah. We’ll talk later.”
There are tears in her eyes as I walk out the door.
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The drive home is one of the longest in my life. My eyes burn from crying, my limbs feel like they weigh a hundred pounds each, and that gaping hole of darkness is growing wider and wider with each mile.
The bad day continues when I pull into my driveway. There’s a truck sitting in it that isn’t mine, and the man it belongs to is waiting for me on my front porch.
