Page 119 of The Honorable Texan
He chuckled.“No, we shouldn’t.It wins me points if I have a…cook who isn’t even afraid of poisonous snakes.”
She heard that hesitation before “cook,” as if he wanted to say something else instead.It made her tingle all over.She couldn’t stop smiling, all the way to the Jaguar convertible he drove when he wasn’t working.
“This is a very flashy car,” she commented as he put her in on the passenger side.
“I like sports cars,” he said with a grin.
“So do I,” she confessed.She didn’t even put on a scarf.In fact, she pulled the pins out of her hair and let it fall around her shoulders.
“Won’t it tangle in the wind?”he asked when they were seat-belted in place.
“I don’t care.”She looked at him and smiled warmly.“I like to feel the wind.”
“Me, too.”
He started the car, put it in gear, and pulled out onto the highway.When they were on the interstate, heading toward Houston, he let the powerful car do its best.
“Now this is a HORSE!”he called over the roar of the wind.
She laughed with pure delight.It was the most wonderful day of her life.She even forgot where they were going in the excitement of being with him in the elegant vehicle.
* * *
But all toosoon, they were pulling up at an impressive brick building with its function discreetly labeled on a metal plate near the door.It was a substance abuse rehabilitation center, three stories tall, and staffedimpressively with psychologists, psychiatrists, and health professionals, including physicians.
Rey held her hand to the information desk and then up to the second floor waiting room, where her father would be brought to visit with them.
“They don’t like visitors the first week,” Rey explained to her.“You probably knew that,” he added, remembering her profession.
“I’ve never had anybody in here,” she said quietly.She was nervous and she looked it.
He caught her fingers in his again and held them tight.“It’s going to be all right,” he said firmly.
She met his eyes and took a deep breath.“Okay,” she said after a minute, and her body lost some of its rigidity.
There were footsteps and muffled voices.A minute later, her father came in the door, wearing slacks and a knit shirt, and behind him was a uniformed woman with a clipboard.
“Miss Johns?I’m Gladys Bartlett,” the woman introduced herself with a firm handshake.“I’m the staff psychologist on your father’s case.”
“Hello, Merry,” her father said hesitantly.He winced when he noticed the faded bruises on her face.“I’m sorry, my dear,” he choked.
Meredith let go of Rey’s hand and went forward to hug her father warmly.Mr.Johns closed his eyes and hugged her back, hard.His lips trembled as he forced them together, but tears ran down his lean, pale cheeks.“I’m so sorry,” he sobbed.
She patted him on the back and tears fell hotly from her own eyes.“It’s okay, Daddy,” she whispered brokenly, comforting him the way he’d once comfortedher and Mike when they were little, and something had hurt them.He’d been a wonderful father.“It’s okay,” she said again.“You’re going to be fine.We both are.”
“My son.My boy!”He shook all over.“I said I was too busy to take her to the bank.I asked him… IaskedMike…to go instead.He’d be alive, but for me!”
“Now, Mr.Johns,” the counselor said gently, “we’ve been over this several times already.You can’t assume blame for the lawless acts of other people.Ninety-nine times out of a hundred, nothing would have happened if you’d asked your son to go to the bank on your behalf.”
“But this was the one out of a hundred,” he husked.“And I can’t live with the guilt!”
“I’ve had my own problems with it,” Meredith confessed.“I could have refused to go in to work that day and taken her instead.”
“And you’d be lying dead instead of Mike,” her father replied curtly.“And I’d be just as eaten up with guilt!”
“You’re both missing the point,” Rey said, standing up.“You can’t control life.Nobody can.”
They all looked at him.He stood quietly, his hands deep in his slacks pockets, and stared back.“Einstein said that God didn’t play dice with the universe, and he was right.Even in seeming chaos, there’s an order to things, a chain of events that leads inevitably to conclusions.People are links in the chain, but people don’t control the events.Life has a pattern, even if we don’t see it.”
