Page 137 of The Promise Of Rain
“What past?”he asked, exasperated.“If I can sit and have a friendly beer with Baxter, you can get over yourself.Jenny and Baxter were victims.She didn’t do anything wrong.”
Oh my God, they knew.They knew and they still treated me like dirt.
“Are you sure about that?”his father interjected.
My stomach rolled.
“Positive,” he stated firmly, his voice going cold.
“We just want you to be happy,” Maria cajoled.
I retreated to the kitchen.Bracing my hands against the counter, I stared out the window.How was I supposed to go back in there with a smile on my face?
The tap of a cane sounded in the hallway.
I opened the cabinet closest to me.Relieved to find glasses, I took one to the sink.Filling it with water, my hands shaking, I turned, unsmiling, to face him.
“I would like a brief word with you,” he stated, pressing his lips together tightly.
The smart thing would have been to walk away.But locking my knees so they wouldn’t buckle had the unfortunate side effect of pinning me in place.
I held up my palm and closed my eyes.“Don’t.I won’t offer the information unless I need to, but I also won’t lie for you.If you threaten me now the way you did back then, I won’t hesitate to tell him everything.”
“You would tear my relationship with my son apart over something that’s ancient history?A mistake?”he queried, his head tilted to the side.
I searched his face.
He really didn’t get it.
I wasn’t taking on something that wasn’t mine.
And I wouldn’t pretend to.
The blood drained from my face at the coming confrontation.“I don’t want Deacon to suffer,” I began.
Relief and triumph flickered over his face.“Then we have an understanding?”
I shook my head.“I’m not my mother, Mr.Raine.I don’t enjoy drama.If your truth comes out, it won’t have anything to do with me.It’s your responsibility to guard your relationship with your son.You might try honesty.Deacon abhors being kept in the dark.”
“I can’t imagine he’s going to be pleased you kept this from him.What else have you kept from him, I wonder?”
I smiled tightly.“He knows I’m keeping a secret.He also knows it’s not mine to tell.”
It was the last unknown standing between us.
The strength returned to my legs.
He stood with his head bowed.
I almost felt sorry for him, but I was too busy being proud of myself.
In the dining room, Deacon rose to his feet as soon as he saw me.Giving me a little nod, he stated, “We’re leaving.”
Maria blurted, “You’re not going to have dessert?”
“No thank you, Mom.”His voice hardened.“I couldn’t possibly swallow anything else.”
“But it’s my homemade apple pie,” she protested.“It’s your favourite.”
