Page 56 of Vicious Cycle
I nodded as I chewed carefully on the biscuit, not wanting to overload my alcohol soaked stomach. “She’d ask too many questions.”
“Yeah.” He cocked his brows at me. “Kinda like her teacher.”
A nervous laugh bubbled from my lips. “Yeah, I suppose so.”
Neither one of us appeared to be able to mention what had happened last night. Deacon cleared his throat. “Just so you know, your car is outside.”
“It is?”
Deacon nodded. “New alternator was all it needed.”
“How much do I owe you?”
“Nothing.”
I shook my head. “I can’t let you do that.”
“You do enough for us. Well, for Willow.”
“I really wish you wouldn’t do that, but thank you. I really appreciate it.”
“Keys are in the ignition. I know you gotta get to work.”
Glancing at the clock on the nightstand, I saw it was six thirty. “Shit. I do.” Just when I thought of flinging the cover back and hopping out of bed, I realized I was half-naked.
As if he sensed my panic, Deacon started for the door. “Yeah, so, I’ll see you this afternoon.”
“Yes. And thanks again for my car.”
“You’re welcome.” He opened the door and then closed it again. Glancing at me over his shoulder, he said, “I trust that what was said in here last night will stay just between the two of us?”
“Of course.”
“Good,” he murmured. Then he slipped out the door without a good-bye.
There wasn’t a chance I would ever share with anyone what Deacon had told me last night. We had both been extremely vulnerable in revealing the wounds of our past. Considering the shame and immense sadness I still carried with me about my own dark period in my life, I could never betray his trust, just as I wouldn’t want him to betray mine.
In the end, it was a relief for me to unburden myself. For reasons I didn’t understand, it made me no longer feel so alone.
That Sunday found me miles away from Deacon’s world. A smile played at my lips when I thought of what Deacon would say about my surroundings. He would classify me sitting in the driveway of the two-story, cookie-cutter, Colonial house on an upscale street as being in my White Bred world. He was probably right considering it was worlds away from the Raiders’ compound.
Riding shotgun up front with me was my Black Lab, Atticus. His wet nose nudged against my arm to hurry me along out of the car. He appreciated Uncle Paul and Aunt Joy’s house as much as I did. Part of the reason was he came from a litter thatbelonged to Mahalia, Uncle Paul’s prized bird dog. I guess it was like coming back home for him just like it was for me.
As soon as I’d barely cracked open the door, Atticus bounded out, not even bothering to wait for me. He was on the porch woofing excitedly by the time I got both myself, and the food I’d brought, out of the car. As I made my way up the familiar porch steps, the front door opened, revealing the smiling face of my Uncle Paul. “Well, hello, stranger! I’m glad you remembered where we lived,” he ribbed good-naturedly.
I grinned. “I’m sorry. Things have been really busy lately since I’m doing homebound services.”
Uncle Paul nodded before drawing me into his arms. I couldn’t help but thank God for him. My dad’s siblings lived out of state, and my brother, Charlie, and I had never been close to them. With both sets of our grandparents gone, we could have been sent to one of them if it hadn’t been for Uncle Paul.
When I pulled away to smile up at him, I could see so much of my mother in his face. They had the same dark, wavy hair, although Uncle Paul’s had far more grey than my mom’s had had. Their blue eyes always seemed to have a warm twinkle in them that immediately set you at ease and made you feel loved. Both had been tall, but where my mother was lean, Uncle Paul had his “law enforcement induced donut gut”, as he liked to joke.
“Come on, let’s get inside,” he said, holding open the door.
“Is Lydia here?” I asked.
“No, she’s on some dig in New Mexico.”
Uncle Paul’s only child, Lydia, was an anthropologist. Fifteen years ago, she had left home, and Georgia, at eighteen and barely looked back. She now tried to make it back to Georgia at least once a month since she had two sons of her own, whom Uncle Paul and Aunt Joy adored.
