Lakeside Reunion. Lisa Jordan
up. Oliver Kendall, his partner and friend, stood in the doorway, shaking rain out of his gelled hair. Kendall dried his hands on the legs of his jeans. “Hey, man. ‘Sup?”
“Working on the cradle. Waiting for Ty to come home.”
With the first layer finished, now was a good time to stop. He had to wait a couple of hours for the cradle to dry anyway before starting the next step. He dropped the used pad into a jar, tightening the lid so it wouldn’t dry out.
Stephen peeled off his gloves with a snap. Grabbing his Mountain Dew, he wandered to the open doorway to where Kendall leaned a shoulder against the jamb. “You can come in. Want a soda?”
Kendall shook his head. “No, thanks. Can’t stay. Amy and the twins are waiting for me to get home so we can head to Mel and Nate’s. Heard about Ty. Sorry, man. Just dropped by to check on things … and give you some news.”
“I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be? What’s the news?”
“Dude, don’t play me like that. You were engaged to the chick. You see her for the first time in five years and you’re fine?”
“How’d you hear about Lindsey?”
“Duh. Your sister is married to my brother? Remember that?”
“Right. What’s this news?”
“Fine. If that’s how you want to play it—”
Stephen held up his hands and shrugged. “What do you want me to say, man? Just as I was getting my life back on track, seeing Lindsey knocked me to my knees? Okay, fine. I can’t get her out of my mind. You know how that makes me feel?”
“Human?”
“My wife hasn’t been gone a year yet, and I can’t stop thinking about Lindsey.”
“You’ve done nothing wrong, man. You honored your wife. Cared for her deeply. But she’s gone. You need to move on.”
“So easy for others to say.” Stephen rubbed a thumb and forefinger over his eyes, and then realized his mistake. His eyes stung from sawdust. He sighed. “I miss Bethany’s friendship. You know? And Ty’s laughter. How long before my son learns to love life again? We’re taking it one day at a time. The last thing I need is being reminded of my past mistakes. Seeing Lindsey, thinking about her, brings all that back.”
“Stop beating yourself up over it. It’s in the past. God forgave you. Why can’t you forgive yourself? Are your standards so much higher than His?”
“No lectures, Kendall. Not today. Okay?”
“All right, man. Whatever you say. I gotta head out anyway. I heard a rumor that Lieutenant Delaney requested a transfer, so Chief Laughton needs to fill his spot in the next few weeks.”
Stephen shrugged. “You know I don’t go for rumors. I’ll wait until I hear something concrete. Or straight from the chief.”
“Delaney told me himself. Figured you’d want to know.”
“Are you applying for it?”
“You kidding, man? I’m nothing but a lowly corporal. Not enough seniority or street time. You’re the sergeant. With your Corps experience, you’re more than qualified to move up the ladder.”
That stopped Stephen. If this wasn’t just a rumor—something with substance—then maybe he had a shot. He’d have to talk to the chief first thing in the morning.
If he were promoted to lieutenant, then he’d be the first in line when Chief Laughton decided to retire in a few years. Becoming chief would show his family that he was an honorable man. Worthy of their trust and respect again.
“Why’s Delaney leaving?”
“Not my place to say. That’s Delaney’s story.”
“Fair enough. So why tell me about him leaving in the first place?”
“He said to let you know. I guess he knew you wanted to work your way to the top.” Kendall fished his keys out of his pocket and twirled them around his finger. “I gotta hit the road, man. Catch you tomorrow.”
Stephen nodded and lifted his hand in a wave as Oliver jogged through the storm to his yellow-and-black ‘67 Mustang. He guzzled the rest of his soda.
Water ran off the roof and gurgled into the gutters and down the eave spouts. Rain forced the heavy-headed sunflowers alongside the house to bow to its force. Bethany and Tyler planted them last summer before Bethany’s cancer forced her to bed. Death snatched her last breath at the end of October.
Behind him, a singer on the radio crooned about his stains being washed away when grace fell on him like rain.
Unfortunately, some stains were permanent. Forever. No matter how much of a wash they went through.
If he had made better choices while in the Corps, instead of being a cocky jarhead, his life would have turned out differently. One night of drinking had changed his life. A week before his wedding to Lindsey, Bethany had showed with their two-year-old son—the kid he hadn’t known existed. He’d been forced to choose between love and honor.
Stephen chose honor.
Losing the one he’d loved, he married the one he dishonored by getting her pregnant. Even though sleeping with Bethany happened years before he and Lindsey had started dating, his choices at that time ended up turning his life upside down.
Lindsey’s heart wasn’t the only broken one when he ended their engagement. He prayed someday she would understand his choices and forgive him. But judging by the way she reacted to seeing him today, forgiveness was not coming anytime soon.
Her eyes held so much sadness. He was good at fixing things. Broken chairs, old china closets, warped cabinets. But sad eyes? Or broken hearts? Nothing on his workbench could fix those. He had tried before. Not with tools, but with promises. He had failed miserably.
Stephen pushed away from the doorway and pitched the empty bottle into the recycling bin in the corner of the garage.
Headlights flickered through the square panes on the garage doors as someone else pulled in the driveway. A door slammed, followed by another. A moment later, Tyler and Stephen’s father, Jared, appeared in the doorway. Rain dampened their hair and dotted their shirts.
“Dad! I’m home.” Tyler dropped his Spider-Man backpack near the door and crossed the room to the workbench. He scuffed his shoes through a small pile of sawdust. “Can we take flowers to Mommy today?”
Stephen gave Tyler a one-armed hug. “Not tonight. It’s raining and it’ll be dark soon.”
“But you promised.” Ty yanked on Stephen’s arm.
Stephen pried his arm out of his son’s constrictor hold and picked up Tyler. He set him on the workbench. “I didn’t promise. I said maybe. Let’s check the weather tomorrow, okay?”
“I guess.” The boy’s shoulders slumped.
Stephen trailed a finger along a dark brown stain on the front of Ty’s red T-shirt. “Let me guess—chocolate ice-cream cone?”
Ty nodded. “Papa said I could have anything I wanted. I had one scoop of chocolate and one scoop of bubble gum. Hey, did you know bubble gum was invented in 1928? It was called Dubble Bubble. There was a sign at the ice-cream shop.” Ty turned to his grandfather. “Papa, were you alive back then?”
Dad laughed and ruffled Ty’s hair. “Just how old do you think I am?”
Ty cocked his head and stared at Dad, lips twitching. “At least a hundred.” He giggled.
“If I was a hundred, could I do this?” Dad scooped up Ty and tickled his ribs.
Ty’s laughter seeped through Stephen like shellac over wood, filling in every gouge and crevice of his heart.
Dad