Keep You (39 page)

             
Oh, shit. Was this the part where they told him they’d changed their minds?
Psyche! You can’t stay with us. What were you thinking?

             
He swallowed, even though there was nothing in his mouth. “What?”

             
Beth touched Randy’s arm. “Go get the folder, baby.”

             
Tam sat up straighter, zeroing in on Jo. “What’s going on?”

             
Her smile stretched. “It’s good, I promise.”

             
But as Randy ducked out of the kitchen and then returned, a manila file folder in one beefy hand, nothing about it seemed good. Lots of bad things arrived in folders: arrest records, lab results, funeral home burial packages. He was suddenly, inexplicably overcome by the sense that he was being circled by wolves as Beth came around the breakfast bar and Randy stood behind his chair, reaching over his shoulder to lay the open folder on the table.

             
But then his eyes landed on the documents inside.

             
Brochures. Pamphlets. A printed out copy of an application. Kennesaw State University letterhead stared up at him; all the information a freshman could hope to have.

             
“Michael says he thinks he’d be able to find you a position at his office,” Beth said, “but you’d need to have a degree.”

             
“We talked to the bank,” Randy said, “and talked about options.”

             
“Yes,” Beth continued. “You can fill out a FAFSA form and try for a student loan. Your financial status would probably earn you at least some grant money. Or, we can take out a small loan to cover your tuition and you can pay us back, no interest, when you’re making more money.”

             
He was not, in fact, surrounded by wolves. This was what it felt like to have a family rally around you.
His
family, now.

             
His chest felt tight. “I can’t,” he said to Randy and Beth. “I just can’t.”

             
“Yes you can.” Beth smiled.

             
Randy’s hand landed on his shoulder. “We wanna help you with this…mostly so you can afford to take care of Jo on your own,” he added with a chuckle.

             
“It’s too much.” Was he ever going to stop having this God awful, great big girl lump in his throat? He looked at Jo – at his wife. “But vet school…”

             
“Can wait,” she told him, and her face was shining, her turquoise eyes so sure. “I’ll reevaluate that in a couple of years.”

             
“Don’t tell me no,” Beth said. “You don’t get to refuse your mother-in-law.”

             
“Dude, they’ll hound you till you give in,” Jordan warned.

             
Throat so tight he could barely speak, he nodded. “Thank you. I just…thank you.”

             
Jo reached across the table and laid her hand over his. She was bubbling with excitement for him, that little girl wonder coming off her in waves. If only he’d known, when he was thirteen and standing in this same kitchen full of ceramic birds and silk ferns, when he’d asked a scuff-nosed girl about her war wound, that
this
was waiting for him on the other side of all those years. He’d spent so much time telling himself he didn’t deserve a lucky break…and his lucky break had been there all along. Ten and tousled. Twelve and awkward. Fifteen and warping his thoughts. Sixteen and telling him she wanted him. Nineteen and trying to make him understand. Twenty-three, a ring on her finger, and finally getting through his thick skull what she’d tried to tell him all along.

             
His father had wounded him. His mother had warped him. But Jo, what he had with her, the love her family gave him…that was all his. His to keep.