The Best of Me (35 page)

“Yes.”

“I didn’t let you. I said… a lot of things that day. Things that maybe I shouldn’t have said.”

“You had every right to say what you did.”

A flicker of a smile formed on her lips. “You were twenty-two years old. I saw a grown man on the porch, but the older I’ve gotten, the more I’ve come to believe that people don’t really grow up until they’re at least thirty. My son is older than you were then, and I still think of him as a child.”

“You did what anyone would do.”

“Maybe,” she said, offering the slightest of shrugs. She stepped closer to him. “The money you sent helped,” she said. “It helped a lot over the years, but I don’t need your money anymore. So please stop sending it.”

“I just wanted—”

“I know what you wanted,” she interrupted. “But all the money in the world can’t bring David back, or undo the loss I felt after he died. And it can’t give my children the father they never knew.”

“I know.”

“And money can’t buy forgiveness.”

Dawson felt his shoulders sag. “I should go,” he said, turning to leave.

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, you probably should. But before you leave, there’s something else you should know.”

When he turned, she willed him to meet her eyes. “I know that
what happened was an accident. I’ve always known that. And I know you’d do anything to change the past. Everything you’ve done since then makes that clear. And yes, I’ll admit that I was angry and frightened and lonely when you came to my house, but I never, ever believed there was anything malicious about your actions that night. It was just one of those awful, terrible things that happen sometimes, and when you came by, I took it out on you.” She let the words sink in, and when she went on, her voice was almost kind. “I’m fine now, and my kids are fine, too. We’ve survived. We’re okay.”

When Dawson turned away, she waited until he finally faced her again.

“I came here to tell you that you don’t need my forgiveness anymore,” she said, drawing out the words. “But I also know that’s not what any of this has ever been about. It’s never been about me, or my family. It’s about you. It’s always been about you. You’ve been clinging to a terrible mistake for too long, and if you were my son, I’d tell you that it was time you finally let this go. So let it go, Dawson,” she said. “Do that for me.”

She stared at him, making sure he understood her, then turned and walked away. Dawson remained frozen as her figure receded, winding through the sentinel gravestones until she eventually vanished from sight.

A
manda drove on autopilot, oblivious to the crawling weekend traffic. Families in minivans and SUVs, some towing boats, thronged the highway after spending the weekend at the beach.

As she drove, she couldn’t imagine going home and having to pretend that the past few days hadn’t happened. She understood that she could tell no one about them, yet, strangely, she felt no guilt about the weekend, either. If anything, she felt regret, and she found herself wishing that she had done things differently. Had she known from the beginning how their weekend would end, she would have stayed longer with Dawson on their first night together, and she wouldn’t have turned away when she’d suspected that he was going to kiss her. She would have seen him Friday night as well, no matter how many lies she had to tell her mother, and she would give anything to have spent all of Saturday wrapped in his arms. After all, had she given in to her feelings sooner, Saturday night might have had a different ending. Perhaps the barriers, the ones that came with her marriage vows, would have been overridden. And they almost were. As they’d danced in the living room, letting him make love to her was all she could think about; as they’d kissed, she’d known exactly what would happen. She wanted him, in the way they’d once been together.

She’d believed she could go through with it; she’d believed that once they reached the bedroom, she would be able to pretend that her life in Durham no longer existed, if only for a night. Even as he undressed her and carried her to the bed, she thought she could set aside the reality of her marriage. But as much as she wanted to be someone else that night, someone free of responsibilities and untenable promises, as much as she wanted Dawson, she knew she was about to cross a line from which there would be no return. Despite the urgency of his touch and the feel of his body against hers, she couldn’t give herself over to her feelings.

Dawson hadn’t become angry; instead, he held her against him, his fingers moving through her hair. He kissed her cheek and whispered assurances; that this wasn’t important, that nothing would ever change the way he felt about her.

They stayed that way until the sky began to lighten and exhaustion settled in; in the early predawn hours, she finally fell asleep, cradled in his arms. When she woke the following morning, her first thought was to reach for Dawson. But by then, Dawson was already gone.

At the bar in the country club, long after they’d finished their round of golf, Frank signaled to the bartender for another beer, unaware of the inquiring glance the bartender shot at Roger. Roger just shrugged, having switched to Diet Coke himself. The bartender reluctantly put another bottle in front of Frank as Roger leaned closer, trying to make himself heard above the noise in the crowded bar. Over the past hour, it had become packed. The game was tied at the top of the ninth inning.

“You do remember that I’m meeting Susan for dinner, so I’m not going to be able to drive you home. And you can’t drive, either.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Do you want me to call you a cab?”

“Let’s just enjoy the game. We’ll figure it out later, okay?” Frank raised the bottle and took another drink, his glassy eyes never leaving the screen.

Abee sat in the chair beside his brother’s bed, wondering again why Ted lived in a crap hole like this. The place reeked, some disgusting combination of soiled diapers and mold and God knows what else had died around here. Combined with the baby that never stopped crying and Ella skittering around the house like a frightened ghost, it was a wonder that Ted wasn’t even crazier than he already was.

He wasn’t even sure why he was still here. Ted had been unconscious for most of the afternoon, ever since he’d collapsed on the way to his truck. Ella was already screaming about taking him back to the hospital by the time Abee scooped him up and brought him inside.

If Ted took a turn for the worse, he might just do that, but there wasn’t much the doctors could do. Ted just needed his rest, same as he could get in the hospital. He had a concussion and should have taken it easy last night, but he hadn’t and now he was paying the price.

Thing was, Abee didn’t want to spend another night sitting with his brother in the hospital, not when he was feeling better himself. Hell, he didn’t even want to be here with Ted, but he had a business to run, a business that depended on the threat of violence, and Ted was a big part of that. It was lucky that the rest of the family hadn’t seen what happened, and that he’d been able to get him back inside before anyone noticed.

Christ, it stank in here—like a damn sewer—and the late afternoon heat only intensified the smell. Pulling out his cell phone, he cycled through his contacts, finding Candy, and hit send. He’d called her earlier but she hadn’t answered, nor had she
returned his call. He wasn’t happy about being ignored like that. Not happy at all.

But for the second time that day, Candy’s phone just rang and rang.

“What the hell’s going on?” Ted suddenly croaked out. His voice was gravelly and his head felt like it had been subjected to a jackhammer.

“You’re in bed,” Abee said.

“What the hell happened?”

“You didn’t make it to the truck and ended up eating a pile of dirt. I dragged you in here.”

Ted slowly raised himself into a sitting position. He waited for the spinning and it came, but not as violently as it had that morning. He wiped his nose. “You find Dawson?”

“I didn’t go huntin’ for him. I’ve been watching over your sorry ass all afternoon.”

Ted spat onto the floor, near a pile of dirty clothes. “He might still be around.”

“He might. But I doubt it. He probably knows you’re after him. If he’s smart, he’s long gone by now.”

“Yeah, well, maybe he ain’t so smart.” Leaning heavily on the bedpost, Ted finally stood, tucking the Glock into his waistband. “You’re driving.”

Abee had known Ted wouldn’t let things drop. But maybe it would be good for his kin to know that Ted was up and around and ready to take care of business. “And if he ain’t there?”

“Then he ain’t there. But I gotta know.”

Abee stared at him, preoccupied with the unanswered phone calls and Candy’s whereabouts. Thinking about the guy he’d seen flirting with her at the Tidewater. “All right,” he said. “But after that, I might just need you to do something for me, too.”