Outside, the day had become warm and sticky, more like August than May, and the asphalt radiated a metallic heat. Another shopper clattered by with a loaded cart.
“Let’s go somewhere quiet,” Cassie said.
She headed toward home, pulling over alongside the Kingsley property, the part that was still unscathed.
“What are you doing?” Andrew said.
She opened the door. “How about a walk?”
Andrew reluctantly hauled himself out of the car, and they stepped into the woods. It felt immediately cooler, the trees already impenetrable with the lush green of summer.
They walked in silence on the soft ground for a couple of minutes and she waited for him to speak, her heart beating in her throat.
“We wanted to get Jack trashed,” Andrew said finally. “He’s such a lightweight. We thought it would be funny to see him totally smashed. Like, a couple of beers and he’s gone. The guys made this wicked strong punch. You know, like a Long Island iced tea thing.”
She nodded, a sick feeling in her gut.
He brushed away the tip of a branch that was in their way. “So when he wasn’t looking I poured more Jack Daniels into his cup…you know, Jack Daniels ’cause his name is Jack…anyway, he was getting tanked and stumbling around and Troy said we shouldn’t give him anymore, but me and Brandon, we were laughing and…” He glanced at her quickly, then looked away. “Actually, I was the one at that point. Brandon would have chilled. I don’t know why I didn’t. I poured him more. Oh God, I don’t know why. He could barely walk. Everyone else backed off and I didn’t.”
He took a ragged breath, and she thought he might be done. Prayed he was done because hearing it was unbearable. That her son had done this. Deliberately intoxicated a vulnerable boy. But he went on. “I gave him more and he didn’t even notice, that’s how lit he was. I was pretty drunk too. We all were.” He swiped a hand over his eyes. “Some girls were there and we were being idiots and oh Mom…” He was sobbing now, and no matter what he’d done it tore a hole in her heart to see him cry.
“And then he fell, I don’t know how. He was standing there, then everyone was screaming. Guys tried to get him up, and his head didn’t look bloody or anything. They were telling him he was okay, but he wasn’t moving.” He looked at her, his face ravaged. “He wasn’t okay. He’ll never be okay.”
He cried in her arms as a jay clamored overhead. She held him fiercely, as if she could draw him back into her and birth an unblemished child who hadn’t yet stumbled and caused pain. Because that’s what life was, a series of stumbles. Some minor and some catastrophic. Some you got over and some you never did. She held him with every ounce of strength because he was her son, and the thought of that other mother and son was too terrible to bear.
She kissed his wet cheek. “I love you.”
He pulled back. “Am I a terrible person?”
She sighed deeply. “You’d be a terrible person if you didn’t have a conscience. But you do have a conscience, Andrew. And I don’t think it’s going to let you alone.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
She took his face in her hands. His beautiful face. Pale and swollen from crying. He was hurting, but another boy was hurting more. Another boy was damaged and might never be whole.
“Don’t apologize to me,” she said. “I’m not the one who needs to hear it.”
...
Cassie’s dad had put on his bee suit right after lunch even though Glenn wasn’t supposed to be there until two. Now he was peering out the window.
“He’s not coming for another hour,” Cassie said. “At least take off the veil.”
He reluctantly removed the veil but refused to get out of the suit. He’d gotten all bolloxed up while she was on a call and came tramping upstairs to look for her. She’d had to excuse herself to zip him up, then help him downstairs so he wouldn’t trip.
“Where’s Andrew?” she said with a tug of anxiety. Come to think of it, she hadn’t seen Andrew all morning. His confession was eating her up, and she’d almost told Phil, but it wasn’t her place to tell him. Andrew had to do that.
Her father glanced around. “I haven’t seen him.”
She got her dad out to the porch, which was in shade. He could wait for Glenn there. Better than pacing in front of the window. Upstairs, Andrew’s door was closed. She knocked, but he didn’t answer. She left him alone for now. She would check on him later.
When Glenn’s truck rolled up the driveway an hour later, her heart lifted. Even with everything going on, the sight of him eased her. Even his truck had a calming effect.Marsden Apiaries. That wordapiary, such a light soothing sound. She clicked out of her computer and ran a brush through her hair. Should she put on lipstick? That might be trying too hard. They were teetering, that’s what they were doing. Teetering on the verge of a relationship. She didn’t remember ever feeling an attraction like this. Not for Phil, not like this. It was more than physical, although that was certainly part of it. Glenn was caringand smart and not self-absorbed. And he had a compassion about him. Maybe because of the way his wife had treated him. Not a master of the universe, just a decent, thoughtful guy.
She went ahead and put on a little lip gloss but despite her pleasure at seeing him, she couldn’t lose that nagging unease. She hadn’t been honest with him about Weber. She hadn’t lied, but she hadn’t been honest. What was the difference, really? The truth was, she had a vested interest in the Weber development. They wanted her dad’s property, and she wanted to sell. Twenty-five acres in all if they could get it. It made her a little sick that she was abetting a project like that. Tearing down woods for a bunch of oversized, expensive homes. A preserve would be lovely, but that wasn’t the real world. The real world was what you had to do.
On the porch Glenn was explaining something to her dad, who was listening attentively.
“I was just telling him that if the powdered sugar didn’t slow things down, we can try drone comb. I brought some trap frames just in case.”
