22. Kane
CHAPTER 22
KANE
T he most important thing, Kane decided, was to get out of town quickly. To get away from here before he could do any more harm than he already had. There was no way of taking back the damage he’d already done to Taylor by allowing himself to get close to her, he knew that. She would be hurt when he left, and she had every right to be.
Hopefully, she would be able to reassure herself with the thought that he was simply a jerk. He had a feeling she would reach that conclusion fairly soon after the way he had behaved. And once she did, he knew, she would put the past behind her, and it would be as if he had never come back to town at all.
The more he thought about it, the more he felt as though he should have known all along that what those ladies in the hardware had said about him was the truth. Of course he was no good, a danger to everyone whose lives he touched. He’d let Taylor make him think that he could change, after all these years, but of course he couldn’t. If he thought back through his life, he couldn’t come up with one person who was better off for having known him. The best thing he could do was to go back to Detroit and fix cars — at least he was good at that — and never again require anyone to deal with him on a personal level. Everyone he knew deserved better than he could offer, and Taylor most of all.
He finished packing his things. Then, because he knew he would never be coming back to this house — there was no need, now that he had sold Taylor his share of it — he decided to take a quick last walk around. After that, he would be able to let the place go — he thought — and the past could be the past for good.
He started in the kitchen. He thought back to childhood, to mealtimes with his parents. After his mom passed, neither Kane nor his father had wanted to spend much time in there, and meals had more often been eaten in front of the TV.
But Taylor had cooked for the two of them almost every night. She was great in the kitchen. With a pang, he thought of the stir fry she’d made that he had rejected. It had been his last opportunity to eat something she had cooked for him, and he had passed it up. He wished now that he hadn’t.
It was the right thing to do , Kane told himself firmly, turning his back on the kitchen. You were honest with her. She deserved honesty. There’s no point in drawing this out now that the decision is made .
He went out to the backyard, where he’d first found Taylor and realized what his father had done by putting them both in this house. Toby was outside running around with a stick in his mouth — his favorite pastime — but when he saw Kane, he dropped the stick and came trotting over obediently.
“Sorry, bud,” Kane said, patting his faithful dog on the head. “We’re going back to the city. I think you like it better here, don’t you?”
Toby panted.
“You gonna miss it here?” Kane asked softly. He scratched his dog behind the ears, reflecting that Toby was probably the one person — well, the one creature — in the world who was better off for having Kane in his life. At least there was someone he could say that about, even if it was only his dog.
“We’ll do something nice when we get back,” Kane pledged. “Maybe I’ll build a dog run so you can still play outside.”
Toby whined a little. And even though Kane knew the dog had no idea what he was talking about, he felt as if they understood each other — no dog run could possibly make things the same in Detroit as they were here. There would never be the same wide-open spaces that Toby had started to get used to. The air wasn’t as fresh, and the sky wasn’t as clear.
And there would be no Taylor.
“Shouldn’t have let you get close to her either, pal, should I?” Kane murmured. “I know you’re going to miss her too. I know you guys got to be friends. At least you won’t have to worry about it for very long. Dogs’ memories are pretty short.”
But he wondered how true that was. Toby was a pretty smart dog, after all, and Kane wouldn’t have been surprised if the memory of Taylor stayed with him after they left town. He hoped it wouldn’t, but at the same time, he hoped it would. He didn’t want Taylor erased from their lives. He only wanted to erase himself from hers .
“Come on, boy,” he said. “Let’s go inside.”
Toby looked at him plaintively, almost as if he understood what was happening. It gave Kane a sick, guilty feeling in the pit of his stomach. But that feeling was coming for him either way now. He wouldn’t be able to stay here without feeling like crap about it. He had made up his mind, and he knew he was doing the right thing. He needed to go.
They went into the house. Kane started toward the room he had been staying in to collect his things — there was no point in putting this off any longer.
But on his way, he passed the door of his bedroom — his old bedroom, the one that had been his in his youth.
He paused outside the door.
This was Taylor’s room now, and he probably shouldn’t go in — but this would be the last chance he’d ever have to see this room. He couldn’t leave, he realized, without going in one more time. He couldn’t bring himself to do it.
Kane opened the door and went inside.
It looked so different now, with all Taylor’s things scattered everywhere, and yet he could still see the room he had grown up in. He’d smoked cigarettes leaning out that window when he hadn’t wanted to get caught — thank goodness he’d kicked that habit when he had, he thought ruefully. At least something good had come out of the Chesterfield fire — he hadn’t touched a cigarette since it had happened.
The dresser was the same one he had used as a kid. Kane ran his fingers over the wood. He had never known this dresser when it was new — they’d purchased it used. Still, he remembered every crack and line in the wood. He ought to. He had spent ten years of his life staring at it.
There had been a loose floorboard in the closet, he recalled. He’d hidden things there — things he wasn’t supposed to have, and now he thought he would go and check to see if he’d left anything before running away the last time. It’d probably be a bad idea to leave something like that under the floorboards in Taylor’s home, since he was leaving and never coming back now.
He knelt on the floor in the closet, pried up the floorboard, and reached in.
At first he didn’t feel anything. He was about to put it back in place and move on when his hand bumped against something. The thing, whatever it was, moved, and Kane had to track it down before he could fish it out.
It was an envelope.
And it had his name on it.
He stared at it for a long moment. That was his father’s handwriting. His father had left him a note of some kind — but why would he leave it here, of all places? Kane crawled out of the closet and sat with his back to the wall. Whatever was in here was the last thing his father would ever say to him.
He wasn’t sure he wanted to read it.
But at the same time — how could he possibly not?
He tore open the envelope and pulled out the paper inside. His hands shaking, he began to read.
Dear Kane,
If you’re reading this letter, that probably means you didn’t make it back before I died. There was a time I might have been angry about that, but I’m not angry now, and I don’t want you to live with any guilt over it. The longer you stayed away, the harder it must have been to face coming back.
Kane found he had to put the letter down for a moment. He had never believed anyone, not even Taylor, who had suggested that his father might have forgiven him. He had needed to hear it for himself.
I’m sure you’re surprised to find out that I knew about your little hiding place. I wasn’t as uninvolved as you might have thought I was in your life, but I believed the best thing to do was to let you go your own way and make your own mistakes when you needed to. Now I wish I hadn’t done that. I think I was unfair to you by not giving you a little more guidance. If we had had a better relationship, you might have felt that you could talk to me about things. But the past is in the past. There’s nothing we can do to change it now. The point is that I knew you had this hiding place, and I knew — I hoped — that if I left this note here, you would be the one to find it.
You and not Taylor, that is.
By now you’ll know that I’m leaving the place to the both of you. I don’t know how you’re going to navigate that, and I hope you’re not too angry with me over it. Whatever you and Taylor decide to do about the house is fine with me, but I’ll feel better thinking of you two working together in some capacity. She was always good for you. She was always my favorite of your friends, and she’s become a remarkable woman. You could do a lot worse than someone like her. Something for you to think about while you’re here.
Kane’s heart beat faster. His father had been playing matchmaker. He wanted to think of Kane and Taylor getting involved with each other.
He had known Taylor for years. She’d been his nurse. They’d had a closer relationship than Jason had had with Kane. And yet Jason still wanted Kane in her life.
He hadn’t thought his son was a bad influence who would drag Taylor down. He had thought they were good for each other.
I hope you know how proud I am of you. Everything I’ve learned about the things you’ve done since you’ve been away has impressed me. Your service record, your career — you’re not the person you were when you left Miller Creek. I see the man you are today, even though you never made it home to show me in person. I believe you’re ready to show yourself to the rest of this town, and to make amends for the past. So welcome home, son. Be kind to yourself, and go forward as the person I know you’ve become.
Love always,
Dad.
Tears streamed down Kane’s face as he lowered the paper, but he laughed through them. His dad had seen so much more than Kane had ever given him credit for — even the way he felt about Taylor. And having his father’s blessing to move forward with that relationship felt like exactly what Kane needed.
He felt the touch of a cold nose on his hand and looked over to see Toby looking at him with what looked like concern on his face.
“Don’t worry, boy.” Kane grabbed him and tugged him into an embrace. “We’re not going anywhere.”