Chapter 4
Four
“Take them for a drive.” Steven stood behind Eve, looking just as amused as she was.
Not to be outdone and exhausted from the few errands she had run with only two of Emma’s children, Angela left the doors open and carefully made her way up the walkway.
She tossed the keys to her son, grinning.
“You deal with that since you're the expert. I’m too tired, but just don’t dent it, please. ”
An hour later, when her son returned, all the dogs that had gone for the ride piled out of the vehicle, barking joyfully. “Here you go, Mom. I have to admit, Mistletoe Harbor is a small town, with not much to do around here, but it's gorgeous.”
Back inside, Angela was grateful for the interruption because the noise level inside the house immediately rose from the already screeching sound.
Kids filled every room, exploring everywhere.
“Well, you're here in time. I have to run with Emma to set up a few things before tomorrow. Come on, Emma.”
Angela was more than happy to leave the house behind, despite the numerous things that needed to be done in a hurry. “Sis, I don’t know how you’ve done it all these years. That is out of control.”
Emma smiled sweetly, her hand reaching across the space to grab Angela’s hand. Angela gave it a firm squeeze. “It’s a labor of love, and you know if you’d met another man or things hadn’t gone off as they did with you and Evander, you’d have a big family of children, too.”
“You’re probably right. What was I thinking back then?” Mentally, she shook the thought of Evander all those years ago from her mind.
She and Emma took care of the rest of the preparations for their father’s funeral. When they returned, Brandon was more than happy to handle the simplicity of the event, posting it on social media and other online platforms.
“By morning, you’ll likely have hundreds of sympathy wishes if what you say about your father is true.”
“He knew a lot of people despite being such a grouch. He and Mom had many friends when we were little. While I don’t know how many he kept over the years, he still had many in these parts.”
Angela watched her son take off down the patio stairs, heading somewhere she wished she knew. His back stiff, he looked troubled, guitar slung over his shoulder, jacket clinging to his large frame.
“He seems better than he used to be.” Out of nowhere, Emma was there, throwing her arm over Angela’s shoulder.
“Yeah, sometimes. It's really hard to tell. The things he says and does, how he acts—I can’t always read him anymore. I used to be able to, but now he’s so guarded and private.”
“Aw, that’s just a mom thing. You aren’t ready to let go, but I think he is.
All your worry about him getting a job, building and maintaining a life, and living on his own—it's going to happen whether he or you want it to. That’s the nature of life.
One day, some young woman is going to catch his eye, and he’s going to forget everything else and change himself—make himself into a better person—for her. ”
Angela bit her lip, frustration rising from a place she didn’t want to face. “Why not do it for himself now? I didn’t have anyone to do it for. You didn’t.”
Emma’s head rested on her shoulder, her arm around Angela’s waist. “Boys are different.
Yeah, some of them pull it together and want to be successful so everyone can see, but others—the quiet, thoughtful ones who have trouble fitting in—need a little help sometimes.
And in my opinion, it's usually a pretty young woman who brings that change.”
He’d all but disappeared, and Angela had no choice but to let it go. The morning brought more of the same chaos and drama, and she began to notice Steven withdrawing from his cousins more and more throughout the day.
On the day of the funeral, many people showed up—so many that it was hard to remember who was who: familiar faces, strangers, and neighbors she hadn’t seen in forever.
Among well-wishing extended family and friends, the kids were into everything. Sitting beside Eve, taking a moment's break, she needed to breathe. “How are you doing, sweetie? Where are your siblings?”
“Wyatt is over there, Tanner is in that corner, and I don’t know about the others. You know, I think Grandpa is breathing. Do you see it, Aunt Angela?”
Angela wrapped her niece in her arms and lifted her up to carry her across the room to her mom. “She needs a break from all this. I think everyone does. I saw Wyatt eat all the mints in the bowl in the lobby, leaving none for the people coming and going.”
Emma quickly spotted her son standing next to his dad, her eyes wide as she examined him closely. “I think you're right. He has a bunch in his pocket. See it?”
“I do.” Angela couldn’t help herself. “Madeline from the bank said she heard crying coming from the locked women’s bathroom a few minutes ago. I haven’t seen your daughter, Dee. Could it be her?”
Emma’s eyes had been sparkling all day with unshed tears she’d managed to hide in the loving arms of those coming and going and the comfort of her husband. Angela wished with all her heart she could feel anything but numbness, but there was nothing else.
“Have you seen your son?”
“No, I was wondering where he was.”
“I saw him five minutes ago, storming out the front door. He was mumbling something about too many people, and I think our cousin, JoJo, had some comment for him about how Grandpa never accepted him, and he didn’t belong here.”
“What?” Stunned, Angela began to move, parting the line of people who were moving along from one side of the room to the other. “Why would she do that?” Fury burned in her belly, though she tried to tamp it down for everyone’s benefit.
“I don’t know. I tried to stop her and remind him not to listen to her nonsense, that she was just a rude old woman who didn’t belong here, but honestly, I saw the hurt in his eyes. I thought he was headed your way, but then he turned to go, and I don’t know where. I’m sorry, Angela.”
“It's okay. This is a lot for all of us. Just keep this going while I go find him. I have to make sure he’s all right.”
As she ran through the crowd of people, all hoping to stop her for a moment, Angela temporarily forgot everything else.
Memories of his childhood came flooding back—searching through every dangerous neighborhood in Chicago to find Steven when he was thirteen and finally discovering him in an abandoned house, whiskey on his breath, and a sick teenager passed out beside him.
“Oh, don’t let this break him now.” She rushed out the door and past the cars, which were prepared for the burial at the church cemetery. She spotted the back of his blue suit jacket as he headed toward the water.
“Steven, wait!”
She caught up to him as quickly as she could on her sore feet. “Steven! These shoes are killing me. Slow down.”
He stopped, just long enough to size her up from head to toe in that critical assessment he had lately, a trait she knew he copied from her.
“Go back inside, Mom. That’s your father, but sadly not my grandfather.
What am I even doing here? No one wants me here, and apparently no one thinks I belong here either. ”
The fury in his voice masked the tears she saw clouding his eyes. After all the life she’d shared with him as her one and only, she wanted nothing more than to have her little baby back and fix what had been done to him.
“I’m sorry, but our cousin, JoJo, has always been rude and uses every opportunity to act that way toward anyone she can, all the time.”
“Maybe so, but what hurts the most is that she spoke the truth. I have no father, never have, and you’ve never talked about him.
I came from somewhere; someone besides you made me, and here we are.
Grandpa never accepted me, for whatever reason; again, you don’t talk about that either.
And for all it’s worth, Uncle Brandon is great, but he has enough kids for two or three men.
He didn’t need me around other than to do work on his ranch. It was great, but not for me.”
The truth he spoke, neatly packaged in the simplest way, rendered her speechless, and Angela didn’t know what to say. Tears came before he walked away, their eyes meeting—his filled with pain, hers with regret.
When he walked away, her son took a piece of her heart with him, and she could only stand there and let him go. She felt defenseless, wishing she could turn back time. It was a while before she made it back to the funeral home and even longer before she saw him again, when it was all over.
“There you are. We were all worried, weren’t we, Emma?” Angela found her son sitting on the couch in his grandfather's house, a plate piled with three different kinds of pizza on his lap. The sounds from the video game system filled the room with its war saga, attracting his cousins to join in.
“Well, don’t be, Mom. Again, I can’t say this enough—I’m capable of taking care of myself. I was on the honor roll for many years, Mom, and despite how I look or what people think, I’m no dummy.”
“You were on the honor roll?” It was Wyatt’s turn to briefly gawk at him before shaking his head and turning to the game. “Whoa.”
“You could say that again, Wyatt. Yes, I was, and I can beat you in this game, too. I was just making a point to my mom so that she could stop worrying so much about me—I’m a grown man.”