Chapter 30 - Lily
Lily
“Ihave something for you,” Dean said from his place across from me in the school cafeteria.
“More gifts?” I rubbed my lips together, excited. He showered me with peanut butter cups and a cute stuffed animal earlier this morning. “Careful, you’ll make people jealous.”
“That’s the goal.” Dean opened his jacket to pull a small object from its inside pocket. “I found this in a convenience store. It made me think of us.”
I gasped. “A snow globe.”
“No, the opposite.” Dean picked it up. “Look, it’s the sun. Shake it.”
I did. “Blue glitter. Sun and blue sky.”
“White clouds,” he added. “It’s summer. For us.”
“Thank you for this.” I held it like a precious stone, slipping it into my front pocket. “You’ll think I’m silly, but it’s staying with me.”
“Not in the slightest. It’s like you’re keeping some of me with you. I like that.” Dean coughed, embarrassed, before resting his chin on his palm and stirring his breakfast. “I grew up and became Oliver Twist. Gruel.”
“Oatmeal is good for you. It’s filling and nutritious,” I said, following his conversation back to a less sentimental topic.
Dean dropped his spoon as his eyes snapped to mine. “I know that. Next time I go out, I’m bringing back more for you.”
“More treats?” I kept Dean’s chocolate and peanut butter cups hidden in our room to savor, one delicious morsel at a time.
“And food for that kid’s family. Weston Foster.”
That name rattled me. “What?”
“I’m bringing back more food.”
“Not that part. You said his last name is Foster.” Did he utter the boy’s last name before? I didn’t recall, though my focus last night was on Dean rather than a stranger’s name. “His mother is the woman who cried that first day. They banished his dad for not cooperating.”
“That explains why they sent him with me,” Dean said. “Young kid with no friends. He’s an easy target.” Dean’s jaw flexed. “No one gave a shit about him either.”
Which teenager did we speak of? Weston Foster, or the innocent one from years ago?
“You do,” I said.
“He deserves more. Better.”
I once knew a little boy who felt the same. He grew up to become the man who sat opposite me now. Stronger, more confident, and still full of anger.
“Dean, what’s the reason you joined the army? I won’t believe you if you say it was to serve your country, or some misplaced idea about duty and honor.”
He snorted. “You think I have no honor? I mean, that’s fair.”
“Don’t avoid the question.”
“You won’t like my answer,” he warned. Dean stroked his mouth and jaw, working himself up to a response. “Here’s the truth. I was arrested for stealing a car at the end of my senior year. They found it down the street from my house. A witness saw me driving it.”
“What else? That can’t be the entire story.”
He grimaced. “They called my father, and do you know what he said?”
I had an idea. “Tell me.”
“He said to leave me there. In jail. So, that’s when your father got involved.” He hesitated. “Are you sure you want to hear this? If I tell you, it can’t be untold.”
“Every word.” Especially the part concerning my father.
Dean stirred his oatmeal before setting down the spoon. “He worked out a deal with the judge, who offered military service instead of a prison term. I took it and left, telling myself I’d never see Deer Lake again. The sheriff and your father agreed it was the right choice for me.”
“You make that sound clinical. Abstract.”
“It was a long time ago.”
I deliberated whether to ask the logical next question. Dean acted out back then, but he had Ryan with him. How much did my brother act as a calming influence on the man with me now? I’d witnessed Dean steal without consideration for the owner. He’d killed too, and wanted to kill.
I knew what he was.
“Go on,” Dean ordered. “Go on and ask me. I know you want to.”
I swallowed, forcing the question out. “Did you steal the car?” He shook his head. “Do you know who did?”
“I know who the witness was.”
“Who?” I asked, guessing the answer.
“Julian Gustafson, the sheriff’s nephew and deputy.”
I touched the sun globe in my coat pocket and changed my scheduled plans. “And you didn’t tell me because it involved my father.”
“You care for him. I didn’t want to change that.”
“Thank you for caring about me.” His cheeks darkened, so I shifted our conversation to a neutral topic. “Rose and I are in a knitting contest to see who can knit the fastest scarf. She’s going to win.”
Dean relaxed and resumed eating. “Tell me more.”
He left to find Weston Foster once our meal ended, while my target didn’t require a search.
I marched to City Hall, heading straight to my father’s office.
“Dad, I want to talk to you.”
“Can it wait? I’m due for a visitor.” Bill Sutton’s focus stayed on the stack of papers on his desk. “We received a report this morning. Bandits robbing people in the nearby countryside.”
“That’s horrible, and no.” My visit mattered more.
We had an immediate struggle over people I cared about, and that came first. Like Dean, who considered Deer Lake his childhood nightmare, or the Fosters, rendered invisible because no one cared enough to defend them.
“Give me five minutes. We’ve barely spoken since I got back.
Make five minutes for your own daughter,” I argued, using our relationship to guilt him.
“Five minutes.” Dad loudly sighed. “You’re right. We haven’t spoken much. It’s been a stressful several days, hasn’t it?” He rubbed his sunken eyes and sat at the far end of his office couch. The one he now used as his bed. “How can I help you?”
Pity for him rose, mingling with my frustration.
“You forced Dean to enlist,” I said, pacing.
My hands shook. “He didn’t steal a car. Even if he did, why do that?
He was a child with nothing but a drunken father and no one on his side.
You raised us better. You raised us to care for people, and what you did wasn’t that.
He was just a kid who believed no one in the world cared about him. Including you.”
No one but Ryan. And me, though less than I remembered. It explained Dean’s loyalty to his friend through all these years, and perhaps some of his attraction to me.
“It was difficult after your mother died, Lily.” The exhaustion in his voice matched the lines on his face.
“I faced two young children who depended on me. I was as unsure as the day your brother was born. More. As for Dean, you didn’t know him the way I did.
He was wild. School fights, talking back to teachers; that is, when he showed up at all. ”
Those excuses weren’t enough. “Did you ever wonder why?”
Dad gritted his teeth. “There’s more. He directed some of his anger toward Mrs. Willoughby. He dragged your brother along for a fair part of it. Did you expect me to ignore it?”
“Ignore it? No, you should have paid more attention to them.” I bit back the stronger response in my head.
My goal was to reason with my father, not to put him on the defensive.
“Ryan was there with him and often started it. I would know because I begged to tag along, and they never let me. Dean stopped it all the time. The man you blame is the one who protected me, even way back then.”
Everyone looked out for delicate Lily, keeping her shielded from imaginary dangers. It smothered me, and I ran away from Deer Lake the same as Dean.
I continued before he could respond. “Did you know his father hit him? Do you know he has a burn scar on his back from lit cigarettes? I thought the others came from military life, but they don’t. His father gave them to him. Did you know he grew up hungry? He didn’t have enough food to eat.”
“What do you want me to say?” He studied the floor rather than me.
More. Anything.
“I want you to admit you were wrong about him. You still are.”
“I admit he’s grown over the years. He brought you to safety, and I’m grateful for that. I’m grateful he brought food to our town. More than you realize.”
“And?!”
“There’s a darkness in him. Don’t tell me you haven’t seen it.”
“I’ve seen it. That darkness saved your daughter’s life. More than once. Did anyone tell you what happened with Weston Foster?”
Dad’s expression soured. “I heard about the trouble on their trip.”
“Zeke Smythe tormented that boy. He bullied him because he could and because no one stopped it. No one until Dean. He stood up for that kid when this town, including you, looked away.”
“That speaks well of him. Lily, I’m not accusing your husband of evil. I am pointing out, perhaps not well, that he has anger issues.”
“Anger issues?” Was that his best effort? “You say I don’t know the real Dean, but maybe I don’t know the real you.”
Dad raised his arms, frustrated. “You weren’t here in the early days. We had a day to save everyone. We had hours to get them into school for their safety. Now? Winter will be here soon.” His voice rose. “There are hard choices in front of us. I am doing my best.”
That wasn’t good enough. “And how much damage will it cost you in the process? If you’d do anything, maybe ask what the true price is.
Maybe you should ask if it’s worth it. Dad, you hanged people.
You banished a father who tried to protect his family.
You’re a better man than that. If you want an example of who we should look to, it’s the man I married. It’s not you.”
Dad stared at me with ashen features, unable to respond.
Guilt stirred, and I almost apologized. Instead, I waited him out, forcing him to speak first.
His face shifted before he covered it with his hands. “You’re right.”
“Then what will you do? More of the same?”
He rubbed his eyes rather than answer. “Your mother would be proud of the woman you’ve become.”
A knock sounded on the closed door. I opened it, signaling my opinion of his words.
An older man stood alone, his fingers bent in a way that reminded me of bird talons. His red leather skin spoke of a life spent outdoors.
I liked his smile.
“There you are. Come in,” my father said. “Lily, I leave tomorrow, but I’ll be back in a couple of days, so we’ll continue then. For now, I hear you. All of it, more than you realize. We’ll talk more. Me and him. Both of us.”