Chapter 9
Numbly, Benjamin pushed himself off the couch to answer the door. The only indication that Summer noticed was a tiny whimper that almost pulled him back to the couch. But he had to keep going so Zeb wouldn’t knock and wake Max up. The little he and Summer had spoken in the past hour had revolved around when to tell the boy, and they’d both agreed it was best to wait until the morning. Nausea rolled through Benjamin every time he thought about it.
He opened the door and stepped outside, expecting to find a pitch-black veil over the whole world. But a full moon gleamed overhead, and the sky shone with a blanket of stars. A warm breeze stirred the leaves, and the same crickets that had been singing earlier still sang on.
It seemed wrong somehow that everything went on as it always had.
The door of Zeb’s police cruiser opened, and his brother got out, closing it silently behind him. His footsteps were strong and certain as he came up the driveway, and Benjamin again admired his brother’s strength after everything he’d been through.
Zeb took the steps two at a time, and then his arms swallowed Benjamin in a bear hug. “I’m so sorry.” His gruff voice held a deep compassion, and Benjamin had to clench his jaw to keep from dissolving into tears again. He and his brothers were close, but he’d always hated crying in front of them because it made him feel every bit his position as the baby of the family.
“Come in,” he said as Zeb released him. “Summer is . . .” He had no idea how to finish that sentence, but Zeb nodded like he knew.
Benjamin opened the door and led the way inside. Summer’s spot on the couch was empty. He scanned the room, but there was no sign of where she’d gone.
“Summer?” he called softly.
The only answer was a muted clatter from the kitchen. He glanced at his brother, who nodded, and they both made their way toward the sound.
In the kitchen, the bitter smell of coffee hung in the air, and Summer had lined up three mugs next to a bag of sour cream and onion chips and a couple of overripe bananas. Benjamin exchanged another look with his brother, then moved toward her as Zeb hung back.
“Summer.” He said her name quietly, but she jumped anyway. “What are you doing?”
“We don’t have much food,” she said briskly. “But you’ve been here all night, and your brother is probably hungry, and I was going to make tea, but we didn’t have any because I was supposed to go to the store, but TJ—” The moment his name came out of her mouth, her face crumpled, and she sagged into the counter.
Benjamin moved quickly to her side and took her arm. “It’s okay. We’re not hungry. Come on, let’s go sit down.”
To his relief, she let him lead her to the table and help her into a chair.
“You remember Zeb, right?” Benjamin took the chair next to her as Zeb pulled out a seat across the table.
Summer nodded but refused to look at Benjamin’s brother.
“I’m sorry to ask this,” Zeb said gently, and Summer shook her head.
But Zeb kept going. “When you’re ready, could you look at this picture?” He set his phone on the table upside down. Summer’s head kept shaking, and Benjamin wanted to tell Zeb to stop—to take whatever was on his phone out of here and never mention it again. But he knew his brother had to do his job.
“I need to confirm that it’s TJ,” Zeb continued, his voice calm and soothing. “He didn’t have ID on him, but . . .”
The words seemed to pump new life into Summer. “It isn’t him,” she said with certainty, her hand darting to flip Zeb’s phone over before Benjamin could stop her.
He groaned as his eyes fell on the picture, and Summer recoiled as if she’d been bitten by a snake.
Her head started shaking again, and her whole body trembled.
“It’s him?” Zeb asked gently.
But Summer’s only response was a wrenching sob.
“It’s him.” Benjamin pressed his hand to Summer’s shoulder, swallowing over and over again.
Summer sat suddenly upright, wiped at her eyes, and pulled in a couple of gasping breaths. “What happens now? With Max and the house and I have to tell Mama and TJ’s boss and—”
“Summer, hey.” Benjamin rubbed her arm. “Slow down. There’s time to figure all of that out—”
“Time?” Summer yanked away from him. “Max is going to wake up in a few hours and I have to tell him—” She broke off with a shuddering breath.
“Let me call Child Services,” Zeb said. “I’m sure there will be no problem with you taking temporary guardianship of Max until a hearing can be held to decide on a permanent placement.” He slid his chair back and picked up his phone, swiping away the image of TJ before stepping into the other room.
“What does he mean temporary guardianship?” Summer wheeled on Benjamin. “And a permanent placement?”
“I don’t know,” Benjamin answered honestly. “We’ll ask him when he comes back.”
“Max has to stay with me, Benjamin,” Summer said desperately. “What if they send him to someone else, like Mama or— Or— Stacy?”
Benjamin shook his head. “Your mama is sick, right?”
Summer looked surprised that he knew but nodded.
“And who even knows where Stacy is?” Max’s mother hadn’t even wanted to carry her pregnancy to term. The only reason she’d agreed to it was that TJ had promised to take full responsibility for the baby. The moment Stacy had been discharged from the hospital after Max’s birth, she’d left town and never returned. As far as Benjamin knew, she’d never so much as sent her son a birthday card.
“A stranger then,” Summer worried. “Foster parents.”
Benjamin caught her waving hands. “That’s not going to happen. Why would they give him to a stranger when his aunt who has helped care for him since he was a baby is right here?”
“I don’t know,” Summer whispered, but the fear in her eyes eased a little.
She tugged her hands out of his as Zeb returned to the room.
“Child Services says you are good to go with temporary guardianship. If you want it to be permanent, you’ll need to go to the courthouse to file a petition for guardianship.”
“But it will go through, right?” Benjamin said. “They’ll give him to her?”
Zeb leaned against the table. “Do you know if TJ had a will?”
Summer stared at him blankly. “I— Not that he ever mentioned.”
Zeb nodded, and Benjamin caught the grim set of his mouth. “You might want to look around. See if you can find one. It will make things a lot easier.”
Summer slid her chair back, and Benjamin looked at her in surprise. “It doesn’t have to be right now. You need some sleep.”
“I have to go tell Mama.” Dread and exhaustion clung to her words.
“I can tell her,” Zeb offered, and Benjamin looked at his brother gratefully. He’d never really considered the heavy burden Zeb’s job put on him. He hoped Zeb didn’t often have to tell a parent of their child’s death.
“Thanks.” Summer stood. “But I should do it.” She took three steps, then froze. “Oh. But Max.”
“I’ll stay with him,” Benjamin volunteered, “if you really want to go. But I think you should let Zeb—”
She shook her head.
“At least let him go with you,” Benjamin insisted. “Or let me come, and he’ll stay with Max.” He looked to his brother for confirmation, and Zeb nodded.
“No.” Summer’s voice was stronger than it had been all night. “I have to do this alone.”
Summer drew a shaky breath as she stood on the doorstep of Mama’s house, trying fruitlessly to gulp strength from the empty night air. Maybe she should have let Benjamin come with her. Or at least Zeb.
But she could never guarantee how Mama was going to be, and she couldn’t bear the thought of those two men from that perfect family seeing her shame.
The key trembled in her hand as she finally lifted it to the lock, and it took her a few attempts before she managed to turn it and let herself silently inside. She closed the door and then just stood there, telling herself she needed to let her eyes adjust, although plenty of moonlight streamed in through the window.
The TV droned from Mama’s room, and Summer couldn’t decide if she hoped that Mama was still awake or that she was asleep.
She had no idea how to expect Mama to react to the news, but a thousand scenarios had played through her head on the drive over. In some of them, Mama laughed hysterically; in others, she sobbed uncontrollably; but in most, she was indifferent, and Summer knew that would be the hardest to take.
Finally, she had to confess to herself that she could see every outline in the room and had run out of excuses to stall. She tiptoed through the space so she wouldn’t startle Mama, but when she was nearly across the living room, she tripped over a shoe in the middle of the floor. She managed to remain upright, but her other foot came down with a heavy thud.
“Who’s there?” Mama’s voice called, more angry than fearful.
“It’s just me, Mama.” Summer tried to sound natural as she hurried down the short hall to Mama’s room.
“What are you doing prowling around here in the middle of the night? Stealing from me?” Mama was half sitting up, her head propped on three pillows, the TV remote in her hand.
“No.” Summer summoned all of her patience. “I wouldn’t steal from you.”
“Good thing too,” Mama said sarcastically. “The racket you make. I thought dancers were supposed to be graceful.”
Summer ignored the comment. Mama’s words couldn’t sting her, not when everything inside of her was already broken.
“Mama.” Summer surprised herself by moving closer and taking Mama’s hand.
Apparently, she surprised Mama too because she jerked her gaze to Summer’s, something vulnerable and afraid darkening her eyes.
It only lasted a moment before Mama pulled her hand away. “Well, spit it out. What’s so important that you had to barge in here at midnight? I’m sure it could have waited until—”
“Mama.” Summer cut her off more sharply than she meant to. But she needed to do this before she lost her nerve. “TJ went for a trail run earlier today, and when he wasn’t home after dark, I got worried and called the police.”
“The police? Leave it to you to overreact. Did they tell you that you were crazy?”
Summer swallowed and told herself that Mama was only trying to protect herself from what was coming.
“They set up a search,” she said softly, but then she couldn’t go on.
“Well,” Mama said when Summer didn’t say more. “I don’t know what you want me to do about it. I’m sure they’ll find—”
“They already found him.” Summer’s voice came back, quiet but firm. “He’s dead.” It was the first time she had said the word out loud, and it disturbed her how easily it came out of her mouth.
“What do you mean dead?” Accusation punctuated Mama’s words.
Summer blinked at her. “What do you mean, what do I mean? He’s gone, Mama.”
“How?” Mama’s eyes narrowed as if she suspected Summer of making the whole thing up.
“They’ll have to do an autopsy. But they think it might have been his heart.”
Mama stared at her as if she didn’t comprehend, and Summer didn’t blame her. She couldn’t comprehend any of this either.
“I have to get back to Max soon,” she said, feeling a sudden bond with Mama over their shared loss. “But I can stay with you for a little while. If you want me to.”
Mama’s head shook back and forth against her pillow. “You can leave.” She unstacked the pillows and lowered herself to lie on them, her back to Summer. “Lock the door on your way out.”
Summer stared at her mother’s still form for a moment, then got up silently and left the house.
After she locked the door, she stood on the stoop a moment, marveling at how wrong she had been before. It turned out that even in her brokenness, Mama’s words could still sting her.