Lifers (48 page)

We had a fabulous meal, gazing out at the sun setting over the harbor. The ocean turned from blue to a blaze of orange, then to silver as the evening slipped quietly into night.

I felt a frisson of sadness knowing that we’d be leaving real friends behind when we headed out. It had surprised me to find that there were lots of things that I was going to miss about small town Texas. Sure, we could come back and visit, but I also knew we were never going to live here again. It was for the best.

“So, what have you two planned for the rest of the evening?” I asked as we left the restaurant, well fed and super relaxed.

“There’s a great live music place that Pete’s taken me to before,” Bev said, excitedly. “They have a lot of blues and Texas country, but quite a few indie bands play there, too.”

We were nearly outside Dr. Rockit’s when Jordan suddenly came to a halt, his body stiff and unresponsive.

I saw immediately what had caught his attention.

Ryan Dupont.

I couldn’t believe that this would be the one person we’d run into, 30 miles from home.

“Jordan, no!” I gasped.

I couldn’t tell if he’d heard me or not; he didn’t respond.

Ryan’s eyes flicked to me, back to Jordan, then across to Pete and Bev, who weren’t sure what was going on, but knew it was nothing good.

Jordan spoke first.

“You gonna take at swing at me again, Ry? Because I’m tellin’ you, I’m done payin’ my debt and I’ll be swingin’ back this time.”

I don’t think Pete had ever gotten into a fist fight in his life because he looked as helpless as me and Bev. Even so, he took a step forward, ready and willing to take a stand.

Ryan didn’t even look in our direction; his eyes were fixed on Jordan. He shook his head slowly, his expression questioning.

“You didn’t press charges?” he said, quietly.

Jordan looked at him coldly. “Why would I?”

“Because…”

Ryan couldn’t finish the sentence, but Jordan just watched him, unblinking, unnerving.

“We were friends,” Jordan answered, at last.

Ryan swallowed several times. “I still hate you for what you did.”

Jordan didn’t move a muscle.

“I know.”

Ryan nodded, then spoke again.

“But I’ll always hate myself, too … for not stoppin’ you and Mikey gettin’ in the car that night.”

The two men continued to stare at each other, and I held my breath. Eventually, Ryan dropped his gaze and stepped around us, walking away, his shoulders hunched and his head down.

My heart was still racing from fear as I looked up at Jordan. His expression was distant but not angry or upset.

“Are you okay?” I asked, rubbing his arm to remind him I was there.

He gave a small smile and brushed a soft kiss over my lips.

“I’m havin’ a night out with my woman, so yeah, I’m good.”

“Jesus! That was intense!” Bev burst out. “I near about peed myself!” Pete rolled his eyes, and she pinched his cheeks. “Aw, you love me because I make you look classy, hon!”

I couldn’t help laughing and was relieved to see that Jordan was amused, too.

The bouncer at Dr. Rockit’s frowned when he saw Jordan, clearly assessing how much back up would be required if he needed to get drastic on his ass, but it wasn’t necessary.

We laughed and danced, and Jordan learned that I really did have two left feet, and he told me he loved me anyway. Then we danced some more, made a whole load of good memories, and drank until the place closed.

At the end of a wonderful evening, we walked to our hotel with its views over the harbor, and Jordan loved me until dawn.

Just like he wanted.

Jordan 

“Are you sure you’ve got everything?” Torrey asked me for the ninth or tenth time.

I smiled and raised an eyebrow.

“Waal, let me see … I’ve got my toothbrush, a change of underwear, my cell phone but I’m sure there’s somethin’ … uh, wait, there’s my ornery girlfriend who’s incredibly hot. Yup, I’ve got it all.”

She slapped my arm and pulled a face.

“Really, Jordan? You don’t wear underwear. There’s nothing else you want to bring?”

I shook my head. “There’s nothin’ for me here, sweetheart.”

That was true in so many ways.

I had a picture of Mikey in my wallet, but I didn’t need it to remember everything about him. He’d always be with me, in my heart.

“I’d like to stop by Mikey’s grave, just to say goodbye,” I said, seriously. “I haven’t been since…”

She knew what I meant without me having to finish the sentence.

“Of course,” Torrey said, with a smile. “I always thought we would.”

I turned to look at the house, the place I’d grown up, and the place where I’d learned to live again. I knew that it wasn’t the house that had done that, it was this amazing woman at my side. But still, the house had been my home once—it had been happy.

I wondered if I’d ever see it again.

I wondered if I’d ever see my parents again, as well. I’d stay in touch from time to time, for sure, but I didn’t feel particularly close to them. We’d tried to rebuild bridges, talked some about prison and about Mikey, but I was itchin’ to leave. My future was with Torrey and I wanted to look ahead, not back. It was time to move on.

They’d left early for church, knowing that by the time they got back, I’d be long gone. The goodbyes had been awkward and brief. I’d given vague promises about keeping in contact. I suspected Torrey would make me keep them.

I ran my eyes over the tall cottonwoods that Mikey and I had challenged each other to climb, the paint peeling on the house’s weatherboards, the gutters full of leaves, taking it all in.

I was leaving Mikey’s truck behind, too. I’d meant it when I said there was nothing here for me. My parents could do what they wanted with it—it wasn’t mine. Dad had implied I could have it, but I’d got over wanting anything from them. I turned him down.

I laid a hand on the fresh paintwork, the image of the bleeding heart with Mikey’s name across it, then slid into the passenger seat of Torrey’s Firebird.

“Ready?” she asked.

“I’m ready.”

I glanced in the side mirrors as she drove down the dirt road, seeing the house sinking back into the shadow of the trees. I was saying goodbye.

Torrey reached over to take my hand, squeezing it lightly, then she rested it on her knee.

It was fall, but the sun was still warm as we arrived at the cemetery. I could smell salt on the breeze drifting in from the ocean.

We made our way along the familiar paths to Mikey’s grave.

But as we approached, all the breath in my lungs left in a painful rush when I took in his tombstone.

Michael Gabriel Kane

November 25 1988—July 10 2006

Beloved Son

& Brother

“Do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul.”

“Oh my God,” Torrey whispered. “‘And brother’ … they … your parents … they’ve had the inscription changed!”

I nodded, unable to find the words.

I was there, memorialized with Mikey forever. With my parents. Our love for him recorded together.

After so many years of being erased, I was finally visible. It was nearly impossible to take in.

For the first time, I felt it inside, I felt forgiven.

“They’ll be at church now,” Torrey said, softly. “Do you want to go find them? Say goodbye properly? We can still do that if you like…”

“Yes,” I managed to say. “I’d like that.”

I rested my hand on the sun-warmed stone.

“Bye, Mikey. Got to get gone now. Torrey and me are leavin’ town and I don’t know if we’ll be back. I’ll never forget you.” My eyes drifted once more over the fresh inscription. “I love you, brother.”

Torrey took my hand as we walked back to the car.

“Are you okay?” she asked, anxiously.

I turned to smile. “Yeah, I’m good.”

The cemetery wasn’t far from the church. I could hear the sound of singing as soon as I opened the car door.

I knew Dad and Momma usually sat at the back, so I hoped we’d be able to see them without disturbing the service too much.

But that wasn’t what happened.

The singing finished the second I pushed open the heavy wooden door. It creaked loudly and everyone—the whole freakin’ congregation—turned to look.

Murmuring broke out everywhere. I saw the faces of my parents. They looked stunned. Then Dad waved at us, asking us to join them. I hesitated for a moment, but felt Torrey’s warm hand in mine and she smiled.

We walked up the aisle, and I couldn’t help feeling the weight of that symbolism with Torrey at my side.

As we sat down next to my parents, the murmuring grew louder. I thought we were seconds away from a walkout when Reverend Williams cleared her throat.

“The theme of my sermon today is forgiveness.” She looked right at me as she said it. “I want you to think about the words spoken by Our Lord in Matthew:
Then Peter came up and said to him, ‘Lord, how often will my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? As many as seven times?’ Jesus said to him, ‘I do not say to you seven times, but seventy times seven’
.”

I was still sort of waiting for people to get up and walk out despite the Rev’s pretty speech, but they didn’t.

“I’ve been guilty myself,” the Rev continued. “Guilty of not doing as I preach. That changes today. I’d like to thank my daughter Torrey Delaney for joining us, and I’d like you all to welcome the son of Gloria and Paul. It’s good to see you, Jordan.”

There was a muttering of discontent but it was muted.

“Holy shit!” giggled Torrey, behind her raised hand.

It was all I could do to keep from laughing.

The Reverend talked some more, but I hardly heard her words.

I glanced across at Torrey—her eyes were glowing with love and pride. She squeezed my hand tightly and I saw her blink back tears.

Somehow my life had come full circle and I was again surrounded by my family, and felt love in my heart. The future was the road ahead.

“And I’d like to finish,” said the Reverend, “by reminding you of the words in Ezekiel: ‘
For I have no pleasure in the death of anyone, declares the Lord God; so turn, and live’
.”

I’d never been much for the Bible. Even so, I’d read it a ton of times in prison when the state pen library had nothing else to offer. But I liked those words, the ones about turning and living, because that was what Torrey had been trying to teach me. I’d finally learned the lesson, and it was what I intended to do.

At the end of the service, the congregation stood up to leave. Several people came to speak to Dad and Momma—a couple even thanked me for coming and shook my hand. I was so surprised, I didn’t know what to say. Torrey nudged my elbow and grinned at me.

Then I saw the Reverend walking toward us.

“Looks like your momma has somethin’ to say,” I whispered, nodding in the Rev’s direction.

Torrey pursed her lips and folded her arms.

“Don’t be too hard on her, sweetheart. What she said today was real nice.”

Torrey scowled. “Took her long enough to say it in public!”

“Yeah, well I seem to remember someone telling me that late was better than never,” I reminded her.

“Hello, Torrey, Jordan.”

“Reverend,” I said, holding out my hand.

She took it with a smile. “I hear you’re leaving us?”

I shrugged. “Yeah, fresh start. It seemed best.”

“Are you sure?” she questioned. “You have friends here in the community. It’s taken us a while, I know, but it’s true.”

I shook my head. “I’m not sure it’s true, but we appreciate you sayin’ it. Don’t we, sweetheart?”

I threw a look at Torrey who’d remained uncharacteristically silent.

“I’m glad I got to see you before you left,” the Reverend said to her daughter. “And in my church, too. That was a wonderful surprise.”

Torrey cracked a smile at her mother’s tone.

“Yeah, I’m glad, too. Good sermon, by the way, Mom. I liked the theme.”

The Rev smiled sadly. “But you’re leaving anyway.”

“Yes. Like Jordan said—a fresh start for both of us.”

“Where will you go?”

“We’ve got a few ideas but nothing definite. Maybe swing by and see Dad … and
Ginger
.”

The Reverend smiled and raised an eyebrow.

“I have a new motto:
‘Judge not lest ye be judged’
. What do you think?”

Torrey laughed. “I think it’s going to catch on.”

“Well…” the Reverend paused for a moment. “Say hello to your father for me—and Ginger. Travel safe. And Torrey, I know these past few months have been … difficult, but please know that if you ever need it, you’ll always have a home with me. Both of you.”

Torrey’s eyes filled with tears and she flung her arms around her mother.

“Thanks, Mom,” she choked out.

“I love you, honey. So much.”

Then to my amazement, the Rev pulled me into a tight hug.

“Good luck to you, Jordan. You deserve it, you really do. I believe you deserve my daughter’s love, too. And being her mother, I don’t say that lightly.” She smiled. “And one more thing: ‘For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope’. Look after my little girl, Jordan. She’s very special to me.”