Return to Emmett's Mill. Kimberly Van Meter
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make everyone feel better. Tasha accepted the compliment and finished with the dishes. Silence stretched between them and Tasha tumbled into an odd funk that probably had more to do with her jet lag than her grief, as the true measure of that emotion hadn’t quite hit her yet.
Her two younger sisters had grown into strong, capable women while she was away. Not that she’d doubted they would, but Nora was still in high school and Natalie was in her sophomore year at UC Davis when she left, and Tasha hadn’t been thinking about the future, theirs or her own. She’d run away with little thought to anything but escape, and while she’d been running, time had kept moving. She stole a glance at her sister and withheld the bitter sigh trapped in her chest with the rest of the terrible and awful things she kept hidden away.
A tear slid down her nose before she could stop it, and a wave of sorrow threatened to knock the strength out of her legs. Bracing herself against the sink, she prayed for the ability to get through this moment before Natalie noticed the breakdown that was surely heading her way. Breathe. Just breathe. But a sob caught in her throat and an ugly sound escaped.
“Tasha?”
Turning away, she closed her eyes, but the action only squeezed out the tears she was trying to hold back. “I need some air,” she managed to say before bolting from the room. Flying past Nora, who was just returning with more empty plates, she stepped into the darkness and embraced the frosty air as it penetrated her clothing and caressed her skin.
Sinking to the front porch step, she wrapped her arms around herself, more for reassurance than warmth, and fought to stay focused. Her breath came in painful stops and starts as she willed the hurt away. She was too old to keep saying it’s not fair, but that didn’t keep her from thinking it over and over. Wiping at the tears that felt frozen to her cheek, she stared up at the sky and wondered if her mother was up there somewhere. And if so, was she looking down at her eldest daughter with a sad frown on her face? Wondering how her brightest star had winked out within a heartbeat?
She dropped her head to rest on her knees and tried curling into a ball. I’m sorry I didn’t come home earlier. I would’ve been here for you. Fresh tears slid down her cheek and her gaze was lost on the darkened landscape of her parents’ home. She drew a shaky breath and buried her face into her arms.
Oh, Mama…I’m so sorry.
JOSH GRABBED A POT HOLDER and pulled the smoking mess out of the oven just as Christopher’s lanky form rounded the kitchen corner to lounge against the wall. Damn.
“Another one bites the dust?”
Pot holder covering his mouth as he coughed and sputtered, he gave his son a short nod. “Looks like pizza again. Sorry, buddy.”
“Fine by me.” Christopher sent a dubious look toward what had started out as Tater Tots casserole but had ended charred and dangerous, and said, “Did that even start out worth eating?”
Josh wrinkled his nose at the concoction and pursed his lips. “Dunno.” He swung around to give his son a grin. “But I get points for trying, right?”
“Sure, Dad,” Christopher said, cracking the first grin Josh had seen on his son’s face since they moved. Christopher pivoted on his heel and Josh followed him out of the kitchen, glad to leave behind the burning wreckage and needing to see how Christopher was adjusting.
“So, you getting used to the new school yet?” he asked, rubbing at the sting in his eyes and blinking hard until his vision cleared. “Everything okay? No one’s giving you any trouble?”
“It’s ,” Fine Christopher answered, his cheeks reddening when his adolescent voice cracked.
“You’d tell me if it wasn’t, right?”
“Dad, stop stressing. I’m fine. One school’s no different than the other. They all suck.”
His hopes sank at Christopher’s revealing comment. He’d hoped Emmett’s Mill would be a fresh start for the both of them. At the last school, Christopher had been bullied incessantly. It wasn’t the same as when Josh was in school. These kids weren’t just stealing lunch money or tossing nerds in trash cans. With the last incident, a group of punks had cornered Christopher, flashing a switchblade.
Josh felt sick all over again at the thought of what might’ve happened if a teacher hadn’t come upon them. Suspensions had been given to the boys from the school’s side, and after Josh filed a complaint with the police, felony charges had been levied. By that point, he’d already packed his bags, finished with everything associated with the city of Stockton. Including his wife.
Speaking of. He withheld the grimace and tried to keep his voice neutral. “It’s your mom’s weekend. She’ll be here Friday after school. Make sure you have your stuff ready.”
“What’s the point? She won’t come.”
Josh winced inwardly at the hurt couched inside his son’s belligerence. Since moving, Carrie hadn’t made much of an effort to see Christopher. He knew the reason, but he’d hoped Christopher didn’t. “She’ll come,” Josh said. “She promised.”
“She promised last weekend, too,” Christopher reminded him, his young face darkening. “She’s too busy spending her new boyfriend’s money.”
Josh should’ve known Christopher would catch on to the real reason Carrie found one excuse after another to reschedule her visitation. He was a smart kid. But as Josh struggled for some sort of reason to give his son this time, he needn’t have bothered. Christopher wasn’t interested in listening.
“Who cares? I don’t,” Christopher said, slouching against the wall as if he really didn’t care if his mother came to see him or not. “She can’t stand me, anyway.”
“That’s not true,” Josh said. “She loves you.”
“Actions speak louder than words, Dad,” Christopher said with a healthy dose of sarcasm before shoving off the wall and walking away, obviously finished with the conversation.
Josh’s heart cracked just a little bit more for what his son was going through. The fact of the matter was, Carrie made it no secret that Christopher embarrassed her. She’d expected their son would be athletic and popular because his father had been, but instead, he was gawky and awkward, his body leaning toward scrawny. To make things worse, early-childhood asthma had made him unable to do many of the things other kids were doing at his age, and he wore braces and glasses. Add to the mix a healthy dose of natural shyness and he made a perfect target for bullies.
Josh knew Carrie loved their son, but she was too wrapped up in things that didn’t matter to realize she was losing her only child. But Josh was the last person Carrie would accept parental advice from. The divorce was too fresh; the hurt and disillusionment too overwhelming—he wouldn’t even try. Either she’d wise up, or not. All he could do was to be there for Christopher.
Awash with regret for choices he had made when he was young, he knew in his heart that somehow fate had made him and Tasha take separate paths for a reason. But right now, he couldn’t help wondering how things might’ve been different if they’d been able to make a long-distance relationship work.
Stanford hadn’t seemed that far away. He’d been so proud of Tasha for getting into the prestigious school. Although the distance eventually tore them apart, he never stopped being proud of his smart girl—even if she wasn’t his anymore.
Ah, hell. He scrubbed his hands across his face in annoyance at the wistful direction of his thoughts. There was no use in looking backward all the time, and he made a point to avoid it even though Carrie always accused him of holding a torch for Tasha. It wasn’t true and no amount of reassuring ever seemed to convince her. He’d given everything to his marriage. But his best wasn’t enough. A failed marriage was a helluva wake-up call.
He’d come home to Emmett’s Mill to get his head on straight, and that’s exactly what he was going to do. When his older brother, Dean,