Natalie wasn’t here.
Dad steered the police cruiser into Jem’s parking lot. Riding shotgun, Jem leaned forward and scanned the lot. No Bug. No bicycle. But her mother’s Volvo was parked in the next-to-last space.
The rat that had gnawed at his intestines all the way home from Raleigh clawed past his diaphragm and sank its teeth into his heart.
He hadn’t been enough for her.
“I’m sorry, son.” Dad spoke in a quiet tone.
Jem bowed his head and clenched his fists together. For the past twenty hours, all he’d been able to pray was, Please, please, please, please, please.
Now it became No, no, no, no, no.
No one to hide his carrots and replace them with Snickers. No partner on the court. No backup with the kids. No best friend.
The car stopped, and Nick and Lili piled out of the back seat.
They’d breakfasted at a small cafe in Raleigh with Lili’s parents. The table had run out of napkins by the end of it, between everyone’s tears. Although there had been apologies all round, Lili had been firm in her decision to stay at Jem’s, at least for now. He’d been relieved. Mike and Steph, though joined in their concern for Lili, oozed resentment toward one another.
And if the coming nights were going to be lonely, it always helped to have another person in the house.
He exited the car on stiff limbs.
Beside Nick’s pickup, the young couple embraced.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Nick said to Lili, then fired up his truck and rumbled down the road.
“Guess I’ll head too,” Dad said, one foot still in the car.
Jem turned. “Would you like to come up for a drink? Of juice?” he added, at his father’s scowl.
Dad’s expression softened. His skin carried a grayish hue from fatigue, eyes bloodshot. “Sure.” He paused at the door. “Why don’t you head up, Lil? I want to talk to your uncle.”
She took the keys from Jem and disappeared inside.
Jem rubbed his temples. Exhaustion weighed down every cell of his being. Couldn’t whatever his dad had to say wait? He needed to get everyone fed and watered, then hit the sack.
“What happened with Natalie?” The question was cautious, not demanding.
Jem paused. They didn’t have a talk-about-relationship-problems kind of dynamic. But what the heck. He didn’t have the energy to object. He sketched their argument out in the briefest of terms.
Dad nodded, face thoughtful. “Do you remember the day you gave up on me?”
Jem blinked. “What?”
“I rode you all the time. But you still always tried to please me, at least to a degree. But there was a day when that stopped.”
Jem shifted on his feet. Yeah, he knew. “The ski trip.”
Dad nodded. “The ski trip.”
One of his top-five least-favorite memories. He’d been sixteen. Dad hadn’t loved the idea of the school ski trip, but after a decent amount of nagging he’d set his terms. Better grades. Impeccable behavior. And Jem had to pay for it himself.
Against all odds, he’d met the criteria. But when the time came for Dad to sign the permission slip, he put it off, lost it, found a dozen excuses.
Jem crossed his arms. “You goaded me into that fight.”
For the first time, Dad admitted, “I did.”
“You thought I’d never be able to do as you asked.”
Dad gave a slow nod.
“And because you still didn’t trust me, you wouldn’t let me go. So you goaded me into getting into a fight about it, then grounded me as punishment.”
“That’s the long and short of it, yes.”
“And you bring this up why?”
Dad stroked the stubble on his cheek, the sound scratchy. “I broke something in you that day. You gave up. You decided that no matter what you did, you were doomed. And it didn’t just affect your relationship with me.” He gave a meaningful look.
“That’s ridicu—” Jem’s voice trailed off. Did it make a terrible kind of sense? He’d ended his engagement with the love of his life. Then broken up with her a second time after only two weeks of dating. Even the ease with which he’d broken up with Chloe probably wasn’t natural.
Dad folded his arms. “You believe you’re destined to fail. But it’s not true. You’re a good son. A good dad. You could be a good husband too.”
Jem stared at his father. He could not have been more surprised had his father stripped naked and performed the chicken dance. Was that what Dad really thought? He couldn’t even make himself believe it. “I’ve got two kids in my house, and yesterday one ran away and the other nearly went unconscious.”
Dad shrugged. “Stuff happens. But you try. That counts.”
He clapped a hand on Jem’s shoulder, apparently at the end of his emotional-honesty tolerance for the day. “Let’s go get this drink.”
They trudged up the stairs together. When Jem reached the door, his hand faltered.
He didn’t want to be in this apartment if Natalie wasn’t going to be with him.
But I’ve got Olly. And Lili. And I know You still love me, Lord.
The strains of “I Believe I Can Fly” greeted him as he opened the door. On the television, Michael Jordan walked down the gangplank of a spaceship. Space Jam. One of Natalie’s childhood favorites—and he’d caught her playing it “for Olly” more than once.
“Karen?”
“Jem?”
He stopped breathing.
Natalie looked up from her spot in the living room, eyes wet and Lili still wrapped in her hug.
A hand squeezed Jem’s shoulder. He turned.
Dad grinned and backed toward the stairs, giving a two-fingered salute as he went.
Jem looked back at the girls. Hope fluttered its wings, but he anchored it to the ground. She might have only stayed from concern for Lili.
Natalie and Lili separated long enough to perch on stools at the kitchen counter, and Lili spilled the story of her midnight breaking-and-entering, then Jem’s rescue. Natalie listened with wide eyes.
Jem stayed frozen in the dining nook.
Then Lili yawned wide enough to swallow a cat and said, “I want to go to bed.”
Natalie gave her another hug, and his niece disappeared into her room. Her door clicked shut.
Jem turned to Natalie, standing by the end of the counter. Her hair shone in its customary ponytail, and she turned jeans and a faded hoodie into a delicious ensemble. He took a step closer, then another.
She didn’t meet his eyes.
Hope sparked, then fizzled.
“Jem—”
“Nat—” They spoke at the same time.
“I need to apologize,” he jumped in. “I’m sorry what I said. I was freaked out over Olly.”
A small smile softened Natalie’s expression. He held his breath. Was that a good sign?
“You’re forgiven. I’ve done some soul searching myself.” She twisted the cords of her hood between her fingers. “You were right. This job isn’t about God, it’s about me. And if I really want to go for it, then I have options. But I think I need to pray about the path ahead.”
And did that include him?
Natalie took a deep breath, and he braced himself.
“In light of that, I want to talk about us.”
No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no.
But he forced a strangled “Okay” past his lips.
She smiled. “I love you.”
He rested his hands on her waist, unable to speak. She loved him. All the mistakes, all of the drama, all of the heartache. All his screwups. And she still loved him.
Dad’s words returned to him. You try. It counts.
This time he’d not only try, but he’d believe they could make it. This family, for all of its dysfunction, would be a group of people who stuck by each other.
Thirty-six hours of stress and no sleep had left his brain full of cotton balls. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
She tipped her head to one side. “Speechless? Finally?”
He drew a finger along her jaw and tipped her chin up. “Not quite.”
He dipped his head, and her eyes fluttered shut. He kissed her, long, sweet, and slow, and the “Hallelujah Chorus” roared.