Rusty closed the door as quietly as he could behind him. The house was both silent and dark. He went upstairs, finding the living room empty. Light snores sounded down the hall.
He sighed in relief. Not only was he in no mood for conversation, but he was glad Chris and the kids were sleeping. The party had gone well past midnight, and he was exhausted. Between dealing with Mandy’s passing, taking care of the kids, and jet lag, he’d reached his limits. It was his turn for some sleep, too.
It was too late to even try to process Travis’s reaction to him being Mandy’s brother. Laura had been excited to hear about it—she’d thought for sure that was proof of his guilt. Rusty wasn’t so easily convinced.
Maybe he didn’t know about fathering Brady. He was eleven, which meant that Travis and Mandy had been together twelve years earlier. And Mandy’s diary indicated that he hadn’t even talked with her since then.
They may have had a quick fling, and if Mandy wanted to work things out with Chris, she wouldn’t have even told Travis about the pregnancy. If she had, he probably would have been supporting her financially since day one, but it didn’t sound like it.
Rusty grabbed his toothbrush and went into the bathroom. He tried to process everything as he brushed, but his eyelids were too heavy and his thoughts too jumbled. If only he was awake enough to read a few more journal entries.
He made his way back to the guest room and fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. His dreams were full of champagne splattering against his face and reading diary entries.
When he woke up, bright summer light shone on his face through the blinds. Sounds of video games came from the living room and he could smell a mixture of bacon and coffee. Burnt coffee—like it had been spilled on a burner and caked on.
He rubbed his eyes and stretched. It was the best sleep he’d had since hearing about Mandy. His cell phone showed it was after nine.
Rusty’s stomach growled. He hadn’t eaten since before the party, but he really wanted to read some more from the diary. Once he got up, he would be busy with the kids and Chris—someone else Rusty wanted to speak with.
His stomach rumbled again, but he decided to ignore it. He got up, grabbed the journal, and flipped to where he’d left off. Again, most of it was normal stuff. If he hadn’t known anything about Travis, he would have given up long before, but the little snippet he’d found before gave him hope that there was more like that in there.
A pang of guilt stung him for reading Mandy’s diary. But this wasn’t like when they were kids. This was for her.
He skimmed, looking for mentions of either Travis or Chris. Mostly, it was the kids and their activities. If the journal was any indication, Mandy had been a good mom. It sounded like she’d kicked her demons.
Rusty’s stomach twisted with guilt. He closed the journal and sighed, facing the ugly truth. He’d been a coward. Scared that he would be rejected on top of all the other heartache in his life. But spending time in this house—with her kids and even Mandy, through the journal and photos—it was obvious that she’d cleaned up and they would have probably gotten along. Perhaps even as well as they once had, before drugs.
Why hadn’t she reached out? Told their parents she had changed? Or had she, and they just dug their heels into the ground, refusing to forgive? Their dad was one to keep his word no matter what it cost him. He’d told her if she didn’t clean her life up, he would never talk to her again.
Rusty’s guilt turned to anger. As a parent, he couldn’t understand how his father could act like that. Granted, Rusty would give just about anything to see his boys again, but even so, he couldn’t imagine cutting them out of his life on purpose even if they had grown up and screwed up. He couldn't even picture doing that to his niece and nephew.
He thought of Brady and Kaylie. It was the kids who were important, and they needed a strong support system. Chris was too stressed to provide that for them. They needed not only Rusty, but their grandparents, too.
Rusty picked up his phone and found his parents’ number. He was ready to give his dad an earful—he had no idea what he was missing out on. Or what he was making his grandkids miss. Kids needed a relationship with their grandparents. Rusty couldn’t imagine his childhood without his.
A headache was forming near his eyes. Sure, yelling at his dad would feel good. It would alleviate some of his anger, but it wouldn’t accomplish anything. Nothing could break through his dad’s stubbornness. Not even Mandy’s death. Why would telling him how great his grandchildren were?
Or would it? Rusty traced the shape of his phone. His pulse picked up speed. He really needed to do this, both for the kids and his parents. Mostly, the kids. They were both missing out, and all because of his dad’s foolish pride.
Rusty pushed aside his own feelings for Brady’s and Kaylie’s sake. He made the call and waited as it rang. He took a deep breath, preparing himself for the confrontation.
“Two calls in one week?” his dad asked, answering the call.
“I’m here at Mandy’s place. I’ve been spending a lot of time with your grandchildren.”
There was a brief pause. “Have you, now?”
“They’re really great kids. Smart, fun.”
Silence.
“Don’t you want to get to know them?”
“I need to get going. Is there something you need from me?”
“Not me, them. Dad, they need their grandparents. Now more than ever.”
“What are we supposed to do about that?”
“How about be their grandparents?” Rusty snapped. “Come by and comfort them. Maybe bring them a present. Tell them how much you’ve always wanted to meet them.”
“Mandy made her choices.”
“It’s not their fault! And haven’t you learned anything from Mandy’s death? Now you’ll never have a chance to restore that relationship. At least you can reach out to her kids. Our family has been through enough.”
“I’ll talk it over with your mother. Will that make you happy?”
“It’s not about making me happy, Dad. It’s about those kids. They need you.”
“Like I said, I’ll speak with your mother.”
“I suppose that’s all I can ask. Talk to you later.”
The call ended. Rusty shook his head. He needed some food, some coffee, and a strong painkiller. He returned the journal to its place and stuck his phone in his suitcase.
In the kitchen, he found Chris sipping from a mug and reading something on a tablet. Rusty went into the living room and said good morning to the kids and then grabbed a piece of bacon.
“Is it okay if I have some?” he asked.
Chris glanced up. His eyes were bloodshot and the skin around them was puffy. “Sure. I made plenty. You bought enough for an army.”
“Can’t have too much bacon.” Rusty piled some on a plate and put some bread in the toaster. “What are you reading?”
“Just the news.” Chris frowned. “Somehow, word got out about me being down at the station, and now they’re speculating why. Whatever happened to innocent until proven guilty? Can’t they just leave me alone to grieve? I haven’t even had any time to do that.” His eyes shone.
There was a time Rusty had been uncomfortable with tears, especially from another man, but after all his years towing people home, he’d become a counselor so to speak. He knew people usually just needed a listening ear, and sometimes a shoulder to lean on.
He buttered his toast and prepared his coffee before sitting down. “Do you want me to take the kids out again today? Give you some time?”
Chris sighed and rubbed his temples. “I don’t know what I want anymore. Well, except to have Mandy back. Things weren’t perfect, but they weren’t horrible, either. You know how marriage is, right?”
Rusty nodded. “I was married.”
“Didn’t work out?”
“I lost my wife, also.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. Did you already tell me? My memory is shot these days.” His face clouded over. “What happened?”
“A drunk took out my entire family.”
Chris stared at him for a moment. He swore. “I had no idea.”
Rusty sipped some coffee. “It was a long time ago.” And thinking about it now, with Mandy’s passing, the wounds felt more raw than healed. He cleared his throat. “What does the paper say?”
“It’s always the husband. How many times have you heard that one?”
“Too many.” Rusty considered his words. He wanted to seem sympathetic, but at the same time, he needed to find out what he could. “It’s pretty convenient.”
“Exactly.” Chris put his face in his palms. “Sure, our marriage isn’t—wasn’t—perfect. Whose is? Doesn’t mean I killed her. I loved her. Just ask the kids.”
Rusty’s throat tightened. “You don’t think the police are going to question them, do you?”
Chris looked up. “They’d better not, but I guess they’re next if the cops don’t believe me.”
“Why do you think they won’t leave you alone?”
“She had some drug in her system. I’d never even heard of it—how could I have slipped it to her, you know? More importantly, why? The most important thing to me is my family.”
Rusty finished off his toast. “Do you think she’d gotten back into heroin? Or drinking again?”
Chris pulled on his hair. “I didn’t see any signs. You’d think I would have, right? I was the one who helped her clean up. The only person who believed in her.”
Ouch. That was a personal jab. Rusty pretended not to notice. “How did it get into her system, then? I mean, how do you think?”
“That’s what the police have been asking me. How the hell would I know?” Chris slammed his fist on the table.
Rusty sat taller. “Not making accusations. I just want to find out what happened—like you do. What was going on in her life right before she died?”
Chris grumbled. “You think the cops haven’t been asking me that? Over and over.”
“What was she doing the day before? Was she acting depressed? Did she—?”
“I didn’t do anything! It could have been one of those PTA moms for all I know.”
“You think one of them slipped her something?”
“Or sold it to her. She was always complaining they didn’t like her because she didn’t have enough nice stuff. Used car. Generic purse. Drugstore makeup. How the eff would those women know that, anyway? I think they just had it out for her. I told Mandy to find better friends, but she preferred ones who had more money. Like that ho next door.”
“Laura?”
Chris groaned. “Worst of the bunch. Lives in that big house by herself, has a maid and everything. Added onto it a couple years ago. It’s fifty percent bigger than any other house in the neighborhood. She’s just a showoff.”
Rusty nodded. His brother-in-law’s hatred toward Laura made sense. She made him feel emasculated. And if Mandy had been as good friends with her as it seemed, that would have likely only added salt to the wound.
“What was Mandy like as a kid?” Chris asked.
The question surprised Rusty. He thought back to their childhood. “She cared about her family and friends, and she always had an eye for the finer things in life. Mandy was a lot of fun back then.”
Chris picked up his mug and sipped. “She didn’t talk about her childhood much. Maybe once in a while when the kids did something to remind her. I never saw any pictures or anything.”
“Makes sense. Mom and Dad have hung onto all of that.”
“Even though they cut her off?” Chris scowled.
“Those are the days they like to remember. We had a lot of fun back then.”
“There had to be problems, especially with parents who are willing to kick a child out of their lives. I can’t imagine anything bad enough to make me do that to mine.”
Even if one of them weren’t his? Rusty kept quiet about that. “She was pretty messed up by the drugs. They—”
“I know. I was the one who helped her out of it.”
“They thought it would be a shock of reality that could help her turn her life around,” Rusty continued. “I disagree with a lot of things my parents do, but that was one time I didn’t. She was really destructive, and it ruined relationships. Mandy got really cruel.”
Chris laughed bitterly. “Believe me. I know that, too. I was there when she was getting clean. It wasn’t easy. But when you love someone, you don’t give up on them.” He stared Rusty in the eyes.
“Not everyone is equipped to deal with that, either. I had my own rehab to deal with after I lost my family. When Mandy was on drugs, I had no way of understanding what it was like. It wasn’t until I turned to alcohol myself.”
“What was your excuse after?” Chris leaned over the table. “For not reaching out to her?”
“I had my own demons to work through, but I’m here now. And a relationship is a two-way street. She cleaned up years ago, but I never once heard from her.”
“Why do you think that was?” Chris narrowed his eyes.
“Couldn’t say. I never got the chance to know her in recent years.”
“Maybe you should have tried.”
Rusty took a deep breath. “Obviously, but I can’t go back in time and change anything now.”
“Nope, and you’ll have to live with that, won’t you?” Chris stared Rusty down.
Rusty stared at him for a moment before rising from the chair. “I’m here to help. If you need anything, let me know.”
He put his dishes away, went into the guest room to gather his clothes, and took a shower. It was challenging not to let Chris get to him. Rusty reminded himself how painful it was to lose a wife. He was sure he hadn’t been himself during the process. That had been when he’d turned to alcohol and pot himself.
When he returned to the guest room, he locked the door and checked under the mattress for the journal. It wasn’t there. Blood drained from his head and the room seemed to shrink. He’d put it back there. Hadn’t he?
Rusty rifled through his luggage, not finding it. He dumped it out and went through each item, one by one. It was just the stuff he’d packed. He folded it all and returned everything, his mind spinning.
Had Chris taken it? Did he have cameras all over the house? The only room Rusty had felt like someone might have been watching him had been the master bedroom. That might have been enough to cause Chris to go through the room. He would have seen Rusty going through the stuff and leaving with the journal.
He pulled out his wallet and checked for the key he’d found. It was still there. Maybe it was time to look into that. He and Chris both needed some breathing room. Or maybe the house just wasn’t big enough for the two men.