thirty-seven

I thought it was the best pageant we’ve had in years.” Turned out Virgil wasn’t much good at giving pep talks. “Sure held folks’ attention, and it’s not like it was the first time someone threw up.” He grinned. “Remember back in twenty-two? I think there was a stomach bug going around that year, and once the first one succumbed”—he chuckled—“it was a chain reaction.”

The sheriff had taken it upon himself to “escort” the family home, and now he and Creed were sitting on the porch. Delphy had taken Loyal upstairs. The boy had clearly been humiliated, and from the look on his face, Creed guessed he’d been working hard to hold back tears. “I should go talk to him.”

Virgil leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. “Which speech did you have in mind?”

“Which what?” Creed was confused.

“Which speech. Will it be the ‘get back on the horse’ speech, or the ‘it wasn’t as bad as you think and you’ll be gone soon anyway’ speech?”

“I . . . well, I hadn’t quite thought what I’d say.”

“What I suspected.” Virgil stood and stretched. “Pretty night. Look at all those stars. Kind of night that gives a man room to think.” He slapped Creed on the shoulder and sauntered off into the darkness.

Creed watched his friend go. Though Virgil wasn’t one to meddle in family business, Creed thought he understood what he was saying. This was no time to go off half-cocked and make his son feel worse than he already did. So, what should he say?

Delphy slipped out onto the porch and stood next to Creed, leaning into him with her hip. He reached out, circled her waist, and urged her onto his lap. “Don’t you try and start anything,” she said, her breath light against his ear.

“How is he?”

She sighed and rested against him. “Upset. He wanted to prove that he could hold his own with the other kids. That he can do what they can do. That . . .” She trailed off.

“That he’d do just fine going to school right here in Beverly,” Creed finished for her. She nodded, her hair tickling his chin. He reached up to smooth the stray wisps back into place. “Do you think he would? Do fine here, I mean?”

“I do. Although now I’m not sure he thinks so.”

“I’ve been thinking about what I should say to him.”

She raised up and looked at him, her eyes dark in the night. “I’m glad. Sometimes—” she hesitated, then picked up again—“I think sometimes you settle for what’s good instead of taking the time to consider what’s best.”

“Is that how the ladies are talking to their husbands these days?” His tone was teasing, mostly because he didn’t want her to know how deeply he felt her words.

“The ones who make the same mistakes as their husbands talk like that.”

He caught the hiccup in her voice and drew her closer, pleased when she molded herself to him. “What do you think is best?”

She settled her head against his shoulder. “I think we shouldn’t limit Loyal. For too many years I’ve tried to protect him, to insulate him from a world I thought would be dangerous for him.” She sighed. “But he’s found a fair amount of trouble all the same.” She shivered, and Creed rubbed her arm, holding her closer. “I think he should spend time with all sorts of people—ones who can hear, and ones who can’t. Kids his own age and adults he can look up to. People from town and out on the farms. People who come from different places—like Otto.”

“Maybe even girlfriends,” Creed teased.

She laughed and it echoed in his chest. “Yes, so long as they’re as sweet and kind as Rebecca Westfall.”

Creed found her lips and kissed her long and slow, all the tenderness he’d been denying for too many years singing between them. When they were both breathless, he pulled away. “I’d better go talk to him before I forget how to talk,” he said.

She laughed, low and husky. “Good idea. And then maybe we can stop talking some more.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Loyal buried his face in his pillow. Now he could neither see nor hear. If only he could stop feeling. He’d been an idiot to think he could pull off something like playing a lead role in the town pageant. He’d been so nervous, and the greasy sausage roll he’d eaten earlier had been a bad choice. When he lost sight of Michael for a minute and didn’t know if he was supposed to be signing or not, he’d panicked. And the panic had churned in his belly with the food and . . . humiliating. What could be more humiliating than throwing up in front of the whole town? Oh yeah. Fainting in front of the whole town. He groaned, not caring if it made a sound or not. No one was here to listen anyway.

The light switched on, and he felt the mattress shift. He angled his head to peer out. He thought it would be Mother trying to console him, but Father sat at the foot of his bed, watching him. He sat up cross-legged and hugged his pillow to his chest. Was he in trouble? He probably should be.

“I’ve been thinking.” Father made the sign for thinking. “You’re going to be fourteen soon. Grown and a man before we know it.” This was not what Loyal had been expecting. Was Father going to send him into the world on his own? He sure as shooting wasn’t ready for that. “It’s time you started making some of your own decisions.” Loyal squeezed the pillow harder. “I’m leaving it up to you to decide whether you want to go back to the school for the deaf or go to school here in Beverly. The choice is yours, son.”

Loyal just stared, not sure he’d read his father’s lips right. He wet his own lips and found the words, “I decide?”

Father looked delighted. “Yes, you decide.”

Loyal stared at the quilt on his bed. Mother had made it using lots of blue fabric, his favorite color. He had another one a lot like it at school. He’d stared at that one a hundred times, thinking about how much he wished he could stay home and go to school—be part of a real family. But now . . . he wasn’t so sure. Here, everyone would know him as the deaf boy who threw up at the Civil War pageant. Back at the deaf school, no one would know about his embarrassing performance.

He pointed his index finger at his forehead and made little circles with a thoughtful look on his face. “You want to think about it?” Father asked. Loyal nodded. “That’s wise. I knew you were smart.” Father leaned forward and gave him a quick kiss on the forehead. It was something he hadn’t done in years, and tears sprang to Loyal’s eyes. Thankfully Father turned and left before he could see them.

By breakfast time, Loyal had made up his mind. He was going back to the school for the deaf. He was pretty sure it was what his parents wanted, and he wasn’t ready to face the kids he’d embarrassed himself in front of. Although he thought Rebecca would still be his friend, he wasn’t sure he wanted to see her either. Which made it that much worse when she waltzed into the kitchen while he was still eating. He’d gotten up late, and Father was cleaning out the shed in the backyard for some reason. Mother was hanging out laundry. Loyal stirred his oatmeal trying to make it look like he’d eaten some.

Rebecca skipped into the room, stopped, and frowned at him. “What’s the matter with you?” He formed an O at his chin and flung his hand outward. “Well, you look like something’s wrong. Is it because of yesterday?” Loyal shrugged and dug his spoon deeper into the bowl.

Rebecca slid into the chair nearest him and picked up the piece of toast he’d been ignoring. She began nibbling on it. “Some of the kids want to learn sign language. They thought yesterday was a pip.” Loyal ate a bite of oatmeal for something to do.

Mother came inside and must have spoken to Rebecca. “No thank you, Mrs. Raines. I had breakfast.” Then Father came in and ruffled Loyal’s hair. He reached up and smoothed it back into place. Why couldn’t everyone just leave him alone?

Mother sat across from him and lifted her hands with a smile to sign Have you decided? Loyal scowled. He didn’t want to talk about this right now. He signed an emphatic no. Her face fell. Don’t you want to go to school here? She was speaking as she signed, and Rebecca perked up.

“Are you coming to school with me?” She practically bounced in her chair.

They all watched him, eager, expectant. Even Father looked like he was trying not to smile. Loyal flung his spoon down, stood, and put everything he had behind speaking a single word. “No!” It must have been loud. They all froze and stared at him. He fled the room, banging out the front door.

Rebecca wanted to follow Loyal, but Creed persuaded her to go on home, assuring her that he would get to the root of what was troubling his son. But now, as he divided the lilies Delphy had planted in the front yard, he was mostly trying to tell himself he wasn’t doing this just so he could keep an eye out for Loyal’s return. He felt like he was messing this up no matter what he did. Had he been this changeable when he was a boy?

Delphy came out and sat on the front steps, watching him. “Thank you,” she said.

“For what?”

“For doing my garden work for me.”

“Oh. Sure. I imagine there are plenty of things you’d like me to do around here.” He stomped on the top of the shovel, thrusting it deeper beneath a clump of roots.

“I could take offense at that, but I’m not going to.” Creed stopped and looked at Delphy with a frown.

“Come. Sit.” She patted the step next to her. He let his shoulders slump, leaned the shovel against the porch, and slouched down beside her.

“I’ve had to do some soul-searching,” she began. Creed tried to jump in, but she held up her hand and even he knew what that sign meant. “I’ve been afraid for Loyal. Afraid he’d get hurt. Afraid he wouldn’t fit in. Afraid people would be cruel because he’s deaf.” She sighed and laid a hand on his knee. “Afraid no one—not even his father—could be trusted to take care of him. And so I’ve been holding him back. Rebecca and Michael are the first real friends he’s made away from his school and that’s just wrong.” She waved her hand toward the small cluster of buildings that made up their town. “This is his home, and I’ve been keeping him from it.” She laughed. “I guess he finally got old enough—strong enough—to break free.”

Creed took the words in, not rushing to respond. Loyal, old enough to make his own decisions. Even the bad ones. “He sure broke free in a big way. Can’t say as I think all his decisions this summer have been good ones.” He felt righteousness rise up in his chest. “Like this morning. Yelling at us and then heading for the hills isn’t exactly mature behavior.”

She tightened her grip where her hand rested on his thigh. “Well now, I’d have to agree with you there.”

“I . . .” Creed choked on his own words. He hung his head. “Walked right into that one, didn’t I?”

“Like father, like son?” Her voice was soft, musical even. He wished Loyal could hear it.

“He’s better than me in a lot of ways.”

She patted his leg and leaned into him. “You’re a good man, Creed Raines. Hardheaded and stubborn, but those can work to your advantage sometimes.” She rested her head on his shoulder. “I think Loyal wants to please you more than anything. He wants to be like you, to do what you do, and believe what you believe. Maybe the problem is that you’re still figuring out what that is.” She stood and he instantly missed her touch. She looked down at him. “I think I forgot why I fell in love with you in the first place.” His heart clenched, then eased when he saw a smile dancing around her lips. “But it’s coming back to me.”

The screen door slapped behind her as she went inside. Creed quelled the urge to follow her. He had something more pressing he needed to do.