Chapter 32

 

Half an hour later, Carol hung up from the insurance company. She carried a steaming cup of peppermint tea and the unopened mail into the living room. What would the appraisal show? An old car like hers... if they wrote it off, they wouldn’t give her enough to replace it.

A sip of tea did nothing to settle her nerves. Carol turned the radio on and plopped onto the couch to distract herself with the mail. Advertisements, a bill, and a small, hand-lettered envelope that held a black-edged, typed card.

Dear Mrs. Daniels, as my son’s wedding will not take place, I have cancelled the travel reservations he made. Regretfully, Honore Renaud.

Not take place? Gilles sounded like such a sweetheart. Maybe he had a dark side and Amy found out in time. Or maybe his mother had squelched the relationship. She sounded like the forceful type, from this letter. Carol frowned. More probably, Isobel’s damaging influence made Amy the cause.

“Maybe you’re better off, Amy. I hope it works out. For both of you.” Carol snorted. She wondered about her cousin, yet here she was talking to the air.

Carol stuck the card back into the envelope and tossed it onto the coffee table. She picked up her cup and filled her lungs with peppermint scent. The radio was playing Gordon Lightfoot’s “Early Morning Rain.” A lonely song, but his voice always loosened Carol’s tension.

Chance lay on the floor, as close to her as he could get. Carol rested one foot against the steady rise and fall of his ribs. She heard the back door open, and the dog broke off in mid-snore.

Paul bolted in from the kitchen. “Mom, are you all right? What happened to the car?”

“Some kids in a stolen SUV ran a red light. It could have been a lot worse.” Don’t think about could-have-been, focus on the fact that you’re okay.

Her son fended off Chance’s welcome-home licks and dropped down on the couch to give her a one-armed hug. “You should have called.”

“I’m okay.”

“You don’t look it. Maybe you need to get to bed early.”

Carol mustered a grin. “Yes, son.” She ruffled Chance’s fur with her foot. “That’s the plan. I just wanted to see you first. How was your day?”

“Better than yours, I guess. Practice was good, everyone was pumped after playing on the weekend.” Paul yawned. “I finished most of my homework after school, so I won’t be up late.”

Carol stretched and stood. “Good night. I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep, but Joey’s show starts soon and it’ll take my mind off things.” She turned off the radio and carried her empty mug to the kitchen.

Paul followed her and picked up his backpack from beside the door. “Joey’s a decent guy. He’s been great with Amber. He came to check out Saturday’s gig, too.”

A pang stabbed Carol’s heart. “He did?”

“Too bad he didn’t stay till the end. Things might have ended better for Amber. I’m glad I can talk about the band now. I hated sneaking around, but I figured you’d go ballistic.” Paul grinned at her. “You took it pretty well. I’m proud.” He slung the backpack over one shoulder and walked out.

Carol stared after him. She’d told Joey a bit about Skip, and how hard she worked to keep Paul off that path. So he found out about this band and instead of telling her, he aided the deception?

She locked the doors and changed into pajamas, then returned to the kitchen and turned the radio on low. Joey was chatting about a busy weekend, how good it felt to come back to work and rest up.

When the next song started, Carol picked up the phone. Busy. While she waited to get through, she rehearsed what she wanted to say.

“Welcome to All-Request Oldies, what would you like to hear tonight?” Joey’s voice stirred memories of his hand holding hers as they walked yesterday. Of his comfort Saturday night when Carol thought she’d break.

“How could you know Paul was in a band and not tell me?” Tears vibrated in her voice, and that made her angrier. She didn’t want to be vulnerable.

“Carol! Hey, I’m glad he told you about the band. He asked me to respect his privacy, but you needed to know.”

“You should have told me Saturday night that you’d seen him. What if he had been abducted?”

“You said the detective was calling Paul’s friends. They’d have told him. Paul said this was a venue for the under-age crowd. Since he wouldn’t tell you, I went along to make sure the manager actually enforced the alcohol- and drug-free rules. I wish I’d stayed the whole night, but everything seemed fine. Paul said he’d be home by midnight. By the time you phoned me, they could have been anywhere, and the last thing you needed was something else to worry about. Hang on, commercial’s ending.”

Joey introduced the next line-up of songs on air, then came back to the phone. “They’re still working out the kinks, but they’ve got a good sound. You should hear them, Carol. Your son is really something. And he’s a deep thinker for a teen. I don’t believe you need to worry about him turning out like his father.”

“You don’t see a problem, so my parenting rules go out the window?”

Joey sighed. “Someday we’ll have a normal conversation. ‘Hi Joey, could you play me a song?’ and ‘Sure thing, Carol. Would you like to catch a show on the weekend?’”

Carol’s fingers tightened on the phone. “Here’s a request — instead of taking it upon yourself to decide what’s best for my son and me, how about playing ‘My Life’? From me to you.”

She hung up before Joey could hear her cry.

Her control didn’t break until she reached her bedroom. Curled in bed in the dark, Carol clutched a pillow to her aching chest. Tears poured from the deepest reservoir of her heart.

The radio played on. She’d turn it off once she found out if Joey actually played her request. Carol held the pillow tighter against the hollow ache in her chest.

The song ended, and she waited through ads for pizza and real estate services until Joey came back on the air. His voice made the tears flow hotter. “We’ll open this next set with two in a row from the same artist. The first is a request, and the second one’s for Carol in Toronto. It’s one of the few Billy Joel songs you’ve never asked for. I thought it might be time.”

She glared at the radio. What had Joey picked as a parting shot?

Her mind echoed every defiant word as “My Life” played, and she whispered the closing plea to be left alone, despite the pain in her heart. Then a light, rapid beat caught Carol by surprise. Joey was right. She’d never asked for this one, perhaps because she didn’t think the subject existed. “An Innocent Man.”

Carol’s jaw tightened. Joey was defending himself, trying to justify what he did. But she knew that wasn’t the song’s message. The lyrics offered unselfish motives and support, and as she listened she longed for the fairy tale to be true.

By that definition there weren’t any innocent men — or women. Even Amy’s Prince Charming didn’t last. It’s what Carol thought she’d seen in Joey. Since their first conversation, he’d seemed friendly, truly concerned. Like he was on her side.

Maybe Joey treated everyone that way and she’d read too much into it. That hurt even more, because he acted like he genuinely cared. Even in Carol’s pain and anger over the secret of his drug use, she’d counted on him caring.

She remembered how Joey held her Saturday night, and his anger, telling Paul to come home. His anguish on their picnic when he tried to tell her about his past. Carol’s heart whispered that she mattered to him.

Carol turned the radio off and rolled onto her back. A sliver of streetlight angled across the wall from where she hadn’t fully overlapped the curtains.

It made no difference how Joey felt about her. No matter how pure his motives, Carol couldn’t trust him to stay within the framework she’d erected for her and Paul’s lives.

Not that Paul respected the boundary either. Carol couldn’t lay her son’s defection at Joey’s feet. Tears leaked from the outside corners of her eyes and down both sides of her head to her pillow. One trickled into her ear. She dried it with her sleeve and curled onto her side.

The silence oppressed, but music wouldn’t help now, nor chocolate. Paul’s eyes flashed in her mind, pleading for understanding. He needed to play. Carol couldn’t fight a longing that strong without crippling her son. Or losing him.

Who knew what kind of red tape Garraway had to cut through to reclaim Harry’s money? If the drug lord grew impatient, would Paul lose her?

Dread slithered into bed with her.

Trembling, Carol drew her knees to her chest. She’d always coped with life by controlling it, but everything was spinning out of her grasp.

God, I don’t know what to do. I can’t keep my son safe, or myself. I’m scared to trust You. Help me!

Had she just prayed? Carol curled even tighter into a ball, as if God might have heard and be looking in her direction — and as if she could somehow escape His notice.

Rule number one. Don’t get God’s attention. She knew that. Had made the rule.

Logic said it wasn’t Carol’s prayers that failed Keith. God wasn’t blaming her for her son’s death. Or her mother’s. Or Skip’s, or their unborn baby girl.

Joey had pleaded with Carol to trust God’s heart, said that God had the best plan anyway. Instead of trusting Him, Carol had managed her own life, done it her way without even asking for His input. And God didn’t push, like she did with Paul.

Carol’s throat tightened until each breath was fire. Doing life her way brought them here — to an obstacle course she could never navigate alone. With no brakes.

Tonight’s accident flashed in her mind. The helplessness, the certainty of impact. She’d heard a song on the radio once, “Jesus, Take the Wheel.” Heard it and made some cynical joke.

Could it be that simple?

Carol’s mother had clung to faith, claimed it helped her endure their abusive home. Joey promised God could pick up the pieces if Carol broke. She remembered what he’d said Sunday about trusting God’s heart.

A different type of fear threw Carol’s heart into overdrive. What if she got it wrong — or it wasn’t enough?

Forcing trembling lips to shape the words, she whispered, “God, I’m sorry for trying to run my life. Help me trust You like Joey does, like Mom did. Even if things get worse. I don’t care what You do with me, but please protect Paul and grow him into a good man. An innocent man like in Joey’s song. And bless Joey for being such a good friend. I’m sorry I lost him.”