17

Tyler

Saturday, December 17

On Saturday afternoon, Tyler drove up and down the streets of Herndon looking for Brandon. Snow banks lined the roads, and salt crews were still out trying to keep the roads from refreezing. He tried to take deep breaths and maintain some patience as he slowed to a crawl behind one of them.

From the passenger seat, his cell phone rang. He glanced down at it. Abbie Jackson’s name appeared on the screen.

“Hello?”

“We’ve got a lead on Brandon.”

Tyler’s heart leapt. “Where?”

“Winchester.”

“Winchester? That’s fifty miles away. What’s he doing there?”

“We got a call from police in Winchester who thought they might have him in their custody,” Abbie explained. “Some woman in Winchester called the police after she chased a kid off of her back porch. Anyway, the Winchester police got him as he was running through backyards in the neighborhood.”

“I can’t believe it,” Tyler breathed. He had been so sure Brandon was still in Herndon, staying at some friend’s house he didn’t know about. Tyler had driven up and down every road he could think of every day. And he’d spent a lot of hours driving through rough neighborhoods where gang members were known to live. “Are they sure it’s Brandon?”

“He gave them another name,” Abbie said. “But one of the cops recognized his face from the news and the missing poster sent out to all Virginia police. They’re pretty sure it’s him. I’m on my way there now.”

Tyler hung up and called Josh.

Daylight was almost completely extinguished when they backed out of Josh’s driveway. As they drove down Route 28 toward Interstate 66, the sunset off to their right was at its end—only a small ball of fire burned in the distance as it sank below the line of businesses and strip malls.

“I’m glad you called me,” Josh said.

“Thanks for driving me out there. I…I didn’t want to call Christina until I’m out there and know for sure it’s him.”

They drove in silence for a few moments.

“You know,” Josh said. “I always pegged you for one of those guys who never shows a crack. You know…you always have your brave face on and look like you’ve got it all together. I figured it was either that, or you really did have it all together.”

Tyler exhaled a short, terse laugh. If Josh only knew… “Josh, I don’t have anything together. I think I can readily admit that my life is a mess.”

“Well, you need help, and you’re willing to admit it,” Josh said. “That’s a move in the right direction.”

They turned onto Interstate 66 going west toward Winchester and were immediately forced into the far left lane to crawl behind a line of other cars as rubber-neckers all gawped at an accident on the shoulder.

“There’s still a lot of ice out here,” Josh remarked. The grass was still piled high with the white walls of snow, now turning black with road debris.

“It’ll take months to melt,” Tyler said. “I can’t believe Brandon’s been out in this for a week.”

“And Winchester?” Josh scratched his head. “How did he get to Winchester? Fifty-five miles away.”

“I don’t know. I just can’t believe any of this is happening. All of this craziness started with that sexting thing. And now running away? I just can’t believe he keeps doing these stupid things.”

“Just so you know,” Josh said. “It’s not like this is the only sexting case we’ve ever had—or even the first case we’ve had this year. Unfortunately, we see this all the time. We used to prosecute every case. Now, there are just too many of them. I’m confiscating phones from kids every week because of the sexting epidemic.”

A heavy, rattling sigh escaped Tyler’s throat, and he covered his eyes with his hand. “I guess I should have known Brandon was hooked on pornography.”

“How would you have known?”

“I should have been paying more attention.” And he should have been looking to his own behavior as a compass to that of his son’s. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree…the sins of the father…

“It’s hard, you know? These kids are sneaky. You can be the best parent in the world and still miss this stuff,” Josh said.

Despair settled over Tyler. He suddenly felt much older than his forty years. How had he ended up here? How had he let this happen to his son?

“You OK, man?”

“No. There are so many things going through my mind right now.” Tyler focused on the windshield wipers squawking against the glass, sweeping the delicate, mist-like snowflakes to the sides of the windshield where they turned to slush. There was no reason to keep his secret anymore. “I should have known…because I think I may have a problem with it myself.”

“With what?”

“Pornography.”

“Oh.”

An uncomfortable silence followed. Should he have told him? Would Josh judge him? If anyone seemed like they were straight-laced and had it all together, it was Josh. He probably wouldn’t understand. He might just think Tyler was a sicko.

After a few seconds, Josh spoke. “You know—all of us guys struggle with that. Whether it’s pornography or lust. All of us. Anyone who tells you different is lying—or too old to care.”

Tyler was relieved at his candor. “You look at porn?”

“Well, no. But I used to—when I was in college. I mean, I even went to a few strip clubs, I’m ashamed to say. But look, I don’t have to use pornography to know what it’s like to be tempted, man. All I have to do is open my Internet browser, watch a movie, or even an ad on television. Some days it’s bad enough just walking around the school building. You know how some of those teenage girls dress.”

Tyler was quick to follow up his first confession with his second. “I’ve met a girl at work, too.” He might as well let it all fly tonight.

“Have you done anything with her?”

Tyler shook his head. “I’ve had drinks with her, we’ve played racquetball. Mostly I’ve thought a lot about what it would be like to…you know…be with her.”

Josh paused a minute before he answered. “Hmm … I guess this is how the devil operates. He keeps us in a state of dissatisfaction.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was just thinking about how the devil keeps us all chasing our tails. No matter how much we have, we’ll always want more. Partly it’s our own human nature, but the devil takes advantage of that—shows us what we’re missing out on. ‘Look at all the thrills you’re missing!’” Josh removed one hand from the steering wheel and waved it in the air for emphasis.

“I guess that’s true,” Tyler said absently.

“We hate being told what to do by our parents, so we rebel and do all kinds of stupid stuff we later regret. Then we grow up a little, go off to college so we can party and get all that out of our systems, but then we can’t wait to get out, get our degree and find a great paying job, which, by the way, we’re sure will just fall into our laps. Then, we get the job, it’s not what we hoped, so we get married to the person we’re sure will never disappoint or betray us. When they do disappoint us, we figure there’s something else we’re missing. A big house, maybe? So we buy that. What comes next? Oh, yeah, kids. OK, so now what? And it never, never ends.”

Tyler was quiet for a minute. Out of nowhere, a verse that he was pretty sure was from the Bible shifted into his mind. “’The eyes of man are never satisfied.’ Isn’t that in the Bible somewhere?”

“Yep. Ecclesiastes,” Josh confirmed.

Wow. Where had that come from? It wasn’t as if he’d tried to remember an applicable saying. It was as though God had plopped it into his mind.

Only the sound of wet tires and wiper blades filled the car. “And then your wife tells you she’s disappointed with her life and the kids, and she wants to pack up everything and move across the country to California so she can fulfill her fantasy. Then you find out you’re not enough for her either.”

“I thought you wanted to go, too,” Josh said.

Tyler rested his head against the window pane. “I guess I did. I wanted a change, you know? But now, it just doesn’t seem important anymore.”

“I’m so sorry, bro. Have you talked to Pastor Simmons about this at all?”

“No. I haven’t been to church in ages. I think I’ve moved away from God. And let’s be honest, Lana was never a believer. My parents warned me before we ever got married that this was the way it would be. I went from a mentally ill wife with no faith, to one who faked her belief to get me to marry her. Then all she wanted was kids. So we had the kids. I thought that might change her—that she might have more interest in church after that. Instead, the kids just made her want a different life. Something more glamorous. Her parents were rich, and they traveled all over…our life just isn’t enough for her.”

“I urge you to call Pastor Simmons. You need someone to talk to, man. And Brandon probably needs to get some counseling, too. Once you get him home, you need to sit him down, have a talk with him. Don’t use this as an opportunity to alienate and punish him. Use this as an opportunity to connect and come clean to him. Tell him you understand.”

Tyler’s head swiveled as he looked in Josh’s direction, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “What do I need pastoral counseling for? You seem to have all the answers right here and now.”

Josh chuckled. “No. I assure you. I don’t.”

The exit leading to Winchester was just ahead of them. Josh turned onto the exit ramp, and the snow pelted the windshield harder. As they pulled into the parking lot of the Winchester Police Station, Tyler’s heart was in his throat. What if it wasn’t Brandon? Then he’d have to keep searching, worrying, wondering…

Tyler and Josh climbed out of the car. As they walked across the icy parking lot, their feet made crunching noises. Tyler held his breath as he pulled open the glass door and stepped inside the police station.

Then he exhaled.

Brandon sat on a bench near the front door. An officer in charge sat nearby.

Tyler’s heart soared at the sight of him, covered in bruises, cuts, and lacerations, his expression as sullen as ever. He didn’t look up as Tyler and Josh entered.

Abbie Jackson was there, talking to the officer on duty. She waved as they came in.

Tyler approached his son cautiously. His hand shook as he placed it on Brandon’s head. “Come on, son. I’m here to take you home.”

Brandon’s head didn’t raise, and he didn’t move.

“They’re getting him another hot cocoa,” Abbie called over.

A female officer brought a steaming cup to Brandon. Brandon reached for it with hands riddled with black spots.

Frostbite? They needed to get him to a hospital right away. Tyler walked up to the front desk where an officer on duty sat. “Did he say anything about what happened to him?”

“Nope. Only that he was on that lady’s porch to get out of the weather. But I think he needs some medical attention. He’s got some cuts and bruises, and I’d be surprised if he didn’t have some other injuries, too.”

Abbie moved to stand beside Tyler. “Take him straight to the Winchester Medical Center. We’ll worry about all the details next week.” Her dark eyes were soft, compassionate. She patted his arm. “It’s going to take some time. And you’ll need to keep a close eye on him. He’s at risk for running again.”

Brandon’s brows were furrowed, his mouth pushed out in an angry expression reminiscent of when he was a little boy. Fear was there as well. What was going on in that boy’s head? Would Brandon ever let him in?

The doctor in the emergency room spoke of Brandon’s numerous superficial scratches and bruises, at least two lacerations that required stitches, and frostbite to Brandon’s hands and feet.

“Several of the toes are bad,” the doctor told them. “But I think all of them are salvageable. Everything else should heal pretty quickly.”

But Tyler knew the majority of Brandon’s injuries were internal—those of the heart, soul, and mind. Those would take the longest to heal.

~*~

Sunday, December 18

It was a relatively quiet homecoming other than Christina, who descended on the house early the next morning. They all sat in the living room, Tyler and Lana on one sofa, Christina and Brandon on the other. Katherine stood in the doorway looking on. Brandon remained taciturn throughout the hugging, the questions, the insistence that he immediately go and see one of the many doctors at Christina’s disposal.

“Christina, let’s just get through the weekend before we worry about that,” Tyler said calmly. He was already making his own plans to take Brandon to see someone at the church.

“What were you doing? Why did you run away like that?” Her voice was hoarse as though she’d spent the night screaming or crying or both.

Brandon shrugged.

“And how did you get to Winchester?” She grabbed his cheeks with the vise-like fingers of her right hand and turned his head to examine his bruises.

“I got a ride with a truck driver.”

“What?” Christina shrieked.

It was the first Tyler had heard of it as well.

“What if he’d killed you? Or—or something worse?” Her eyes bulged.

“Christina, I think all of these questions can wait for now.”

She ignored Tyler and spoke directly to Brandon. “Well, it’ll be better when you’re back at home in your own bed.”

Tyler tensed. He didn’t want Brandon in the middle of a fight, but he definitely wanted him staying put. “I think it best, if Brandon stays where he is at the moment. Let him adjust to one house before he flies off to another one.”

A muscle in Christina’s jaw clenched as she glared at Tyler. She rose. Tyler stood to meet her advance. She moved her face close to his, spitting her sharply whispered, vitriolic words in his face. “Haven’t you done enough? You’re the cause of all of this. He needs to be with his mother.”

“He needs to be here. Leave him be,” Tyler said.

Katherine stood nearby, watching with a ghost-like silence. Since Brandon had come home, she’d stared at him as though she didn’t know who he was—not once coming near him.

Christina whirled back to her son. Her eyes flashed with anger as her voice trilled with false exuberance. “Brandon, honey? Would you rather come home or stay here with your father?”

Brandon looked up at her, the expression in his eyes making him look too old. “I’m fine here.”

Tyler’s heart soared with relief. In the morning, he would call the church, schedule a counseling session. Get Brandon on the path to recovery—and maybe himself as well.

Christina turned toward Tyler again, her hands on her hips, jaw set, head nodding with bitter derision.

Tyler bit his tongue, resisting the temptation of telling her to get back on her broomstick and fly away. She was in pain, too.

Christina’s face hardened as she turned to Katherine. “Are you coming, Katherine? Or are you staying here, too?”

Katherine shrugged. “I guess I’ll stay.”

Tyler almost felt sorry for his ex-wife. “I’ll call you tomorrow.” He quickly moved toward the front door and held it open for her.

Her head nodding as though to say, I should have expected as much, and her mouth pressed into a thin line, Christina exited the house, climbed back into her car, and peeled out of the cul-de-sac, nearly colliding with the local news van as it rounded the corner.

~*~

Monday, December 19

Tyler returned to work, grateful for some normalcy. If they lost this contract, maybe he could apply for another position within the company. Sitting at his desk, he unpacked his things—his notepad, his lunch, a clean coffee cup.

“Hey.” The voice was like an unexpected touch that startled him. He glanced up at Tara, standing at the edge of the cubicle as she usually did, kicking the toe of her red, high-heeled pump into the edge of the dividing wall. She looked perfect as always—her shoulder-length, strawberry-blonde hair flipped up at the ends, her bangs resting in a perfectly straight curtain, barely touching the top of the bridge of her nose.

“Hi, Tara,” he said a little brusquely, more irritated with himself that he felt a tingle and surge of adrenaline at her appearance than he was at her openly flirty mannerisms.

Her manicured fingernails, the same red as her dress and shoes, tapped the side of the cubicle, and she cocked her head to the side as she smiled at him. “Missed you last week. I’ve been thinking a lot about you. You know…wondering how your son is doing. I heard you found him in Winchester?”

What was it about twenty-somethings these days that they seemed to have no filter? They didn’t know how to ask a sensitive question. They just blurted it out as if they were inquiring whether a lost fact sheet had been found or if a deliverable had reached the government point-of-contact in the correct format.

“That’s right,” he said.

“Is he OK?” Her tone melted into a whispery puddle of sympathy and concern. “How long was he missing?”

“About a week.”

“Do you know—I mean, did he run away or was he kidnapped or…”

There were far too many intricacies, and Tyler didn’t expect a twenty-five-year-old who’d never had a bad day in her life to understand. He was being a bit harsh, but looking into her gorgeous green eyes right then simply reminded him of his weakness. It wouldn’t take much to push him over the edge, and he was trying really hard. “We think he ran away, but it’s just…there are a lot of outside details to work through.”

“Sounds complicated,” she observed, her eyes resting on his with a devastating amount of responsiveness.

Why couldn’t his wife look at him like that? “It is.”

Slowly, Tara ceased her pole dance with the anchor of the wall and stood with both high-heeled feet on the ground. “You’ll let me know if there’s anything I can do, right?”

Tyler forced a smile. “Right. Sure. Thanks.”

“Well, there’s been a lot going on here.” Her eyes widened as she emphasized the lot.

“I’m sure there has.”

Tara looked over her right shoulder, and tilting her chin upward, she shot off in that direction, as though she’d seen someone with whom she needed to speak. Her form was almost immediately replaced by John Cabrisi’s.

“When you get settled, stop by my office for a sec, would you?”

“Sure.”

John made a thumbs-up sign before heading off in the same direction as Tara.

Weeks had passed since he’d heard anything regarding the contract renewal. This was probably the moment when John would issue him a pink slip and the last date of his employment. Hopefully, there would be a respectable severance package of some sort. Tyler had been with the company for quite a few years—plus, he had employee stockholder options. That should count for something. As he walked toward John’s office, he passed Raj’s cubicle.

“Anyone ever tell you that you look like Buddy Holly?”

“Yes, but I don’t have his money, and I don’t want to die like him.”

Tyler offered Raj a fist bump.

Raj returned it.

“How are you my friend? How is your son?”

“He’s doing OK. He’s at home. Lana’s keeping an eye on him. And I’m doing OK, I think. I’m actually glad to be back at work. Keeps my mind off of things.”

“I get that. I’ve been praying for you and your family.”

“Thanks. Hey, John wants to see me in his office. You think the axe is going to fall today?”

Raj took a deep breath, his eyes searching the rafters overhead as he considered the possibility. “I really don’t know. I haven’t heard anything about anything. No word of whether CEF got the funding or didn’t. It’s been silent.”

“Well, who knows? Maybe no news is good news.”

“Let’s hope. I know you’re off to greener pastures, but I really need to keep my job. Especially with the newest chicken coming along in a few months. Dave’s wife is having another baby too.”

“Wow,” Tyler observed. “Lots of new births on the horizon.”

“You’re next!”

“Ha,” Tyler laughed at the irony. “I think Lana would rather go work in the coal mines than have another kid. She’s already fast-forwarding thirteen years to when Micah and Celia are out of the house, and she’s on a beach in Santa Monica reading her book under an umbrella with a pina colada.”

Tyler tried to picture himself as a man of leisure—supine on those beaches, drinking something smooth and reading a political thriller novel. But every time he tried to envision it, the image was foggy, as if he had something under his contact and the view wouldn’t come into focus. He couldn’t smell the ocean air, the suntan oil, or the coconut.

“Hey, Tyler! It’s good to see you. Glad you’re back. Come on in. Shut the door behind you if you would.”

Tyler couldn’t help but dread the lowering of the axe.

“So,” John began, smacking his hands on the top of the desk, “how’s Brandon doing? Saw you on the news the other night.”

“Yeah. He’s doing OK. He’s home. That’s what matters.”

“I’m sorry you’re going through all this.” A moment of silence passed.

Tyler waited with his hands underneath his twitching legs for the fateful words.

“I really am sorry…and I’m glad he’s home,” John assured. “But in a complete and total switch of subjects, I have some good news for you. At least, I hope you’ll think it’s good news.”

Maybe the contract had been extended?

“You know Roger Pearson?”

“I know of him, yes.” Pearson was a substantial step above Tyler’s rung and had been with the company for over twenty-years.

“He’s retiring.”

“Oh.”

“And Colonel Snowden nominated you to replace him.”

“What?” Tyler exclaimed. “Was our task not renewed?”

“Yes, it was renewed. But, obviously, this is a much better opportunity for you. There’s a lot more money involved. It would be a promotion.”

A tire iron striking him on the head couldn’t have surprised him more. “Yes, I know it is. It’s just…wow.”

John’s bushy eyebrows elevated at Tyler’s reaction. “I know you’ve got a lot coming at you right now.”

“Yeah.” Tyler’s head was spinning. Did he accept it outright? He could always change his mind.

“This is a major opportunity, obviously. You’re not thinking of turning it down or anything, are you?” John asked with a short laugh.

Tyler rubbed his hand over his mouth. “Well, it’s just that Lana and I were toying with the idea of moving to California, but with everything going on…”

“What? When?”

“Well, it depends on a lot of things.”

“Did you get a job out there?”

“No, not—no. Lana has a job offer out there.”

“Oh.” John’s tone changed suddenly, and Tyler detected a note of disappointment. “Well, you have to do what you have to do.”

“It depends on what happens with Brandon, of course. I can’t really go right now.”

This must have sounded convoluted and personal to John, who probably wanted to stick to business and not get involved in the sticky, crusty elements of domestic issues and problematic children. Tyler didn’t dare tell him that his son might also be facing felony charges for pornography distribution.

“Just so you know, I don’t think they want to wait too long.” A note of warning tinged John’s voice. “But maybe you can talk this over with Lana and see what she says. We’re also talking a significant raise. I don’t know what’s in California, but she might find that life can be just as good, if not better, on this coast.”

~*~

Tyler‘s temples pounded and his stomach rolled with acid indigestion at dinner that night. Pressure constricted his head and chest as Lana talked about what this or that realtor said and how they should update the kitchen before listing it. Now that Brandon was home, Lana just assumed the move to California was back on.

“The one realtor I talked with thinks folks might not want the stainless steel anymore. They’re looking at built-ins and butcher-block countertops and clean lines, instead of the flashy coldness of granite and steel.”

Tyler stared at her. “We spent a lot of money for those granite countertops and stainless steel appliances. That’s what you wanted—had to have—couldn’t live without.”

“Trends change.”

“Well, I’m not spending another cent on this house for the latest design trend,” he said, gulping his water. He could feel the anger rising, constricting his ribcage with painful resentment. “Since you came back from California, all you talk about is how unhappy you are with every aspect of our life. You don’t like our house, you don’t like my job, and you don’t like being a stay-at-home wife. Do you even like our kids? ’Cause I’m beginning to wonder.”

“Where is all of this coming from? Why are you attacking me?”

“Because I just don’t know how to make you happy anymore. You have this void inside of you, Lana, and trying to fill it is like trying to fill up an empty well with an eyedropper. I just don’t know if I can give you what you want.”

Her gaze fell as she refolded her napkin. “Everything will be fine once we get to California—”

“Will it?”

“Of course it will.”

“Because I don’t think it will. I think there’ll just be something else you need or want once we get there.” He shoveled a morsel of meatloaf into his mouth and chewed so hard he bit his tongue, which only fueled his anger. “You idolize everything you don’t have.”

“What?” she spat, her eyes squinting into livid slits. “You really think that?”

“Yes I do.”

Lana plonked her elbow onto the table, dropping her forehead into her raised right hand.

“I think you worship status and money and prestige.”

“Well, who doesn’t?”

“I’d like to think I don’t.” He could feel the heat from her glare all the way across the table.

“You know what, Tyler? I think you should take a good, hard look at yourself. You’re not that perfect either. I’ve seen the history on your computer. I know about the sites you surf at night once I’ve gone to bed. I’ve seen the pictures of the naked girls you gawk at…just like your son does.”

Tyler stopped chewing.

“What? Are you going to deny that you look at porn?”

Tyler had hoped Lana hadn’t figured it out. But now, there was little reason to deny it. “No. I’ve looked at porn.”

“So, obviously, I’m not enough for you. Just like Christina wasn’t enough for you…or maybe she was too much for you, I don’t know.” Her words were biting, her tone purposed to wound him.

“I know I’m not perfect,” he said, deflated.

She snorted. Sitting back in her chair, she crossed her arms.

Tyler put down his fork and moved to sit in the chair closest to her, where he tried, unsuccessfully, to make eye contact. “Look, honey. I think maybe we need to slow down here. There’s a lot going on right now. For one, we’ve got this whole debacle with Brandon, and until that’s resolved, I’m just not myself. I’m worn out from thinking about it every minute of every day. And then we have Micah and Celia to think about. I don’t know how you’d feel about this, but I really think we should consider getting some counseling. Maybe from Pastor Simmons or someone else on staff at the church.”

“Ha!” Her mouth turned into a tight, furious frown. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you? You’d love telling them what a beast I am and what a saint you are.”

“I’ve just admitted to you that I need some help as well.”

“What you’re saying is that you don’t want to move to California.”

“Well, there’s something else I haven’t told you,” he tried to speak with a bright, upbeat tone. “I just found out this week, but I’m being offered a promotion to Program Manager. It would mean a salary increase and more responsibility, and…we could live more like you want. This could mean a lot for our future. Whereas, if we pack up and move, who knows what kind of job I could get out there.”

She slammed her hands on the table as tears welled in her eyes. “Why have we been talking and planning for the past few weeks? Why did you even get my hopes up? Why did you tell me to go out to California and chase my dream and see what happens?” Her words trailed off as she burst into loud, frantic sobs, flailing her arms as he pulled her into a forced embrace.

“Lana, honey. Calm down. Shh. Listen to me.”

But she was inconsolable. Her cries were loud keens of sorrow and loss that clawed at his heart. He’d crushed her dream, and there was no use talking anymore. Tonight, he would pray things between them could somehow heal. Even so, fear struck at his heart, radiating the message through his entire body that things between them would never be the same again.