Bring Me Home for Christmas - By Robyn Carr Page 0,31
When I look back on all that, it’s like a fog. I don’t even remember it very well. I’m kind of surprised I didn’t step in front of a bus or something, I was such a total idiot. But I’m sorry, really sorry. And…”
She gave him plenty of time to finish and when he didn’t, she pushed a little. “And…?”
“Thanks for letting me try to explain now. I know it’ll never make much sense, but thanks…”
“But that business about your father?” she asked.
“Yet another misunderstanding, but I don’t think it was a mistake. See, my mom told me Jack Sheridan was my father, not the man we lived with till I was about seven. So I came up here to find him. It turned out my mom wasn’t telling the truth about that. I think she wanted to give me a gift before she died, a man to look up to instead of the one I had, the one who not only never married my mom but never supported me after he left. So I came up here to find Jack.”
“Oh, Denny….”
“You don’t have to feel sorry for me. It worked out. For a little while, we thought we were father and son and we got close. But the thing is, once we realized it wasn’t that way, it didn’t change anything. We’re still just as tight, and that’s what I learned—sometimes you make your family. One of the best days of my life was when I found Jack and the rest of this town. It’s the closest thing to family I’ve ever had. They rely on me. It feels good.” He stroked her forehead. “You should get some sleep.” And then he leaned down and kissed her forehead right before moving to his mattress on the floor.
The room was bathed in darkness, a silent, black womb in which they both kept their thoughts private. Becca had no idea what Denny might be thinking, but she was remembering the boy she’d loved. He was such a beautiful and happy young man, so energetic and positive and supportive. He had joined the Corps the same time as her brother, and for the same reasons—both of them were very physical, very patriotic and there was the little incidental fact that neither of them was sure what to do with the rest of their lives. The Corps toughened them up, educated them in ways they hadn’t expected, and as Denny said, gave them vital attachments.
Rich came home, ready for college, ready for the challenge—he majored in engineering. Rich was such a big goof it was hard to imagine him as adept in mathematics, but he was. He had excelled. Denny still hadn’t been sure what he wanted and before he could consider his options, his mother took a turn for the worse. His only real choice was to take care of her; there was no one else. All this time, Becca was at USC finishing her teaching degree, hoping to do her student teaching at home in San Diego; she talked to him daily and saw him almost every weekend.
Almost.
He was right—she had had many commitments. She was busy, had friends, activities, responsibilities, family. It was just Denny and his mom; he had a job at Home Depot, part-time so he had plenty of free time for his mother. Sue was either having cancer treatments or home on the sofa, weak and ill, waiting for her son to take her to the clinic or warm up some soup for her. And finally there had been hospice.
He must have been so lonely.
So afraid…
Becca was naturally a very nurturing person, one of the reasons she sought teaching as a career and wanted a family of her own, so of course she empathized with her boyfriend. She thought even he would admit she was sensitive, sweetly and lovingly checking on him, making herself available to him…
By long distance. When she wasn’t in class. When she wasn’t studying or at a sorority function. When she was home on some weekends and not busy with her family or friends or surfing with her old team.
But her mother checked on Denny and Sue regularly—at least once a week! And of course, when Sue died, Becca and her entire family were there at the funeral.
He must have felt so alone….
There were silent tears that wet her pillow; she was very careful not to let him hear her cry. He took all the blame for being wrong, for being so screwed