Not what Dalton had expected. “When?”
“Last week. I needed time to cool off too. Even now that he’s dead I don’t regret what I said to him.”
“Can I ask what you said to him?”
“Just that there’d been lots of times over the years he’d pissed me off. That he’d done shitty things, and selfish things, and stupid things. But all them paled in comparison to him abusing his son. I told him he was the worst kind of coward and I was ashamed of him, more so than I’d ever been in my life. That if I’d known what he’d done to you, I’da taken a strap to him myself. Then I’da turned him over to Carson and Cal who’d take their pound of his damn hide too. Our dad, for all his faults, never whipped us. He might’ve been a gruff man with a short fuse and had no time to bear fools, but he’d never done nothin’ like that to any of us. So what the fuck? Where had Casper picked up that abusive behavior?
“Then I warned him he couldn’t blame his actions on booze, because it wasn’t the goddamned bottle that’d been hittin’ you. I said if he thought what he was doin’ to you wasn’t wrong, then he wouldn’t have hidden it from his wife and his sons and everyone else. I asked him how he intended to explain his actions toward a child—his child—when he stood in judgment before God. That he oughta hope God had a more forgiving heart than me because I’d never forgive him.”
Charlie looked at him. “I also said he should’ve spent more time begging for forgiveness from you than sitting in church pretending to be the good Christian man decent folks would shun if they knew what he’d done. If they knew how black and cold his heart and soul really were they wouldn’t welcome him with open arms.”
Holy. Shit.
“I know there are some people who’d rip me to pieces for acting that way toward a man who couldn’t speak to defend himself, but I stand by my actions. I did it because it was time someone took him to task. So I’m hoping you ain’t upset that I was the one who done it.”
“I’m…shocked. But I’d never judge you on doin’ what you felt you needed to, Uncle Charlie.”
“Good. I understand you’d moved on from all that childhood bullshit, Dalton. I knew you’d avoided goin’ to the hospital to see him and maybe I’d chalked it up to you bein’ a selfish kid who needed to grow up. But I finally saw your avoidance for what it really is. Self-preservation. I admire the hell out of you for bein’ the bigger man. For walking away. For not letting him define you.”
Good thing Dalton was holding onto the fence or he might’ve fallen down. “Thank you.”
“I don’t deserve your thanks for doin’ what was right for a change. And even when it was the last time I spoke to my brother, I don’t have any regrets about what I said. I just thought you oughta know.”
“Thanks.”
Charlie clapped him on the back and walked away.
The chill was getting to him. He’d almost reached the house when he saw his brothers, sisters in law and their boys walking down the steps. Carson stood on the porch steps, watching them go.
When he saw Dalton, he motioned him over. “You okay? You’ve been out here a while.”
“Yeah, well wasn’t like I was hiding out here so no one would see me cry.”
“Don’t think anyone’s shedding a tear that he’s gone.” Carson scrubbed his hand over his jaw. “Sweet Jesus. And ain’t that a fine thing for me to say about my brother on the day we planted him in the ground.”
Dalton kept his eyes on his uncle. “Him bein’ dead don’t change who he was when he was alive. And I’m more than ready to put this day behind me.” I’m more than ready to put him behind me.
“Me too. Anything you need?”
His gaze moved to the front door. “Is Rory still inside?”
“I believe so. Want me to get her for you?”
“Nah. But would you tell her I went home and I’ll see her tomorrow?”
Carson frowned. “Son, you sure you don’t wanna come in and tell her yourself?”
“I’m sure. Tell Aunt Caro, Aunt Kimi and Aunt Vi I said thanks for everything.”
“You got it. Night, Dalton. Take care.”
“See ya.”
Dalton didn’t remember much from the drive home. He could barely keep his eyes open. Once inside his house he plugged in his nearly dead cell, stripped and crawled between the sheets.
His mother showed up at his door two hours later.
Dalton wished he would’ve stayed in bed. But then they’d be having a conversation in his bedroom instead of the living room since she’d just barged in.
“By all means, Ma, come in.”
“You left Carson and Carolyn’s without saying goodbye.”
“I don’t think anyone noticed.”
“I noticed.”
“Is that why you’re here? To chew my ass about some post-funeral breach of etiquette? Don’t care.”
His mother waltzed into his kitchen and opened cupboards until she found what she was looking for.
Booze.
She snagged two plastic cups and pointed to the couch. “Sit.
“Why are you—”
“Son, you had to be expecting this.”
And don’t you want to know the truth?
No. He’d already come to terms with this.
Dalton sat in the recliner.
His mother perched on the end of the couch closest to him.
And he noticed her hand shook when she dumped scotch in the cups.
Fuck. Why was she nervous?
Yeah, you’ve really come to terms with this.
He didn’t look at her when he picked up his cup. “Who told you?”
“Tell. Don’t be mad at him.”
“I’m not. We called him Tattle-Tell for a reason growing up.”
She barked out a laugh. “I’d forgotten about that.”
Dalton sipped his drink. “Was it hard for you today?”
“Harder than I thought it’d be, if you want to know the truth.” She lifted her glass. “Some asshole at the senior center asked me if the only reason I was going to the funeral was to make sure my ex was really dead.”
“Jesus.”
“Yeah, well, like my mother always said, consider the source. Which leads to why I’m here.”
“Ma. Don’t. Okay? It doesn’t matter.”
“I’ll have my say, Dalton, whether you like it or not. So could you look at me please?”
He counted to ten before he raised his head and met her eyes. Kind eyes. Eyes spilling over with tears.
“After everything I went through with that man over the years. Some of it pretty awful stuff…I didn’t think I could hate him any more than I did. I was wrong. After what he told you…”
Don’t say it. Please don’t say it.
“I almost didn’t come here tonight to tell you this. But I want all this shit done and buried now that your father is gone.”
Dalton didn’t move. He didn’t breathe.
“Casper McKay was your father, Dalton. Period. I never cheated on him when we were married. The time in question, when I left him? Unlike your father’s claim he didn’t know where I’d run off to and I’d shacked up with some guy, I stayed with my aunt and uncle—my elderly aunt and uncle. And you can imagine how miserable that must’ve been if I returned to my husband after a week.”
“Why didn’t you want to tell me?”
“Because I think you secretly hoped he wasn’t your father. And that hope…changed you.” She poured another splash of scotch in their cups. “I’m not excusing what he said to you. But not knowing if he was or wasn’t your father allowed you to cut ties with everything that’d always defined you, which you needed. Probably more than you knew. And I understand why you believed him without question. I suspect he’d been laying the groundwork for something like that for years.”
Dalton swirled the scotch in his cup. “Did he believe I wasn’t his kid? That’d explain the beatings and the ridicule he leveled on me.”
“Oh, that bastard knew very well that I never screwed around on him. He never doubted you were his kid, but he made you doubt it and that’s where he got that sense of power. After all the shit you’d been through the week you called off the wedding, Casper knew he could say whatever the hell he wanted to you and you wouldn’t tell anyone, just like you’d kept quiet on the abuse.” She knocked back a slug of scotch. “I confronted him about that, you know.”
“No, I didn’t know,” he said evenly. “When?”
She stared into her cup. “A few months after I started seeing a counselor. She told me I needed to face him head on so I could deal with my guilt and place the blame where it belonged; on him. So I showed up at his church one Sunday morning. Hoo-boy was he shocked to see me. More flustered than I’d ever seen him. He did not want me hanging around chatting up his new churchy friends.”
He couldn’t even smile.
“I asked him out for coffee. I think he would’ve agreed to anything to get me out of his little religious sanctuary. In the restaurant I let fly with everything I had. My disgust for him, for everything he’d done to you. And do you wanna know what that sonuvabitch said to me?” Her haunted eyes met her son’s. “If I’d been a better mother I would’ve known. He knew exactly what’d cut me the deepest and he did it without blinking.”
“I hope you punched him.”
His mom reached out and squeezed his knee. “No, but I did lose my temper. He laughed and claimed you hadn’t told anyone about it until you were an adult because then you could exaggerate the past events to make people feel sorry for you and hate him.” She squeezed his knee again. “That’s when I realized he was afraid people would believe you. Imagine his shock when I told him since he’d spoken so highly of his minister, I intended to ask for his help in learning to find forgiveness.”
