Lucas’s hold on her hand went slack. It was as if she could feel any sense of assurance or worth draining from him. Say something, Lucas. Tell her she has it wrong.
When he didn’t speak, Jenessa wetted her lips. “That’s quite an imaginative conjecture. And it’s completely inaccurate. I’ve only ever tried to do what’s good and helpful for the kids. I adore them, and yes, I’m obviously attached. But I know what’s coming. I wasn’t running away from it.”
“I understand that now. And again, I apologize for the misunderstanding.” Carmen tapped her glasses farther up the bridge of her nose. “My job is to look out for the children’s safety and wellbeing first and foremost, but I realize that in my concern and distress over their whereabouts, I misconstrued the circumstances.”
“Can we leave now?” Lucas finally spoke again.
Carmen only spared him a brief glance. “First we need to talk about what will happen tomorrow. I’ve spoken to Dustin twice now. He’s got a red-eye flight tonight. He won’t arrive in Iowa until early tomorrow morning. He’s going to catch some sleep in a hotel and then come to my office in Ames.”
Then it was really happening. What she’d known was coming was less than twenty-four hours away.
“I’m going to spend some time talking with him. But unless there are any immediate red flags . . .” She waited until Jenessa met her eyes. “We’ll come together to your house to pick up the children. I’ll text you before leaving. Please have everything ready and packed.”
“Do you know where he’ll be taking them from there?”
Carmen nodded. “The rental they were living in before is still available. He was able to make arrangements to pay a deposit. That’s a small but good step in the right direction.” Carmen folded her hands atop the table. “But the DHS case will still be open for some time. I’ll be meeting with Dustin regularly, checking up on the situation to make sure the kids are taken care of.”
Jenessa knew she was only setting herself up for false hope if she asked the question, but she couldn’t stop herself. “If . . . if things don’t go well, if it turns out Dustin Hollis ends up needing to go back to Alaska or decides he doesn’t want to be responsible for the children, is there any chance . . . I just need you to know that I would open up my home to those kids at any time. For however long.” For forever.
For the first time since they’d walked into the conference room, Carmen’s regard came close to softening. “I know what you’re asking, Jenessa. And we just don’t know what the future will hold. I always like to see families restored, but I also know that sometimes families can be knit together by something other than blood relation.”
She must’ve known Jenessa would latch on too tightly to that last sentence because she went on quickly. “But I can tell you that any sort of longer-term custody arrangement would come with many more complications and requirements than a temporary emergency situation.”
Why did Carmen’s gaze flick to Lucas just then? What was she trying to say?
“There’s no point, though, in ruminating on any of that now. Not when we don’t know how things with Dustin Hollis will play out.”
Lucas was so still beside her. So painfully quiet, even for him. Carmen stood, perhaps sensing they needed a moment alone. But when she silently left the room, Lucas only stared at the top of the table.
“Luke, the things Carmen said . . .” She touched his arm and he flinched.
“Let’s just go home.” He rose, reached for her hand. But it didn’t comfort her the way it should.
A sleepless night was only going to make this conversation more difficult. But Lucas had put it off long enough.
Through his windshield, Lucas stared at the age-worn farmhouse where he’d spent so much of his childhood. The pale light of morning washed over its faded gray siding and windows. Kit kept saying one of these days she was going to scrape off the peeling paint and freshen up the place, at which point Beckett usually chimed in and said it’d be easier to hire out the job.
And then the both of them would lapse into contented sighs, acknowledging they cared more about their fifty acres of land and nearly five thousand trees than the exterior of an old house.
Their conversations had never failed to fan the flame of his desire for that kind of belonging, home, family. Too often in the past, his longing had flickered down into mere sparks. But the past weeks had been so packed with fresh kindling that now he was afire with hope and even something like certainty.
And when he’d told Jenessa last night that he was giving up Bridgewell, he’d truly believed his future burned bright and promising.
Until a new storm doused his optimism. It wasn’t the police or even the shock of what Carmen had assumed. It’d been what the social worker said. And then what she didn’t say but clearly implied.
That if there was any lingering chance of Jenessa having a future with the children, his presence was a complication.
Even now, the realization, the pain of it, twisted and clenched inside him. He’d tried praying last night, but the silence that had filled his years in Afghanistan, in prison, revisited him now.
I know I said I was going to try, God. But what’s the point if You won’t speak to me? Help me?
He pushed open his truck door. He had as little optimism for this conversation to come with his father as he did his other worries. But the one thing he’d known this morning was that he couldn’t keep avoiding it. Even if only for Kit’s sake, he needed to step up.
And he needed to get it out of the way first thing so he could be back at Jen’s side when Dustin Hollis showed up.
The first frost of fall had visited overnight, leaving a glassy white sheen over the hardened grass underfoot. At least he’d thought to cover the gardens with tarp before he and Jen had left town the other night. Only a week and a half until the gala, but it felt part of a distant future. Too far away to dwell on with all the concerns of the present.
Kit must have seen him coming. She appeared on the porch steps, cup of coffee in hand, but she promptly set it on the wide railing and pulled him into a hug. “I’m really glad you’re here, Lucas.”
“I feel bad that I abandoned you with him for this long.”
She pulled back, not quite smiling, but not frowning either. “Honestly, I think it’s for the best. I have a feeling he could only handle the reactions of one of his adult offspring at a time.”
“Yeah, but he deserves to face both—all three—of us.”
Surprisingly, Kit chuckled. “He does. But Luke . . .” She handed him the mug, nodded to let him know she’d meant it for him. “While he’s made awful choices, if there’s one thing that’s become clear to me in the past three days, it’s that he’s been facing the consequences of the choices day after day for years. He’s been punished by guilt and regret and, believe it or not, even a sense of loss.”
Lucas lifted one shoulder. “Good.” He probably sounded spiteful, but he was too tired and too churned up to care.
“I’m not saying I’m over it,” Kit went on. “Or even that I’m ready to have some kind of relationship with him. But my wise husband reminded me the other night that carrying the burden of feeling like it’s my job to see that he’s suffered enough for his choices is just pointless. Keeps me from processing my own emotions and reactions.”