Unfortunately, it wasn’t simply dealing with Crane that was getting him tied up in knots lately. He banished the faint thought of Sarah teasing the back of his mind. “Frank should never have taken that contract away. I am going to get it back.”’
“But at what cost?”
“What do you mean?” Logan frowned at his mother, surprised at the change in her tone. “You’ve always wanted justice for Dad. I’m trying to get it.”
“Maybe I was wrong.”
“What?” Logan sat up, leaned his elbows on his desk and stared at his mother. “Where did that come from?”
“The minister said something this morning that caught my attention. And the same thing came to mind when Sarah came to the house after church.”
Logan waited, surprised that his mother would even say Sarah’s name. When he and Sarah were going out those many years ago, he had never told his parents. His father wasn’t doing very well and he knew his mother would simply get too upset about him consorting with the enemy, so to speak.
But keeping the relationship quiet had seemed juvenile and petty. So after a few months he had told his mother. She had said that as long as he was happy, she would be happy for him. But he knew that she was waiting, hoping, he would break up with Sarah.
When she found out that, at the behest of her father, Sarah had broken up with him—over the phone—she was furious. Furious with Frank but also with Sarah for not standing up to her father.
Donna pulled her legs up, hugging her knees. “The minister was talking about anger and how it can eat at you, do you remember?”
He nodded. How quickly he had forgotten though.
“He said that anger can be so satisfying, at first. Gorging on injustices done and pain felt. But that in the end, the carcass at the feast is yourself.” She bounced her chin on her knees in a curiously childlike gesture. “I can’t get that idea out of my head. I’ve been angry so long and it has taken up so much of my energy…”
“What do you mean?”
Donna laid her cheek on her knee, looking away from Logan. “I started going to church because I heard Frank wasn’t going anymore. I don’t know if you knew, but I just couldn’t face him. I was glad when you started coming with me. But when I saw Sarah walking toward us, I didn’t want to talk to her. Didn’t want to have anything to do with her. I was angry with her for your sake and I was angry with her because of what her father did to Jack. I knew it was childish and I knew it was wrong, but there it was.”
She shook her head, then laughed a humorless laugh. “Then, a couple of days ago I went to your father’s grave. That cold day? Anyway, I walked through the graveyard and I passed that young Westervelds girl’s grave. Marilee. I stopped and read the headstone. She was just nineteen. And for some reason, for the first time since that accident, I realized that Frank Westerveld had buried a beloved child.”
She stopped, shaking her head again. “No parent should have to bury a child. No sister should have to stand by her own sister’s grave. Then when Sarah came by today and I talked to her…”
“What are you saying, Mom?”
Donna looked over at Logan, her eyes troubled. “I’m tired of being angry all the time. And I don’t want to be angry with that young girl, that’s for certain.”
Logan should have felt happy about that. But he wasn’t sure himself anymore how he felt about Sarah. She confused and puzzled him.
“I’m glad, Mom. I’m glad that you’re finding some measure of peace.”
Donna got up, walked to his side and stroked his hair. “I want the same thing for you, Logan. You know that.”
“I don’t know, Mom. The peace you want for me seems as elusive as a win for Billy’s basketball team. I know things…”
Donna frowned. “Tell me.”
“You’ve just found peace, Mom. I can’t tell you.”
“If it’s keeping you from finding that same peace, I want you to tell me, Logan. I want you to trust me.”
Logan sighed then finally let it out. “Awhile back I overheard Frank saying that he should have testified for Dad. Should have been his character witness.”
Donna turned to lean back against the desk. She looked away from Logan, frowning. “That doesn’t surprise me.”
Was that all she could say? “He’s a prominent member of the community, Mom. He could have made a difference for Dad. How can you act so casual about that? Think of the trouble he could have saved us!”
“Frank Westerveld’s coming forward as a character witness might have helped, but he never would have done it then, no matter what he says now.”
“Why not?”
Donna crossed her arms over her chest and, as she leveled him a steady look, Logan sensed another secret looming. “Frank was punishing me through Jack. Because I wouldn’t accept Frank’s money. Or his gifts or his attention.”
Pete Kolasa stood up, his hands on his hips, his plaid shirt straining at the buttons. “How many more games do the boys need to lose? They’re almost at the bottom of their league now!”
“If they don’t pull up, they’re going to be matched against those boys from Beaverlodge again. Toughest team in the league,” seconded Beth Sawchuk, her corkscrew curls bobbing as she glanced around the other parents in the classroom.
The only surprising thing about this parents’ meeting was how quickly it had been organized. Sarah knew something was afoot when she saw a group of people clustered around Trix Setterfeld in one corner of the gym after the game on Saturday.
Sarah knew all the parents by name and had spoken to many of them after practices and games. But the only person in the group who would meet her eye was the tall man standing against the wall at the back of the room. Logan Carleton.
“All last year Mr. DeHaan kept saying that this team was going to be the best team he’s ever seen,” Pete said. “By this time last year, the boys had won twice as many games as they lost. This year, it’s the other way around.”
“How do you suppose replacing Sarah as a coach will resolve that?” Morris added a faint laugh, as if he thought the idea not even worth getting serious about. He crossed his arms as he rested one hip on the metal teacher’s desk. “This isn’t the NBA. It’s just high school basketball.”
Trix Setterfeld stood up, her arms crossed over her corduroy blazer. “Morris, this is not just high school basketball. This represents an opportunity for our boys to get in front of scouts from colleges.” Her gaze slid to Sarah then she focused on Morris. “Some of us can’t afford to pay the full cost of our boys’ education.”
And there it was again. The fabulously wealthy Westerveld family just didn’t understand the plight of the common Millars Crossing resident.
“Sarah, do you have anything to say about this?” Morris asked.
Sarah had lots to say, but knew that she had to tread a fine line between diplomacy and hard facts. She was very aware of Logan standing in the back of the room, watching.
She guessed he had spearheaded this movement and, though it made her clench her teeth in anger, it also hurt that he seemed to have no qualms about taking the coaching position away from her. She should never have let him know what it meant to her. She had given him an edge that he could use.