Maddie felt a tear slip onto her cheek. She wanted to argue, to tell Angie that she had no idea what her life was like and what it would have been, but all she could think about was the fact that Deke screamed in the night and she’d wanted him to be miserable. So honesty took over. “No, I wouldn’t. I want a family but not now. I don’t hate this town. I have fond memories of it, but it’s not my home anymore. I don’t want a husband or kids right now. It would be very difficult to balance that life against my career. Now I want to see how far I can go. I want this chance.”
She was on the cusp of an exciting life, of a life she’d dreamed about.
The one she’d wanted to share with Deke, but now she had to consider the fact that it wouldn’t have been possible if she’d stayed here.
“Then don’t do this to him.”
Her heart ached. Maybe it always had. Maybe it hadn’t stopped aching since the day he’d left her, but she’d buried the hurt under layers of arrogance. She felt it now, felt the keening hurt that had become a part of her. “He wouldn’t want to see me?”
Angie’s gaze softened. “I think he wouldn’t want you to see him like this.”
He was a proud man, and it would hurt him to have her see him so low. If she was in his life, she could insist on it, but they weren’t together. They were miles and miles apart despite the fact that he was right behind those doors. “Is he talking to someone?”
“Who is he going to talk to out here?” Angie asked with a sigh. “He sits. Sometimes he watches TV with Dad, but mostly he just sits, and we try our hardest to take care of him but nothing seems to make a difference.”
Shame washed through her. Deke was going through something horrible and she couldn’t be around him, couldn’t try to help because she’d shunned him for years. Once he’d broken up with her, she’d cut off their friendship, and now that seemed like such a terrible thing to do.
Oddly, even over the years she’d felt close to him. She’d made him the bad guy in her world, and that had been a way to keep him in her life without giving up an ounce of her pride.
But she remembered who he was. “He has trouble asking for help. Do you remember how he was when he broke his leg junior year? He was the biggest bear. He hated feeling helpless.”
Angie nodded. “He gave my mom such hell because he wouldn’t stay down. That’s what scares me now. He’s here but he’s not here. I think he’s back there, and I don’t know how to reach him. And these stupid enchiladas are his favorite, and he’s not going to eat them. He barely eats at all. But I don’t know what to do so I bake enchiladas and muffins.”
Deke was a man who needed to do something. He needed to feel like he was contributing.
He was a man who needed to be needed in order to feel centered.
“You can’t treat him like an invalid. I know you want to take care of him, but that might mean something different with Deke. You need to give him something to do. Make him responsible for something,” Maddie said. “Even if it’s dumb. He needs a task to focus on, the more important the better.”
“He’s recovering from a couple of injuries. He needs rest,” Angie replied.
And then it hit her. Deke loved kids. He’d been the teenaged boy who genuinely didn’t mind watching younger kids. He would have them playing football or having tea parties with teddy bears. They lived in a small, working-class town. The older kids were always watching the younger ones, and Deke never resented it. “Make him feed the baby. Babies. Didn’t Sharon have one six months ago?”
Angie nodded. “Yes, and Laurie had one two months before me. Mom calls us a baby factory, but that’s what happens when you have five girls in eight years. You think that would help? He seems so distant.”
“So bring him back.” She wanted to walk into that rec center and wrap her arms around him, but she believed Angie that her presence could cause him distress.
They’d made their choices. He’d chosen to walk away rather than be the reason she stayed, and she’d chosen to be angry with the boy she’d loved since she’d first laid eyes on him.
They could have found a friendship, reconnected, but she’d been hurt and now she couldn’t help him.
“Show him life didn’t stop.” Maddie was absolutely sure of this path. “Make him look down at his nephews and nieces and realize he still matters, that no matter how broken he feels, he can put himself back together. If he gives you trouble tell him how much you have to do and that you could use his help. Make him feel a little bad so he can find a way to feel good again.”
“That could work.” Angie sounded hopeful. “Cover him in babies. I can do that.”
Maddie gave her a smile that wouldn’t camouflage the fact that she was crying. “Good. Tell my mom work called and there’s a problem I need to deal with. I’ll come pick her up when she’s ready.”
“Maddie, I…” Angie began.
But she’d made her point, and there was nothing to do about it now. Maddie fished the keys to her overly expensive car out of her bag. “No, it’s okay. I don’t want to make this about me. I’ve already done that enough. And this is absolutely the first time I’ve worn this dress and these shoes, and I will probably never wear them again because they are uncomfortable.”
She started for her car.
“I’ll tell your mom,” Angie promised. “And, Maddie, thank you.”
She nodded and forced herself to walk away. It was time to move on. She thought she had, but if there was one thing she was absolutely certain of it was the fact that she’d never gotten over Deke Murphy.
Not even a little bit.
* * * *
He was surrounded by people he loved and he couldn’t feel a thing. He felt numb, like someone had hollowed out his insides and he was walking around empty.
All in all, it wasn’t how he’d thought his big homecoming would go.
Deke sat at one of the folding tables the ladies of his family had decorated with the same tablecloths they’d probably used at the party to celebrate his parents’ marriage thirty plus years ago. That was how little things changed in Calhoun. Once he’d found the familiarity comforting. Now it was jarring because he knew he should recognize his childhood hometown as soothing, but his world was colored with blood and violence and anger.
He knew how small he was.
He knew how fragile he was.
The comforts of family and home could be stripped away so easily.
The doors came open and he watched as Evelyn Hill walked in carrying a familiar looking car seat. He was sure one of his nieces or nephews was in it. His sisters were breeding like rabbits.
He watched to see if Maddie walked in behind her mom. She was in town. His father had mentioned that casually this morning over the eggs and toast his mom had made. He’d barely touched it before, and after the news that the only woman he’d ever loved was not two miles away, he hadn’t eaten at all.
He wasn’t hungry anymore. Not for food or drinks or drugs. It was weird but he kind of wished he wanted drugs. It would mean he wanted something. Instead, he simply wanted to sleep, but even there he was tormented by dreams that seemed more real than his waking life.