Alarmed, I left my arms and hands out to the side and froze, pretty sure I was going to get mauled any minute, but the cat simply looked out over the yard, sitting happy and content.
“What is happening right now?” I said quietly.
A moment later, a sound reached my ears. I tilted my head as I registered the steady thrumming coming from the vicinity of my lap. The damn thing was purring. I’d been feeding him for over two years. He’d barely wandered into the house, and I had a scar on my hand that had been his panicked handiwork. And now, the little shit was purring.
Swallowing, I cautiously moved my right hand. Slowly, I brought it close to his head. After a delicate sniff, the cat shocked the hell out of me by rubbing his face beneath my palm. I held my fingers gingerly as the cat worked to basically pet himself using my hand. Eventually, I extended a finger and crooked it beneath his chin. The purring rumbled louder in the quiet afternoon, and I felt a hesitant smile turn the corners of my lips. I didn’t dare speak again lest the sound disrupt whatever tentative peace we’d brokered.
I couldn’t wait to tell Candace. She’d been desperate to tame this furry beast, always talking to him while he ate his supper and bringing over cat toys to tempt him inside. She’d been convinced I needed a pet to take care of. A sudden ache had the smile slipping off my face.
I sighed and the cat looked up. His rusty meow wobbled from the vibrations of his purr. Maybe Candace had been right. Maybe this cat was rehabilitated and ready to try again.
After another few minutes of cautious petting, he stepped off my lap and went over to the water bowl I refilled daily. I rose and opened the back sliding door, leaving it open while I went in to prepare his dinner.
The cat followed, and when I placed the now-full dish of cat food on the kitchen floor, he walked over casually and started eating. I watched for long minutes as he consumed the offerings and then swiped a rough pink tongue over the side of his paw to clean his face. When he was finished, he wandered into the living room, like it was totally normal, and curled up on the couch.
I stood dumbfounded on the threshold as he closed his eyes and appeared to go to sleep.
“What brought all this on, huh?” He blinked sleepy yellow eyes my way and then ignored me, repositioning and curling more fully on his side. “What made you decide you could trust me all of a sudden?”
The cat didn’t answer.
I didn’t have much time to mull it over. A knock sounded at my front door, and I wondered, irrationally, if it was Candace.
Suddenly, the distance I’d craved last night and all day today abandoned me. I wanted it to be her. I wanted to hold her and apologize for the way things had gone down yesterday. I wanted to tell her I loved her too. I didn’t want to go another minute without setting things right.
With time and a bit of distance, I could see where Candace was coming from. The righteous indignation on my behalf. The anger and worry she’d been unable to contain. If the tables had been turned, I would have hated watching anyone hurt or demean her the same way. Hadn’t I inserted myself a time or two already? With her family, her sister, at the damn farmers’ market when someone called her Candy instead of the name she preferred?
I couldn’t imagine standing by while someone took advantage of her or tore her down, broke her heart, upended her life, and made her out to be the villain. So, yeah, maybe Candace hadn’t gone about it the right way, but I could see that she’d stood up for me because she cared. And that meant something.
But it wasn’t Candace at my door. It was a vision from my past and the least likely person I could imagine darkening my doorstep.
“Reverend,” I greeted, and then stood back. “How can I help you?”
“Can I come in for a moment? Have a word?”
I pulled the door open wider in answer. Some ingrained part of me who’d always sought his approval felt the same urge now. I’d been the grateful child, the helpful neighbor, the charity case, and the respectful son-in-law, so there were lots of people-pleasing parts to choose from. Nerves and nostalgia battled for dominance, but mostly I just felt sad that I’d devoted so much of my life to someone who’d cast me aside without a backward glance.
Reverend Price didn’t bother removing his jacket. Instead, he surveyed the living room briefly, noting the cat on the sofa, before sitting in one of the club chairs by the window. I wondered if, in that momentary glance, he remembered helping me refinish the floorboards after Hannah and I first moved in, or the time he watched Lyndsey take her first steps beside the coffee table in the center of the room.
I wiped my palms down the front of my jeans and sat in the chair opposite.
“Mark, I want to apologize.” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his thighs—a departure from his typically ruthless posture. This was his counseling pose, the bearing of an everyday man connecting with sinners. “Hannah relayed the truth of what happened—back in college. Her mother and I are grateful for what you did for our daughter and our grandchild. Decker, also, was unaware that you weren’t Lyndsey’s biological father. He shares our gratitude.”
At my blank look, Reverend Price clarified, “Hannah’s husband. He’s a good person and a wonderful father to Lyndsey. He loves her very much.”
I nodded. I’d only registered the unknown man at the farm the previous day in his proximity to Lyndsey, and then I hadn’t thought of him again. But I was glad Hannah had someone decent in her life. I was even more grateful that Lyndsey had a solid, loving presence—a father she deserved. From the look of things, their family was growing, and I didn’t begrudge them that either. I wanted Lyndsey to have a wonderful life with parents who adored her.
“It was wrong of Hannah to lie, but she made a mistake and has asked us and the Lord for forgiveness.”
I noticed the reverend didn’t say that Hannah had been wrong in assuming they’d disown her for showing up pregnant out of wedlock at twenty years old. I guessed if my love was conditional and hypocritical, I wouldn’t advertise it either.
He also failed to indicate whether Hannah would be askingmefor forgiveness. He was here in his daughter’s place, after all.
I resisted the urge to shake my head, realizing suddenly how much anger and resentment I still carried. The same emotions I’d forced down for years. Mark the reliable. Mark the safety net. Mark the pushover, the scapegoat, the doormat, the fall guy.
Candace had been right. Hannah was selfish and self-serving. Even now, she was playing the victim. Her father was here apologizing. Sure as hell wasn’t her.
The reverend clasped his hands loosely together. I had to give him credit, he held my gaze, unflinching and direct as always. “I can’t imagine how difficult that must have been for you, when Hannah left and took Lyndsey with her. You were always such a devoted husband and father in the short time you were married. I think we were all surprised and confused by the news of your separation. We were disappointed, of course.”
