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Rebecca didn’t quite know what to say, so she kept silent. Though she grabbed his hand and held it, trying to give him some warmth, because the man looked ashen.
“I knew her as a business acquaintance. Angel and I…” His voice trembled, and he swore. “We had a rough patch. She was just so damn busy with the boys, and I was working a lot. I was weak and self-centered, and I have no excuse other than that, in the moment, being with this other woman felt good.” He sighed, and his shoulders sank. “It didn’t last. These things never do. I loved my wife. Our sons. Our family. I ended it because I had to. Because I knew I had to be better. But life, such as it is, doles out the good and the bad indiscriminately. For me, it was too late.”
John was silent for a few moments, a faraway look in his eyes. “You see Hudson had met Susan before. Years earlier. The day his mother was killed. Susan had been to the house when Angel was out with Wyatt. She left a message with Hudson asking Angel to meet her. And Hudson, not knowing any better, passed it along when his mother called home to check on eggs. Eggs.”
Lost in thought, John remained silent and then with a start, continued. “If not for that phone call things might have turned out differently. But as it was, Angel left from the grocery store with Wyatt in the car, not knowing what she was heading into. I don’t know if it was by God’s grace that she never made it to the diner, because she died not knowing of my infidelity.”
Rebecca’s eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open. Horrified, she could only watch as the painful events of that long-ago night flickered across John Blackwell’s face.
She knew the details. Everyone did. A drunk driver crossed the center line and hit Angel’s car head on. It was tragic, and the only good thing to come of it was the fact that Wyatt, sitting in the backseat, escaped with only a few cuts and bruises and a broken arm.
“After the accident, I never heard from Susan again. I’m not sure why. She just up and vanished. It was easy to place the blame for my loss on others. Most notably Wyatt. Somehow, I put it in my head that she was on the road because of him. I buried all of it and didn’t think of that woman again until Hudson…” His lips trembled. “Until that day she called again, and he realized exactly who she was. The woman who his mother was supposed to meet the day of the accident. He raged at me. As young as he was, his anger and disgust was a thing unlike any I’d seen before.”
John sighed and shook his head. “I denied it, of course. All of it. And then Hudson threatened to go find this woman. To go find this supposed love child. I told him then that if he left, he was dead to me. Told him there would not be a reason for him to return. I played a bluff, and he called it.”
His sad eyes broke her heart. “Unfortunately, you got caught in the crosshairs of his rage and anger and need to do something. I know he didn’t want to hurt you. He just didn’t know how not to. He couldn’t come back here because I would be a constant reminder of all that he’d lost.”
John closed his eyes. “He made a life for himself. Something to be proud of. All of my boys have, and that’s saying something, because I was a miserable excuse for a father.”
“No.” Rebecca grabbed his cold hands. “It says everything about you and Angel and what both of you instilled in those boys. Love can be buried. It can suffocate and go away. Or it can linger as if waiting for the right moment to spark again. Your boys know you love them. They know you’re human.”
She thought of Salvatore’s words and smiled, a sad, wistful sort of thing. “I have to believe they’ll find their way back to us.”
John’s eyes flew open. “Us?”
She simply shrugged. “One can hope.” Rebecca cleared her throat and jumped to her feet. “I need to get back and help out. Thanks for telling me this.” She paused. “Did he ever find this Susan?”
“He did.” John’s gaze slipped away.
“And the child?”
“He never said, and I’m ashamed to say I never asked.”
Darlene joined them just then, her smile faltering when she sat down across from John. “You don’t look well. Should we go?”
“No. Rebecca just brought us a cocktail. We’ll have a drink in Sal’s name and then head home.”
Rebecca dropped a kiss to each of their cheeks, and then left them alone. She spent the rest of the evening thinking about family and love. About hatred and blame. And Rebecca realized a few things.
It didn’t matter what social ladder you clung to or which tax bracket was checked off on your income tax return. No one was immune from pain or betrayal. From loss and heartache.
Hudson had left and told her he’d be back. She wanted to believe him. But it had been three weeks, and she’d heard nothing. Three weeks of sleepless nights and an ache inside her that was so sharp and strong, it left her nauseated. Empty.
It was her past all over again.
She thought again, of Sal’s words, but they brought her no comfort. Because she knew that love was not always enough. Sometimes love just made things worse.
Chapter 31
When Hudson flew into Detroit Metropolitan, he was sporting a headache from lack of sleep, and lack of caffeine. The latter he’d stayed away from, as he was so wound up, the muscles across
the back of his shoulders were like steel ropes.
He needed a massage, a shower, possibly a haircut, but more importantly, he needed to be back in Crystal Lake by six o’clock. He picked up his rental, checked the time, and then made his way over to the MGM Grand Detroit. Leave it to Wyatt to put himself up in a casino.
He called his brother on the way over and spied him signing autographs near the entrance. Funny as hell that Wyatt Blackwell, a celebrated NASCAR driver, didn’t own a goddamn vehicle. Hudson wasn’t exactly sure what to make of that, but he didn’t feel much like dwelling on it.
He put the window down and shouted, “Get in.”
