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“Can’t or won’t?” Prosper’s eyes glittered with pent-up emotion.
“Does it matter?”
“Yes, it fucking matters. What the hell is this? You punishing me for last night? I just bled my heart out to you and you’re using it against me. Who the fuck does that? Who does that?” Prosper’s face contorted in pain.
Pinky couldn’t stop the tears from running down her cheeks.
”Goddamn it, honey, don’t cry. I don’t want to make you cry.” Prosper’s voice was filled with heartbreaking remorse. “It’s just that … I can’t lose you, Pinky. I can’t lose you too.”
Pinky straightened her spine and wiped her tears away with a trembling hand.
“If after … if when Maggie’s gone?” As soon as Pinky saw Prosper flinch at the words, she knew for sure that Dolly had been right. Pinky had to let him go or forevermore be associated with the worst event of his life. “If you find you have anything left to give, I’ll take it. No matter how much, no matter how little, I will take it and cherish it for the rest of my life. But unless and until that day comes, you can’t come here anymore. You’re not welcome here anymore. Not in my bed, not in my heart, not in my home.”
There was nothing more to say, so Prosper said nothing.
Pinky watched as he walked out without looking back.
Then Pinky closed the door behind him and locked it.
They buried Maggie a week later on a sunny hill at the edge of a small cemetery where wildflowers grew and birds made their nests in the strong branches of a large oak tree. After a long brother-to-brother talk with Jack, Prosper kept his promise to Maggie and did not take the girls from their father. What he did do was leave a small crew from the MC at the garage to keep an eye on Jack and make sure he was doing what he needed to do to take care of Maggie’s girls.
Then Prosper left. He took off on his bike and rode and rode and rode for months on end. Those times that had become so precious to him meant nothing to him now. He survived in a vacuum of time and space and deep, deep grief. It took a long while for him to work out the rage and despair. But after too many barroom brawls, drunken nights, and coked-out days, Prosper was finally able to see his way through to the other side.
And when he did, he found his way back to Pinky.
And just like she had promised, Pinky greeted Prosper with arms wide open.
“And that’s the end of it.” Prosper scrubbed a hard hand over his jaw. “I think this calls for another damn brew.”
“Sure thing.” Pinky agreed without hesitation. Because really, this was not the time to deny a man a beer. In telling the tale, Prosper had relived the most painful part of his life and his strong back was slumped by the weight of it all.
A part of Pinky had always known that Claire was Prosper’s daughter. She had known it in the way you know which card is next in the deck or who’s on the telephone before it rings.
Pinky just knew.
“How did we end up at the lake house with you that summer?” asked Claire, who had been listening with rapt attention to every word.
“I’m done. Conversation for another time.” Prosper’s word signaled the end of the discussion.
“You can’t just bedone…” Claire protested.
“I can and I am. I’m damn exhausted.” Prosper leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes.
Claire looked at Pinky for help. But Pinky knew that her husband was at the end of his emotional rope. She also knew that Claire had come to Pinky’s home looking for the truth and Pinky was gonna make damn sure she got it.
“You don’t remember?” Pinky asked Claire. “You don’t remember what happened? Why Prosper came to get you and Raine? Why he brought you to the lake house?”
Claire shrugged. “No, I don’t. I guess I really never thought about it, either. I remember bits and pieces but nothing real concrete. I remember being at the lake house, I’m just not quite sure how we got there.”
“Try and remember, honey.”
“Pinky …” Prosper growled out a low warning.
“It’s time, Prosper. Claire needs to know the truth and we’re gonna tell her.” Pinky turned away from Prosper and looked at Claire.
“Tell me the bits you remember.”
“I remember being hungry.” Claire chewed her lip in thought. “And I remember Raine pouring us out some cereal. I remember running away from her because I didn’t want her to brush my hair. For some reason it hurt, it must have been in tangles. I remember that somehow Prosper was there, too, but he didn’t stay. He put us in the car and when I woke up, we were at the lake house.” Then she paused. “But I don’t remember Jack … I don’t remember our father being there. Where was Jack in all this?”
