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“My dad enlisted in the Navy.”
“Yes. It was his way out. And I didn’t see him again for another eight years. I was shocked he even came to our mother’s funeral. By then he’d gone and married your mom.” Janelle smiles. “She was beautiful and entirely too good for my brother. But he loved her. I’ll always remember the way he looked at her as she held Christian. It was like his entire world resided in her.”
“I barely remember what they were like together.”
“You were so young when she had the stroke. I came to stay and help out for a few days. Do you remember?”
I wanted to tell her that I remembered, but I didn’t. “No.”
“You were so sad. I could barely get you to come out of your room. And your brother…” She looks up to the ceiling, shaking her head. “God forgive me, but he was a monster.” I laugh at that. “He rolled his eyes and walked away from me when I introduced myself. He spit the homemade lamb stew I made back onto his plate after one bite—said it tasted ‘like ass.’ On day three I threw in the towel when he told me to fuck off and your dad didn’t correct him.” In response to my wide eyes, she nods and puts her hand over her heart. “Swear to God.”
“I believe you.”
“I always felt alone growing up. Your dad and I were never close, and my mother was not up to being a mother. After my visit, I’d wonder about you from time to time—hoped you had an easier time of it.”
“Me and Christian aren’t close, never were. My father was always closer to Christian. They had football in common.”
“Your dad and I were never close either. He did give me away at my wedding, though.” Janelle shoots me a sly grin. “Turned out to be a bad omen, I guess.”
“What happened?”
“Paul was a really nice guy…He still is. I ended things after nine years. I just couldn’t stand disappointing him anymore, even though he never acted like having children was a make or break situation.”
“I’m so sorry.”
Janelle sips at her soda. “It was a bad time. I just wanted to set him free, let him meet someone new, someone he could start a family with.”
“You couldn’t adopt?”
“Before I met Paul…Well, let’s just say I made a few bad decisions. I had a boyfriend, a real wild one.” When I smile, she shakes her head. “Not the good kind of wild. He was a small time dealer with a temper. Yeah, and it turns out his idea of a good time was armed robbery. Two weeks after my eighteenth birthday I was driving the getaway car. I was tried as an adult of course.”
“You went to jail?”
“For two weeks. I mean, I knew the boy was no angel, but I truly didn’t know he walked into that convenience store fixing to hold a gun to the cashier’s head. I testified against him…Didn’t see how I owed him my life after what he put me through. I was found guilty but the district attorney and the judge were sympathetic. I was sentenced to five years of probation.” She shakes her head. “I can still hardly believe it happened.”
“I can’t picture you meeting with a probation officer.”
She nods. “Month after month after month. It’s sobering, I’ll tell you that.”
“So how did you meet Paul?”
“One of the conditions of my parole was steady employment. I was hired as a temp and Paul was my boss.” She smiles and shakes her head. “He saw something in me. Went to bat for me when I applied for a permanent position at the firm and my record became an issue. Pushed me to start junior college, encouraged me to apply for promotions...He taught me everything I know.” She reaches over and takes my hand. “You never know what lies around the bend, you know? Here I was, in the worst predicament possible, and something very good came of it. I met Paul, who showed me how to stand on my own two feet.”
“But?” I ask, having not gotten an answer to my question.
“Long story short, no one was giving us a child to raise with a felony conviction on my record. I bet it’s different now, at least I like to think the world is a more accepting place…That a dumb split-second decision you make when you’re a kid doesn’t brand you for life.”
“Where is Paul now?”
“He stayed in Philadelphia. Started dating someone I’d introduced him to years before. When he called to tell me he was getting married, I ran. Had to get far, far away from the pain. Would have sailed to the Arctic Circle if it was possible.”
“Powell is a close second,” I offer, trying to ease her sadness.
“Damn straight it is. Those first two winters I wondered if I’d truly gone nuts, upending my life like that and heading off to no man’s land. But I found peace in the snow, the lake, the silence.”
“You’ve built a nice life for yourself there.”
She takes in a breath and straightens up in her chair. “I have. I have my band of misfit friends—”
