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I swallowed and blinked away the tears. “I never thought about that.”
“Your heart is so good, and your intentions were as well—as twisted as they might’ve been. But if you had taken those bottles and sold even justtenpills to ten kids, that would’ve been the blood of ten people on your hands. And while it still wouldn’t have been yourfaultthey were laced, you would still be in prison, maybe even for the rest of your life. And there is more to your story than that, Soldier. I promise you. There is a reason Billy took that pill before you had the chance to sell any—hesavedyou.”
Holy shit.
I had never thought of it like that before. I had never looked outside of what had happened to imagine what could’ve happened had things gone just a little differently.
It didn’t take away from everything I’d done to save my mother, only for her to continue being an ungrateful bitch. It didn’t take away the fact that I was stillhereand my best friend wasn’t. But maybe, by unwittingly sacrificing his own life, Billy had truly saved mine. Because of his carelessness, I’d been given a second chance. I’d gotten a taste of what it was like to be out of this hellhole. And for that, I could find it in me to be grateful.
“Come on,” Harry said, squeezing his arm tighter around my shoulders before letting go. “Let’s get you warmed up.”
So, I got up, collected my few belongings, and headed toward Harry’s Mazda.
But before I could get in, I looked back toward the patch of dirt and offered a small lift of my hand, a little inconspicuous wave, as I muttered, “Later, Billy.”
CHAPTER TEN
GOOD THINGS FOR A GOOD MAN
Harry’s house was small but welcoming in the way every house should be. I felt all the love contained within those walls the moment I stepped through the door that night, and it never stopped, even after Harry announced to his wife, Sarah, that I’d be staying for the foreseeable future.
Initially, I could tell she wasn’t sold on the idea of letting an ex-con sleep under her roof. Her stony gaze and tight grip on her husband’s arm had given her understandable nerves and fear away.
But Harry explained my predicament to her, and when he finally introduced me by name, the fear and anxiety vanished as her face lit up with instant recognition, and she asked, “Thisis Soldier?”
Harry had been talking about me for years, apparently, and I guessed he’d put in a good word because it was then that she rushed off to make up the guest room and told me I could stay as long as I needed to.
So, that was what I did.
I stayed there for a week, feeling like I’d tripped and fallen into the lap of hospitable luxury, and then, just like that, it was Christmas.
Now, Christmas with Gramma and Grampa had always been nice—whether Diane decided to show up or not. There were always presents, and Gramma always made a nice dinner. But the thing about Christmas with Gramma and Grampa was, it was always just us. Which was still fine and forever appreciated, especially because after they were gone, I didn’t have Christmas at all really. But it had been small, quiet, and low-key, much like everything else during my life with my grandparents. So, anytime one of the kids in school had mentioned how crazy their holiday had been, I’d fantasize about what that might’ve been like while never really knowing what to imagine. I’d seen big family get-togethers on TV plenty of times, but was that really what it was like? Or was it exaggerated for the sake of entertainment? I had never really known—that was, until I spent Christmas with Harry’s family.
Harry was one of four kids, and each of them was married with children, and several of those children had children of their own. Now, somehow, they’d planned to squeeze all forty-six of those people into their little house, and although I couldn’t begin to fathom what kind ofmiraclethey needed to pull off to make that happen, I also couldn’t wait as I helped Sarah cook dinner just hours before the guests were supposed to arrive.
“It’s definitely handy, having you around,” she commented as I easily reached a baking dish from the top shelf of a cabinet.
“Hey, it’s the least I can do.” I then brought down the ingredients for what she’d said was her famous cornbread casserole. “Igottado something to feel useful when you’re feeding me and giving me a place to sleep.”
“Oh, don’t be silly, sweetie. You’re our guest. You don’t have to feel obligated to do anything. Now”—she took the last cans from my hands—“your clothes are in your room. Go get dressed.”
I was getting tired of saying,“You didn’t have to do that,”but I meant it.
All of this—the room, the food, the company, and now, the clothes, apparently—she didn’t have to do any of it. And to insist that I didn’t need to repay her in any way at all, even by helping in any way I could, was absurd. Especially after I’d spent my entire life working and doing things for other people—I didn’t know how to turn that off.
But I did go back to the guest room to find a brand-new pair of black dress pants and a navy-blue button-down on the bed, both in my size—and at six foot seven, that wasn’t always an easy thing to just stumble upon. I was touched and grateful to have a new set of clothes to wear on the first Christmas of the rest of my life, and I got dressed to find that Sarah had a good eye for what would make a guy like me look nice.
After tying my hair back in a low tail at the nape of my neck, I left the room and heard the voices of people I didn’t know coming from the kitchen.
“Daddy, you let acriminalstay in your house?”
“Mom, how could you let him do that?!”
The first voice scoffed. “Oh my God, what if he kills you in your sleep and takes everything you own?”
The second said, “Wait. Has he killed anybody? Why was he in prison in the first place?”
Harry sighed. “Okay,first of all, he’s not going to kill anybody. He was in prison for manslaughter and—”
