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“Or my place.” He winks.
Fuck this.
I turn, hell-bent on leaving out the back door when my eyes catch Nora’s, she’s looking right at me. The Locke kid elbows her, drawing her attention back to the game.
I look back at Whit, whose brow arches in warning.
I make my exit.
Outside I take in a huge breath and exhale, “Fuuuuck,” as I head over to the cemetery to beg Mom to give me answers.
4
Sunday Night
Iknew there would come a day when I’d have to explain Nora to John Paul, and last night, seeing him at Ollie’s, I knew it would be soon. But I didn’t expect he’d show up at church this morning any more than I thought Nora would ask him if he was her daddy. Even more surprising was the way he reacted to her—and not just the questions he asked, but how he asked them. It was as if he wanted her to be his.
My stomach has been in knots all day because of that.
To make it worse, Kal broke his very strict schedule and not only came to church, but also to the house after church and ended up staying most of the day. Knowing how he is about said schedule, I questioned him. He told me he wanted to spend more time with Nora, to bond, so that when we get married, the transition from Popa B and Gram’s house to his place won’t be so difficult.
Kal left after dinner, right before Nora’s bedtime routine. Once she had her bath, I tucked her into bed and read her three books.
As I reach over to turn off her bedside lamp, she yawns and then says, “I love you, Mommy.”
“Love you most, little slugger.”
Walking across the back lot of the church, I see the back porch light on at Pope’s place and a fire in the pit. John, Marks, and Danny built it our junior year for Bianca’s birthday. She loved sitting out there, making s’mores, chatting about everything from baseball to her Saturday bowling league, or just simply looking at the heavens, even more so when she got sick.
The back door opens, and I hear Danny laugh as he and Pope walk out.
“Should have called me.”
“I’m not incapable of turning on the power. I just needed to know where the main power switch was located.” He looks from him to the fire and spots me.
“Hey, guys.”
“What’s up, Whit?” Danny gives me that whole cat-that-ate-the-canary smile of his.
“Saw the fire and thought I’d come check it out.”
“Well, I’d love to stay, but that school bell rings awfully early in the morning, and the old man gets pissed when I hit snooze.” Danny jokes and then turns and lifts an arm in a wave. “Night, folks.”
“Night, Danny,” I say.
“Thanks, D,” Pope says. He walks over and sits in one of the chairs by the fire, opens the cooler next to him, and asks, “Beer or pop?”
“Got Dr. Pepper in there?” I ask as I walk over and sit in the chair closest to his.
“Happen to have one or two.” He reaches in, grabs one, pops the tab, and hands it to me.
After he grabs a Dr. Pepper for himself, we sit in silence, watching the flames dance for a little while as I wait for him to speak.
When he doesn’t, I look over and find that he’s staring at me. “I know you have questions, and I want to give you answers to them.”
He turns his ball cap so the brim is no longer covering his face, leans forward, sets his pop on the ground, and rests his elbows on his knees. “I’ve been back less than two days. On the surface, it seems like nothing’s changed, but I gotta tell you, I feel like I’ve entered the twilight zone, Whit.”
“I’m sorry, but?—”
