AllFreeNovel
Share Us
For all the disappointment that still lingered in knowing that his business was finished and none of his boys would take it over, Kevin clung to that last statement.
He had been a father to his boys. And that had mattered more than any job or business ever could.
Chapter Eight
(in which there might be a war)
Tylerneededtogetto work, but Kevin talked him into a favor before he went.
“You’ll not go wandering too far into the park?” Ty asked, brow cocked.
Kevin scowled at him. “I’ll wander where I want to, Tyler Murphy, and don’t forget that I taught you how to shave and endured your ridiculously bad driving at age sixteen.”
“Mom will kill me if something happens to you.”
“I had bypass surgery, son. Which means I’m not dead.” Shaking his head, though smirking at the banter, Kevin turned to walk toward the gated entrance of the park. “And besides, I get a whole new body on the other side of this life. You all are worrying too much.”
“We’d rather not rush that,” Ty called, a chuckle in his voice.
Kevin lifted a hand as he strolled down the flagstone path. After a few moments, there came the report of a door shutting on a vehicle and then the sound of Tyler’s truck revving its way onto the road.
He would have to call Jacob to come pick him up in about an hour. Hopefully, Helen wouldn’t sneak back from her errands by then, because Tyler had only been mildly exaggerating. She would not approve of Kevin slipping off like this unaccompanied.
But some things needed processed on his own.
At the curved fork on the path, Kevin took the right turn—the path less commonly chosen by most. To the left, one would find a park, in the middle of which stood a large gazebo. If he chose to inspect that structure closely, a fellow would come across a gold plate engraved withMurphy Builds, 1995.
It had been one of his first contracts, and he’d been thrilled. But that memory was not what had prompted him to visit the Sugar Pine open space.
The right-hand path came with a bit of an incline. Strange, he’d not noticed that detail on any of his other visits.
Breath puffing heavily and white before his face, and a bit lightheaded, Kevin paused at the bend in the way, which was also at the crest of that incline, and gazed at the familiar view.
Headstones poked up from the thin layer of snow on the ground, each one straight and tidy. Each one bearing the name that mattered to somebody somewhere. To Kevin, there were three in this cemetery that he visited.
Stride slow, he made his way to the first—the one that had stood in its assigned place the longest.
David Matthew Clayton 1962–1996. Son. Friend. Good and faithful servant.
Kevin’s brows pinched as the old ache resurfaced. Not as it once did—not with the roiling anger at the man who had taken his best friend’s life, at the unfairness of it. No, in fact, following George’s lead—one Kevin had a hard time wrapping his mind around—Kevin had met Aaron Knipp. Had gotten to know him as he met with him at AA meetings after Aaron had finished his jail time. And ultimately had forgiven the man. Which he well should—and it maybe shouldn’t have been so hard. After all, Kevin had been in a drunk-driving accident as well. It could have just as easily been him in Aaron’s shoes.
But a mild ache was still there. Kevin missed this friend who had become a brother to him. He also still felt deeply for George and Elizabeth.
As if on autopilot, Kevin’s feet moved, taking him to the next headstone.
George William Clayton. 1936–2008. Honored, loved, and greatly missed.
That one had also come as an unexpected blow. One night George and Elizabeth were over at the Murphys’, engaged in a lively game of dominos, and the next day Kevin had received a call from Elizabeth. George had suffered a massive heart attack. The hospital had declared him dead on arrival.
Elizabeth took it with the sort of strength and courage that made Kevin stand in awe. Some days he still couldn’t comprehend it.
Brushing the cold, smooth top of George’s headstone, he turned a forty-five-degree angle to his left and wandered four rows across, three more back.
This marker was newer, though the dirt had settled. Beneath the snow, waiting for spring’s warmer temperatures, the grass had filled in thick. And this one coiled the most pain around his heart. Because the ache was closer in time, and it had pierced him as a father. That was a unique sort of pain—something Kevin could have gone without knowing.
Sadie Allen Murphy.
One of his own. Not of his body, but by a son. A daughter-in-love who bore his name and had claimed a spot of her own in his heart. A sweet, strong young woman who had made Connor happy and had given them Reid.
