In Your Honor (36 page)

Blake didn't have a response. He had never
questioned how it was possible for his mama to take care of
everything. All he had noticed was that she was alone and she cried
a lot. And that had left him angry at his father. But if he stood
back and looked at things logically, everything Triny said made
sense.

“
When was the last time
you went to see him?” Triny suddenly asked.

“
I haven't,” Blake said
flatly. “Not since the funeral.”

Triny pursed his lips, having expected that
answer. He clapped him on the shoulder roughly. “Then I think you
know where you need to go next.”

Blake watched his back as he entered the
house and the screen door slammed behind him. He felt his jaw
working and he growled as he swung his leg over the seat of the
Harley and brought it to life.

He let out the throttle when he hit the
paved road and sped across the countryside. He didn't want to go to
the cemetery. It wouldn't help him at all. The man was long dead.
He wouldn't know and he wouldn't care if Blake went or not.

But isn't this the real reason why he had
come home? The Lucy stuff was obvious, he needed to deal with his
failures with regard to her and the life they had almost had. But
wasn't his underlying fear of ending up like his father the driving
force behind everything?

He had been so afraid of Lucy winding up
like his mama, sad and alone, that he left before giving it a
chance. He had run away. Avoided the future.

And now he had more information. Things he
hadn't been told, or maybe he hadn't wanted to hear it. Maybe it
had been in front of him the whole time and he was hell-bent on
being irrationally pissed off.

His dad hadn't run away. He'd stuck around
and made sure his wife and child were taken care of even in the
aftermath of his death. His dad had sacrificed all the things he
loved in his life to make sure he and his mama were going to be
okay. And all Blake had done was curse him for making her cry. But
his dad had stood his ground, doing the right thing, even when that
stand eventually killed him.

Blake wasn't any kind of a man at all.

But his dad was. His dad was the best kind
of man there could be.

He circled the cemetery three times before
turning into the gate. Each time, he drove slower and slower. He
finally parked the bike and started the long trudge to the
headstone he hadn't visited since it had been placed.

The walk did nothing to calm his nerves. He
couldn't figure out why he was feeling anxious. It's not like
anyone would be waiting for him.

But then the headstone came into view. With
his daddy's name on it.

Henry Blake Diedrich.

Husband, Father, Friend.

Time seemed to slow down as Blake approached
the simple piece of granite that lay embedded in the ground. He
stared at it, unmoving, focused on his breathing. In and out.

Of all the places he'd been in town this
week, this spot was the heaviest. The darkest. The most raw.

In and out.

He sank to his knees and reached out with
shaky fingers, tracing the letters of the name he shared with the
man who had given everything so he could be here.

In. And out.

“
Hey, daddy,” he spoke out
loud. He didn't know why, he always thought it was stupid when
people talked to grave markers. The person was obviously not
there.

“
I'm sorry I haven't been
around.” He rolled his eyes at his own absurdity. He swallowed and
thought back to the last time they had spoken.

“
Remember, you told me
that we were going fishing that weekend. You had me pack the tackle
box for the first time... I was excited to show you... I did it
right. I followed all the instructions you left... it was gonna be
so fun... just us guys.”

He frowned at the tears that splattered on
the headstone. He tried to wipe the tracks off his face, but fresh
ones took their place.

“
I haven't done a very
good job, daddy,” he confessed abruptly, his voice a mixture of
harsh reality and aching regret. “I haven't been like you. I
haven't done anything to be proud of. I just keep running away.” He
closed his eyes in shame. “Always running.”

He rubbed at his eye sockets angrily, trying
to stop the flood that poured forth. It seemed his breakdown at
Lucy's grandparent's house had caused irreparable damage to the dam
he'd erected to hold back his deep sorrow.

“
Remember when Lucy's mama
died and you told me that I had to watch out for her from now on?”
He swallowed hard and grimaced. “I tried, I really did. But I gave
up. It got too hard.” He grit his teeth together and lashed out
bitterly, “You weren't here to set me straight. I
needed
you, daddy...” He
choked, trying to suck air into his aching lungs. “I still need
you...”

The years that he'd wasted caught up to him
and he shouted, “I don't know how to fix it!”

He bent his head and covered it with both of
his hands, trying to control the sobs that racked his frame to no
avail. “I can't seem to get it right... I'm so sorry I let you
down...”

This was so much more than what he had done
confronting his failures at the house the other night. This was the
culmination of what he had become as a human being. And he was a
shattered mess of a person.

“
I'M SORRY!” he screamed
so loudly that his body shook and his vocal chords felt ripped
open. He sucked more air in, hard and fast, wanting this feeling to
end, to come to a conclusion of some kind.

“
I don't know what to do!
What am I supposed to do?
How do I fix
it?!
” He was gutted, his insides felt
completely exposed, raw. He slapped his palms down on the stone and
stared at the name as if it would give him some kind of
answer.

“
What do I do, daddy?” he
whispered desperately. “Where do I go from here?”

The weight of everything pressing down on
him became unbearable and his arms gave out. He collapsed in a
heap, fighting, struggling to breathe. His sobs were a cross
between anguish and desperation. What he wouldn't give to have
another shot. To redo the whole thing. But that wasn't possible.
And the reality of that fact caused something inside to break and
shatter, the shards piercing his very soul and wringing out the
last of his misery in violent silence with no voice left to cry
out.

***

He wasn't sure how long he lay there across
his father's grave. Could have been hours. As the sun began to set,
he pushed his back against a nearby tree and stared at the spot
where his father's final resting place was. No one had answered his
questions. No voice had come from beyond to give instruction. But
something had changed.

An unusual peace settled over him. A clarity
that he never remembered having. Crystal and serene. Brand new,
like spring rain.

Forgiveness was a sticky thing. Hard to ask
for and hard to accept. But that was nothing compared to the
freedom it brought.

“
Thank you,” he whispered
into the dusk, his bruised and torn vocal chords causing him to
wince at their use. His chest finally released of the too-heavy
burden that he had carried for far too long.

He had fallen apart in a way he never
thought he was capable of. In a way he thought that it would
destroy him, and maybe it had. But somewhere, in the middle of it,
he started to be reassembled. He wasn't 'fixed' per se, but he was
new.

Oh yes, he was definitely new.

He stood, hoping to make it home before
dinner, when another headstone caught his eye a few paces over.

Abigail Lucille Newton.

Beloved Wife and Mother.

He stooped at the grave, a sad smile on his
lips.

He remembered the day of the funeral. Triny
had played guitar and Lucy had sung “Sunshine On My Shoulders.” She
had only been seven when she lost her mama. She'd been sick for
awhile. The time had come too soon, but it was prepared for. Lucy's
mama had made sure there weren't any loose ends.

“
Hey, Miss Abigail,” he
whispered softly. The setting sun peeking through the trees
alighted on the grave marker and he laid a hand on it, touching the
name gently. “I know I haven't been around a lot... I'm sorry. You
should see your girl... she looks just like you... and sings like
an angel.” He recalled that she had given him specific instructions
the week before she passed.

“
I know it's taken me a
long time, but I'm gonna keep my promise. I'll make sure she's
safe.”

Blake stood again, a little straighter this
time. More determination in his steps. A brightness in his
thoughts, a lucidity that was fresh and welcome.

Overall, today had been a good day.

***

Blake loaded his suitcase in the rental and
turned to hug his mama goodbye. “I'll be back for Thanksgiving,” he
promised.

“
You don't have to do
that,” she said, her emerald eyes already watery as he hugged her
tight.

“
I know, Mama. I
want
to do that.” He
looked around the neighborhood. “I'll be back a lot more often.
This is home, after all.”

“
What are you goin' to do
'bout Lucy?” she asked softly.

Blake smiled. That question didn't hurt like
it had so many times before. “I'm gonna make sure she's happy.”

“
You're the spittin' image
of your daddy, you know that?” She looked proud, and he couldn't
hold back his grin.

“
Thank you, Mama.” He
hugged her one more time and then got in the car.

He had come clean with Mama the night he got
home from the cemetery. He told her everything: the drinking, the
anger, the avoidance. He showed her the tattoo he'd gotten with
Lucky's name in it. He told her about the night he left town and
all the things he'd done to wreck the best thing in his life. She
was disappointed, as he expected, but she handled it like a
pro.

He told her about the house and the diner,
and they made a plan to handle it. He would transfer ownership to
Triny, and when Triny passed, it would go to Lucy. But there really
wasn't a need to tell Lucy about it now. She'd find out when the
time was right.

Blake finally felt finished. Accomplished.
More than that though, he felt like he had something to offer.

He was looking forward to rejoining the band
in San Diego. He really loved his job. The music had been his
therapy and his escape, but now it could be his passion.

He was also looking forward to seeing Lucy
again.

He had come to some hard realizations this
week, but he didn't get the conclusions he had expected. He had
thought he'd find out that he didn't love her at all and he'd be
able to finally let her go. But that wasn't the case. He loved her
more than his life. And he was going to do anything and everything
in his power to make sure she had the best life possible. Even
though it wasn't going to be with him. He wasn't going to take a
passive approach to it anymore. She was his best friend and he
wasn't going to leave her life ever again.

***

“
How was everything?” Sway asked as
Blake stretched out on the couch in the lounge. It felt good to be
back on the bus. Like adventures were afoot.

“
It was good.” Blake kicked his shoes
off and laced his fingers behind his head. “How come we can't stay
in a hotel tonight? Why are we on the bus?”

“
Geez, your accent gets thick when you
go home for a visit,” Sway observed. “Um, we're staying on the bus
because someone forgot to make reservations and the city's booked
solid.”

“
It's not my fault. I did make
reservations...” Harrison argued. “I just made them for the wrong
weekend.”

“
Yeah, 'cause you're avoiding your
fangirls,” Mike chuckled loosely from the kitchenette.

“
I refuse to acknowledge that
insinuation,” Harrison hedged, causing Mike and Sway to bark with
laughter.

“
Doesn't matter,” Blake reassured
them. “I've missed the bus.”

“
Are you high?” Sway looked at him
critically. “I mean... are you?”

Blake let out a burst of laughter. “No! Why
do you think that?”

“
You're usually not so... agreeable,”
Sway said, watching him closely.

“
People can change, Sway.” Blake
closed his eyes, a small smile on his lips. People could definitely
change. And it felt good, too.

“
What the hell happened in Oklahoma?”
Sway demanded earnestly.

Blake looked around the room at the
wondering eyes and he sighed. “I figured some things out. Promises
are just words, anyone can make them. The action of that promise is
what matters.”

“
Shit. You went philosophical on us,
didn't you? Please tell me you didn't join a cult.”

Blake threw a nearby pillow at Sway, who
caught it, laughing.

“
What does this mean for you and
Lucy?” Mike asked seriously as he took a seat across from
Blake.

“
Mostly that we're friends and we're
always gonna be friends. I've just been doing the worst job at
it.”

Mike studied him, evaluating his words and
his demeanor. Finally, he nodded in understanding. “I get it.”

“
I knew you would.” Blake gave his
drummer a crooked smile. This is why he was always gonna be friends
with these guys. They were brothers. And sometimes explanations
weren't necessary.

“
I'm glad to hear that.” Mike leaned
forward in his chair and Blake sensed that he had something to tell
him. He lifted one eyebrow as the drummer continued. “I, kinda,
sorta, asked if I could be in Lucy's band.”