Kept (25 page)

“Don’t go, man.”

“I can’t stay.” He faced Garrett. “Not with her next door. Not with Tracy bringing her over and including her every time I turn around.”

“That won’t happen.”

“Where have you been for the last month?”

Garrett stared at his feet. “Tracy won’t be bringing her here anymore.”

“So you already told her what happened. Awesome. Thanks.”

“No.” He straightened and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Tracy called off the wedding.”

What?
He stared at his brother. Just the night before, he’d seen them leaving the singles’ group, laughing over something. “What happened?”

“She found out I was…” He shuffled his feet, rubbed his jaw line. “I was seeing Adrienne.”

Dillan’s eyes closed.
Aw, Garrett.
Suddenly he felt so tired and sick of it all. He sat on his bed, beside the suitcase, and propped his elbows on his knees, rested his head on his good hand. What a mess. And not just Garrett.

He was a mess too.

Garrett coughed. “Stay, man. I don’t—” He cleared his throat. “I don’t want to live alone right now.”

Dillan doubled over, rubbed the back of his neck. He wanted to leave. Run. He had to leave, didn’t he? He was weak. He couldn’t stay.

But Garrett… Dillan wouldn’t want to be alone either. Together the two of them could be tough. For a while. Then Garrett would be better and he’d have figured out another place to live.

Aching, he raised his head, stared at his open closet. “I’ll stay.”

“Thanks.” Garrett pushed off from the doorjamb.

“Gare.”

His brother looked back, eyebrows raised.

“I’m sorry.”

Garrett quirked a shaky smile. “My fault.”

Dillan watched him go. There’d been more to his “I’m sorry” than he’d been able to say, but Garrett hadn’t caught it.

Later.

He set the books back on his nightstand. His Bible lay on top, and he flipped through it, the words merging in a smeared, unreadable line.

How had this happened?

He sniffed, blinked a few times. His Bible lay open to 1 Corinthians. He scanned the pages, reading here and there until a familiar phrase stopped him.

Such were some of you.

He backed up to the beginning of the chapter and began to read. Every single word.

Her father’s story was heartbreaking, though he tried to shrug away his abusive childhood as if it weren’t that big a deal.

Curled up on her couch, Miska hurt for him. “I’m so sorry, Dad.”

He held out his hands. “What are you going to do? Can’t change it. Can’t stop it. I guess we learn and go on.” He rested an ankle on his knee and fiddled with his loafers. “Can I tell you something? Something you probably won’t like?”

“Why would you do that?”

“Something you said the other day… I think it might give you hope.”

“Even though I won’t like it.”

“You don’t have to hear it if you don’t want to.”

Man, he was good at the guilt trip. “By all means, go ahead.”

He scooted to the edge of his seat. “I helped one woman raise a child.”

“You raised one of your kids?”

“No. Jake wasn’t mine.”

“Jake, huh?” Some kid who didn’t share a drop of DNA had gotten his time while those who could donate an organ had not? “How long were you with his mom?”

“Until she died. Jake was fourteen when I met her. His dad was like my dad, cruel and evil when drunk—which he was a lot. We were together two years when she found out she had cancer. She died six months before Jake turned eighteen. She named me as his guardian and made me promise to raise him until he was of age.”

“You were a single father.”

He chuckled. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“How is Jake now?”

“He’s good. Just graduated from college. I went to his graduation.”

Of course he did. “You’re right. I don’t like that some guy had four years with you, years he remembers. How is this supposed to help?”

“Remember what you said about your nephew, that you wished some good man would step in and be his dad?”

“Yes?”

“Well.” He spread his hands. “I checked on him.”

“You’ve seen Liam? How is he?” Almost five years had passed since she’d held his tiny body, four and a half years since she’d seen him rocking back and forth on hands and knees. After Zane and Lacey split, Lacey had cut the whole family off. They’d been—no,
she’d
been too wrapped up in her mom’s final days to protest.

“Liam’s fine. Tall. Looks like your mom. Better than that, he has a good dad.”

“Lacey’s re-married?”

“A year ago. Good guy. Loves Lacey, loves Liam like he’s his own.”

“Hates Zane.”

He grinned. “We didn’t go there.”

She laughed. “How astute you are.”

“Yeah. So it seems your prayer has been answered. Liam will be okay.”

“I’m glad to hear that, but I didn’t pray for him.”

“Then your prayer was answered before you even prayed it.”

What did he mean? “Do you believe in prayer?”

“Sometimes. I’ve prayed for things to happen, and they’ve happened. Other times I’ve prayed for things and—nothing.”

“Which proves it isn’t real.”

“I don’t think so. I mean, what is God? A genie? That’s a slave, not a god.”

Her heart beat faster. “Dad.” She slid to the edge of her seat. “Do you believe in God?”

He looked out the window. “I think so. I look at people, and I’m pretty sure there has to be someone.”

The possibility of a god out there, a god beyond her world, made her shiver. But if he
were
real, wouldn’t it be best to find out? To know what he wanted?

How did she do that?

Her phone rang. The screen showed Tracy’s picture. “You mind if I take this?”

“Go ahead. I need to leave anyway.”

“Okay.” She answered the call. “Tracy, can you hang on a sec?”

“Sure.”

She pressed the phone to her shoulder.

Dad picked up the messenger bag he carried everywhere. “Thanks for lunch.”

“Thanks for coming over.”

He kissed her temple and left.

After the door shut, she raised the phone to her ear. “Tracy? Sorry. My dad was just leaving.”

“I didn’t mean to chase him away.”

“You didn’t. What’s up?”

“I should have called earlier. Now you’re working and—”

“Don’t worry about my schedule. I can edit later.”

“Really? I was praying you’d say that. Can I come over?”

Tracy had prayed she’d be free? If God were real, then he’d just listened to Tracy, had just said yes to what she’d prayed.

What had she been thinking before Tracy called? Wondering how she could know if there was a God, if he were real.

“Miska? I don’t have to come over now—”

“No, you do.” She relaxed her grip on the phone. “Now is perfect.”

“I’ll be there in ten.”

Tracy settled onto Miska’s couch. “It doesn’t look like you’ve heard.”

Miska set her glass on a coaster. “Heard what?”

“That Garrett and I broke up.”

Miska’s mouth fell open. She grabbed Tracy’s hand. “Oh, Tracy. No! I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right. I did the breaking up.”

Why? “Are you okay?”

The question filled Tracy’s eyes, and Miska ran to the kitchen for a Kleenex box. When she returned, Tracy was wiping beneath her eyes, blinking rapidly. She grabbed a tissue and dabbed at them. “I can’t believe there are still tears.”

“We’re women. There are
always
tears.”

Tracy laughed, a sniffle interrupting it. “Sadly, that’s true.” She folded the Kleenex, sniffed, and squared her shoulders. “Okay. Garrett’s been seeing Adrienne.”

“What?” Miska rose up on her knees. “Adrienne? My sister?”

“Yep.”

If Adrienne was involved, then— “By seeing, you mean…”

“Oh, yes.” Tracy looked out the window. “You got it.”

How could Adrienne have done this? “Tracy, I am so, so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. I knew you’d have said something if you knew.”

She was definitely going to say something. “How did this happen? When?”

“All those evenings he had to work? Came home for dinner, then got called in?”

All those nights she and Tracy had spent together, becoming friends, her sister and best friend had been destroying the couple. Miska pictured Adrienne hunched over her phone, texting someone, then telling Miska she had a date. All that time…

“Remember the night my car had a flat?”

“He stayed with Adrienne.”

“He did.”

Miska sagged against the cushions. “I don’t understand it. Adrienne hates men. She’s not the kind of girl a guy brings home. Why would he do this with her?”

Tracy looked down.

Was it because they were waiting? Was that what she was going to say? That if she could do it over, she wouldn’t make Garrett wait?

Don’t say it
. Tracy was right; Dillan was right. They
had
to wait.

The really good men did.

“You asked me once what Garrett’s past was. If you knew, it would make sense.”

“What
is
his past?’

Tracy rubbed her forehead. “I’m so mad at him, I don’t even care. He was in a sex club in law school. A couple underage girls got in and cried rape. It was big news out there. Garrett was just fortunate that he’d never… been with them. But a couple friends were arrested. It shook him up. Made him think. Or so he said.”

If that’s how he was, Garrett and Adrienne were a better match than she’d thought.

But what about the night Miska’d propositioned him, the night he’d been a perfect gentleman? “I don’t—I don’t get it.”

Tracy grabbed another Kleenex and blew her nose. “Don’t get what?”

“You were three months from getting married. How could he throw that away?”

“If not Adrienne, it would’ve been someone else.”

“How do you know?”

“There’ve been warning signs. He’s been—he’s not the man I met.” Tracy grabbed another tissue.

It popped out of the box, leaving an empty hole.

She leaned over the box and peered inside. “Really, Miska? Three Kleenex? Three?”

Miska stifled a giggle. Tracy met her gaze. Her lips tightened, and she burst into laughter. Miska’s own laughter erupted, and they doubled over, laughing until they hurt.

By the time they calmed, tears streamed down their faces. Miska found another Kleenex box, and Tracy made a show of pulling out the first three tissues, finding a fourth, and nodding in satisfaction. The laughter began again.

“My stomach.” Tracy wrapped an arm across her middle. “Between crying and laughing, there’d be room to spare in my wedding dress.”

The comment killed Miska’s giggles. “How did you find out?”

“I had yesterday off. “ Tracy set the Kleenex aside. “I decided to surprise Garrett for lunch since we never get to do that. So I went to his building and waited in the lobby. I heard his laugh and looked up, and there he and Adrienne were, coming out of the elevator.” She sniffed. “He had his arm around her, and they were rushing, like they were in a hurry.”

They probably were.

“By the time I got outside, they were getting in a cab.”

“Where’d they go?”

“A hotel. Honestly, I’m surprised the driver didn’t get in an accident.”

Miska closed her eyes.
Adrienne…

“I spent the afternoon cancelling everything but the church because that would get back to Dillan before I could get to Garrett.”

“Good thinking.”

“I went to his building and waited until he left work. And you know what got me?” She sat up, her finger pointing. “He walked right up to me, that stupid smile on his face, and tried to give me a hug.”

“I wish I could have seen you light into him.”

“Oh, I did. I’m not necessarily proud of it now, but I let him have it, right there in the lobby.” She flopped backward. “It was horrible.”

Miska shook her head. Adrienne had messed with relationships before, but she’d never done it to one of her friends. “Wait until I get a hold of her.”

Tracy shrugged. “He was ready for some woman, any woman. I see it now. I don’t completely blame Adrienne. It’s not like she forced him.”

Still.

“When I met Garrett, he was only months removed from the club, from seeing his friends arrested. He was quiet, serious.” Her smile gave away the ache she felt. “He was where I’d been, way back in high school. I hurt for him.”

“You wanted to fix him.”

“Maybe. I knew how different my life was. I wanted it for him, but now I wonder if he’s just like he used to be, you know? Over the last few months—since we got engaged really—he’s been changing.”

“How?”

“Comments he makes, innuendos, jokes. Trying to go farther than we’d agreed to.”

Wasn’t that how guys were?

Not Dillan.

She thought back to his kiss, to the way he’d seemed to pray for help right before he left, seconds after she’d been so sure she’d be his first.

Oh, God. Help.

Dillan never said God’s name like that. Never. His words were a prayer—and his prayer had worked.

Did that mean Garrett hadn’t prayed? Or that if he had, he and Tracy would still be together? That didn’t seem fair.

But then there was Tracy’s prayer that Miska would be free—right when Miska wondered about God. “Tracy, do you believe in prayer?”

“Yes. Why?”

“How does it work? Or does it work?”

“No, it works.” Tracy tore the corner of her tissue. “Miska, God is my heavenly father—a perfect father—and prayer is how I communicate with him. So every time I pray to him, talk to him really, I know that the answer he gives will be what’s best for me.”

“Okay, but how do you get what you want?”

“Prayer isn’t about what I want.”

“But you prayed that I’d be free today. And the other day Dillan prayed—” She squeezed her hands together. Couldn’t go there.

“Dillan prayed what?”

“He prayed for something, and it happened. Right away.”

Tracy raised her eyebrows.

“I know. I didn’t catch it until today—I didn’t realize he was praying. He just… said something.”

“Here’s how it works.” Tracy’s eyes, dry and clear, focused on her. “When we pray about something, God says one of three things—yes, no, or wait.”