Page 51 of Wishes on Wildflowers
Alex snarled something under his breath and turned away, looking like the embodiment of a tornado.
Nathan took a deep breath. “What was his blood alcohol concentration?”
Jasmine focused on him for the first time, but if he hoped she’d come to him for comfort, he was mistaken. “Point one nine.”
“And the legal limit is…?” asked Peter.
Nathan knew the answer to this one. “Point zero eight.”
Peter let out a low whistle. “So, he was more than double.”
Jasmine’s gaze narrowed at Nathan, her knuckles whitening against the dark strap of her helmet. “Common knowledge where you’re from?”
He should never have provided the information. This wasn’t the time or the place to go into the details of his past. Nathan shrugged one shoulder.Don’t push, Jasmine. Not now.
Her eyes narrowed. “Not common among those who don’t have a drinking problem, I don’t think. I certainly never knew the number until an hour ago. If they taught us in life skills class, I didn’t remember it.”
Nathan tried to look away, but her gaze gripped his.
“Experience, Nathan?”
“Uh…”
Her eyebrows rose.
“I don’t drink anymore. You know that.”
“But you did. Have you ever been charged with driving under the influence?”
He cast a fleeting glance first at Peter then at Alex, but both were watching him. No hope of a change of subject. Maybe a phone would ring? Could happen. There were four of them in the room.
Silence.
“Nathan?”
Please, Lord. Let her understand that was the old Nathan. Old things have passed away. All things have become new.
He drew in a long breath. “Yes, I have.”
She twisted away and slammed her helmet against the counter. “Of course you have.”
At that, his ire rose. “What was that supposed to mean?” He placed both hands on the table and began to rise, but Peter’s hand on his arm held him back.
Alex’s voice was crisp. “Jail time?”
Jasmine’s back stiffened. Peter’s hand fell away.
This wasn’t a man asking so he’d know what to expect for his brother. This was a man who wanted to protect his sister.
Nathan closed his eyes for a second, breathing a prayer,then focused again on Alex. “Yes.”
The younger man’s eyebrows rose and his eyes drilled into Nathan. Alex could have become an attorney like Evan aspired to. “How long was your sentence?”
“Three months.”
“You spent three months in jail.”
“Yes.” And when he’d been released, Kendra had offered him a few boxes of his stuff she’d claimed before the eviction and walked out of his life, leaving him homeless and alone.
