Page 93 of Redemption
“Because it still hurts. Every day, it still hurts.”
Her lips tilt up. They are a little wobbly, but still, she offers me a sad smile. “That doesn’t mean you haven’t healed. You came back to Benton Falls, didn’t you? I don’t think that could have happened if you hadn’t healed at least some.”
My eyes dart over her shoulder, avoiding her again. “There are a lot of reasons I came back home, and I can’t say any of them were good.”
“Maybe so, but nevertheless, you came back. You are so brave, Mallorie Jade. Braver than you realize. I don’t think I have to worry about you. You will find your way—now, my son, on the other hand, I’m not so sure about him.”
She drops her hands from my face and turns back to the sink.
I don’t turn from where I am, taking in her side profile. In all the years I’ve known Madeline, I’ve never seen her look like this. Gone is the woman who offered me comfort moments ago, and in her place stands a worried mother. There’s raw pain on her face as she brushes the back of her hands, still covered in suds, against her cheeks. I’m looking at the woman my mother should have been before Langston died, and I can’t help but wonder ifLangston would be alive if either of my parents had bothered to care then as much as Madeline does for Hayes.
My chest hitches as the rest of me goes numb.
“Why are you worried about Hayes?”
She scrubs harder at the plate that’s already sparkling, and there’s a catch in her voice when she says, “Because he’s lost, and I don’t know how to lead him home.”
I lay my hand gently on her forearm, causing her to pause.
“What do you mean?”
Puffing, she blows her hair out of her face and then places the plate on the counter for me to dry. I take it as a hint that she needs to continue moving to have this conversation, so I pick it up and start drying again.
“Hayes has been different since Langston died and you left.” She stops, looking at me when I flinch. “Not that I’m blaming you for that. It’s like he thinks he needs to atone for something, and I can’t understand what. I can understand that grief comes differently for everyone, but Langston’s death was an accident. Nothing else.”
My blood freezes.
If only that were true.
Hayes and I both took Langston’s death on our shoulders. Maybe we weren’t driving the car, but we should have been—and that causes enough guilt to last a lifetime.
I keep still, though, not expressing that thought to Madeline because the truth lies between Hayes and me.
“Anyway,” she continues, “After he came home from college and quit football, he was lost. He jumped on into the position at the station, and at first, I’d hoped it was because he was starting to heal, but I quickly realized it was his way of assuaging that guilt on his shoulders. He does it because he gets to help people—people like Langston—but he’s also stuck in that moment, constantly reliving it. I don’t think he will ever let go of this guilt.Do you know how hard it is for a mother to watch her son believe that he isn’t even worthy of God’s love?”
I shake my head.
“No, ma’am, I don’t.” I try to hide the hitch in my voice because this grief is not mine to hold, not when I helped contribute to it. I shouldn’t have left. I should have made sure that Hayes wasn’t falling into the same pit that I was, but would I have been able to change it if I had stayed when I was barely surviving myself?
“It’s one of the hardest trials I’ve been through as a mother, but—” she pauses, turning her head to look at me, a gleam hiding behind the tears in her eyes, “maybe he’s starting to find his way home. I hope you both are.”
A knock on the kitchen wall interrupts us before I can ask her what she means by that because I am home, however reluctantly.
Evan pokes his head in the doorway, a grin on his face. “My lady, shall I take you home?”
Madeline drains the water left in the sink, drying her hands on the towel I’m holding, and kisses my cheek. “Sometimes home is not always what we expect.”
Then she’s walking toward Evan. He meets her halfway, taking her hand and spinning her in a circle before dipping her low to the floor.
Her laugh is such a sharp contrast to the tears she had just moments ago. There’s a pull in my chest that feels a lot like envy. I want someone like that—someone who can fill my gray with color—and when Hayes appears in the doorway, leaning his shoulder against the wall with a backward ball cap on his head and a smile on his face, I fear I’ve already found him.
Chapter 28
Hayes
20 Years Old
Langston is drunk again.
