Page 20 of Rex's Honor
“You didn’t know that?” Tilly questioned.
“There are many things I don’t know,” he admitted, his insides fluttering like a dog’s tail. “I know this is no excuse, but my life in the Air Force was filled with more deployments than being Stateside. Even after I left the military, this organization I joined, the Aegis Network, has me traveling a lot. And then there is my work as a firefighter. I don’t have much downtime.”
“So we’ve been told.” His father’s voice boomed with pride once again.
Rex snapped his head, catching his father’s gaze. Rex expected a lecture on how easy it was in today’s age to maintain contact, not genuine delight from a man who seemed to relish in his son’s accomplishments, even if from a distance.
“Why don’t I go see how Louisa is doing?” Judy pushed open the limo door. “Should I prepare her for Rex’s visit?”
“No,” his father said, maintaining eye contact with Rex. “I’d like it if you told her you came to see her on your own. You can tell her I sent Tilly to talk you into it if you want, since we’ve had that conversation. But remember, when someone knows the end is near, they look back over their lives and all the regrets and pain that come with it, and it haunts their existence.” He leaned over, putting a strong hand on Rex’s knee. “What she did was wrong, and it hurt us all. This is no excuse, but our marriage had been over for years. We stayed together for you kids. Maybe that was a big mistake.”
Rex couldn’t stand to listen to reason for a second longer. “I’m here. Let’s just leave it at that.” As he stepped from the limo, the warm sun hit his face. Golf carts rolled across the cart path. The sound of an iron hitting a ball played like music in his ears. He ducked his head back into the limo. “What are the chances I could get a round of golf in after I visit with Mom?”
“I’ll set it up,” his father said.
“Thanks.” He turned and faced old man Walker’s house, which was now his mother’s house. “Well, here goes nothing.”
He stuffed his hands in his pockets and stood at the front door. Did he knock? Ring the doorbell? Walk in? Thankfully, he didn’t have to make that decision as Judy appeared and opened the front door.
“She’s awake and knows something is up, but I doubt she knows you’re here.” Judy placed her hand on his shoulder. “She’s been hopeful that you would come home, but she alsounderstands why you wouldn’t. She doesn’t blame you. Only herself.”
That damn near broke his heart. “Can I ask you a question?” He actually had a million of them, but he wasn’t sure half mattered anymore.
“What is it?” Judy stepped back, waving a hand into a sitting room to the right of the foyer. He recognized the white sofa from Tilly’s parents’ house, but only because they’d had sex on it once.
Or twice.
Pictures of both families lined the floor-to-ceiling bookcases. It was strange to see his family portrait, with both his parents in it, displayed next to one of Tilly’s with all of her siblings and parents.
“If you’ve more than one, why don’t we sit.”
He shook his head, reaching for the frame with a dozen small pictures of him and Tilly growing up as kids.
“Your mother has a collection of picture frames like that one throughout the house. She’s still holding out for a reunion with the two of you.”
Maybe he should tell his mother that his love for Tilly would be forever tainted because of her actions, and they’d get back together when hell froze over.
God, he was a mess. One minute he wanted nothing more than to be with Tilly. The next he just wanted to continue to hurt everyone.
Mostly himself.
Living a tormented life had become the only way he knew how to survive.
Being in this house, surrounded by images of family and love, made him want to run and scream naked through the neighborhood like a crazy person. But the worst part was that he was a grown man, not a child, and he had no right to begrudge his parents' happiness or to judge their decisions.
And none of it had to do with giving his mother some peace before she passed.
“I hope you don’t mind if I’m blunt,” he said.
“I’m your mother’s primary caregiver, I’m used to blunt.”
He let out a short laugh. “How do you do it? I mean, taking care of your husband’s ex-wife. That’s got to be hard.”
“It might have been if I knew them during the divorce, but I didn’t. I only saw two people who stopped loving each other but never stopped loving their kids.” Judy ran her fingers across an old Victorian desk. “Your parents have become friends. Close friends. I’d be a bitch if I stood between two people who have shared so much joy and heartache.” She closed the gap, reaching out and curling her fingers around his biceps. “They became close over their shared grief of hurting and losing you. Your father believes he was just as much at fault for that as your mother. They both love you very much, but they are about as stubborn as a baby that is unwilling to walk.”
“That’s a family trait.”
“Anything else?”
