Page 75 of Delivery After Dark
He leaned on his crutches to take a drink.
“What time is Kelsey due back?”
After getting her cast off and being cleared to drive again—finally—she’d gone to see the McCarthy kids she’d cared for before being injured.
“She said she’d be home for dinner. Is it weird that I miss her like crazy even though we’ve spent twenty-four hours a day together for months?”
“Not at all, honey,” Sarah said. “That’s how it should be.”
Once upon a time, she might’ve objected to her son sharing a room with his fiancée before they were married. Now she couldn’t care less. Those two kids were obviously madly in love, and Sarah was so thankful to have Jeff home and recovering after a long stint in physical rehabilitation that having them sleep together was fine with her.
“Mom… What’re we going to do about Johnny?”
“We were just talking about that,” Sarah said with a glance at Charlie. “I told him he’s coming to dinner tonight whether he wants to or not, and we’ll try to talk to him.”
“Good,” Jeff said. “He’s been weird since we were together in Providence before you guys got back from Italy, and he won’t tell me what’s wrong.”
“He won’t tell anyone,” Sarah said. “We’re hoping to get to the bottom of it tonight.”
“That’d be good,” Jeff said, “because something’s definitely not right.”
Chapter 16
As he drove home from his job as the director of security at the Wayfarer, John Lawry was pissed off at the command performance demand his mother had levied on him. He didn’t want to deal with a family dinner and intended to blow it off. Yes, he felt guilty because she’d made his favorite meal, and he was well aware of why she’d done that.
He’d been keeping his distance from everyone lately, and of course, they’d noticed because that was how his family rolled. Usually, he didn’t mind that, but sometimes a man wanted to be left alone—and this was one of those times. As a fully grown adult, he shouldn’t have to explain himself to anyone, especially his mother, sisters and brothers, who’d been texting and calling him relentlessly, asking him what was wrong and what they could do to help.
He knew he ought to be grateful to have people in his life who cared. It was just that right now, he wished they cared a little less than they did. Was it too much to ask to be left alone? Apparently so, because it wasn’t like his mother to demand the presence of any of her children, especially since she was now happily married to Charlie and living the kind of life she deserved with a man who worshipped her.
John was glad to have one less thing to worry about. The years she’d spent alone with their father after the last of them left home had been hard on all seven of the Lawry kids. Knowing she was safe and happy was a huge load off their minds. The downside was having more mental and emotional energy to devote to his own life and the many ways he’d screwed it up lately, starting with the relationship he’d had with his ex-boss that’d blown up in his face, and now the thing he’d started with Niall that’d turned messy.
He’d known he was gay from the time he was about seven years old, and his monster of a father had tuned in to it around that same time, which had made his life a living hell as he set out to prove his father wrong about his suspicions. “No son of mine is gonna live like that,” he’d say, along with other derogatory words that’d scarred John’s soul so deeply that he couldn’t function in a healthy relationship without that son of a bitch’s voice in his head ruining everything.
He should’ve known better than to get involved with Niall, who’d been unique from the start in the way he worked his way into John’s heart and mind one casual conversation at a time. Nothing had ever been easier than it was with him, which was how it was supposed to be. At least that’s what he’d heard.
It’d been so easy that his heart was all in before his head caught up to remind him of how damaged he was by childhood trauma, by years of not being free to live his truth, by always looking over his shoulder, expecting his father to jump out of the bushes and say, “Aha! I always knew you were a fucking deviant.”
That was one of the general’s favorite words. Deviant. “I expect my kids to toe the line,” he’d say in his big, booming voice that drowned out every other sound in the house. To Johnny, he’d add, “If you think you’re going to live like some kind of deviant freak, you, my friend, are sadly mistaken.”
John used to tremble for hours after one of his father’s homophobic outbursts. One time, their father had punched Owen in the face for daring to tell him to leave Johnny alone when he’d been calling him a little wimp, which was another of the general’s favorite things to say to Johnny. Seeing Owen hurt because of him had broken Johnny more than just about anything else, because Owen was always there for all of them. He’d told Owen to never defend him again. Owen had thought John was mad, but really, he was heartbroken to see Owen, whom he loved more than almost anyone, hurt for trying to help him.
As John pulled into the driveway at the palatial home his mother shared with the amazing Charlie Grandchamp, he realized his face was wet from tears he hadn’t realized were there. He shouldn’t be surprised by them. Any time he thought about that shit from the past, his emotions overflowed, making him feel almost as helpless as he had then.
A knock on the window startled him. His former-cop sensibilities had deserted him after all this time on a small island where not much of anything happened—thankfully. He wiped his face and put down the window to talk to his stepfather.
“Are you okay?” Charlie asked.
“I guess.”
“Your mother is waiting for you.”
“I know.”
“Whatever it is, son, we’ll work it out, but you’ll never fix what’s wrong by running from it. Trust me on that.”
To his intense mortification, John broke down into sobs that came from the deepest part of him.
Charlie opened the door, reached in to release John’s seat belt and helped him out of the car and into his waiting arms. “Let it all out. It’s not healthy to keep these things bottled up.”
