in the sand.”
“And Romeo?”
Matthew looked at John. “Uh, Romeo’s a big boy. He can take care of himself.”
Ingrid’s words had niggled at him for the past threedays, and now he knew why. I don’t trust Matthew —something’s not right.
After thirty years, a man should trust his wife’s sixth sense. “Matthew, I’m afraid your trip isn’t going to work for Romeo. Or us.”
Romeo rounded on him. “What?”
“Romeo, you can’t drop out of school to hang out with your brother —especially since he’s leaving in two weeks. Then what?”
“You said I’d always . . .” Romeo bit his lip.
John’s words flooded back to him. Have a place here.
John drew in a long breath. “As your legal guardian, I need to tell you that leaving is not okay. You can’t just take off —”
“Because if I do, I can’t come back, right?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You don’t have to. Listen, dude. I don’t need a father —I’ve done fine for seventeen years without one, so you can just —”
He spit out a word that should have made John wince. But he just stared at the teen, sadness sweeping through him.
It was Owen all over again. Angry, frustrated. Needing someone to step in. But Owen was twenty-one.
Romeo needed more from John than what he’d given Owen.
“You’re not going.”
“Oh yes, I am.” He dropped his hammer and stormed out of the shed.
Matthew had whisked off his hat, held it between clenched hands. “I didn’t . . . I mean . . .”
“He needs someone who is going to stick around in his life right now.”
Matthew nodded. “I get that.”
“And that’s not you, is it?”
Matthew shook his head. Sighed. “I think I’m going to get my stuff.”
“Matt —”
“No, I gotta get going anyway. The Disney thing . . . Probably that was just a dream anyway. I got buddies waiting for me in Minneapolis.”
John stilled. “Wait. You weren’t even planning on taking him to Disney World?”
Matthew made a face. “It just sort of came out, and then I was stuck in the lie, and it kept getting bigger and bigger and . . . But I was thinking about it.”
“What, were you going to sneak out in the middle of the night, not tell him —? Oh, my. You were.”
Matthew’s jaw tightened.
“I’m not sure what they’re teaching you in the military, son, but that’s not what honor is.”
“Whatever. Tell Romeo I said bye.” He brushed past John.
“Matthew, don’t you dare leave Romeo without saying good-bye yourself.”
But Matthew ignored him and headed to the house. John wanted to throw one of the mugs after him. Or worse.
Instead, he followed him inside, set the mugs and the thermos on the counter.
Ingrid looked up from where she sat, phone in her hand, the church directory open on the counter. “What happened?”
“I fixed it,” he said quietly.
Her eyes widened when she saw Matthew appear moments later, his duffel slung over his shoulder.
“Romeo,” she said, glancing at John.
Matthew said nothing as he stormed out of the house.
“Romeo!” she shouted, getting off the stool.
But by the time Romeo made it back downstairs, Matthew had pulled out. Romeo didn’t bother with shoes, just banged through the door, running out into the snow and ice in his stocking feet.
“Matthew!”
The night closed around Matthew’s red taillights.
John stood there a moment, watching as Romeo stared into the darkness. Ingrid touched his back, but he shook her away.
John went to the door. “Romeo, come inside.”
Romeo marched past him. At the foot of the stairs, he turned, glaring first at Ingrid, then at John. “You’re not my parents.”
Then he headed upstairs. Ingrid pressed a hand to her mouth.
“Yeah, I really fixed it,” John said.
I NGRID DIDN’T KNOW WHY she tried so hard when everything she did seemed to backfire. She pressed End on her cell phone and set it on the counter in the fellowship hall kitchen.
She’d
“And Romeo?”
Matthew looked at John. “Uh, Romeo’s a big boy. He can take care of himself.”
Ingrid’s words had niggled at him for the past threedays, and now he knew why. I don’t trust Matthew —something’s not right.
After thirty years, a man should trust his wife’s sixth sense. “Matthew, I’m afraid your trip isn’t going to work for Romeo. Or us.”
Romeo rounded on him. “What?”
“Romeo, you can’t drop out of school to hang out with your brother —especially since he’s leaving in two weeks. Then what?”
“You said I’d always . . .” Romeo bit his lip.
John’s words flooded back to him. Have a place here.
John drew in a long breath. “As your legal guardian, I need to tell you that leaving is not okay. You can’t just take off —”
“Because if I do, I can’t come back, right?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You don’t have to. Listen, dude. I don’t need a father —I’ve done fine for seventeen years without one, so you can just —”
He spit out a word that should have made John wince. But he just stared at the teen, sadness sweeping through him.
It was Owen all over again. Angry, frustrated. Needing someone to step in. But Owen was twenty-one.
Romeo needed more from John than what he’d given Owen.
“You’re not going.”
“Oh yes, I am.” He dropped his hammer and stormed out of the shed.
Matthew had whisked off his hat, held it between clenched hands. “I didn’t . . . I mean . . .”
“He needs someone who is going to stick around in his life right now.”
Matthew nodded. “I get that.”
“And that’s not you, is it?”
Matthew shook his head. Sighed. “I think I’m going to get my stuff.”
“Matt —”
“No, I gotta get going anyway. The Disney thing . . . Probably that was just a dream anyway. I got buddies waiting for me in Minneapolis.”
John stilled. “Wait. You weren’t even planning on taking him to Disney World?”
Matthew made a face. “It just sort of came out, and then I was stuck in the lie, and it kept getting bigger and bigger and . . . But I was thinking about it.”
“What, were you going to sneak out in the middle of the night, not tell him —? Oh, my. You were.”
Matthew’s jaw tightened.
“I’m not sure what they’re teaching you in the military, son, but that’s not what honor is.”
“Whatever. Tell Romeo I said bye.” He brushed past John.
“Matthew, don’t you dare leave Romeo without saying good-bye yourself.”
But Matthew ignored him and headed to the house. John wanted to throw one of the mugs after him. Or worse.
Instead, he followed him inside, set the mugs and the thermos on the counter.
Ingrid looked up from where she sat, phone in her hand, the church directory open on the counter. “What happened?”
“I fixed it,” he said quietly.
Her eyes widened when she saw Matthew appear moments later, his duffel slung over his shoulder.
“Romeo,” she said, glancing at John.
Matthew said nothing as he stormed out of the house.
“Romeo!” she shouted, getting off the stool.
But by the time Romeo made it back downstairs, Matthew had pulled out. Romeo didn’t bother with shoes, just banged through the door, running out into the snow and ice in his stocking feet.
“Matthew!”
The night closed around Matthew’s red taillights.
John stood there a moment, watching as Romeo stared into the darkness. Ingrid touched his back, but he shook her away.
John went to the door. “Romeo, come inside.”
Romeo marched past him. At the foot of the stairs, he turned, glaring first at Ingrid, then at John. “You’re not my parents.”
Then he headed upstairs. Ingrid pressed a hand to her mouth.
“Yeah, I really fixed it,” John said.
I NGRID DIDN’T KNOW WHY she tried so hard when everything she did seemed to backfire. She pressed End on her cell phone and set it on the counter in the fellowship hall kitchen.
She’d
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