Home to Harmony by Dawn Atkins

out of your eyes…” She looked out the window. She seemed more sad than pissed now.
    She believed him. Marcus had made her calm down and hear him for once.
    “What am I supposed to say to Susan now?” she said.
    “Who cares? Those people are assholes.”
    “Stop saying the A word,” she said, but she wasn’t really that upset. In fact, he figured she agreed with him.
    “I mean they spent the whole night showing off how rich they were,” David responded. “Like they needed a cook. Come on. And that golf course in the backyard? The guy’s a dill hole.”
    Marcus coughed to hide a laugh.
    “I hate that Susan and Winston think you dragged their angel boys into doing drugs. It’s not right.”
    “Who cares? You just called her self-righteous and him a drunk. Don’t be a hypocrite yourself.”
    Marcus caught his eye in the mirror, trying to remind David about keeping his mother off his back.
    He shot back a yeah, yeah look. “Anyway, I didn’t do anything wrong. I was helping my friends.” He paused. “Plus I’m almost done with English.”
    “Really? You are?” She whipped around again, all hopeful.
    “Yeah. In a couple days. Then it’s only math and history.”
    “That’s good, David. Really good.” She faced forward with a happy sigh. For now. It wouldn’t last, he knew, with sinking dread. To her he’d always be a screwup and a disappointment. The only person who understood him was Brigitte and she was slipping away. He had to get to her. And soon.

    W HEN THEY GOT BACK to Harmony House, Marcus watched David take off for his room. The kid had done a brave thing for the Barlow boys. He was making an effort with his mother, too, clearly taking Marcus’s advice. He liked David a lot. He was smart and sensitive and he had a big heart.
    Keep your distance. The warning rang like a bell in his head. Without distance, his judgment would be impaired, as it had been with Nathan. He’d reacted with his heart, not his head, hoping for the best instead of digging for the harder truth.
    He opened Christine’s car door for her. She was so pretty in the soft clingy top that dipped enough to tease the eye. “Did I do okay once I caught my breath?” she asked, looking up at him in the moonlight.
    “What do you think?” he said.
    “God. Is that a shrink trick? Turning around the question? Okay, I’ll bite. I think I did pretty good.”
    “I was watching David in the mirror when you defended him against Susan and his jaw dropped.”
    “Really?”
    “He clearly felt you were on his side there. The important thing was he felt heard. That means a lot.”
    “So I did do good. Plus, he’s finishing school stuff, too.”
    “Sounds like progress to me.”
    “It does. Yeah.” She smiled. “Whatever you said to him out in the garden did the trick, I guess. So what did you say?”
    “I told David that whatever he told me would stay between the two of us unless he wanted me to speak to you.”
    “Sure, but if there’s something bad I should know—”
    “Then I’ll ask his permission to tell you or urge him to talk to you about it himself.”
    “God. You’re so ethical.” She was pretending to be annoyed. “Do you believe him about the pot not being his?”
    “Do you?”
    She groaned. “I don’t know what to believe. I’m afraid to believe. The drugs worry me the most, you know. He promised to stop, but I don’t know if he has. Or if I should make him take a drug test or what.”
    “Drugs are part of the culture, Christine. He’ll face drug decisions the rest of his life. The best thing you can do is keep talking. Ask questions and really listen to his answers. How authoritarian or invasive you choose to be is up to you.”
    “In other words, it all depends.” She sighed.
    “I wish there were easy answers, but there never are when it counts.”
    “No kidding. No one tells you how hard parenthood will be. I never know when to push, when to trust, when to hang on, when to let go.” She shook