Trust in Me by Kathryn Shay Page B

A lock of dark hair fell onto his forehead, shading what, up close, Joe could see as the Murphy blue/gray eyes.
    Again Linc intervened. “How about the time you and your three buddies went to the gorge by yourselves and Johnny fell and got hurt? Remember how your mom let you see those guys only at your house under her supervision for a few weeks?”
    His face flushed, Matt nodded.
    “Well, that’s kind of what we’re doing with your father.”
    Mutiny surfaced, a tangible presence in the room. “What’d you do that you gotta be watched?”
    Joe forced himself to remain calm. Worry about what the kid had witnessed and absorbed had plagued him for years.
    Annie stepped in. “I told you, honey, it’s personal between me and your father. There are some things that you don’t need to know. At least not yet.”
    “I’m not a baby, Mom.”
    “I know. Still, this is what we think is the best.”
    Joe said, “Matt, maybe after we get to know each other again, everybody will feel more comfortable with what’s happening here. Then we can talk about what I’ve done, if it seems appropriate.”
    The rest of the allotted hour was a dream come true for Joe, and he reveled in hearing about his children’s lives. Faith’s words bubbled out of her like a storybook happy child, while Matt’s came in halting preteen sentences tinged with wariness. The time flew by and Joe was sorry to see it end.
    o0o
    THE next afternoon, Joe locked the door to his new apartment and shuffled down the steep flight of stairs. After looking around town the weekend before, he’d picked this place for the quiet—it was over a small mom-and-pop bakery, open only from six to ten A.M. Though the rooms were a far cry from the apartment he’d sublet to Taylor in the city, they were surprisingly spacious and airy. He’d purchased just a bed and dresser, but the place suited his needs—to be in town, near the house that Annie had bought, and close to his job. It was also in good proximity to Linc’s church and Beth’s diner, where he was headed now, at three P.M. on Wednesday, to meet with Ron Donovan. He’d given himself an hour to walk around town—to face the ghosts of his past and to let out some of his present pent-up energy with a little exercise. He made a mental note to find a gym in Glen Oaks, and he had to start running again in the mornings.
    He had a lot to smile about as he breathed in the warm March day—nothing in the world smelled quite like spring in New York State. At the top of his list of blessings was Annie’s decision to allow him to see his kids. Joe had felt as if he’d won the lottery on Monday night when he’d gone to the church where he was to meet them.
    Picking up his pace, Joe realized he was in the center of town; he passed Kilmer’s Drugs where he’d bought his first condom, the small shoe repair shop where his father took his old boots, and Zip’s Bar and Grill, where he’d taken his first drink. Some of the places elicited good memories—sharing a soda with Annie at the diner, picking out a tux for his wedding at Hall’s Clothing, and the quick kisses he stole from Annie in the balcony of the Fox Theater. Carefully avoiding DanceWorks straight ahead on Oak Street, he took a turn down Market Street and bumped into his sister coming around the corner.
    “Hi, Suz.” Grasping her shoulders to steady her, he tried to keep his voice neutral. The meeting with her had not gone as well as with his kids.
    She shrugged out of his grasp. “Hello, Joe.”
    He scanned her outfit. “Are you working at the dance studio?”
    “I own half of it. Annie let me buy in last year.”
    “Really? I didn’t know that.”
    “You miss a lot in six years, bro.”
    Taking a deep breath, Joe stuck his hands in the pockets of his raincoat. “I told you last week I was sorry about that.”
    “You have a lot to be sorry about.”
    “I know. And you’re not going to let me off the hook, like Ma did, are you?”
    Oh, thank the