Season of Change(106)

                Here was her proof. Her reason to be strong. Her reason to turn down that job interview.

                She ran her fingers through his perfectly styled hair, murmuring soothing words. It felt so right to hold him. She could have done so all day, if not for the late-afternoon sun. “Come inside.”

                He hesitated.

                She ran a hand down his mud-brown checked tie and gave a gentle tug, with an equally gentle smile. And then she led him inside to the blessed relief of the air conditioner, settled him in a chair, and sat next to him. “You were very brave this morning.”

                “I couldn’t look at the closet.” He couldn’t seem to look anywhere now. His gaze drifted to a view of the river.

                “It’s a start.”

                “Flynn made me do it.”

                “I’m sure that’s not true. You don’t do anything you don’t want to.”

                “I kissed you,” he said raggedly.

                “You must have wanted to do that.” Her cheeks heated. “I wasn’t the one who initiated that first kiss.”

                Slade’s eyes turned dark, blustery green. “I didn’t want to kiss you. You said—”

                “Forget I thought we could get it out of our systems.” It had worked with Johnny Harding when she was in the seventh grade. “Can we get back to the reason you’re walking the valley when it’s one hundred degrees outside?”

                He nodded, slowly, deliberately, as if gathering up his control. “You’re right. I could have stopped Flynn. I think I was...curious. Flynn went in and walked around. I couldn’t. It was as if my father was there and telling me to stay out.”

                Would he have done that eight years ago?

                She squeezed his hand.

                “And the smell...I’d forgotten what he smelled like, but once we opened the door...” His voice trailed off and he stared out a window.

                “Flynn said all his clothes were there. That’s all it is. Clothes.”

                His eyes. So haunted. “I’m a horrible father. My kids are living across the hall from...from...”

                “Slade.” She put her palm against his cheek, feeling the beginnings of stubble. “My grandmother sleeps in the same bed where my grandfather passed away. She loved him. And if you ask her, she’ll tell you he wasn’t perfect. But she loved him.” Christine lowered her fingers, sliding them beneath his collar, beneath his tie. The backs of her fingers brushed the edges of his scar. “Your father had his flaws, and demons he couldn’t deal with. But he loved you, or he wouldn’t have wanted to go alone.”

                Slade drew her close, tucking her face into the crook of his neck. “In my head, I know I shouldn’t blame myself. But in my heart...”

                His heart had carried too much guilt for too long. “You can’t change the past. You can only look to the future.” Christine sat up, needing him to listen. “You have two bright, wonderful girls who need a dad in their life more than four weeks a year. They need someone who’s going to be there for them when they make mistakes. Someone who knows what it’s like to pick themselves up when things look irreparable.”

                “You think I should tell them what I tried to do?” He looked horrified.