He hung his head lower. "Yes."
She threw away the towel. "Now let's go have dinner and I'm going to call Lawrence and Aunt Karen and let everyone know we're fine. Lawrence will come for us and we'll go back to Marietta and tomorrow everything will be normal again."
She started for the door but TJ hung back. McKenna glanced over her shoulder. He was still standing there, small and dejected. She suppressed a sigh. What was the matter now? "TJ?"
He looked up at her, worried. "Are they going to arrest him? The police? Are they going to take my dad?"
Her chest squeezed. She felt a flutter of panic. "I don't know-" she broke off, grimaced. "Maybe."
His eyes filled with tears. "Will they handcuff him, like they do on TV?"
Her heart fell. "I hope not."
"'Cause he's bad?"
A lump filled her throat. Her eyes felt gritty. "He's not bad … not really."
"I heard you say that he's going back to jail and he'll be there forever."
Of course TJ was listening to everything. TJ was her little silent sponge. "I don't know what's going to happen to your daddy, but let's not talk this way. It makes me sad."
"But you hate him. I heard you say that in the truck. Two times."
"I shouldn't have said it. It wasn't nice of me. It wasn't kind."
"But you do hate him."
"TJ, he's your daddy. He loves you a lot. And we're here right now because he loves you so much, so let's go have dinner with him and not worry so much, okay?"
He stared at her a long time, expression brooding.
"TJ?" she prompted.
"I just don't understand," he said.
"Understand what?"
"If he loves me so much, why do you hate him?"
"It's complicated." She hesitated. "And I don't hate him."
"Then why did you say it? It was mean. It hurt his feelings."
They exited the bathroom to find Trey was waiting for them by the hostess stand, a red flannel shirt bundled under his arm. "I remembered I had this tucked behind the seat. It's been sitting there for a long time, but it should keep you warm." Trey gave the large cherry red flannel shirt a shake, and held it out to her.
She opened her mouth to say she was fine, but she wasn't fine. She was cold and tired and sad, worried about Lawrence and TJ and how everything had changed so fast that she couldn't get her head around it.
Right now she should be at the wedding reception at the Graff, finishing dinner, or perhaps having the first dance. Instead she was here, at a rustic diner outside White Sulphur Springs, a town with a population of less than a thousand.
She was definitely over dressed and over exposed for a Montana diner that was pretty much in the middle of nowhere.
"I'll take the shirt, even if dusty." She slipped the soft flannel over her shoulders, pushing her arms through the sleeves, buttoning the front and tying the long shirt tails around her waist to keep her warmer. And she was warmer, and she did feel better. "Thank you."
"By the way," Trey said, "there is only one waitress on tonight and the regular cook didn't show so service will be slow and the meal questionable."
"Do you want to go somewhere else?" she asked.
"I was wondering about that."
"I just want to eat now," TJ said. "I'm hungry."
McKenna glanced around the mostly empty restaurant. Just a half dozen tables were filled. It couldn't be that much of a wait here. And then she spotted the phone by the cash register. She could call from that. As soon as they ordered, she'd ask if she could borrow it. Lawrence and her family must be frantic. She didn't want them sending out search parties. "Let's just stay."
The waitress, an older woman in a red checked apron, emerged from the kitchen's swinging doors, flushed but smiling. "Sorry to keep you waiting. A bit hectic in the kitchen but everything is good. Homestyle cooking at its finest."
McKenna smiled. "Sounds great."
"And it looks like congratulations are in order," the waitress added. "We don't get many wedding parties here. You all look so nice." But she frowned for a moment at the ill-fitting red flannel shirt. Reaching for menus from the hostess stand, she chucked TJ under the chin. "Especially you, little fellow. You look very sharp."
"My mom was going to marry Lawrence but then my dad came so now we're here."
"Sounds like a great day," she answered, obviously not understanding anything TJ was saying.
McKenna managed a faint, weak smile. "It's certainly been a day of surprises."
The waitress grinned back. "Aren't those the best kind?"
*
Trey took a seat on one side of the burgundy booth tucked along the wall, and McKenna and TJ sat on the other. Trey barely glanced at the plastic coated menu but TJ wanted to have all his options read to him, even though McKenna knew he'd order chicken and buttered noodles.
The waitress returned a few minutes later with glasses of water and to take their order. Trey wanted a steak sandwich and TJ chose his chicken and buttered noodles. McKenna was more stressed than hungry and asked about the diner's soup.
"It's vegetable beef," the waitress answered. "It's from yesterday but it's good. I had some earlier."
"I'll have a cup of that," McKenna said, closing her menu. "And coffee, please."
The waitress put away her notepad. "Cream with that?"
"No, thank you."
"Is the coffee fresh?" Trey asked.
"Brewing a new pot now."
"I'll have a cup, too," he said.
"Two coffees coming up," the waitress said. "And what about the little guy? Milk, chocolate milk, juice?"
"Milk," McKenna answered. "Thank you."
The waitress headed to the kitchen and McKenna glanced to the register and phone. She needed to call. She should do it soon.
As if reading her mind, Trey said, "You need to call. Everybody's going to be worried."
McKenna nodded. "Yeah."
"I'm sure the waitress will let you."
McKenna nodded again. She was dreading the call. It wouldn't be easy. Nothing about this was easy.
Trey was studying her face. "What's wrong?"
She shrugged. "It's going to get messy. Fast."
"It's already messy," he answered.
"Yeah, but-" she broke off as the waitress returned with their coffees and the milk for TJ.
"Anything else?" the waitress asked.
"Would it be all right to use the phone?" Trey asked. "It's a call to Marietta."
"Sure thing, hon. You know where the phone is? On the counter, up front? Help yourself. Just dial normally."
"Thanks."
The waitress moved on and McKenna looked at Trey. "You didn't have to do that. I could have handled it myself."
"Just trying to help you."
"Mr. Helpful, that's you."
His blue eyes sparked, lips curving slightly. "I can be good."
"Mmm."
"I was instrumental in making Deer Lodge's ranch program successful."
"You've always been a good rancher. That was never the problem."
"I always loved you, and TJ."
"Your love wasn't the problem, either." She sipped her coffee. It was surprisingly strong and hot. She sipped again. "I think you know what the problem was."
"You've always known who I am. I've never hidden it from you."
"It's one thing to fight at seventeen, and another when you're a thirty-one year old man with a fiancée and a baby."
"Who did you kill?" TJ blurted.
"Who told you he killed someone?" McKenna demanded.
"Lawrence." TJ shrugged. "He said he wasn't supposed to say anything, and so I shouldn't say anything to you ‘cause it'd upset you." He looked across the table at Trey. "Did you really kill someone?"
"Yes," Trey said bluntly. "I did. I didn't mean to kill him though. We got into a fight in a bar."
TJ clasped his milk, more intrigued than scared. "How you'd do it?"
Trey held his gaze. "I punched him."
"You punched him to death?"
"No. I hit him three times. On the third punch he went backward, hit his head on the edge of a table. He died a couple of days later."
"The police arrested you?"
Trey nodded. "There was a trial, and two days before your first birthday I was sentenced to five years in jail."
"What's jail like?"
"Bad. You don't want to ever go there."