What Janie Saw(118)

                She didn’t answer, just shook her head.

                He realized that right now, she needed him.

                Rafe wasn’t sure what to make of how protective he was feeling. It wasn’t typical. Usually, he was the master of keeping a respectable distance. At the moment, though, he wasn’t the master of anything. Last night at her place had certainly proved that. He’d been planning the whole let’s-get-to-know-each-other scenario.

                “This is my second funeral,” she said. “I’m told I went to my mother’s. I’ve always felt guilty because I didn’t go to my dad’s.”

                It occurred to Rafe that he’d never really heard either of the Vincent sisters talk about their dad except that he’d abandoned them. They talked about their mother, who’d died when Janie was very young, and about each other, and growing up in Texas.

                “Why didn’t you?”

                “Katie was adamant that she wasn’t going. Quite honestly, back then, I was content to follow her lead. Given the chance again, I’d make up my own mind. Katie’s had a hard time forgiving my dad for sending us to live with Aunt Betsy.”

                Rafe’s dad had been the cornerstone of the Salazar home. Every morning his mother made sure his dad’s uniform was pressed and his lunch packed. Rafe had grown up watching his mother kiss his father right before Dad headed out the door. During the day, she took care of the house and planned a meal Dad would appreciate. After he died, she’d bought the Corner Diner and turned it into something special.

                When Rafe was a kid, every afternoon, minutes before his father was due home, he’d be at the screen door, waiting.

                “A watched pot never boils,” his mother would say.

                Yet, until his father came through the door, the day would somehow be incomplete.

                Rafe had been in his late twenties when his father had died. Jerry Salazar’s funeral had been standing room only, too, but it had been held at the church. In the Main Street Church, there’d been friends, family, policemen from Scorpion Ridge, from Adobe Hills, from more than five other counties.

                The church was where his father had lived and died.

                “And you’ve forgiven him?” Rafe asked.

                “Sad to say, I was never angry. I never considered him much of a parent. My only goal was to be with Katie. The first funeral I remember, you were with me. It was Patricia’s. It didn’t feel like this one.”

                Rafe agreed. “Patricia’s was more of a celebration. She’d lived a good life, and—”

                Before he could continue, Derek’s mother stepped up. “Thank you so much for coming.”

                Beside him, Janie’s hand tightened on his elbow. Rafe faced Derek’s mother. He couldn’t say, I’m hoping your son’s killer shows up today and that’s mainly why I’m here. Instead, speaking for both himself and Janie, he said, “We wanted to pay our respects.”

                Rafe thought back to the names in the guest book. His name was number twelve, hers thirteen. Nathan hadn’t signed in; Rafe didn’t blame him.

                “A few of Derek’s teachers are here,” Janie whispered to Rafe as Mrs. Chaney moved away.

                “From the college?”