Worth the Fall(79)

“You haven’t heard from your friend?” His mom set a glass of iced tea in front of him. “I’m sure she’s nice, Matt. I don’t doubt that she must be for you to be so taken with her. You want to help her and that’s admirable, but, honey”—she pulled out a chair and sat across from him—“what about your own family?”

His own family? His mom could not have chosen a worse time to have a talk about Abby.

“I just don’t want to see you miss out on starting at the beginning. Getting married, having children.”

“What are you saying? You think because her husband died she should be alone? Do you think Elizabeth should be alone the rest of her life if something happened to Paul? Should Nathan grow up without a father?”

“Easy, son.” His father stepped up, laying a hand on his mother’s shoulder. “We’re not saying anything negative about Abby, so don’t get your back up.”

“No, of course not.” His mother looked from him to the shredded napkin in her hand. “I just want you to be happy. You’ve been away for so long. If you’re ready to settle down…”

Matt rubbed a hand over his face so his mother wouldn’t see the fury in his eyes. Afraid he couldn’t hide his emotions, he rose and walked outside onto his parents’ deck, making a conscience effort not to the slam the door behind him.

The wide expanse rolled out before him: the browning grass; the maple trees with only a few leaves left, desperately hanging on. One less, he thought as a bloodred leaf fell to the ground. The whole scene was made even more depressing by the gray sky and damp air. Exactly like he felt. Dark and damp.

His father stepped up beside him without saying a word.

Matt leaned his forearms against the railing and hung his head in defeat, the weight of his words heavy. “I may have blown it, Dad.”

Anthony Senior was silent. It wasn’t the military that had taught Matt the art of quietly waiting people out. It was his father, and he applied it now. Matt would have to remember that when Jack hit his teens. If he was around to see it.

“I was an ass the last time I talked to her. She’s just so damn independent. Is it wrong to want her to need me?”

“I wouldn’t say it’s wrong.”

Which didn’t tell him what his father would say. His mom and dad had come home every day like clockwork. Unlike Abby, Matt had never worried even once that they wouldn’t. Or that one day they might leave him. He looked over the yard, so full of memories. The tree fort he’d built with his dad and brothers still stood. How many times had Abby built her life around someone only to have it come tumbling down?

“She’s so afraid.” He shook his head at his idiocy. “She didn’t have the best childhood. Her parents died when she was young. She glosses over it, but she was tossed around, never stayed in one place too long.” And the way he’d turned it back on her made him sick.

“That’s tough.”

Matt looked at his father. “She’s never had anyone that stuck, you know? Her husband was an ass. Always put work first.” He stopped at the knowing look on his dad’s face.

“I don’t know what to do. I made a promise to someone and it feels wrong to break it.” He turned back to the space below, his mind wobbling between T dying on the ground and the look in Abby’s eyes right before he kissed her goodbye. “But…I don’t want to live without her.”

“You may not want to. The question is can you?”

His dad went back inside, leaving him to his thoughts. Matt followed a few minutes later, walked to the counter, and kissed his mom’s cheek. He knew she worried, that what he did, being in the military, weighed on her heart. Even so, she handed him a cookie like he was a child with a skinned knee.

“You act like I’m doing her a favor,” he said quietly, “when it’s the other way around. It’s me who’s had an empty spot”—he gestured beside himself—“not her. Abby won’t keep me from having a family. Without her, there won’t be one.”

—

Matt worked all day, throwing himself into the house. He’d gotten his new phone and had already made ten or so calls to no answer. Chances were her phone was dead. He wanted his to be the first call she heard when it came back to life. With his mind elsewhere, he painted half the hall bathroom before realizing it wasn’t the same color he’d started the project with a week ago. After that, he hammered his thumb pounding the lid onto the wrong damn paint can. He continued to call, left more messages, and worked on tiling the bathroom most of the night.