Right Where We Belong (Silver Springs #4)(17)
“Still, it sounds like you’re in a big mess, and I’ve got finals and can’t do anything to help.”
“We’ll be okay.” At least she wouldn’t have to worry about running into one of her husband’s victims, or having her ex-mother-in-law show up to start another argument. Here she was on her own, but she was no different than anyone else, would have a chance to heal in an emotionally safe environment.
Reese lowered his voice. “I know Branson, especially, is struggling with everything that’s happened. Do you think he’ll be able to adjust?”
She thought of the bed-wetting they’d been dealing with since Gordon was arrested. “I do.”
“Maybe you should get him some therapy.”
“I should get us all therapy, but there’s no money for that.”
“Have you heard from Gordon?”
Like his mother, her ex had tried calling her many times, as many times as he could use the phone in jail. But after the first few days, when her faith had completely given way and she’d broken down and screamed her rage and anger at him as he begged her to ignore the proof she’d been shown—which she couldn’t—she’d stopped accepting his calls, too. That was when he’d started writing her long, rambling letters pledging his love and pleading his innocence. The last one had insisted that he’d found God, that he was attending daily Bible study and was praying that she’d be able to see that the police had the wrong man.
She hadn’t bothered to write back. She felt too conflicted when she communicated with him, hadn’t even told him—or his mother—that she was taking the kids and moving to California. She’d simply packed up and left as soon as possible. She planned to get a new phone number, too—to cut every tie that still attached her to Gordon. But all of that took time and attention to detail, and right now she was buried in far more basic tasks. “Not in the last couple of days,” she said.
“What about Dorothy?”
“Of course. She texted me again yesterday.”
“What’d she want this time?”
“More of the same. She’s desperate to get me to pay for his attorneys.”
“How can she still believe he’s innocent?”
“I’m not sure she cares if he’s innocent. His victims don’t matter to her. She wants to save her baby.”
“After all the shit she put him through in the past, it’s shocking she’s so defensive now.”
Savanna saw a spider crawling across the floor and jumped up. She hated spiders. “Ironic, isn’t it? And yet she claims I’m ruining his life. She got to him long before I did.”
“What about his father? Do you think he’ll step in and try to help?”
With a shudder of revulsion, she swept the spider into her dustpan and hurried to take it outside. “No. Gordon’s never gotten along with Ken. Once he left Dorothy, he never looked back.” What happened to Gordon when he was a child wasn’t fair. Both of his parents had let him down—and now he’d passed on the favor. “I feel bad for him when I think of his past, but that doesn’t change the present. I have to do what I can to save my sanity so that I can support our kids.”
“Branson and Alia are great. They’re going to make it through this and so will you.”
That spider had unsettled her, made her more cognizant of the dirt and all she had to accomplish to make this place into a home. “I hope that’s true, given we don’t have any choice.”
“Will you return to Utah for the trial?”
“No. I don’t want to go back for anything.”
“I thought there was some question about whether you’d testify.”
“Detective Sullivan once asked me if I’d be willing to take the stand and talk about how secretive Gordon was—and how much he was gone. Sullivan wanted me to confirm that Gordon wasn’t at home when the attacks took place, but they have my sworn statement, which lays it all out, and the forensic evidence is far more damning than anything I’d have to say. I suppose they could contact me if they feel the trial isn’t going well and ask me to come, but right now it doesn’t appear they need me.”
“Will you be able to do it if they ask?”
“I don’t know, to be honest. I’d rather not be involved.”
“I don’t blame you.”
After that, they talked about having him come visit once the semester ended so he could help fix a few things. But he also worked as a bartender and couldn’t jeopardize his job, wasn’t sure how many days he’d be able to get off.
“I’ll see what I can do and let you know,” he promised before ending the call.
Once they’d disconnected, Savanna finished unpacking the kitchen. Then she walked down to the end of the drive to see if her neighbor had come home. Why she was curious enough to make the effort when she was so tired, she couldn’t say. She just couldn’t quit thinking about him. She supposed she was romanticizing him a little bit, since it was much more fun to think about this new person in her life than all the dark things she’d been thinking about for the past couple of months. Occasionally, she even caught herself wondering what it would be like to kiss a man who had facial hair. Gordon had hated beards and mustaches—even goatees—so he’d never worn one.