The Light Through the Leaves(126)

“Are you sorry?”

“Yes!”

“Will you say I don’t have to go to the meeting today?”

“No.”

“You’d take fire ants in the face for that?”

“Yes.”

He tipped her back up onto her feet. “Your dedication to these stupid meetings is weird.”

“They aren’t stupid. My dedication is to you getting better, and that’s not weird. Go put on a shirt and get in the car.”

“Can we please not go today? I’m really not in the mood.”

“You need to. With the hurricane coming, the Saturday meeting might be canceled.”

“Show me how to pray to the hurricane earth spirit for that.”

“Go!”

He grabbed the Frisbee off the ground, bopped her on top of the head with it, and went inside. He was such a child sometimes. But she loved his child side as much as she did him. She hadn’t known him as a boy, and it was fun to see what she’d missed.

As usual, River stared at his phone during the drive into Gainesville. His phone was as much an addiction as the drugs and alcohol had been. She was glad she’d been raised without one.

“Check this out,” he said, holding up the phone to her.

“I told you not to show me your phone when I’m driving.”

“Just look for a second.”

“No. You can tell me what it is.”

“Jasper texted me a picture of our house with a ‘For Sale’ sign. My dad finally put it on the market today.”

“So your grandmother really moved out.”

“Yep. She lives in some fancy senior village now. And she says she’s not leaving any of her money to my dad if he doesn’t say he isn’t gay.”

“That’s horrible.”

“It’s a typical Gram Hammer-’Em-Into-Submission move.”

“Jonah won’t give in to get the money.”

“He won’t. And I’m proud of him for finally standing up to her.”

“Where will he live when he sells the house?”

“He and Ryan are looking for a place together.”

“Are you sad to lose the house where you grew up?”

“Yes and no. I’ll miss it, but I have a lot of bad associations.”

Raven supposed most of that had to do with her abduction and Ellis leaving.

She pulled into the parking lot of the church where the meeting was held.

“Why don’t you come in for some laughs?” River said.

“I have to read a book for school.”

“Your loss,” he said, getting out.

The first few times, Raven had gone in with him. But that was too much hand-holding. He had to want to get better on his own. As it was, she had to talk him into the meetings too often.

When he came out, he was in a quiet mood. And when River was quiet, it was hard not to notice. He remained silent as she drove to get dinner at a restaurant, as they often did after meetings.

While they waited for their food, she asked, “What did you talk about in the meeting today?”

“You, as a matter of fact,” he said.

“What about me?”

“Your abduction. I’d never told them about that before.”

“Do you remember it well?”

“Oh yeah, I remember it,” he said in a biting tone.

“You were only four.”

“Four and a half.” He stared out the restaurant window. When he turned back to her, he said, “The thing is, I was more responsible than anyone has ever told you. At first, Mom took all the blame. Like, all of it. That was what screwed her up so bad. But, as you know, Dad told us he’s to blame. I have to admit, that was a real shocker when he told us Mom had seen him kissing Irene that day.”

It had been a shock. The day before Jonah and Jasper drove back to New York last summer, Jonah had sat his children down and told them Ellis saw him kiss his lover the day of the abduction. That was why she’d taken her children to the woods. She was comforted by the forest, and she’d gone there to think about what to do. She had decided to divorce Jonah, but she’d been so upset, she left her baby in the parking lot.

“Mom knows the truth, but she never talks about it,” River said. “I was the one who distracted her and made her put you down in the parking lot. I spilled my tadpoles in the car, and I was being a total shit about it. I screamed my head off and made Mom put all the tadpoles back in the jar.” Tears magnified his blue-gray irises. “She forgot she hadn’t put you in the car because of me.”

“You were a little boy. Of course you’d cry when your tadpoles spilled. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I was a little shit then, and I’m a big shit now. And if you think these meetings will change any of that, you’re as deluded as everyone else. Right now, I want a drink so bad I’d get one if I still had my fake ID.”

“No you wouldn’t.”

“You can’t stop me! I’m a train wreck! Don’t you see that?”

She went to his side of the booth and put her arms around him.

“Stop it!” he hissed. “You look like an idiot!”

She held on to him.

“Let me go!” he growled.