Jesus Freaks: The Prodigal (Jesus Freaks #2)(16)

Immediately I’m beating myself up for Matt having this face-off with Roland. Sure, it was his idea to take this walk, but if he hadn’t gotten himself mixed up with me, he’d probably be studying in his room or the library right now. Just like everyone else.

“Sorry,” I whisper to Matt.

“Don’t do that,” he whispers back while we’re in front of our two-person firing squad.

Mom speaks up, taking a deep breath before she does. I’m thankful Roland kept her quiet for so long. She tends to be a bit excitable unless she has a minute to collect herself. “Kennedy, you’re going to come back with me to Roland’s where we’ll gather your stuff and take you back to your dorm. Roland is going to walk with Matt back to campus.”

Roland nods, “I’m willing to cover for you two right now, but this is the last time. I can’t—won’t—do it anymore, is that clear?”

“Yes, sir,” Matt and I answer at the same time.

I’ve never called anyone sir in my life, and Matt seems to sense this, judging by his sly grin.

“Matt, we’ll go grab a coffee and have a chat before heading back.” Roland straightens his shoulders and a curtain of calm falls over his face. He’s once again regained his composure, putting an arm around Matt’s shoulders and turning him around to exit the trail from where we’d entered.

“Thanks for the talk,” I call after Matt, wanting everyone around us to know that that’s all we were doing—in case there was any question.

Matt grins over his shoulder. “Any time, K. Sawyer.”

Mom loops her arm through mine and tugs me back in the direction we’re to walk. Back to the New Life Palace. Roland’s house.

***

Mom and I were silent the entire walk to Roland’s house. Not a record-breaking silence as far as the Sawyer women are concerned, but uncomfortable nonetheless. The only words she spoke when we crossed the threshold into Roland’s house were instructions to collect my things and meet her at the car.

There were a smattering of reporters and curious passers-by lingering around the iron gates, but I was so consumed by the vacuum of my day that I didn’t notice them until we drove toward campus in Mom’s Prius.

“Kind of funny that you and Roland have the same car, huh?” I’ve not mentioned this to Roland, but he wouldn’t likely find the same dark humor in it that Mom is sure to.

She runs her tongue across the front of her teeth. “I drive it because I care about the environment. He drives it because New Life wants everyone to think they care about the environment.”

“How incredibly judgmental of you.” I’ve grown tired of her incessant slamming of everything in my new life. Huh, my new life at New Life. Clever. Though, I realize most of it is how she’s always been, but being away from it for long stretches has given me a fledgling sensitivity.

“And,” I throw in, “I’m not sure how anyone who ships a car from Japan can be that concerned with the environment. They don’t even make these in the US.”

“Whatever, Kennedy,” she snaps. “Don’t get that attitude with me.”

“Oh? I thought that’s what you valued most about me; my ability to think and speak for myself.”

She sighs loudly and I notice her eyes cloud with tears. “Just give it a rest for a minute.”

Then, it hits me. The note. For thirteen years she’s had no idea that her beloved husband made contact with the man that wanted nothing to do with her or their daughter. While it was just a picture Dan had sent to Roland, it was such a personal piece of my mom’s story, I’m sure she’s feeling betrayed.

I reach for her hand when she puts the car in park in front of my dorm. “Have you talked to Dan?”

She shakes her head, looking down. “I’ve left plenty of crazed messages, so as soon as he’s in from the ice he’ll be sure to call me right away.”

Dan’s latest business trip is to NHL training camps, as hockey season is underway. As part of his professional outreach, he travels nearly year-round to various collegiate and professional sports training camps to train their medical staff on what to do in the event of an emergency during the game, practice, or whatever. Further, he works with the athletes to teach them how to better protect themselves. His trips the rest of the year are usually only a couple of days at a time, but training camp ones are a solid two-weeks long and he’s busy from sun up to sun down.

“What did he say to you when you two talked last night? What did you say for that matter?” she asks, resting her head back against her seat.

It was a miracle I was able to reach him yesterday before announcing myself as Roland’s daughter at this morning’s service. I have far less trouble getting a hold of him than Mom does, but he also likely knows if I’m calling him, it’s not just to chat. We’ve never had a chat-like relationship.

I mimic Mom’s position—head back and eyes up. “I just told him I felt like it was really important for me to take this step. That I truly didn’t think Roland posed an emotional threat to me, but that I needed to fully wear this identity for a while.”



“And he said …”



“That he understood.” I swallow hard and lean forward, unbuckling my seatbelt. “He said that I was a grown woman and he respected my decision. Where are you staying tonight?” I ask, opening the door and pointing to the back so she’ll pop the trunk.