Jesus Freaks: The Prodigal (Jesus Freaks #2)(47)

Rolling my eyes, I move so I’m sitting next to her, my legs dangling over the side of my bed. “He’s from Rome, Georgia, Mom. He’s not a hillbilly. It’s more of a city than this place.”

“Still,” she says, wrapping an arm around me, “I know his dad, and—”

“About that,” I cut in. “Do you know, like, what happened to his dad over the last few years?”

Mom looks confused. “No, what?”

“I don’t know.” I shake my head. “But it was something. I do know he got burnt out and stopped pastoring his church for a while. I don’t even know if he’s pastoring right now, at all. And, Matt’s made some weird references to sex and alcohol and stuff … I don’t know.” I briefly wonder if I should have mentioned any of this to her at all, because without a doubt she’ll have answers before I do.

“Listen,” she says softly. “I knew him a long time ago, but he was an upstanding guy with a lot of character. If he fell into a hard time, I trust he’ll work through it.” Her confident tone does little to calm me.

Actually, it pisses me off.

“You trust he’ll work through it?” I stand, facing her with my hands on my hips.

“Kennedy,” she says, standing next to me, “what’s the matter with you?”

“Why didn’t you trust that Roland would work through it? Huh? If it was a hard time he’d fallen on, why’d you let him walk away so easily?” This unplanned emotional outburst stings my eyes with tears.

“That’s different,” she states flatly.

“How?”

“I don’t have children with Buck Wells, Kennedy. I don’t know what his wife is, or was, going through.”

“Shouldn’t someone trust more when it’s the father of their children at stake?”

Mom’s voice drops to a near-whisper. “Things were different back then. I was different, and Roland was different. I was too close to the situation, and you are too young to understand.”

“Oh, am I?” I challenge. “I’m, what, two years younger than you were when you got pregnant with me?”

I’ve only seen my mom cry a few times in my life, but it looks like I’m about to again. Her eyes water and she looks to the ceiling. “Matt’s dad hasn’t walked away from the family, has he?”



“I don’t know,” I admit. “I mean, they all live together …”



“Your father walked away from you, Kennedy.”

“That’s old news, but thanks for rubbing it in. Why’d you let him?”

“I was hurt, Kennedy. I loved him very much. He was my first love …” she trails off, sitting again on the edge of the bed. “I know Dan told you what he thinks,” she says out of nowhere.

I sit next to her. “Thinks about what?” I feign ignorance.

Mom looks at me and rolls her wet, teary eyes.

“He told you that he talked to me?”

She nods. “Yes. Believe me, we fought about it for days.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t call me with some ranting explanation.”

“Even though he involved you, it really was between Dan and me. Bringing you in would have just made things worse.”

“Is he right?” I ask timidly.

Mom’s head jerks toward me, and I watch her lips tremble as she considers my question.

“It’s okay,” I whisper, placing my hand over hers. “I just … I really need to piece together where I come from, Mom.”

“I did love Roland, Kennedy. Very much.”

“And, is it like they always say about your first true love? Does it stick around in your bones?”

Her nod is slow at first, but as her tears fall more rapidly, so does her nod speed up.

“You still love him?” I ask in a shocked whisper.

Mom sniffs, rubbing her sleeve on her nose. “It’s not the kind of love that would make a relationship now. It’s hard to explain. But, yes, a piece of me will always love Roland. I mean, how could I not? He gave me you.”

I smile, allowing her to pull me into a hug. “It’s not just about me, though, is it? I mean, if you hadn’t gotten pregnant with me, would you have tried to stick it out with him a little longer? Like, if there wasn’t an infant about to be involved, would you have tried to save him?”

She takes a deep breath, her tears drying almost instantly. “I don’t know, sweetie,” she admits, almost sadly. “But what I do know is, Dan and I love each other with an intensity that I know will stand the test of time. I never had that certainty with Roland. It was all fire and gasoline.”

“So why do you … I don’t know … reminisce about it?”

“Roland told me about the first outburst you had at his house. When you yelled at him for not being there for you when you were little.”

I’m not surprised anymore about the interactions these two have. Seems like they’re a lot chattier behind the scenes than I gave either of them credit for.

“Okay,” I say, prompting her.

“That’s how I feel every single time I see him. I see the life we could have had flash before my eyes and I get angry, resentful, and hurt. It’s like losing the charismatic basketball captain all over again.”