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Why had he gone off on her?
Vi pulled up alongside him, worrying her lip to shreds. The steady rumbling of her vehicle played havoc with Rory’s whacked-out emotions. Instead, he focused on her respiratory symptoms—the rise and fall of her chest had leveled out. Her color had returned to normal. He raised his hand in a curt wave, motioning for her to drive on. Punching his ignition button, he yanked at his tie. Only one of them should be in pain over his leg.
Vi picked up Daddy’s tablet off the nightstand. She’d gone through the motions of dinner with Paige and Brenna, relieved when they, too, seemed preoccupied with the events of the day. Clicking on a new document, she skimmed Daddy’s brief note about how he had wrapped and stored her dollhouse in the attic. She’d wondered what had happened to it. Not sleepy, she clicked on another file.
Dearest Red,
In spite of the divorce and everything else that happened, I never stopped loving your mother. The short time we had together meant the world to me. Then she moved on. I’m at peace with it now. Love don’t play fair, though. I’ll love her ’til the day I die, but it’s a different, better kind of love. I just want her to be happy. This guy Marshall seems a pretty good fella. He’ll be good to her, treat her right.
I hope with all my heart you can let the past go. When bad things happen, they’ll want to hang on and mess with you, but don’t let ‘em. Go ahead and get married. And don’t be put off by the sorry example your mother and I set. Pick the right guy and have a whole passel of kids. You brought me so much joy, I’d hate for you to miss out.
I love you, Red. You go and have a great life.
Vi set the tablet aside. She stared at the wall as silent tears rolled down her cheeks. Relief and heartache mingled in her heart. Sadness that her parents never worked through their differences. Yet their mutual love for her had remained rock solid and provided her with a strong sense of identity
Snores came from the corner of her bedroom. A giggle forced its way up her throat. “Glad you’re comfortable, buddy.” Cyrus lay in his new dog bed, all four paws in the air, sound asleep. So far, Thunder and Cyrus pretended each other didn’t exist. The cats were still hiding.
From the TV noise emanating from the living room, It’s a Wonderful Life had reached the grand finale. Vi turned her light out with a sigh. Maybe a wonderful life for George Bailey, but not for her.
Would she ever find contentment? Or had she messed up so badly she’d lost her chance? Daddy’s advice to move on and find joy seemed too much to hope for.
Her phone chimed. She dug around in the blankets until she found it, then clicked on the screen.
Are you awake?
Vi couldn’t handle any more unpredictable behavior from Rory.
It depends.
She stretched, wiggling her toes.
Sorry I was a jerk this evening.
Vi stared at the screen. This Rory she recognized. The hard-edged, irrational person he’d morphed into this afternoon? Not so much. Her thumbs tapped the keys.
Can we talk about it?
She waited until her screen turned dark. Several minutes later, it chirped again.
I don’t know if I can, Red.
She winced. Ouch! An unhealed wound.
I’m a safe place, Rory.
Silence.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Rory sat on the bottom bleacher at powerlifting practice, fingers smoothing the sides of his beard. He’d signed off as coach but promised Tavo he’d monitor a few sessions. Absently, he watched individuals go through their custom workouts. Rock music blasted from the speakers. The main event today was Tina. Barring no problems, she would achieve her latest weightlifting goal. Even now, she walked off excess energy, continually shaking her limbs to keep them loose. The vertical line between her brows creased with concentration.
He rubbed at the knot in his right thigh. His elementary attempts at self-massage, combined with more sitting, had eased the additional pain brought on by the airplane ride. No doubt Vi’s hands could accomplish better results. If he could only get past someone seeing, much less touching, the scars covering his legs. How that translated into eventually getting married, he hadn’t quite figured out. The right woman would love him, scars and all, right? It’s what gave him the courage to end his relationship with Stella. He’d known from the beginning they weren’t a good fit. Whenever he’d stepped back, though, she’d burrowed in deeper. Gradually, his life became an ongoing round of placation until God helped him find the fortitude to break off the relationship for good.
Procrastination wasn’t helping his leg either. He needed to visit his doctor at the vet center in San Antonio, much as he dreaded it. This latest, greatest prosthetic won the bad fit award. Over the months, it had worn down faster than predicted, causing other problems. He muttered under his breath, “You promised to handle this with me, Lord. Sorry my attitude stinks.”
The powerlifters went through their routines. Each person lifted a custom amount of weight from his or her station. The air buzzed as teammates called encouragement to one another. Tina provided an additional spark. She stood with her head down before a massive weight bar, no doubt praying for the strength to break her own record. Her shoulders bunched as she wrapped her hands around the bar, then raised it ever-so-slowly, eyes bulging, jaw gritted. She held, then let the deadlift bar drop with an exhale, equal parts grunt and snort. An intense beat pulsated through the atmosphere.
A few feet away, Tavo looked up from his stopwatch and gave her a thumbs up.
