Carolina Moon

Christ, I don’t even remember the last time. I can’t even get a picture of her face in my head.”
    “That’s all right now.”
    “It’s not all right. My family’s ripping itself apart. For God’s sake, Faith, they think my uncle killed her.”
    It was the horror in his eyes that had her pushing back her own. “He’s a bad man, Wade. A bad and dangerous man, and nothing to do with you. I’m sorry for Tory, I swear I am. And for your aunt and your family. But… well, I’m going to say it even if it makes you mad at me. She chose him, Wade, and she stayed with him. Maybe that’s a kind of love, but it’s a bad kind. It’s a sorry kind.”
    “We don’t know what goes on in other people’s lives.”
    “Oh, hell we don’t. We’re always saying that, but we do know. I know what went on in my parents’ lives. I know that if either of them had any gumption they’d have made their marriage work, or they’d have ended it. Instead my mother clung to the Lavelle name like it was some sort of prize, and Papa took up with another woman. And whose fault was that? I spent a long time letting myself believe it was the other woman’s, but it wasn’t. It was Papa’s for not honoring his marriage vows, and Mama’s for tolerating it. Maybe it’s easier to say this is all Hannibal Bodeen’s fault. But it’s not. And it sure as hell isn’t yours, or Tory’s, or your daddy’s.”
    She pushed back from the table. “I wish I could think of nice things to say. Of soft and comforting things to say, but I’m no good at it. I guess you want to go on over to your daddy’s.”
    “No.” He kept his eyes on her face as he had since she’d begun to speak. “He’s better off with my mother. She’ll know what to do for him. Who the hell would’ve thought you’d know what to do for me?” He held out a hand. When she took it, he pulled her close, turned his face into her belly. “Stay, will you?”
    “‘Course I will.” She stroked a hand down his hair. Her insides were a little shaky, an odd feeling. “We’ll just be quiet awhile.”
    He held on, as surprised as she that she would be an anchor for him. “I’ve been sitting here since my father called. I don’t know how long. Half an hour, an hour. Frozen inside. I don’t know what to do for my family.”
    “You will, when the time comes to do it. You always do. You want me to fix you some fresh coffee?”
    “No. Thanks. No. I have to call my grandmother, and Tory. I have to figure out what to say first.” With his eyes closed and his face pressed against her, he listened to the dogs barking in the next room. “I’m going to keep Mongo.”
    “I know it, honey.”
    “His leg’s doing all right. It’ll take a while to heal yet, but he’ll be fine. A little gimpy maybe. I was going to find him a good home, but… I can’t.” He looked up, puzzled. “What do you mean you know it? I never keep dogs.”
    “You hadn’t found the right one yet, is all.”
    His eyes narrowed on her face, but his dimples deepened as they did when he was amused. “You’re getting a little too wise for comfort.”
    “It’s the new me. I kind of like it.”
    “And this new you cooks supper?”
    “On rare occasions. I got us a couple of steaks in there, and the trimmings.” She walked to the counter, dug in the bag, and pulled out two white candles. “Lucy down at the market asked me what kind of evening I had planned buying red meat and white candles and a fancy cheesecake in a box.”
    He smiled a little, rose from his chair. “And what did you tell Lucy down at the market?”
    “I told her I was fixing a romantic dinner for two, for myself and Dr. Wade Mooney. A number of interested ears pricked at that tidbit of information.” She set the candles down. “I hope you don’t mind that I was indiscreet, and that we will now find ourselves the subject of considerable talk and speculation.”
    “No.” He slid his arms around her, laid his cheek on her hair. “I don’t mind.”
    “Lissy, honey, I don’t feel right about this.”
    “Now, Dwight, we’re paying a grievance call on friends and neighbors.” Trying to find comfort, Lissy shifted on the seat of the car, hauling her belly up with one arm. “Tory’s just lost her mother, and she’ll appreciate some sympathy.”
    “Tomorrow maybe.” Dwight gave the road ahead a pained look. “The next day.”
    “Why, she won’t feel up to making herself a decent meal, now, will she? So I’m