Coming Home to Love (Lakeside Porch Series Book 2) (28 page)

“Surely that wasn’t his opening line when you reported their deaths to him?”

“Actually, the airline reported their deaths to him, as the eldest son and next of kin. He called me to break the news, and I had just ended the call with the insurers. I blurted out something about already knowing because . . . If ever I could take back my words, that would be the one time I’d pick.”

“We say stupid things when we’re in shock. But I can see how that would start the conversation down the wrong path.”

“Exactly. There was always animosity between us.”

Justin and Gwen talked about the sibling rivalry, the differences between the sons, how those differences were twisted and used cruelly against them by their parents.

Justin summed it up. “Josh was not ambitious. He was content with his position as the son of a wealthy family, happy in his role as husband to a wealthy woman, and delighted to be the father of bright, charming children.”

“He sounds like a happy, contented father. I don’t see anything wrong with that picture.”

“Of course you’re right, but I’m sure he took a lot of heat from mother and father, and they’d probably been rubbing it in about their visit to me in London and how proud they were of my promising career and blah, blah.”

“Ouch.”

“I suppose, hearing I’d drawn the lucky number being the beneficiary of that particular flight insurance policy, he was worried about coming up short in their will. As their first son he had nothing to worry about, of course. I suspect they took out policies like that every time they flew, alternating the beneficiary. Suffice to say, he was upset about the insurance and outraged at anything that smacked of favoritism. I suddenly seemed the fair-haired boy, and that added fuel to Josh’s fire.”

“He blamed you for their death?”

Justin nodded. “Loudly and at every opportunity.”

“Say more.”

“I brought their remains home. Arranged the funeral. Stayed long enough to sign off the probate papers, and escaped back to London. Josh kept up a barrage of blame. If I hadn’t been working at the London campus instead of in Chicago. If they hadn’t flown to London. If they hadn’t taken out the insurance.”

“That’s magical thinking, would you agree?”

“Of course, but that’s where his head was.”

“So he blamed, and you ran.”

“Exactly. Josh became bitter, even with his inheritance and the relative peace of mind once they were off his back. And I blamed myself for his bitterness. I should have been able to change his thinking, bring him back to the reality of the situation.”

“Did you try?”

Justin sat pensively, looking out at the lake. “I did try. Yes. Every effort was thrown back in my face. Gwen, I remember the children’s faces—Joel and Christie—as they listened to us arguing. I was no help to them at a time when they’d lost their grandparents. My brother and I were adding bewilderment to their pain. And I couldn’t bear it.” He shuddered once and took a cleansing breath, before continuing. “So I left.”

“I wrote to Josh a few times, but nothing I said could penetrate his bitterness. I gather he could never quite enjoy the gifts of his life with Maireid and the children after that. Bridey—Maireid’s mother—kept in touch with me, let me know how the children were doing. Josh drank heavily, she told me, and got worse all the time. I half suspect he was drinking when their SUV went off the road and killed them all except Joel.”

Gwen sat without moving.

Justin’s breathing grew shallow as his own words sank in. “God help me, I think that’s the truth of it.”

When he met her eyes, Gwen let her sadness show on her face. It was the truth. He must have heard it at the time of the automobile accident—it was all over the papers—and stuffed it down with his grief.

“You’re not going to talk me out of it, are you?’

Gwen shook her head. She swallowed hard but still could not speak. Her eyes brimmed with tears.

Justin turned to the lake, fading from view now in the darkness of early evening. “The alcoholism didn’t skip a generation, as I always thought,” he said.

Gwen said quietly, “Denial makes things easier for a time.”

“As does alcohol. I used it for many years to escape all the feelings that overwhelmed me through that horrible storm of guilt and blame and grief after our parents’ death. God, the children’s faces!” He choked on the words and reached for the tissue box. “I was useless to them.” He choked with sobs for a time, then blotted his face and said, “So I used alcohol to manage the pain and remorse, until alcohol stopped working.”

“Think you’re an alcoholic, Justin?”

“Yes. I’ve known it for some time. I think I couldn’t say it without accepting that Josh was too. And now I’ve said it.”

Gwen offered a compassionate smile. “You’re in good company.”

“Or would be if I joined AA, you mean.”

“It wouldn’t hurt, you know. Perhaps you can start on that this week.”

“Is time up already?”

“Yes. Are you all right?”

He nodded. “Where would I find an AA meeting tonight?”

“Big Book Study at Phil’s, seven o’clock. He lives right next door, you know, still has the old house on the lake. Look for ‘Phillips’ at the start of his drive. Maybe I’ll see you there.”

“Will Gianessa be there?”

Gwen shook her head. “But Manda might.”

Justin’s smile broke through the gloom. “I could use a good dose of Manda tonight.”

Justin hung his coat on a peg in the foyer.

“Hey.” Manda smiled at the happy surprise and came out to greet him.

“Hey, yourself.”

“Did you need to see me?”

“I, uh, needed a meeting, and Gwen said there was one here and you might be, too.”

Manda searched his face, disbelieving and accepting at the same time. She stood up a little straighter and asked him, “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I belong here. I’m an alcoholic.” His eyes teared up and he forced a chuckle. “It took me about twenty-five years longer than you to know that about myself. Think it’s too late?”

Manda shook her head. “I think it’s about time. Does Joel know?”

“Probably. I think he’s been waiting for me to figure it out.”

“You need to cry, don’t you?” She flung her arms around Justin’s neck, and he hugged her to him like a lifeline.

“Yes, child, I need to weep.” He let the tears flow.

Manda cried, too, and held him like a brother. When her tears subsided, she snuffled and offered the same words of comfort and encouragement she’d heard in her early days of sobriety. “You’re home now. You don’t ever have to feel this bad again.”

Phil handed her a box of tissues. She pulled out a bunch for Justin and another for herself.

When Justin’s tears came to an end, Phil clapped him on the shoulder and held out his hand for a firm handshake. “Welcome, Justin. There’s coffee, tea, and cider in the kitchen and a lot of good cookies you probably can’t eat.”

Justin nodded, unable to trust his voice.

“We don’t usually have newcomers at this meeting, but tonight we’ll read out of order, from the very start of the Big Book. I think you’ll identify with what Dr. Silkworth had to say.”

Justin nodded again.

No one seemed to mind the drama in the foyer of Phil’s lakeside home. The meeting got underway in the usual manner.

Justin hung back. Manda put a glass of cider in his hand, and he gave her a smile. She grabbed his other hand and led him to the sofa by the big stone fireplace in Phil’s living room. He sat beside her.

Justin expected to feel out of place or under scrutiny. Instead, as he listened to the readings and discussion, he felt like he was among friends, as though he’d come into a room full of people who knew exactly what he’d been dealing with for the twenty or so years that he drank and the dry years since he stopped drinking. He let go of defenses that had stopped serving him a decade ago.

Near the end of the meeting, Phil asked in his gravelly voice, “Would you care to share with us, Justin?”

Justin opened his mouth, paused, and shook his head. “Thank you for— Thank you.”

Manda touched his hand and whispered, “Welcome.”

Her gesture and her voice invited Justin to look her in the eye. He smiled at the sparkle he saw there. Then, one by one, he made eye contact with the other eight people in the room. Each of them smiled back or waved or saluted with a coffee cup.

Gwen had joined them late, without his realizing it, and he saw tears in her eyes. She gave him a thumbs-up.

“Stay a minute and I’ll find you a meeting list,” Phil said. “We’ll close tonight with the Serenity Prayer.”

As the group spoke the words of the prayer, Justin focused on the phrase “courage to change.” How would he ever find the courage to make things right with Gianessa? Was it even possible?

Joel glanced at the phone lying beside his hand, then gazed a while longer at the lake, brilliant blue today with puffy white clouds scudding across the sky. He picked up the phone, set it down again, and watched the shadow of a big cloud cross the lawn and darken the lake on its passage toward the far shore.

He picked up the phone once more. Phil’s voice echoed in his head, as it had all morning.

“Just call him. You’ll know what to say.”

“Don’t you think we should meet with him together, all three of us?”

“You don’t need me in the mix, Joel.”

“Why are you so sure?”

“I can’t tell you. I just know. Call him.”

Joel hit speed-dial, and his uncle answered on the first ring.

“You’ll excuse me now,” he heard Justin say. Evidently he was in a meeting. Probably with the college administrators or with the attorneys.

It pleased Joel that Justin regarded his call as more important than business.

“I’m so glad you called, Joel.”

“Phil’s been on my case.”

“He told you I came to his meeting last night,” Justin guessed.

“What? No. What are you talking about?”
Phil’s meeting is closed. Only alcoholics are allowed to attend.

Justin had not answered his question, so Joel took a side step. “I just wanted to ask you about the apartment you’re renovating for Manda and me at 14 Lakeside Terrace.”

“Why don’t I show you how it’s coming?” Justin said heartily. “I’ll be by for you in, what?, fifteen minutes?”

“Good.” Joel snapped the phone closed and realized he’d done it all with this right hand. It was shaking, but not out of weakness. He smiled and went in search of his ebony-headed cane.

Justin held the car door for him.

“You could be an independently wealthy chauffeur,” Joel said, and Justin laughed. “Or a college president with impeccable manners.”

“President? I hope you don’t know something I don’t know.”

“Just saying you’re dressed for the part. Maybe you should consider it. I hear people are supporting your moves to save the college.”

“Thank you for saying that. Right now I want to talk about us.”

“What’s there to say?” He clicked the seatbelt, and they rolled ahead.

“A lot. I’ve been a huge ass, and I wouldn’t blame you for cutting me out of your life, starting with your wedding.”

“You know that’s not going to happen.”

“Thank you. I’m not sure I deserve that, but I’m grateful for it.”

Justin maneuvered the Saab down the drive of the Manse, onto the state highway and north toward the city limits of Tompkins Falls.

“I owe you much more than an apology, Joel. I want to know how to make things right between us.”

Joel sat stiffly and stared straight ahead. “You need to make things right with Gianessa.” His hands fiddled with the head of the cane.

“Yes, I do, and I mean to. But I also need to make things right with you.”

Joel nodded once. He stayed silent the rest of the way to Lakeside Terrace.

Even with the cane, it was difficult to negotiate the two stairs up to the porch. “A ramp would be helpful here. Maybe just a temporary that fits over the granite steps.”

“We’ll take care of it for you.”

Justin handed him the key to the front door. Joel tried it with his right hand and quickly switched to his left.”

“I’ll look into making that easier.”

Joel changed the subject. “We’re planning to honeymoon in our suite at the Manse, did Manda tell you?”

“No. It’s a good idea.”

“Ireland a year from fall. She’ll have graduated, and I want to climb some of those hills with her. Maybe kiss the Blarney Stone.”

Joel took a quick look at Justin’s face and saw a twinkle there.

“Say it, uncle.”

Justin held up his hands. “I wasn’t going to say anything about blarney or the gift of gab. You already have both, of course.”

Joel chuckled, “You kissed it when you were twelve, probably.”

“I never,” Justin blustered comically.

Time for the truth
. “You went to Phil’s Big Book meeting Wednesday?”

“Manda didn’t say anything?”

“Neither did Phil. It’s an anonymous program.”

“Yes, I went.”

“They let you into a closed meeting?”

“I’m an alcoholic.”

Joel waited a beat. “It’s about time you figured it out.”

Justin nodded. “Gwen is the right therapist for me.”

“Good.”

“I’m very grateful you made the suggestion.”