8. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

Allen

“There you go—your very first library card! How neat is that? Are you ready to go pick out some books?”

The small child on the other side of the desk smiled and nodded, her bright blue eyes full of excitement. Allen’s heart felt as full as ever, and he glanced briefly up at Tina, their neighbor and friend who also coordinated outings for a local homeschool group. Tina gave him a small, knowing grin and knelt down next to the girl.

“You said kittens and dragons, right?” Tina said, and when the girl nodded again, Tina looked back up at Allen.

“I know just the right books,” Allen told her, and he stood up, ignoring the soreness in his muscles from the previous morning’s hike. “Follow me, and we’ll see what we can find.”

The next fifteen minutes were spent ushering a few children around the library and directing them to find books that would interest them at their reading level. Kittens and dragons for Kiera, monster trucks for Dylan, unicorns for Sara and Silas, and superheroes for Finn. The group was smaller than normal, but no less enthusiastic, and Allen felt a mixture of relief and joy at seeing new faces—like Kiera, who was visiting the library for the first time.

When everyone had checked out their books, Allen handed out special bookmarks to each of them, and the children all gathered around, their arms loaded with books, happy and smiling. Allen let his gaze drift over the small group, and he felt a tightness in his chest.

They almost hadn’t come today—the whole group. Allen and Annabeth had worked hard Tuesday and Wednesday to rally Tina to try and convince the parents to let their children come. It wasn’t that there was doubt about the safety of the library. Not really. Just that many of the parents wanted to push the gathering back a week or two to sort of let the dust settle.

But Allen had needed this today as much as he knew the children did, and he’d been elated when Tina had called him yesterday evening to confirm the group’s visit, especially knowing what he still had going on later in the afternoon.

“Thank you for coming to visit, friends. I hope to see you all again next week!” Allen said cheerfully, pushing away his uneasy thoughts as he waved goodbye to the group. But once Tina had ushered them all out the door and the library was quiet again, Allen had to work a little harder to not struggle. He busied himself with tidying up, and Annabeth kept him company, as though she knew how tenuous his good mood was.

When three o’clock finally came, Allen said his goodbyes to Annabeth, pocketed his cell phone, and headed out. He wasn’t surprised to find Greg already waiting for him at the bottom of the steps outside.

“How was your day, darling?” Greg asked as Allen came down the stairs to meet him .

Allen tried to speak, to tell Greg that he’d in fact had a pretty good day, but his words failed him at the moment. When he didn’t respond, Greg just reached out and took his hand.

“You’re strong and brave for doing this,” Greg said, and he led them over to where his SUV was parked just a few feet away. “And remember, you don’t have to do this. We can leave at any time. You don’t have to say anything to them, and if it’s too much, we can cancel, or—”

Allen stopped and shook his head. “Don’t let me do that. I need to go, even if it’s hard. Please, Greg. It’ll be better for those boys if I let them say what they’ve planned, and...” He trailed off when he felt Greg squeeze his hand.

They’d talked about all of this the day before, and he’d explained his position to Greg then. And although Greg hadn’t said anything, Allen could tell Greg didn’t quite agree with his viewpoint. He didn’t blame Greg—he knew his position left him vulnerable. But he felt strongly enough that he was doing the right thing, even though his husband didn’t share his conviction.

“I want to show them kindness and forgiveness, Greg,” Allen said quietly. “I really believe it’s the only way this will have a positive impact on their lives.”

“I know, darling... I just worry about you.”

Greg reached out ahead of them to open the passenger side door, and Allen blinked and looked down at the ground again, trying to convince himself it was okay for Greg to worry about him. It was difficult though, not to let the guilt rise up like it wanted to so often lately. He took a deep breath and nodded.

“I know, and I’m trying really hard to just be strong because I really, really believe this. It’s going to be very hard, but I’m the adult here, and they’re just kids, and if adults can’t show kindness to them, how are they going to learn to have more kindness themselves? ”

These weren’t new thoughts, but he had to repeat them now. He had to remind himself of why he’d made the decision so he could get through the next however long without completely breaking down.

“You’re right. You’re absolutely right, and I’m behind you one hundred percent,” Greg said, his expression softening.

Allen just nodded weakly and let Greg help him into the SUV. A few minutes later, they were on the road, heading up Snoqualmie-North Bend Road toward the police station in neighboring Snoqualmie. The drive was short, only about ten minutes, but it felt much longer to Allen as he stared out the window and tried not to worry more. The sun shone brightly overhead, and outside looked peaceful as always, the mostly rural-ish area set in a low valley between the mountains.

Greg reached over and took his hand, and Allen pulled his gaze away from outside to turn to his husband. Greg was still watching the road ahead, but he lifted Allen’s hand up to his mouth and placed a gentle kiss on Allen’s knuckles.

“You’ll be okay. And I’ll be there with you the whole time, and if you need to lean on me, please do.” Greg’s voice was quiet and full of sincerity and concern, and Allen let himself believe it. Not that he doubted the words—he always believed Greg’s words. But he also needed to let himself believe that Greg actually wanted to be here with him and really did support him and that, despite the fact that his husband had a different view, he wasn’t going to resent Allen for standing up for his own beliefs about how this needed to go.

Greg pulled his hand away to turn into the parking lot at the police station, and Allen took the moment as Greg was finding a parking spot in the small lot to close his eyes and try to let his mind settle .

He’d recognized one of the three other cars already in the lot as belonging to David Johnston—the father of one of the teens—and suddenly everything seemed more real.

He didn’t even realize he was shaking until Greg reached over and put his hand on Allen’s. “You can do this, darling. I’ll be there for you. Are you ready?”

No, he wasn’t. But he had to be. This was how it needed to go.

He nodded. “Yeah. I’m ready.”

***

The two teenagers stood together with their parents near a desk just off to the right as Allen walked ahead of Greg into the building. Right away, Allen could see they looked remorseful—their shoulders hunched and their hands shoved in their pockets. And although everyone else seemed to turn to him as soon as he walked through the door, both boys continued to stare at their feet, unmoving. Allen forced himself not to lower his own gaze when the boys’ parents looked at him, and instead, he gave a tight smile.

Sheriff Mike, whom Greg and Allen had known for decades, met them near the front door, his expression serious but welcoming.

“Thank you both for coming. I realize it wasn’t an easy decision,” Mike said, and Allen nodded slightly. He felt Greg’s hand slip into his, and the familiar touch was comforting. Mike cleared his throat and spoke quietly. “Both boys have written letters for you, but I think those are for you to read later. Jan has them, and she’ll give them to you when you leave. And Allen, I know you said you didn’t want to press charges, but they were both arraigned this morning, both pleaded guilty to vandalism and destruction of public property. Judge Hawthorn took your statement into consideration, Allen, and gave them a whole lot of community service hours. Their parents had to pay sizable fines as well.”

Allen had known or assumed most of that already from earlier communications with the sheriff, but he nodded as Mike explained, trying to keep himself focused and calm. Greg squeezed his hand gently, a silent reminder of his support, and Mike gave Allen and Greg a small nod.

“Ready, Allen?” Mike asked.

“Yeah.” Allen’s voice sounded hoarse to his own ears, but he forced a smile and let Mike lead them the rest of the way into the bullpen, over toward where the boys stood with their parents.

Allen recognized all of them—David and Sue Johnston with their son, Owen, and Pete and Heather Tanner with their son, Christopher. Next to them was Cheryl, one of the deputy sheriffs, who gave Allen a kind smile and nod as they approached. The two boys still didn’t look up.

David stepped forward first, offering his hand. Allen tried to steady himself as he reached out and shook David’s hand, but he could feel that he was still trembling.

“Mr. Westin, I know my son will have his own apology to make,” David started, “but I’d like to say, on behalf of my wife and I, that we are deeply, deeply sorry for Owen’s actions. We raised him to be a respectful young man, and he failed you and the whole community.”

Pete nodded in agreement and put his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “Christopher too. We’re appalled and disappointed that this happened, and—” Pete cut himself off, his face turning red with anger as his eyes shifted to his son.

Allen pursed his lips, holding his breath for a second while he gathered his courage. The boys both seemed to shrink more, both frowning, both looking as uncomfortable as Allen felt. There were no hints even of the hate and bravado they’d both had on Sunday afternoon. And neither of them looked the least bit threatening.

“Sometimes...” Allen paused as both boys looked up at him. Owen seemed as though he was close to tears, and Christopher’s expression held an anxiety that Allen was all too familiar with. Allen shook his head gently and gave the boys a smile, which seemed to come easier than he’d expected. “Sometimes,” he started again, “people make mistakes. Sometimes they’re just little mistakes that don’t mean much, and sometimes they’re big mistakes that have... massive repercussions or are... harmful.”

Greg’s hand squeezed his again, and Allen returned the gesture, then he blinked and let himself look down for a moment.

“Your actions were harmful, both in terms of property damage and—and to me, personally,” Allen continued, keeping his eyes down still. “I don’t know if either of you understand just how much. And I hope you never have to experience my side of this.”

He finally looked back up, and both boys were watching him still. In fact, he could feel everyone’s eyes on him. He let out a shuddering breath and then smiled at them again.

“I don’t know what led to your decision that day, and I don’t need to know. But I hope”—his breath hitched as Christopher sniffled and then reached up to wipe a tear from his cheek—“both of you take the time to think about your actions and how they affect others. And I hope both of you realize that anger and hatred shouldn’t have a place in how you interact with others and the world.”

From next to him, he sensed Greg nodding, and the boys’ parents were also nodding.

Allen took a deep breath to steady himself. His chest felt tight as he looked from Christopher to Owen, and he tipped his head to them as he blinked back his own emotions, which were strong and intense and even a little unbalancing .

“I forgive you,” he said to Christopher, and he stepped away from Greg and offered the boy his hand. Christopher hesitated for a second, biting at his lower lip, but then he reached out and shook Allen’s hand.

“Th-thank you, sir,” the boy said.

Allen nodded and turned to Owen. “I forgive you,” he repeated, and again, he offered Owen his hand. Owen’s tears fell freely now, and he sniffled, swiped at his cheeks, then wiped his hand on his pants before shaking Allen’s hand.

“Thank you, Mr. Westin,” Owen said. He couldn’t quite look at Allen, and he shoved his hands back into his pockets and stubbed his shoe into the floor. “I—I was the one who filmed it, and it was my idea, and I just—it was a shitty thing to do and—”

“Owen!” his mom, Sue, interrupted, and Owen flinched.

“Sorry, Mom. It—it was a mean thing to do. And it was stupid of us. I don’t really know why we did it, and I—I’m sorry, sir. I’m really, really sorry.”

Christopher nodded. “Me too, Mr. Westin. I’m sorry. I-I mean, we both knew it was wrong, and we shouldn’t have done it. And—and...” The boy was visibly shaking now, and Allen had to look away.

He shifted just slightly so he was standing a little closer to Greg, needing to feel his husband’s warmth, and Greg took his hand again. Allen lifted his eyes once more to the boys and their parents, and he managed another tight smile.

“I accept your apology. Thank you. Both of you,” Allen said, not surprised when he heard several of the other adults inhale sharply. The boys, for their part, both held his gaze, and he could see the regret and remorse in their eyes. “I accept your apology, and I forgive you both. And I... expect that you will both come to volunteer at the library as part of your community service hours.” He glanced at Sheriff Mike, who nodded, and then back at the boys.

“Thank you, sir,” they both said in unison.

Allen bit his lip, struggling this time to hold back all the things he was feeling. He nodded again and turned to Greg. “Let’s go,” he said quietly. Then he looked up at Mike and Cheryl and managed another “thank you” before tilting his head to the boys’ parents.

Without another word, Greg then led him back out toward the entrance. Allen was barely aware when they paused at the front desk for the receptionist, Jan, to hand Greg a couple of envelopes—the boys’ letters they’d written him, he supposed. A short moment later, they were at the SUV. As he had earlier at the library, Greg stepped ahead of Allen and opened up the door.

Before he got in, Allen paused and closed his eyes. Greg’s hand came to rest on his upper back, rubbing gently.

“Are you okay, darling?” Greg asked, his voice quiet.

Allen didn’t answer right away because he wasn’t sure what the answer was. He’d said what he’d needed to say, and he’d even surprised himself with feeling in control most of the time. But now, the tightness in his chest seemed to become more uncomfortable, and he leaned into Greg, who shifted to wrap his arms fully around Allen.

With a deep, shuddering breath, Allen rested his head against Greg’s shoulder. “I-I don’t really know yet. But, um, take me home. Please?”

“Of course.”

Allen’s strength was gone, and he let Greg help him into the SUV. Then he leaned his head back against the headrest, closed his eyes, and didn’t hold back as his tears finally fell.