Chapter 23

MIKE

Iwoke up to Tammy's sweet form draped across my chest. Her pajamas barely contained her breasts, pressed up against me. The intoxicating swell of her hip drew my hand like a magnet. Thank goodness we had put the lie past us, and I was able to be my true self with her again. Now that it was over, I felt a weight had been lifted. Of course she was supportive—I had always known she would be. I conveniently forgot the heartache of deliberations and how convinced I had been that she would dump me for another man.

She was the perfect girlfriend, beautiful and supportive. I had never told anyone the whole story before. Porter already knew; I didn't have to tell him. I had only told parts of the truth to the police when I pointed the finger at the drug dealers. My cellmates and my parole officer only knew that I was doing my best to change my life around. Even my parents, though I had been open with them about my innocence, hadn't heard all of it. They didn't know I had fallen on my sword. They didn't know I was protecting anyone.

I remembered how frustrated my mom had become when I refused to give her any more information about my conviction. I realized then that hadn't been fair. Of course she was angry at me—she had a right to be. I had undergone a trial that no mother wishes on her baby boy, without any explanation. She was only drug testing me because I refused to explain what had happened, and she was worried. I saw it so clearly now, whereas just a few days ago, I couldn't see past my own anger.

I got up and got dressed, lamenting the fact that there was no time for lovemaking. I drove to work and stopped by my father's office before clocking in. He was there, going through some inventory reports, when I knocked on the door.

"Mike." He stood up to welcome me in.

I closed the door to give us privacy. "I have something to tell you."

My dad sat down, watching me with eyes wide as planets while I made my confession. I told him about Porter, without mentioning my friend's name. I explained why I had made the drug purchase and what I had thought I was going to do with it. I spoke about my relief at helping to put away the bad guys and my determination not to let anyone know about Porter's involvement. "He could be in serious trouble if anyone knew he was connected," I summed up my tale.

"You could be in serious trouble," Dad mused darkly.

I shook my head. "I'm fine. My identity in the whole thing was concealed. It was a condition of my cooperation."

Dad exhaled, finally looking up from the desk. "I'm proud of you, son. It is difficult for me, as your father." He paused to sort out his feelings. "I wish it hadn't been you or that there had been a different way for you to help your friend."

I held my tongue, letting him get it out. Knowing what I knew now, I still would have purchased the drugs. The important thing was that Porter was safe. I had done my time. I could pick up the pieces of my life like I had been doing for the past few months. I could put up with being treated poorly by everyone in town. Just knowing that Tammy was on my side gave me the strength to continue the fight.

"Shall we tell your mother together?" Dad asked, standing up.

I inhaled, steeling myself for the flood of emotion that was to come. "Alright."

We walked across the lumberyard and into the kitchen. We were both so somber, Mom knew immediately that something had happened. She sank down into a chair, watching each of us do the same. I told my story again, from front to back, leaving nothing out except the name of the friend I had rescued. If Mom guessed, and she probably did, she kept silent.

When I was finished, she put her head down on the table and cried. My dad and I converged on her, bending over to wrap her up in hugs. "I wish you had told me," she sobbed.

"I'm sorry." I sat back down, feeling like an ass. "I didn't tell anyone until Tammy last night. She said it wasn't fair to keep it from you."

"That's right," Mom snapped, wiping liquid from her eyes. "It wasn't fair. You shouldn't have stuck your neck out for that man—"

"Now, sweetheart," Dad cautioned.

"No!" Mom shouted, thumping her palm against the table. "He's ruined his life to rescue someone else. I have a right to be angry."

I nodded in agreement. "You do. And I'm sorry."

She sniffed, regaining her composure. "Well, I'll stop giving you those dreadful tests."

I laughed, tilting my head back in relief. "Thank you."

"I knew you weren't a drug dealer," she said, rewriting history. "When I tell the girls that you were falsely accused—"

"You can't tell anyone," I said. "I don't care what the ladies at church say about us. You have to keep my secret."

Mom shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

"Promise me," I insisted.

She heaved a great sigh. "I promise."

"And not like you promised not to tell Tammy." I narrowed my eyes at her. "You really can't tell anyone, or there could be ramifications."

"Like what?" Mom asked suspiciously.

"The people that I put away are bad people," I answered, leaving the rest for her to her imagination.

"I promise," she said more convincingly this time.

We had a group hug, and Dad and I went back to work. I clocked in late, but Dad said not to worry about it. I worked an extra hour at the other end of the day because I didn't want to pull the "son of the owner" card with my manager. I drove home to find Tammy had cooked dinner. It was corn on the cob with hamburgers, exactly what my belly was craving.

"This is really yummy," I said around mouthfuls.

She shrugged. "It's nothing special."

"How did you get home in time to cook?" I asked.

"You were late," she pointed out.

I nodded, accepting that explanation.

"So, did you tell your parents?"

"Yeah." I finished up and took my plate to the sink. "Thanks for encouraging me to do that. The only thing I'm worried about is my mom telling her church friends."

"Oh." Tammy gave me a worried glance. "She wouldn't do that, would she?"

I shrugged. "I thought she wasn't going to tell you, but she did. I think I didn't have a choice. I had no right to keep the story from her, and now I just have to trust that she'll do the right thing."

Tammy bussed her own plate and came to stand beside me, wrapping her arms around me. "You did the right thing. Both today and in the past."

I kissed the top of her head, letting one arm linger on her shoulders. "Have you reconsidered telling me what's going on?"

She pulled back instantly, as if stung. "Nothing's ‘going on.'"

I sighed. If I could tell her about the worst time in my life, surely, she could tell me whatever was eating at her? It was obviously bad enough to make her sick, or she wouldn't be so sensitive about what she ate. I considered myself a pretty understanding guy. Whatever she was holding on to would only get worse if she let it come between us. But it wasn't my call to make. I didn't want to argue, so I just let it go.