Chapter Thirteen

Phoebe

"Sweetheart, you already know the answer. You don't need me to tell you anything."

Father Dominic was right.

While we didn't believe in the same things, one thing held true between us both—that life tested us, and it was how we weathered the storm that decided our outcome.

"He won't forgive himself, Father."

"That's his cross to bear. Yours is to give him time."

"How much more time does he need? It's been ten years already."

"However much time he needs, Phoebe. You both suffered the loss of a child, and Shaw took that weight of what happened on his shoulders. He feels responsible. Until he realizes it's not his fault, he's going to keep you at arm's length. Many parents who lose a child never find their way back to each other. I think it's a testament to both of your resolves that you two are still married. That tells me, while the pain is still real and always will be, the love you two share is binding. The covenant you two made before God is still strong. Trust that God will see you through this."

"You know I don't believe in God like Shaw does."

"I know." Father Dominic grinned. "Whether you believe in fate, the universe, Mother Earth, or God. It's all the same, sweetheart. It's the belief in something greater than yourself. And I believe your belief in each other is the greatest of all. Don't give up on him just yet. God works in mysterious ways, and I know he's not done with you two yet."

I smirked at that. "Just like fate always has a plan."

"Exactly."

"You know my mother would have apoplexy if she knew I was in a church talking with a priest."

Father Dominic laughed. "And the heavens would rejoice if Stevie ever stepped inside my house. I must say, it's been a long time since I've seen her. How is she?"

"Good. She is still giving Dad a run for his money. They will have been married for thirty-five years this September."

"I am so happy to hear that. And your sisters?"

I chuckled. "Whipping up a brew that's sure to set New Orleans on fire."

Father Dominic threw his head back and laughed heartily.

"Dimeter is married now, and he is expecting his first child."

Smiling warmly, he added, "Today truly is a blessing. I can't thank you enough for coming to see me. Even I need to hear good news once in a while."

"Is everything okay?"

Father Dominic stood. "It's nothing. I'm just worried about one of my parishioners. I haven't seen him in a while and that worries me."

"Anyone I know?"

"No." Father Dominic shook his head. "Just someone who's come to mean a lot to me. He will show up, eventually. He always does. Now, I'm not sure Ms. Gladys is still here, but Ivy should be."

"I haven't met Ivy yet."

"Oh, you are going to love her. She is something else. That's for sure."

Intrigued, I followed Father Dominic toward the rectory where his office was and where Ms. Gladys worked. Walking into her office, I saw a beautiful young woman wearing headphones as she bobbed her head to whatever she was listening to, unaware that we were watching.

"Ivy? IVY!" Father Dominic shouted, getting the woman's attention.

"Jesus Christ, man, wear a bell next time!"

Father Dominic frowned, rolling his eyes as he shook his head. "Maybe if you turned down the music, you would have heard me. And do I need to remind you that you are in a house of God, young lady. One more time, Ivy, and you will be helping Gladys with Sunday School."

The young woman huffed.

"Now, Ivy, this is Phoebe Dalton. A good friend of mine. She went to school with your brother Michael before he joined the military."

"Cool!" the pretty woman smiled, extending her arm. "Nice to meet you."

Taking her hand in mine, a cool breeze blew around me, chilling me to the bone. My reaction was not lost on the young woman as she frowned, removing her hand from mine.

"Uh, Gladys isn't here, and I've got to get going," she said carefully, keeping her eyes on me as she picked up a backpack. "Was going to wait, but I can't. Father Dom, can you tell her that I'll call her in a few days?"

"Where are you going, Ivy?"

"Gonna go see Mikie in California."

"Gladys will not be happy you didn't wait to say goodbye."

"I know, but I've got to get out of here," she blurted. "It was nice to meet you, Phoebe."

With that, the young woman left. Watching her leave, something odd caught my attention. On the upper right-hand side of her back, near her shoulder, was a trident. From what I could see of it, it looked to have been burned into her skin.

"Who was that girl?" I whispered, as she disappeared from view.

"A lost soul. Michael found her living on the streets. She was only sixteen at the time. Girl couldn't read or write. But Gladys took one look at her and kept her. Ivy's been a handful ever since. In constant trouble with the law, but Gladys refuses to give up on her. She didn't have the best childhood, but Gladys made sure she got her GED and taught her how to drive."

"She's running."

Father Dominic nodded. "She never stays in one place very long."

"No, Father. She's scared. She is running from something, and if she isn't careful, it will catch up with her."

After leaving a message with Gladys, saying I would try to stop by tomorrow, I headed home. The ominous chilly feeling still inhabited my body when I walked into Malpas House. Unable to shake the feeling, I headed straight for the pool house where Shaw was.

"Shaw?" I called out when I didn't see him. "Shaw, are you here?"

Looking around the small house, I stopped when my eyes landed on the coffee table. I saw hundreds of photos displaying heinous atrocities. Gasping, my hand trembled, picking a photo up as tears streamed down my face. It was a little girl. But before I could get a good look at her, he smacked the photo out of my hand and forcefully turned me to face him.

"What the hell are you doing, Phoebe?"

I stammered, unable to form a word as images of her little, broken body bombarded my mind.

"Jesus Christ," he growled, pulling me close, holding me tight. "You should have never seen those."

"She was so young."

"I know," he muttered, walking me away from the coffee table and the photos.

"Who would do something like that?"

"A very sick person."

Shaking my head, I sniffed, wiping my eyes.

Looking up at Shaw, I said, "I came by to ask if you would like to get something to eat with me tonight. We can go to that Italian restaurant you like."

Shaw frowned, taking a step back. "I don't think that's a good idea, Phoebe."

"Why not? We both have to eat, right?"

"I called Scribe. I told him to file the paperwork."

What?

I had to have heard him wrong.

Shaking my head, I took a step back. "No. You promised me."

"It's time, Phoebe. You deserve to find happiness. You won't get that with me."

"Don't you dare tell me what I deserve, Shaw!" I screamed, unable to hold back any longer. For years, I'd held my tongue, kept quiet when I wanted to speak but didn't because everyone told me he needed time to deal with his grief.

Well, I was done waiting.

"I deserved a great many things, but that never happened, did it? How dare you make that decision without me? You had no right!"

"I had every right!" he yelled back. "I'm tired of seeing you live a half-life. You need to move on. We both do!"

"You mean you!" I screamed. "You want to start over with someone else because I can't give you what you want!"

"That has nothing to do with my decision," he sneered, balling his hand into a fist.

"The hell it doesn't," I countered, refusing to relent. "I waited ten years for you to come to your senses, but you refuse to move on. You are not the only one who lost him, Shaw. I did too!"

He growled. "Shut up, Phoebe."

"I've been silent long enough. If you insist on this, then you are going to stand there and listen to me. Adam was my son, too. I loved him too. I miss him every day. Sometimes the pain hurts so badly, I can barely breathe! He was my baby too and we lost him. I don't blame you, Shaw. I never did. I blame that monster who took him from us."

"ENOUGH!" Shaw roared, making me jump. "I won't do this with you. I've made my decision and it's final. Now get out!"

"You want me gone?" I sneered, stiffening my shoulders. "You got it. I'm gone!"

Running from the pool house, I ignored the looks on my parents' faces as I raced out of the house, hailing a cab.

I didn't know where I was going, but I knew where I wasn't wanted.