Read Online The Forgiving Hour by Robin Lee Hatcher - Free Book Online
Authors: Robin Lee Hatcher
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out like him.”
“At least Mr. Kreizenbeck knows how to be nice to Mrs. Kreizenbeck and his kids. It wouldn’t hurt you to be nice to Mom once in a while.”
Claire leaned over to pour Dave another cup of coffee, cutting off his view of their son and hoping it would stop the snowballing argument. It didn’t work.
Dave stood and stepped around her, his body rigid, his voice level rising. “Don’t you talk back to me, Mikey Porter. You hear me?”
“Don’t you call me Mikey,” the boy shouted in reply. “I hate it.”
“I’ll call you whatever I want.” He grabbed his son by the shoulders and gave him a rough shake. “Now, you apologize to me for mouthing off like that.”
Instead of obeying, Mike thrust out his chin and leanedforward, fists clenched at his sides. “I won’t. I’m not sorry. You’re always making Mom cry. Why do you have to do that? How come you can’t be nice to her? She’s the best mom in the world.”
Dave shoved Mike away from him, then spun toward Claire. “You’ve made a mama’s boy out of him.”
“That’s not fair,” she protested. “I haven’t —”
He muttered a curse, then stormed past her. The back door opened … and slammed closed. Less than a minute later, the truck roared to life and pulled out of the driveway.
An oppressive silence filled the kitchen.
“I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to make him mad at you. I just —”
“It isn’t your fault, honey.” She sank onto a chair with a sigh, fighting the threat of tears. She was tired of crying.
“He is mean to you, and I hate him for it.”
“Oh, Mike …”
“It’s true. He’s grouchy all the time, and he makes you cry, and he never does anything with us. And I don’t care that he doesn’t. Who wants to be with him? Not me.”
She wondered what she could say to change his mind about his father. Maybe Dave was right. Maybe this was her fault. She’d let their son see her unhappiness, let him feel her tension. She’d let him see her tears. She should have sheltered him from it. He was only twelve years old. He couldn’t begin to understand the complexities of a marriage, the ups and downs, the ebb and flow of life that affected every couple.
“Your dad’s just going through a difficult time.” The excuse tasted like sawdust on her tongue.
“But he shouldn’t take it out on you.”
How simple life was for the young. Things were either black or white, right or wrong.
Mike stepped forward and put his arms around her, as if he were the adult and she the child. “Don’t feel bad. I’m here.”
It took all her internal fortitude not to crumble at his brave words.
A horn honked, announcing the arrival of the Kreizenbeck family. “There’s your ride.”
“Why don’t you come with us, Mom? You’d like church.”
“Not today. Another time maybe.”
“I should stay with you.”
“No.” She put on a smile. “You go on. I have a lot to get done this morning.” She gave him a hug. “And don’t you worry about your dad and me. When he gets home, we’ll talk it all out and things will be fine. Just like it used to be. I promise. You’ll see.”
His blue eyes — so like his dad’s and yet so different — called her a liar.
Another beep of the horn broke the silence between them.
Claire gave him a gentle shove. “Hurry up now, or you’ll make everyone late.”
Sara was both surprised and delighted to see Dave when she opened the door. She hadn’t expected him until Monday night.
He leaned his shoulder against the doorjamb, looking moody and charming at the same time. “Hi.”
As usual, her pulse quickened at the sound of his voice. “Hi.”
“I’m going for a drive in the mountains. Up to Lowman. Maybe as far as Stanley. Care to come along?”
“I’d love to.”
“Good. Let’s go.”
It became quickly apparent, as Dave drove his truck up Highway 21, that he hadn’t invited Sara along for the scintillating conversation. She tried more than once to
“At least Mr. Kreizenbeck knows how to be nice to Mrs. Kreizenbeck and his kids. It wouldn’t hurt you to be nice to Mom once in a while.”
Claire leaned over to pour Dave another cup of coffee, cutting off his view of their son and hoping it would stop the snowballing argument. It didn’t work.
Dave stood and stepped around her, his body rigid, his voice level rising. “Don’t you talk back to me, Mikey Porter. You hear me?”
“Don’t you call me Mikey,” the boy shouted in reply. “I hate it.”
“I’ll call you whatever I want.” He grabbed his son by the shoulders and gave him a rough shake. “Now, you apologize to me for mouthing off like that.”
Instead of obeying, Mike thrust out his chin and leanedforward, fists clenched at his sides. “I won’t. I’m not sorry. You’re always making Mom cry. Why do you have to do that? How come you can’t be nice to her? She’s the best mom in the world.”
Dave shoved Mike away from him, then spun toward Claire. “You’ve made a mama’s boy out of him.”
“That’s not fair,” she protested. “I haven’t —”
He muttered a curse, then stormed past her. The back door opened … and slammed closed. Less than a minute later, the truck roared to life and pulled out of the driveway.
An oppressive silence filled the kitchen.
“I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to make him mad at you. I just —”
“It isn’t your fault, honey.” She sank onto a chair with a sigh, fighting the threat of tears. She was tired of crying.
“He is mean to you, and I hate him for it.”
“Oh, Mike …”
“It’s true. He’s grouchy all the time, and he makes you cry, and he never does anything with us. And I don’t care that he doesn’t. Who wants to be with him? Not me.”
She wondered what she could say to change his mind about his father. Maybe Dave was right. Maybe this was her fault. She’d let their son see her unhappiness, let him feel her tension. She’d let him see her tears. She should have sheltered him from it. He was only twelve years old. He couldn’t begin to understand the complexities of a marriage, the ups and downs, the ebb and flow of life that affected every couple.
“Your dad’s just going through a difficult time.” The excuse tasted like sawdust on her tongue.
“But he shouldn’t take it out on you.”
How simple life was for the young. Things were either black or white, right or wrong.
Mike stepped forward and put his arms around her, as if he were the adult and she the child. “Don’t feel bad. I’m here.”
It took all her internal fortitude not to crumble at his brave words.
A horn honked, announcing the arrival of the Kreizenbeck family. “There’s your ride.”
“Why don’t you come with us, Mom? You’d like church.”
“Not today. Another time maybe.”
“I should stay with you.”
“No.” She put on a smile. “You go on. I have a lot to get done this morning.” She gave him a hug. “And don’t you worry about your dad and me. When he gets home, we’ll talk it all out and things will be fine. Just like it used to be. I promise. You’ll see.”
His blue eyes — so like his dad’s and yet so different — called her a liar.
Another beep of the horn broke the silence between them.
Claire gave him a gentle shove. “Hurry up now, or you’ll make everyone late.”
Sara was both surprised and delighted to see Dave when she opened the door. She hadn’t expected him until Monday night.
He leaned his shoulder against the doorjamb, looking moody and charming at the same time. “Hi.”
As usual, her pulse quickened at the sound of his voice. “Hi.”
“I’m going for a drive in the mountains. Up to Lowman. Maybe as far as Stanley. Care to come along?”
“I’d love to.”
“Good. Let’s go.”
It became quickly apparent, as Dave drove his truck up Highway 21, that he hadn’t invited Sara along for the scintillating conversation. She tried more than once to
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