Page 48 of Broken Halos
“You’ll share, or you’ll be sorry,” Esther warned with good humor.
“Where’s my lamb?” Millie asked when she entered the kitchen looking as fierce as any mother bear wanting to assure her cub was safe.
“Mama,” Ollie said, brightening up when she entered the kitchen closely followed by my mother. Ollie leaned over to give Millie a warm hug.
“Good morning, Mamma,” I said, opening my arms and hugging my mother. “To what do we owe this pleasure?” As if I didn’t know. Esther had called the troops last night and convinced them to give Ollie time to recover before they descended on him.
“You know why we’re here,” Millie said. “Oliver, I know the Lord wants me to forgive this sorry sap who’s showing up here today, and I will do my best. There’s also a slight possibility I will beat him over the head with my handbag.”
“You better not,” Ollie said, a crooked grin sliding up the right side of his face. “It feels like you carry around small boulders in it.” He kissed Millie on the cheek and added, “Besides, you’re better than that, Mama.”
“I’m not feeling like a good person right now, Oliver. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m getting there. All those years spent in therapy taught me to confront things instead of hiding from them. I sent a text to Drew last night and asked him to meet me this afternoon before the bowling tournament.”
“That’s a wise decision, Oliver. This meeting will most likely trigger emotions and urges that can wreak havoc on your soul. You are stronger than them, and Drew will help you realize it.”
“Is Drew your therapist?” I asked. I knew Ollie had been in therapy after leaving jail, but he hadn’t mentioned the therapist by name.
“No, he’s my NA sponsor. I should’ve told you last night that meeting with him today would be imperative to my well-being, but I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
“It’s okay, Ollie.” I reached for his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. I only wanted to help him regain control even if it meant I had to temporarily step aside for someone to give him the specialized support he needed. I understood he needed more than my willingness to listen and my bedrooms skills to get him through the confrontation he was about to face. “Whatever it takes.”
“Esther, your cinnamon rolls smell better than I remembered,” Mamma said, sniffing the air appreciatively. “I’ll help Esther set the table while you go upstairs and rally the guys down to eat breakfast while it’s still hot.”
“That’s right,” Esther said. “No sense in wasting daylight. Those who aren’t working need to be finding work.” She was such a tough nut, and I loved her to pieces.
I also knew Mamma and Esther wanted Ollie to have a few minutes alone with Millie, so I took my time heading upstairs to knock on the doors. Henry and Jeremy were the only two home at the moment, although Reggie would be returning home soon after working third shift.
When I returned downstairs with Henry and Jeremy in tow, the ladies and Ollie were already sitting around the dining room table waiting for us.
“Do any of you mind if I say grace?” Millie asked. No one objected, so she clasped her hands in front of her, lowered her head, and said, “Dear Lord, thank you for this bountiful food we’re about to put into our bodies. Let it give us the strength and fortitude to carry us through the challenges you put before us. May you send healing light and love to those who need it, wisdom to those in doubt, and please stay my hand when I want to knock the boy silly for hurting my baby. Dear Lord, the Bengals are playing Monday Night Football, and they need me. I can’t be locked up in a jail cell awaiting charges.” Ollie cleared his throat in a subtle reproach. “In your son’s name, we pray. Amen.”
“Amen,” everyone said then began digging in. The silence didn’t last long.
Jeremy, who sat across from me at the table, raised his brow and asked, “What did you do to Ollie?”
“Me?” I asked. “I didn’t do anything to him.”
“Who does his mama want to slap upside the head if not you?” he countered.
“Probably the jerk that was here yesterday. What was his name?” Henry asked.
“Ryder Jameson,” Jeremy said in an upper crust, stuffy voice.
“Esther told me about Ryder’s idea to host a benefit gala or something at The Cincinnati Art Museum as a fundraiser for Ryan’s Place. I didn’t know Ryder was even back in town,” Mamma said. I could tell by her tone she wasn’t pleased I’d left her in the dark. I just didn’t think it was newsworthy.
“I guess he’s been back for a month or so,” I told her. “On the scale of one to ten in importance, I’d rank Ryder’s return to Cincinnati as a negative ten.” I realized with all the excitement the previous evening, I hadn’t even told Ollie about Ryder’s visit. I turned to look at him, but he was busy shoveling a bite of hot, gooey cinnamon roll in his mouth. “You don’t look surprised. Why aren’t you surprised?”
Ollie washed down his pastry with a big gulp of milk then wiped his mouth. “I ran into the pompous windbag at Claire’s before I came over. He tried to trick me into thinking your meeting was of the personal variety.”
“I set him straight right away,” Esther said. “Even though it wasn’t my place,” she scrambled to add when she saw the scowl on my face.
“It’s a blessing I talked to Esther first,” Ollie told me, reaching over to wipe a smear of cinnamon icing from the corner of my mouth. “I knew Ryder was lying through his teeth, but I might’ve been caught off guard to find you in the shower after he implied he’d just left your bedroom.”
“What a dick,” Henry said.
“That’s a low blow,” Jeremy added.