Page 23 of Delivery After Dark (Gansett Island #28)

A s he drove home from his job as the director of security at the Wayfarer, John Lawry was pissed off at the command performance demand his mother had levied on him.

He didn’t want to deal with a family dinner and intended to blow it off.

Yes, he felt guilty because she’d made his favorite meal, and he was well aware of why she’d done that.

He’d been keeping his distance from everyone lately, and of course, they’d noticed because that was how his family rolled.

Usually, he didn’t mind that, but sometimes a man wanted to be left alone—and this was one of those times.

As a fully grown adult, he shouldn’t have to explain himself to anyone, especially his mother, sisters and brothers, who’d been texting and calling him relentlessly, asking him what was wrong and what they could do to help.

He knew he ought to be grateful to have people in his life who cared.

It was just that right now, he wished they cared a little less than they did.

Was it too much to ask to be left alone?

Apparently so, because it wasn’t like his mother to demand the presence of any of her children, especially since she was now happily married to Charlie and living the kind of life she deserved with a man who worshipped her.

John was glad to have one less thing to worry about.

The years she’d spent alone with their father after the last of them left home had been hard on all seven of the Lawry kids.

Knowing she was safe and happy was a huge load off their minds.

The downside was having more mental and emotional energy to devote to his own life and the many ways he’d screwed it up lately, starting with the relationship he’d had with his ex-boss that’d blown up in his face, and now the thing he’d started with Niall that’d turned messy.

He’d known he was gay from the time he was about seven years old, and his monster of a father had tuned in to it around that same time, which had made his life a living hell as he set out to prove his father wrong about his suspicions.

“No son of mine is gonna live like that,” he’d say, along with other derogatory words that’d scarred John’s soul so deeply that he couldn’t function in a healthy relationship without that son of a bitch’s voice in his head ruining everything.

He should’ve known better than to get involved with Niall, who’d been unique from the start in the way he worked his way into John’s heart and mind one casual conversation at a time.

Nothing had ever been easier than it was with him, which was how it was supposed to be. At least that’s what he’d heard.

It’d been so easy that his heart was all in before his head caught up to remind him of how damaged he was by childhood trauma, by years of not being free to live his truth, by always looking over his shoulder, expecting his father to jump out of the bushes and say, “Aha! I always knew you were a fucking deviant.”

That was one of the general’s favorite words.

Deviant. “I expect my kids to toe the line,” he’d say in his big, booming voice that drowned out every other sound in the house.

To Johnny, he’d add, “If you think you’re going to live like some kind of deviant freak, you, my friend, are sadly mistaken. ”

John used to tremble for hours after one of his father’s homophobic outbursts.

One time, their father had punched Owen in the face for daring to tell him to leave Johnny alone when he’d been calling him a little wimp, which was another of the general’s favorite things to say to Johnny.

Seeing Owen hurt because of him had broken Johnny more than just about anything else, because Owen was always there for all of them.

He’d told Owen to never defend him again.

Owen had thought John was mad, but really, he was heartbroken to see Owen, whom he loved more than almost anyone, hurt for trying to help him.

As John pulled into the driveway at the palatial home his mother shared with the amazing Charlie Grandchamp, he realized his face was wet from tears he hadn’t realized were there.

He shouldn’t be surprised by them. Any time he thought about that shit from the past, his emotions overflowed, making him feel almost as helpless as he had then.

A knock on the window startled him. His former-cop sensibilities had deserted him after all this time on a small island where not much of anything happened—thankfully. He wiped his face and put down the window to talk to his stepfather.

“Are you okay?” Charlie asked.

“I guess.”

“Your mother is waiting for you.”

“I know.”

“Whatever it is, son, we’ll work it out, but you’ll never fix what’s wrong by running from it. Trust me on that.”

To his intense mortification, John broke down into sobs that came from the deepest part of him.

Charlie opened the door, reached in to release John’s seat belt and helped him out of the car and into his waiting arms. “Let it all out. It’s not healthy to keep these things bottled up.”

He sensed his mother approaching, but Charlie must’ve signaled her to give them a minute.

John tried to pull back. “I’m sorry.”

“Nah, we’re not doing that, Johnny. You’ve got nothing to be sorry about.”

“You don’t need me crying all over you.”

Charlie released him but stayed close as John wiped the tears from his face. “You know what I need? A wife who isn’t sick with worry over what’s going on with her precious son, because we can all see that it’s something, and we want to help.”

John shook his head. “It’s not that simple.”

“Nothing ever is but keeping it all to yourself won’t fix it. That much I can promise you. Every problem I ever had got easier to handle as soon as I shared it with someone who cares.”

John wanted to say thanks but no thanks, but how could he with this man who’d come into his life later, but who’d been more of a father to him than he’d ever had, standing before him, asking to help?

The way a good father would. More than anything, he didn’t want to disappoint that good man who’d come to mean so much to all of them.

“Okay,” John said as he allowed Charlie to usher him into the house, where his mother hovered anxiously.

“Let’s give him a minute,” Charlie said to Sarah, who nodded and put a beer on the table in front of the seat at the table that Charlie had guided him to. “That meatloaf sure smells good, honey.”

John’s stomach growled, and they all laughed.

Sarah gave John a kiss on the top of his head, the way she used to when he was little. “You always were a sucker for my meatloaf.”

The sweet gesture soothed the ache John carried with him everywhere he went.

While his father had been a monster, his mother was an angel who’d saved them from living in utter despair.

Some of his happiest childhood memories had been when his father was deployed for months, and they’d been alone with their mom.

She’d made everything fun, with things such as dinner in the living room in front of the TV, which would’ve been forbidden on the general’s watch.

His mother put a plate full of meatloaf, mashed potatoes and corn in front of him. “Thanks, Mom.”

“My pleasure, honey.”

Kelsey and Jeff, on crutches, came in to join them for dinner, and Charlie jumped up to help Jeff into a chair that had a pillow on it.

Even though Charlie had been in their lives for a while now, it was still remarkable to watch him continuously step up for the Lawry kids, as if he’d always been a part of them.

It occurred to John in that moment that if his mother could start over with a new, happy relationship after what the general had put her through, maybe he could, too.

When Jeff was settled, Charlie returned to his seat at the head of the table. “Thanks for dinner, honey. It’s delicious.”

“Oh, you’re welcome,” Sarah said, with a note of surprise in her voice. “I’m glad you like it.”

His father had never once thanked her for a meal she’d prepared, because he’d seen that as her duty to him and their family.

Charlie saw it as a gift she gave them all.

Kelsey whispered something to Jeff.

“No, thanks, babe. I’ve got it.”

Right here before him were two examples of true love at work among people who’d suffered through the same trauma he had.

Sure, it’d had different edges for each of them, but the end result had been the same.

His mom was happily settled into a whole new life with Charlie, Jeff had Kelsey, Julia had Deacon, Owen had Laura, Katie had Shane, Cindy had Jace…

Their brother Josh, the only one who didn’t live on Gansett, had started dating someone special recently, too.

They hadn’t let the past determine their futures.

Why couldn’t he have someone for himself, too?

John put down his fork and wiped his mouth with a napkin.

He felt the eyes of the other four on him, looking on with concern and bewilderment that made him feel bad for causing them to worry.

They’d all been through hell together and were on the other side of it with the general in prison.

While his siblings had done an admirable job of getting on with their lives, he was stuck in this strange limbo that was making him as miserable as he’d ever been.

“Are you okay, honey?” his mother asked in that tense tone that reminded him of a time he’d much rather forget.

“No, Mom, I’m not okay.”

Everything stopped as his family members waited for him to say more.

“Before Jeff got hurt, I was sort of seeing Niall.”

“Yes, we know,” Sarah said. “He seems like such a nice young man.”

“He is.”

“I love his Irish accent,” Kelsey said with a smile.

“I do, too.”

“Did something happen to upset you?” Jeff asked.

“Sort of, but it wasn’t his fault. It was mine.”

“How so?” Charlie asked.