Songs for Cricket by Laine, E. (best books to read in your 20s TXT) 📗

here to make hell with the university’s administration, and that wouldn’t help me.

“Well, we knew that was a possibility. You are a freshman. But I miss you, and you’ll be in Texas.”

Southern Texas is where a bunch of colleges were located.

“Mom, that’s further away than coming to my game here next week.” I held my breath, hoping she’d accept my excuse.

“Fine, but don’t forget who’s your biggest cheerleader.”

She always had been. She’d done everything she could to make up for Dad’s failing, including working three jobs just so I could have the things I needed for football or my musical aspirations.

“I know you are,” I said.

The silence that lingered was disconcerting. “There is another reason for my call,” she said hesitantly.

From the somberness of her tone, I was sure she’d somehow found out about me being forced out of school. Though it didn’t make sense considering she’d asked about my game unless she was giving me a chance to come clean. Had the university informed Mom of the situation though technically I was an adult?

She continued in my silence. “I got another letter for you from your dad.”

It wasn’t welcome news.

“I don’t want it,” I spat.

That was the last thing I needed right now, a reminder of who fathered me.

“I know,” she said in that understanding and patient way of hers. “But I’ll keep it with the others. One day you might change your mind.”

“I won’t.” Hate coated my words with poison.

He’d turned out to be a modern day Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. The man I’d grown up loving, who had been there for me, coaching me in sports, being a Cub Scout leader, and teaching me how to be a man, turned out to be the worst kind of monster.

“Shepard—”

“How was he caught?”

I’d been around eleven when the police had come around asking questions about a missing woman who’d temporarily worked in Dad’s office. He’d been a labeled a handsome and charismatic man, well-regarded as the top dentist in our community. But when things started to heat up, beginning with the police searching our house and every room in it including mine, Mom had stopped turning on the news.

It was the summer before my eighth-grade year when he’d been found guilty. That was when we’d lost the big house next door to the Farrows due to an unpaid mortgage thanks to Dad, and Mom moved us to Grandma’s trailer park in a different school district.

She blew out a breath. “Women were speaking out who had worked in his office. He had such a revolving door. Anyway, they began telling their stories of how he’d . . . hurt them. They were going to get him on that alone. But the woman he’d taken and hidden away at your grandparent’s property he’d inherited, was the clincher.”

“How did they find her?”

At the time, Mom had given me a child-appropriate, watered-down version of Dad’s arrest and subsequent conviction. I’d never asked more. Though over time, I’d heard bits and pieces. I’d just tried to move on and not remember the false man and how he’d so thoroughly obliterated our lives. But now, these answers had become important, and she had firsthand knowledge no news report could give.

She swallowed audibly. “She’d been kept in a shipping container converted into a tiny home. He’d had one of those on the property and had chained her foot to something in the loft area. I don’t remember what. He’d left a window open. There was a highway not terribly far off, but her screams wouldn’t have been heard. She’d apparently been desperate enough to hang by her foot to reach the two burner cook top. They say she used a pillow to light a fire in hopes to bring help. It didn’t come in time.”

“How did they connect her to Dad?”

There had to be more. Anyone could have stashed her away there, though he’d be the primary suspect.

“Everything burned inside.” She didn’t have to add more. “But she’d been pregnant, and there was enough DNA left for them to determine he’d been the father.”

That was news to me. I’d had a sister or a brother.

“Shepard—”

She’d sounded like she’d wanted to apologize on his behalf. I stopped her.

“Don’t try to explain it away.”

“I’m not. He’s a monster. I accept that. But even if no one else, maybe not even me, he loved you.”

Mom had testified against him, still our community crucified her for not knowing. They gave me a pass because I’d been too young. On the opposite side of town, it had been the reverse.

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?” I snapped.

“No,” she said, sounding defeated. “I guess not.”

“If you had to do it all over again, would you give up your dreams and marry him?”

She didn’t even hesitate. “Yes.”

“Why?”

Mom was tenderhearted and a romantic, you could hear it in the songs she wrote. She’d given up her opportunity to be a star when Dad strolled into that bar and saw her singing on the small stage. He’d used his looks and charms to convince her he’d give her the world if she married him. Look how that had turned out.

“Because you are the best thing I’ve ever done in my life. I would relive it many times over as long as I had you.”

She may have thought her words were kind, and they were. But for me, it added more guilt. If I’d never been born, she might have lived a better life.

“I love you.” I paused. “I have to go.”

“Shepard, wait, there’s one more thing.”

I wasn’t sure how much more bad news I could take.

“What?”

“I’ve met someone.” She quickly added, “Not recently, but I didn’t want to tell you about him until I was sure. His name is Hank, and I’m hoping you’ll let me bring him to one of your games so you can meet him.”

I’d known Mom dated, but she’d never introduced me to anyone before.

“Is he good to you?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“Then you don’t need my approval.”

She tried to