“You like him? Think he’s a good kid?” Godfrey sounded so eager, I felt sorry for him. But I was more concerned with Justin’s reactions to all this. Would he be able to cope with another father in his life?
“Yes, I do. He’s a nice, intelligent young man.” Behind me, Diesel added his opinion, emitting a few trills and chirps. He knew whom we were discussing. “He’s a son you can be proud to acknowledge.”
“Thank you, Charlie,” Godfrey said. “You have no idea what that means to me.” He sounded pathetically grateful, and I sympathized.
“When will you talk to him?”
“I’m supposed to meet Julia for lunch,” Godfrey said. He checked his watch. “If she can get away from Misery, that is. I still can’t believe she married that guy.”
“Misery” was an old nickname for Ezra Wardlaw. He was several years older than Godfrey, Julia, and I, and by the time we were in high school, Ezra already had a reputation as a fire-and-brimstone Evangelical preacher.
“I was in Texas by the time they got married,” I said. “The last time we had heard from her, she was dating Rick Tackett and it sounded pretty serious.” I had forgotten about that until now. Funny how things popped back into the memory sometimes.
“Rick Tackett?” Godfrey’s tone was sharp. “How do you know that?”
“We came to spend Christmas with Aunt Dottie around then, and we ran into Julia and Rick somewhere. At the grocery store, I think.” I paused. “You know him?”
“Yeah, I know him,” Godfrey said, but it didn’t sound like he cared much for him.
“Anyway, that’s why I was so surprised when I heard she married Ezra.”
Godfrey stared down at his hands. “Guess that’s my fault. I spent a few months here, about nineteen years ago, doing research for one of my early books. We spent some time together. I’d divorced my first wife, and Julia seemed to be on her own.”
“Seemed to be?”
“She was attending Ezra’s church, and they had been dating. But while I was here she didn’t see much of him.” He squirmed in the chair, his eyes still cast downward. “I had no idea I’d gotten her pregnant. I finished my research and went back to California.”
I’d bet there was more to the story than Godfrey told me. I got the feeling he lied about not knowing about Julia’s pregnancy.
“You left, and she married Ezra Wardlaw.” I watched him, wondering if he would look at me. “And she never got in touch with you to let you know she about Justin?”
Godfrey shifted in his chair again. “No, she didn’t.”
This behavior convinced me he was lying, but I wouldn’t call him on it. What would be the point?
“Why are you telling me all this?” I said.
Examining his hands again, Godfrey said, “You’re the only old friend I have in Athena—besides Julia, of course—and my son is living in your house. I thought you should know, since I’ll be in town for a while, hoping I can get to know my son.”
His only “old friend”? I almost laughed at that. Considering our history in high school and college, Godfrey had to be pretty desperate to call me his friend. After the way he treated me, I shouldn’t even be talking to him.
Even though he was still a jerk, I couldn’t, in good conscience, turn my back on him. As a father, I could sympathize with his situation.
“I’ll do what I can,” I told him.
His face brightened.
“But you need to keep in mind that Justin is in his first semester of college. He’s facing a lot of stress as it is, and you need to be careful about adding more.”
“I understand,” Godfrey said. “I just want to be a part of his life, if he’ll let me.” He leaned back in his chair. “But I’d really like to take him to California with me for a while. We could get to know each other, he could have a little fun—which we both know he hasn’t had with Misery in the picture. Maybe take off for Europe, if he’d like that.”
Protesting would do no good, I realized. Julia would be horrified if she heard this, because I knew she wouldn’t want Justin that far away from her. But they would have to work this out themselves. It was none of my business.
Diesel jumped down from the window and walked over to Godfrey’s chair. He sat up on his hind legs and stretched out one of his front legs, resting his paw on Godfrey’s knee. Godfrey stared down at Diesel in surprise.
“He does that sometimes,” I said. “He seems to sense people’s feelings, and he tries to comfort them.”
“Thank you, buddy,” Godfrey said, his voice soft as he touched Diesel’s paw lightly with his hand.
Diesel muttered, withdrew his paw, and went back to his window.
Godfrey shook his head. “I’ve got to put him in a book. That was freaky.”
“Diesel is a special cat.” I smiled and reached for a piece of scrap paper. Picking up a pen, I jotted down my telephone number. “Call me and let me know when you’ll be coming by the house, okay?”
Godfrey accepted the paper. “Thanks, Charlie. I’ve got another appointment before I meet Julia for lunch.” He stood.
I stood too and accepted the hand he proffered. “Good luck. I hope things work out for you with Justin.”
Godfrey thanked me again, and I watched as he strode out of the room.
“What a mess,” I said.
I didn’t realize I had spoken the words until I felt Diesel’s paw on my shoulder. When I turned to face him, Diesel gazed at me, his head cocked a bit to the right. It was uncanny, the things this cat seemed to understand. “Yes, it’s a messy situation. Poor Justin.” I shook my head. “Poor Godfrey, poor Julia, and even poor Ezra.”
Diesel trilled a couple of times.
“Somehow I think we’ll be in the middle of it, too. With Justin in our house, there’s no way to avoid it.”
Diesel chirped.
“We’ll support Justin any way we can.” I spoke with more assurance than I felt. “If he wants our help, that is.” I couldn’t believe I was saying such things. What had happened to my resolve to steer away from emotional complications?
I stared at my cat as if he could answer that for me. Diesel blinked slowly before settling back down to nap.
For a few minutes, I thought about what had just occurred in my office. Godfrey started out as I remembered him—cocksure, swaggering, self-involved. His manner changed, though, his self-assurance seemingly gone when he told me about Justin. Perhaps having a son humbled him.
But there was more to it. The way he squirmed when talking about Julia. He lied to me about that. He had been lying to himself for years. He knew all along Julia was pregnant, but for whatever reason he hadn’t been willing to acknowledge it. Until now. Why? I wondered. Maybe hitting fifty had done it.
I turned to my computer. All this speculation gave me a headache. I needed to focus on work and forget about distractions.
I managed to keep myself busy until lunchtime, continuing with my cataloging. Around eleven-thirty I put down my pencil, set my computer to standby, and stood.
“Come on, boy.” I rubbed Diesel’s head. “Let’s go home for lunch.”
A few minutes later, Diesel and I were heading for home. The temperature had risen a few degrees, but the weather remained pleasantly cool. Being back in northern Mississippi, where there were actually four seasons a year, made a welcome change from Houston with its two seasons. Summer and not-summer, as I liked to call them.
As I inserted my key in the front door, I heard voices inside. Loud voices, full of anger.
I opened the door, Diesel on my heels.
Ezra Wardlaw stood in the living room, shaking a finger at Justin. The boy sat, head bowed, on the sofa. They were so involved in their argument, they paid no attention to Diesel and me.
“. . . get your things right now. You’re coming home.” Ezra’s face was so red I thought he might stroke out.