Broken (The Raiford Chronicles #3 Book 1) Read online

  "Kyle," said Ray, "look at me. If you ask a man to date his daughter, you should look him in the eye."

  Kyle looked up at Ray who observed, "You look just like Robert."

  "But I don't wanna be like him," he mumbled.

  "I know you don't. You know, Robert wasn't all bad. Try to remember the good things."

  "I just can't seem to think of any good things, Mr. Reynolds."

  "Kyle, I'm about to do something that fool of a father of yours should've done every day. Don't misinterpret it." Ray pulled Kyle into an embrace. He could feel the boy's silent sobs, and the shoulder of Ray's shirt was soaked.

  "Why, Mr. Reynolds?" wept Kyle. "Why didn't he love me? I even kept his secret for him. Am I really that awful and unlovable?'

  "Kyle, it's not you. Robert just didn't know how to show love. Don't blame yourself. When Parker came here, he had never felt loved. Look at him now. Your mother loves you so much. Saul Blackwell is a good man. Give him the chance to be a father to you. Do you remember what I told you at your father's funeral?"

  The boy nodded. "You're my godfather."

  "Kyle, I'll always be your friend. Think of me as 'Uncle Ray.'"

  "What about the horrible thing I did to Neely?"

  "She's forgiven you. I'm not holding your past against you. It's time you forgave yourself."

  "I'm trying, but it's hard." He took a deep shuddering breath and backhanded the tears from his cheeks. "Neely gave me a Celtic guardian like yours, but she put in place of that hideous serpent."

  "A good choice. Kyle, do you wanna go out with Courtney?"

  "Yes. She accepts me."

  "Then, I have two requirements before you go out with her."

  "What?"

  "Put away your crush on Neely."

  "I'm trying to do that, too. Maybe if I have a real girlfriend, she'll only be a nice lady who cares about me."

  "That actually makes sense. Think of her as 'Aunt Neely.' I promise a crush on your aunt just doesn't work. Oh, and you know, ten years from now, if you actually fall for that pigheaded, stubborn, opinionated chatterbox over there, Neely will be your aunt."

  Kyle scowled. "Okay. That sort of does make her less attractive. On the other hand, Courtney is quite pretty."

  "Is that so? I suppose. She does look a lot like her mother with my eyes and hair."

  Kyle smiled. "Dr. Reynolds is very attractive, too."

  "Oh, butter me up." Ray hooked an arm around Kyle's neck.

  "So, what's the other thing?"

  "Move forward and never look back."

  "Will you actually let me take Courtney on a date?"

  "Yes." Ray scowled. "I lied. There's one other condition."

  "Uh-oh."

  "She'd better be able to wear white on her wedding day."

  "Whew! I can live with that. I'm glad I didn't vomit."

  "Why?"

  "She said I couldn't have a kiss if I vomited."

  Kyle's walk back to the table where Courtney now talked to his sister was much lighter than the one away from it had been. Ray watched the little version of Robert LaFontaine strut across the room. The boy did not look back. Ray's heart told him the person inside was nothing like the package he resembled, and he was glad. On the other hand, he decided, it's time for Courtney's trip to the toolbox. I don't care what Kyle says.

  24

  God with Skin

  The second anniversary of Chris's death came without fanfare. Raif made his pilgrimage to Chris's grave. This year he talked as he planted a gardenia. "Hello, love. This year I've brought you something special, a gardenia. It was always your favorite scent. It's timeless and evergreen, like you.

  "Chris, when you told me to follow my feet, did you know they would take me to Neely? Did you send me there so I could love again? I do love her, Chris. She's not as strong and self-sufficient as you. She needs me. She makes me feel alive, Chris. You would love her. Now, isn't that a crazy thing to say?" Raif packed the dirt around the roots and watered the plant. He sat down beside the gardenia and rested his arms on his knees.

  "I have another precious Christine. Pap and Neely and Uncle Patrick are going for a visit next week. Trista and Townes are doing great. It appears they really do love each other. I heard you fussing at me. I needed it.

  "Patrick is the one who needs to find a woman, although Ray did tell me he has a female roommate. He hasn't said a word. He's probably afraid I'll lecture him about living in sin, and I would." He held up a hand. "I know—back off. I'm not going to interfere.

  "Dupree won a Grammy. Of course, Lindsay's taking all the credit as his promoter. She doesn't mean it, but she teases him that without her, he'd still be in Eau Boueuse. Their kids are super, but I think Lucy is trouble waiting to happen. Ray is a grandfather. I caught him looking at his gray hairs." He laughed out loud before he sobered and sighed.

  "We caught the bastard who shot you, sweetheart. Should I feel bad about wanting him to get the death penalty? I don't, Chris. He's also responsible for the horrible things that happened to Neely. He used Kyle LaFontaine to do his dirty work.

  "Chris, she hasn't said a word about a baby. I know she wants to be a mother. I think we should adopt, but I'm hesitant to suggest it. Of course, if we wait too long, agencies will reject us because of my age. I don't feel old, especially when I'm with Neely. I'm healthy, but that means very little to bureaucrats. What should I do?"

  As the year before, a whisper wafted on the wind. "Wait for her and believe in miracles. There are three awaiting a miracle. You must be their God with skin."

  As Raif drove home, he said aloud to himself, "I don't think I'll tell Ray about this one. I really am hearing Chris's voice."

  The Gautiers pulled into the driveway of the small government-furnished house on the Navy base in Norfolk, Virginia. Trista burst out the screen door. Her neighbors watched the young woman's lack of decorum.

  "Dad!" Trista squealed as she jumped into Raif's arms and locked her feet at the ankles around his waist the way she had done since she was a little girl.

  Two of her neighbors commented to each other, "My dad doesn't look like that."

  "Mine either."

  After Trista released her grip on Raif, she hugged her brother and Neely. Then, she ushered everyone into the house where Christine played in a playpen.

  "She's crawling everywhere and getting into everything," laughed Trista. "I have to confine her frequently."

  Raif dropped the luggage in the floor and picked up his granddaughter. "You're supposed to get into everything. That's your job. Do it well," he said, planting a kiss on her cheek.

  "Dad! Don't encourage her," Trista scolded.

  "What? That's my job. I'm supposed to spoil her rotten and then give her back to you. The two weeks you spent every summer with Dorothy Reynolds—whew! They were murder. I had to retrain you every year."

  Neely could not help but laugh. Trista looked at her stepmother. She latched her arms around Neely's tattoo. "Neely, dear, come into the kitchen with me. We have a lot of catching up to do. Dad, you and Neely get the extra bed. Christine's crib is in with us, so you'll know which room it is. Patrick, sorry, but you get the sleeper sofa. You gents can take the luggage somewhere." She dragged Neely toward the kitchen. "Oh, there's only one bathroom," she flung over her shoulder.

  Trista poured two glasses of lemonade and plopped onto one of the two bar stools at the counter which separated the kitchen from the small dining area. "Okay, to catch up. First, what Dad needs is another kid. Have you talked to him about adopting?"

  "No. Honestly, I've been praying for a miracle. Is that selfish?"

  "No, not really. It's understandable." She sipped her lemonade. "There's this lady in the little church we go to. The doctors told her she'd never have children. So, they adopted multiple races and special needs children. She said that minorities and older children are often overlooked. They have a Native American, an African American, an Asian, and a child with Down's. None of them were babies
when they adopted them, but they were unwanted. I've often heard older children are hard to place, and she confirmed that when we talked."

  Trista sighed. "My mom used to tell us that we have to help others. God uses us to be His skin—'God with skin,' is what she said." She swiveled on the stool. "This couple has proven to be God with skin. They helped a teenager who got pregnant and had to give up the baby. They paid for everything and got a newborn. They gave miracles to five, six if you count the teenager, children. Now, she's seven and a half months pregnant." Trista took a long swig of lemonade.

  "Wow!" said Neely. "That's a big family."

  "Yeah. They're Navy, too, but you should see the love in that family. They made miracles happen, and now she has her miracle. She's forty, so they won't have any more, but they're amazing. You said on the phone that the old gypsy told you to believe in miracles. Maybe that means being the miracle, being God's skin." She popped the lid off the cookie jar beside her and grabbed a chocolate chip cookie. Neely took one also.

  "You've already been Dad's miracle," Trista said around a bite of cookie. "You made him alive, Neely. From what you've told me in our conversations, you've already served as God's skin for Kyle LaFontaine, too." She shook her head. "I can't believe you so easily forgave him."

  "It wasn't easy. It took every ounce of control I could muster the first time I saw him not the fly into a rage and just beat the stew out of him. But he was used and so contrite. He was a child in need."

  "Neely, Dad would give his right arm to have a baby with you. He knows the probability. He won't say anything. He would never want to hurt you. But he would be ecstatic if you told him you'd like to adopt a child, even if it's not a baby. Let's face it. Dad's gorgeous, and he does not look fifty-two, but he is. Agencies take that into account. If you wait too long, they'll reject him just because of a number. Talk to him, but keep praying."

  Neely stirred her lemonade with her fingertip. "You're so pragmatic. Do you get that from your mom?"

  "Yep. Mom was a realist, and she fell in love with the world's biggest idealist. Dad has been through so much hell that I don't even understand how he survives."

  "He has an indomitable spirit. I'll talk to him, Trista. Will we be going to church tomorrow?"

  "If y'all aren't too tired."

  "No. I'd like to meet this family. Then, I'll have something to point out to Raif."

  The next day at church, the pastor preached from Matthew 25:40: "And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, 'Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.'" He made a cross-reference to the fatherless in James 1:27 and focused on war and how many children are affected. His final passage to read was Romans 12:1 and he went on to talk about how the congregation gave of itself physically to meet the needs of the community.

  Raif could only recall the words of Chris's ghost. He mumbled, "God with skin." He thought about the times he had worked with Habitat for Humanity, about how Larkin tutored at an after-school program for underprivileged children, about Ray coaching Little League baseball and softball, about the time Chris had given to work with Big Brothers/Big Sisters, Parker and Motocross for kids. He released a long sigh.

  Neely cocked her head at the phrase, but said nothing.

  After the service, Neely and Raif met the DeLanceys and their brood. Vincent and Norma were phenomenal. Vincent was an admiral, and Norma had never been anything but a wife and mother—her highest calling, she said. Raif watched them with admiration and stole glances at Neely. At least, he thought they were stolen.

  After lunch, Trista forced Raif to relinquish Christine. "Little Miss Spoiled Rotten needs a nap, Pap."

  "Trista, I want to get her a puppy."

  "Dad!"

  "Y'all had Sunbeam."

  "True, and she was wonderful, but this is a military base. Let Townes and me do that when we're in a real, settled home. Or you can do it when we're in a real, settled home. When Townes's four years are up, we're coming home. He's already taking some engineering courses. When we get home, he's planning to get a degree in engineering. He can come to work for you. And I can manage your accounts when I finish my online degree in accounting." She grunted. "Nobody will steal from me." Trista kissed Raif's cheek. "I need a nap, too. Kids wear you out." She wiggled her eyebrows at Neely. Trista whispered something to Townes.

  He scowled lightly, but responded. "Hey, Patrick, how would you like to check out the gym? We have some hot female naval officers." He spoke loudly enough for Trista to hear.

  "So long as Patrick's doing the looking," she called from the bedroom.

  Patrick and Townes left, but only to use the pool. Raif looked curiously at Neely. "Tact has never been her strong suit. What's up?"

  "I'd like to talk to you about something."

  "Okay, but you look too serious."

  "Well, the DeLanceys inspired me."

  "How so?"

  "Raif, how would you feel about adopting a child? It wouldn't even have to be a baby. I'm not sure I could be as strong as the DeLanceys and go other races or special needs, but older would be okay."

  Raif took Neely's hand. "Did Trista put you up to this?"

  "Yes and no. We've talked about it because of my situation. She says you would be agreeable, and she encouraged me to talk to you. After all, you were adopted."

  "Yes, I was as a little baby."

  "Still, you've always known. Older kids get left behind. Now, I don't know if I'm ready for a teenager, but under ten."

  "Are you serious?"

  "Yes, Trista told me about Chris's 'God with skin' belief. You said that under your breath during worship. Would that just come to you and me? Yes, I'm serious. Why do you ask?"

  "Well, I'd like to. I've been reluctant to ask you because I didn't want to upset you. My age could be a factor." Do I dare tell her what Chris's voice said?

  "I know. That's another reason an older child might be easier to get."

  Raif studied Neely's face. "Okay. When we get home, I'll make some calls. I have a few friends who might be able to help us. Pierre has a wonderful show lined up for you. When you get back, we'll start the paperwork." Okay, Chris, I'm listening.

  25

  A King and His Court

  The visit with Trista came to an end far too fast for Raif and Neely, but not fast enough for Patrick. The Gautiers got home in time for Patrick to get back to Tulane and the second half of summer classes and for Neely to fly to New York for a weekend show.

  After Raif saw Neely off, he drove to The Children's Village, a facility for children who for some reason were without parental care. It was supervised by Mother Superior Mary Alex Samuels who had been transferred from Catholic Charity Hospital after she helped Raiford Reynolds find his brother.

  She greeted Raif warmly. "Raiford Gautier! Have you come to cause me more trouble?"

  "Have I ever caused you trouble, Mother Superior?" Raif hugged the white-haired, wrinkled old nun.

  "No, I suppose that was Ray. The Bishop thought sending me here was punishment. He was wrong. It's the best job I ever had." She sighed. "Although it often makes me wish I had become a mother rather than a mother superior. And I suppose you and Ray have redeemed yourselves well with those generous donations every quarter.

  "Now, how are you after all the sadness?" She placed her hand on his forearm. "It broke my heart to hear about your Chris. I'm sorry I couldn't get to Eau Boueuse."

  "I'm happy. My new wife brings me great joy. She's actually why I'm here."

  "How can I help you and your new wife?" She patted a bench for them to sit.

  "As you might know, Neely is the victim who survived the brutal attacks in New Orleans.

  An age-spotted hand flew to her lips. "No. I had no idea."

  "Yes, ma'am. As a result of the attack on her, she can't have children. We would like to adopt a child, and it doesn't have to be a baby."

  "I see," said Mother Mary Alex, her eyes squin
ting as if she were trying to see something at a distance. "I've been wondering why you've been on my mind. Now, I think I know. You understand how important it is to keep siblings together. Would you be willing to take more than one, and one is almost a baby—thirteen months is still a baby?"

  "More than one?" Three await a miracle. Chris's words echoed through his thoughts. He stood and walked to the beveled glass door to stare at the waning sun. A long moment passed before he said, "We haven't discussed that possibility. We were a little more concerned about my age."

  "How old are you now, Raif—thirty-nine and holding? Your age makes no difference to me—as long as you receive a clean bill of health and a satisfactory psychological evaluation. But I have three little girls, five, three, and thirteen months, and they should not be separated. I could've placed the baby a dozen times, but I haven't found anyone who wants all three. They've been here for six months."

  Three. He released an anticipatory breath. "What's their story, Mother Mary Alex?"

  "Their mother was a prostitute." She held up a hand when Raif cocked an eyebrow. "This time that is absolutely the truth. I would never lie to you, Raif. I saw what that did to you and Ray."

  "Thank you. I'd like to know everything I can about them before I even broach the subject to Neely."

  "Of course. Well, the girls have different fathers, and their mother had no idea who any of them were. Because she was Catholic, she didn't abort any of them. She came in six months ago and brought the girls. She had been diagnosed with AIDS. She spent three months in hospice care before she died. All the girls have been screened for AIDS and any other STD. They're healthy."

  The woman's wrinkled face turned down in a deep frown. "Raif, I will tell you the eldest may have been molested. There was no evidence of penetration when the girls were examined, so it may be that she has just seen way too much for a child of five. The child psychiatrist couldn't even draw a specific conclusion. You should be aware that she's frightened of men and the main reason why several couples refused to take all the girls.