“No,” she whispered, “I wasn’t. If I were, you wouldn’t come here as much as you do.”

“Mom, what are you talking about?”

“You know,” she answered, drawing a deep breath before going on. “When you hit bad patches in your life, you don’t turn to me, you don’t turn to friends. You come here. No matter what the question or the problem, you always come to the decision that you’re better off alone, just like you are now.”

She stared at him almost as if seeing a stranger.

“Can’t you see why that hurts me? I can’t help but think how sad it must be for you to live your life without people-people who could offer you support or simply lend an ear when you need it. And it’s all because of me.”

“No-”

She didn’t let him finish, refusing to listen to his protests. Looking toward the horizon, she seemed lost in the past.

“When your father died, I was so caught up in my own sadness that I ignored how hard it was for you. I tried to be everything for you, but because of that, I didn’t have time for myself. I didn’t teach you how wonderful it is to love someone and have them love you back.”

“Sure you did,” he said.

She fixed him with a look of inexpressible sorrow. “Then why are you alone?”

“You don’t have to worry about me, okay?” he muttered, almost to himself.

“Of course I do,” she said weakly. “I’m your mother.”

Judy moved from her knees to a sitting position on the ground. Taylor did the same and reached out his hand. She took it willingly and they sat in silence, a light wind moving the trees around them.

“Your father and I had a wonderful relationship,” she finally whispered.

“I know-”

“No, let me finish, okay? I may not have been the mother that you needed back then, but I’m going to try now.” She squeezed his hand. “Your father made me happy, Taylor. He was the best person that I ever knew. I remember the first time he ever spoke to me. I was on my way home from school and I’d stopped to get an ice-cream cone. He came in the store right behind me. I knew who he was, of course-Edenton was even smaller than it is now. I was in the third grade, and after getting my ice-cream cone, I bumped into someone and dropped it. That was my last nickel, and I got so upset that your father bought me a new one. I think I fell in love with him right there. Well . . . as time went on, I never did get him out of my system. We dated in high school, and after that we got married, and never once did I ever regret it.”

She stopped there, and Taylor let go of her hand before slipping his arm around her.

“I know you loved Dad,” he said with difficulty.

“That wasn’t my point. My point is that even now, I don’t regret it.”

He looked at her, uncomprehending. Judy met his gaze, her eyes suddenly fierce.

“Even if I knew what would eventually happen to your father, I would have married him. Even if I’d known that we’d only be together for eleven years, I wouldn’t have traded those eleven years for anything. Can you understand that? Yes, it would have been wonderful to have grown old together, but that doesn’t mean I regret the time we spent together. Loving someone and having them love you back is the most precious thing in the world. It’s what made it possible for me to go on, but you don’t seem to realize that. Even when love is right there in front of you, you choose to turn away from it. You’re alone because you want to be.”

Taylor rubbed his fingers together, his mind growing numb again.

“I know,” Judy went on with fatigue in her voice, “that you feel responsible for your father’s death. All my life I’ve tried to help you understand that you shouldn’t, that it was a horrible accident. You were just a child. You didn’t know what was going to happen any more than I did, but no matter how many ways I tried to say it, you still believed you were at fault. And because of that, you’ve shut yourself off from the world. I don’t know why . . . maybe you don’t think you deserve to be happy, maybe you’re afraid that if you finally allow yourself to love someone, you’d be admitting that you weren’t responsible . . . maybe you’re afraid of leaving your own family behind. I don’t know what it is, but all those things are wrong. I can’t think of another way to tell you.”

Taylor didn’t respond, and Judy sighed when she realized he wasn’t going to.

“This summer, when I saw you with Kyle, do you know what I thought? I thought about how much you looked like your father. He was always good with kids, just like you. I remember how you used to tag along behind him, everywhere he went. Just the way you used to look at him always made me smile. It was an expression of awe and hero worship. I’d forgotten about that until I saw Kyle when you were with him. He looked at you in exactly the same way. I’ll bet you miss him.”

Taylor nodded reluctantly.

“Is that because you were trying to give him what you thought you missed growing up, or is it because you like him?”

Taylor considered the question before answering.

“I like him. He’s a great kid.”

Judy met his eyes. “Do you miss Denise, too?”

Yeah, I do. . . .

Taylor shifted uncomfortably. “That’s over now, Mom,” he said.

She hesitated. “Are you sure?”

Taylor nodded, and Judy leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder.

“That’s a shame, Taylor,” she whispered. “She was perfect for you.”

They sat without speaking for the next few minutes, until a light autumn shower began to fall, forcing them back to the parking lot. Taylor opened her door, and Judy got in the front seat. After closing the door, he pressed his hands against the glass, feeling the cool drops on his fingertips. Judy smiled sadly at her son, then pulled away, leaving Taylor standing in the rain.

He’d lost everything.

He knew that as he left the cemetery and began the short trip home. He drove past a row of old Victorian houses that looked gloomy in the soft hazy sunlight, through ankle-deep puddles in the middle of the road, his wipers flashing back and forth with rhythmic regularity. He continued through downtown, and as he passed the commercial landmarks he’d known since childhood, his thoughts were drawn irresistibly to Denise.

She was perfect for you.

He finally admitted to himself that despite Mitch’s death, despite everything, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. Like an apparition, her image had flashed through his mind over and over, but he’d forced it away with stubborn resolve. Now, though, it was impossible. With startling clarity he saw her expression as he’d fixed her cupboard doors, he heard her laughter echo across the porch, he could smell the faint scent of her shampoo in her hair. She was here with him . . . and yet she wasn’t. Nor would she ever be again. The realization made him feel emptier than he’d ever felt before.

Denise . . .

As he drove along, the explanations he’d made to himself-and to her-suddenly rang hollow. What had come over him? Yes, he’d been pulling away. Despite the denials, Denise had been right about that. Why, he wondered, had he let himself? Was it for the reasons his mother had said?

I didn’t teach you how wonderful it is to love someone and have them love you back. . . .

Taylor shook his head, suddenly unsure of every decision he’d ever made. Was his mother right? If his father hadn’t died, would he have acted the same way over the years? Thinking back to Valerie or Lori-would he have married them? Maybe, he thought, uncertainly, but probably not. There were other things wrong with the relationships, and he couldn’t honestly say that he’d ever really loved either of them.

But Denise?

His throat tightened as he remembered the first night they’d made love. As much as he wanted to deny it, he knew now that he’d been in love with her, with everything about her. So why, then, hadn’t he told her so? And more important, why had he forcibly ignored his own feelings in order to pull away?

You’re alone because you want to be. . . .

Was that it? Did he really want to face the future alone? Without Mitch-and soon Melissa-who else did he have? His mother and . . . and . . . The list trailed off. After her, there was no one. Is that what he really wanted? An empty house, a world without friends, a world without someone who cared about him? A world where he avoided love at all costs?

In the truck, rain splashed against the windshield as if driving that thought home, and for the first time in his life, he knew he was-and had been-lying to himself.

In his daze, snatches of other conversations began to replay themselves in his mind.

Mitch warning him: Don’t screw it up this time. . . .

Melissa teasing: So are you gonna marry this wonderful girl or what? . . .

Denise, in all her luminous beauty: We all need companionship. . . .

His response?

I don’t need anyone. . . .

It was a lie. His entire life had been a lie, and his lies had led to a reality that was suddenly impossible to fathom. Mitch was gone, Melissa was gone, Denise was gone, Kyle was gone . . . he’d lost it all. His lies had become reality.

Everyone is gone.

The realization made Taylor grip the steering wheel hard, fighting to keep control. He pulled the truck to the side of the road and slipped the stick shift into neutral, his vision blurring.

I’m alone. . . .

He clung to the steering wheel as the rain poured down around him, wondering how on earth he’d let it happen.

Chapter 27

Denise pulled into the drive, tired from her shift. The steady rain had kept business slow all night. There’d been just enough to keep her constantly moving, but not enough to make decent tips. More or less a wasted evening, but on the bright side, she’d been able to leave a little early, and Kyle hadn’t stirred as she’d loaded him into the car. He’d become used to curling up around her on the ride home over the past few months, but now that she had her own car again (hurray!), she had to buckle him into the backseat. Last night he’d fussed so much that he hadn’t been able to fall asleep again for a couple of hours.