“Chamomile sounds great, Lynette. Thanks.”
“What about you, Mr. Police Chief? Coffee?”
Mike nodded. “Thanks.”
A few minutes later, they each had their drinks and Lynette had disappeared into the back.
Cara wrapped her hand around her cup, closed her eyes, and sighed, clearly savoring the warmth, making Mike glad he’d pushed the issue and brought her here.
After giving her a few minutes of silence, he broached conversation. “So.”
Her eyes popped open. “What?” she asked warily. “Do you want to know how often my father drinks? Loses his temper? Throws things? Hits people?”
Instead of making him angry, her defensive tone melted his heart. “I don’t want to know anything you don’t want to tell me, Cara. I just wanted to give you a few minutes to calm down before you drove home.”
“Oh.” Her eyelashes fluttered down. “I’m sorry. I’m just—”
“Embarrassed,” he finished for her.
“Yeah.”
“Well, there’s no need
to be. I’m not judging you by your father’s actions or your mother’s behavior,” he assured her.
“What about judging me for not going in and checking on my mother?” She held herself tight and stiff, backing herself into the corner, as far from him as she could get.
Which wasn’t far. He stretched his arm behind the seat, reaching her hair. Grateful to have some part of her to touch, he wound a strand around his fingers. “Why would I judge you for that?”
She exhaled a long breath, and some of the starch left her shoulders. “I’ve done all I can for her. If I go in, if I beg her to leave, if I make him angrier, all I’m doing is enabling the entire screwed-up situation.” Frustrated tears filled her eyes, and she wiped them away with the back of her hand.
He knew better than to comment about those. “There’s no need to defend yourself to me. You’re talking to someone whose genetics are questionable at best,” he said, bringing up the subject he abhorred. “My real father walked out, never to be heard from again.”
Mike sure as hell wasn’t enough to make the man want to stick around. Nor was he enough for the rest of his family. He’d always figured they were better off without him there.
“And pretty soon you and I are about to investigate something that my gut tells me will end badly for my whole family. So don’t expect me to pass judgment. I’m here, I’ll listen, but I’m sure as hell not going to look down on you for any choices you make.” He paused, then admitted, “Frankly, I think you’re doing the right thing.”
“Really?” She looked up at him, her eyes so moist and big, and he realized how fragile she was deep down inside.
“Yeah, really.” Then, not giving her a choice, he pulled her back beside him. “It takes more guts to stay away knowing someone’s hurting. But sometimes there’s nothing you can do.”
She nodded. “That’s just it. I can’t help her unless she wants help. I can’t fix the situation unless she changes it.”
“Was it always like this?” he asked, hoping the one question didn’t send her into full retreat.
“It’s always been a roller coaster. The lows depended on whether he was holding down a job. If things were good, he’d manage his liquor. If something went wrong, it was everyone else’s fault and he’d dive into the booze. The more he drank, the louder and uglier it became at home.”
Now that Cara knew Mike wasn’t judging, she seemed more willing to open up to him, for which he was grateful. But one question hovered in his mind, begging to be voiced, one he wasn’t sure she’d want him to ask.
He shouldn’t. And yet he couldn’t not. “Did he…did your father ever…”
“Hit me?” She finished the question for him.
“Yeah.” His voice sounded harsh, gruff to his own ears.
“No.”
Mike released the breath he’d been holding.