Page 98 of Night Moves
Willow’s chin quivered, and she sucked in a breath and let it out. “What about my dad?”
“I don’t know many details about that, but he will go to prison too because he covered up what your mom did. I don’t know how long he’ll be there.”
She bit her lip. “What happens to us?”
“I’ll find you a home where you can stay until your dad is able to care for you again.” Natalie wasn’t sure that he would ever be able to be a good father, but it was a possibility at this point.
“No! I don’t want to.” Willow’s expressive eyes implored Natalie. “Can’t we stay with you? Or with Drake?”
“We aren’t in a place to take care of three children right now.”
“Please.” Willow grabbed Natalie’s hand. “I’ll be really good. I won’t make a mess. And I’ll help with the little kids.”
Natalie wanted to cave, to take on these children. To keep them under her wing and raise them. But she couldn’t. It might work out for a short while, but things would gradually fall apart. Natalie wasn’t prepared to be a parent. She’d seen it happen and knew where it would lead, no matter her effort to be the best parent possible. No matter good intentions, if a person didn’t have the right resources, the situation would collapse, and the children would end up more emotionally damaged than before.
She firmed her shoulders. “I’m sorry, sweetie, but I can’t.”
Willow jumped up and ran to Drake. She put her arms around him. “Please, can we stay with you? Please.”
Muscles in Drake’s face tightened, and his eyes filled with anguish. He was suffering, too, and Natalie wished he didn’t have to go through this. But then, as he’d pointed out not more than an hour before, God would bring Drake through. Didn’t mean the trial wouldn’t be painful. Just meant, with God in his life, the situation would be easier.
Drake gently released Willow’s arms, knelt in front of her, and put his hands on her shoulders. “If I really thought it was best for you all to live with me, I would take you in a heartbeat. But I’m not ready to be a dad yet, and you need someone who is and knows what he’s doing.”
“Nuh-uh.” She crossed her arms. “I need you or Natalie. Or my dad.”
Natalie joined them. “I know you think this now, but one day you’ll understand.” Natalie tried to smooth Willow’s hair back from her face, but she jerked away.
She pouted. “I want to go to bed now.”
“Good idea.” Natalie forced a smile. “Things will look brighter in the morning.”
Willow glared at her. “I don’t need anyone to tuck me and George in. We’re good.”
She spun and raced from the room.
Tears pricked at Natalie’s eyes, and for once, she didn’t try to stop them.
“Oh, honey.” Drake gently gripped her arms. “Don’t cry.”
“I don’t want to, but…” A sob took her voice. “Sometimes it’s just so hard to see a child starting down the same difficult path you lived. Even if you know that God will bring good from the situation, you know the child is hurting. Sure, hurting is part of growing up, but not this kind of hurt.”
“We have to find the very best place for them.” He drew her into his arms, and the warmth of his body, of his care for her, helped ease the pain that she would normally be facing alone.
She felt so safe, so secure and cared for, that she could believe everything was going to be okay. She just needed to lean on the Byrd family’s support and trust in God’s all-knowing plan.
Natalie left the children with Drake at his condo and went home to shower and change for work. As she marched into her office, head held high to try to stem her unease, she heard her co-workers’ whispers and saw the challenging looks they gave from their cubicles. She put her things down in her cubby and went straight to her supervisor’s office.
Melinda Blankenship sat at her desk, pen in hand, perusing a report. In her late fifties, her gray hair was cut into a bob, and stress wrinkles on her face left her looking ten years older than her age. Thankfully, her thick dark-framed glasses hid many of the wrinkles.
“About time you showed your face.” She scowled and gestured at the chair in front of her cluttered desk. “Sit.”
“Just so you know right up front, the children are fine.”
“And the dad?” Melinda arched a busy eyebrow. “Did he turn out to be The Clipper?”
“No, he—”
“I knew it.” She pounded a fist on the desk. “I knew you overreacted.”
