Amanda Stevens - The Whispering Room

Evangeline had wondered that herself over the past forty-eight hours. Now as she stared down into her mother’s careworn face, the answer came easily. “A few days ago, I might have had a hard time forgiving you, but now I know how far I was willing to go to protect my own child. I would have killed an innocent woman if it had come to that. So I’m not sure I’m in any position to judge you. I have my son back. That’s all that matters to me now.” She bent to kiss her mother’s cheek, and Lynette’s arms slipped around her, holding her close for a very long time.

Later that night, Evangeline sat out on the front porch with the baby. He’d been fed and bathed and it was long past his bedtime. But she couldn’t bear to put him down. She wanted him close. Wanted to be able to stare down into his little face for as long as she needed to reassure herself that he was safe.

The burnished clouds of sunset had cooled and darkened, and the sky turned lavender as twilight winged softly over the landscape.

A car door slammed down the street, and a moment later, Nash turned up the walkway to her porch. He paused on the bottom step, his face in shadows, before coming the rest of the way up. He sat down beside her, and the scent of his aftershave, the scent of him, filled Evangeline’s senses.

“I have some news,” he finally said, his gaze on the sleeping baby.

“What kind of news?”

“Remember when I promised you justice? We’re moving in on Betts.”

Evangeline turned to study his face. “When?”

“I can’t say exactly when. But soon. I’ll let you know when it’s over. This time he won’t walk. We’ll make sure of that.”

Evangeline stared down at her son. “That’s good,” she said.

“You don’t sound too excited about it.”

“Justice is a very good thing,” she said. “But it won’t bring Johnny back. It won’t change what he did.”

“No, I guess not.”

Summer lightning flickered on the horizon and the soft breeze carried a hint of rain.

Nash said softly, “He’s a fine-looking boy, Evangeline.”

Her heart swelled with pride.

“You should see your face when you look at him.” He paused, as if suddenly at a loss for words. “Don’t let go of that feeling,” he said. “Don’t ever forget what’s important.”

Tears burned Evangeline’s eyes. Tears of guilt and wonder and a love so fierce, her chest felt ready to explode.

“For so long, I only went through the motions,” she said. “I did everything I thought a mother should do, but I thought something was missing inside me. Something that wouldn’t allow me to love my son the way he deserved to be loved. Now I know it was just fear holding me back. Fear of losing him the way I lost Johnny. It took meeting that fear head-on for me to realize how much I love him. He means everything to me. I’d die to protect him.”

“He’s lucky to have you for a mother,” Nash said. He sounded moved. Humbled.

“No,” she said. “I’m the lucky one. I know that now.”

They sat for the longest moment in silence while she cradled her sleeping son in her arms.

“I had the strangest dream last night,” she finally said.

“Oh, yeah?”

“I was sitting out here on the porch just like we are now and I saw Johnny on the street. He was driving Nathan Mallet’s red Mustang, the one he always loved. When he saw me on the porch, he honked and waved, but when I ran after him, he drove away without stopping, like he had somewhere important he had to be.” She turned to Nash. “What do you think that meant?”

His eyes searched her face in the darkness. “Maybe it was his way of saying goodbye.”

“I told you once that I could still feel his presence, remember?” She drew a long breath, releasing something bittersweet inside her. “I don’t feel him anymore. Not with you here. So maybe that dream was my way of telling him goodbye.”

Nash said nothing as she turned and watched the clouds roll in from the gulf. The breeze picked up and the heady fragrance of her neighbor’s roses hung heavy on the steamy night air.

Evangeline couldn’t look at Nash, but she didn’t pull away when he slipped his arm around her shoulder.

Down the street, a car engine roared to life. It sounded like Nathan Mallet’s old Mustang, and in her mind’s eye, Evangeline saw Johnny wave as he gunned the motor and drove away.

J.D. whimpered in his sleep, as if he’d heard the sound, too. Evangeline lifted him to her chest and pressed her cheek to the top of his head.

“I’m here,” she whispered. “Mama’s here.”