Jim Butcher - Proven Guilty

“Beg pardon,” I said, and gave her my sweetest smile. “Don’t mind me. Just thinking out loud.”

Molly turned to glare at me, too, but hers was a pale imitation of her mother’s. “I do not need you to defend me.”

Charity’s attention shifted back to her daughter. “You will not speak to an adult in that tone of voice so long as you are in this house, young lady.”

“Not a problem,” Molly shot back, and then she whirled on her heel and opened the door.

Michael put his hand out, not with any particular effort, and the door slammed shut again with a sharp, booming impact.

Sudden silence fell over the Carpenter household. Both Molly and Charity stared at Michael with expressions of utter shock.

Michael took a deep breath and then said, “Ladies. I try not to involve myself in these discussions. But obviously your conversation this evening is unlikely to resolve the differences you’ve had.” He looked at them in turn, and his voice, while still gentle, became something more immovable than a mountain’s bones. “I don’t have any feeling that my trip will be an extended one,” he said, “but we never know what He has planned for us. Or how much time is left to any of us. This house has been upset long enough. The strife is hurting everyone. Find a way to resolve your troubles before I return.”

“But…” Molly began.

“Molly,” Michael said, his tone of voice inexorable. “She is your mother. She deserves your respect and courtesy. You will give them to her for the length of a conversation.”

Molly set her jaw, but looked away from her father. He stared at her for a moment, until she gave him a brief nod.

“Thank you,” he said. “I want you both to make an effort to set the anger aside, and talk. By God, ladies, I will not go forth to answer the call only to come home to more conflict and strife. I get enough of that while I’m gone.”

Charity stared at him for a second longer, and then said, “But Michael… surely you aren’t going to leave now. Not when…” She gestured vaguely at me. “There will be trouble.”

Michael stepped over to his wife and kissed her gently. Then he said, “Faith, my love.”

She closed her eyes and looked away from him after the kiss. “Are you sure?”

“I’m needed,” he said with quiet certainty. He touched her face with one hand and said, “Harry, would you walk me to the car?”

I did. “Thank you,” I said, once we were outside. “I’m glad to get out of there. Tension, knife.”

Michael nodded. “It’s been a long year.”

“What happened to them?” I asked.

Michael tossed his case and his bag into the back of his white pickup truck. “Molly was arrested. Possession.”

I blinked at him. “She was possessed?”

He sighed and looked at me. “Possession. Marijuana and Ecstasy. She was at a party and the police raided it. She was caught holding them.”

“Wow,” I said, my voice subdued. “What happened?”

“Community service,” he said. “We talked about it. She was clearly repentant. I thought that the humiliation and the sentence of the law were enough to settle matters, but Charity thought we were being too gentle. She tried to restrict which people Molly was allowed to spend time with.”

I winced. “Ah. I think I can see how this played out.”

Michael nodded, got into his truck, and leaned on the open window, looking up at me. “Yes. Both of them are proud and stubborn. Friction rose until it exploded this spring. Molly left home, dropped out of school. It’s been… difficult.”

“I can see that,” I said, and sighed. “Maybe you should pitch in with Charity. Maybe the two of you could sit on her until she gets back on the straight and narrow.”

Michael smiled a little. “She’s Charity’s daughter. A hundred parents sitting on her couldn’t make her surrender.” He shook his head. “A parent’s authority can only go so far. Molly has to start thinking and choosing for herself. At this point, twisting her arm until she cries uncle isn’t going to help her do that.”

“Doesn’t seem like Charity agrees with you,” I said.

Michael nodded. “She loves Molly very much. She’s terrified of the kinds of things that could happen to her little girl.” He glanced at the house. “Which brings me to a question for you.”

“Yeah?”

“Is there some kind of dangerous situation developing?”

I chewed on my lip and then nodded. “It seems probable, but I don’t have anything specific yet.”

“Is my daughter involved in it?”

“Not to my knowledge,” I told him. “Her boyfriend got arrested tonight. She talked me into bailing him out.”

Michael’s eyes narrowed a little, but then he caught himself, and I saw him force the angry expression from his face. “I see. How in the world did you get her to come here?”

“It was what I charged for my help,” I said. “She tried to back out, but I convinced her not to.”

Michael grunted. “You threatened her?”

“Politely,” I said. “I’d never hurt her.”

“I know that,” Michael said, his tone gently reproving. Behind us, the front door opened. Molly stepped out onto the porch, hugging herself with her arms. She stood that way for a moment, ignoring us. A few seconds later, a light on the second floor came on. Charity, presumably, had gone back upstairs.

Michael watched his daughter for a moment, pain in his eyes. Then he took a deep breath and said, “May I ask a favor of you?”

“Yes.”

“Talk to her,” Michael said. “She likes you. Respects you. A few words from you might do more than anything I could tell her right now.”

“Whoa,” I said. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to negotiate a treaty,” Michael said, smiling. “Just ask her to talk to her mother. To be willing to give a little.”

“Compromise has to work both ways,” I said. “What about Charity?”

“She’ll come around.”

“Am I the only one who has noticed that Charity really doesn’t regard me with what most of the world thinks of as fairness? Or fondness? I am the last person in the world likely to get her to sit down for a reconciliation talk.”

He smiled. “Have a little faith.”

“Oh, please.” I sighed, but there wasn’t any real feeling behind it.

“Will you try to help?” Michael asked.

I scowled at him. “Yes.”

He smiled at me, mostly in his eyes. “Thank you. I’m sorry you walked into the cross fire tonight.”

“Molly told me there had been trouble at home. Bringing her here seemed like the right thing to do.”

“I appreciate it.” Michael frowned, his eyes distant for a moment, then said, “I’ve got to get moving.”

“Sure,” I said.

He met my eyes and said, “If something arises, will you keep an eye on them for me? It would make me feel a lot better to know you were watching over them until I return.”

I glanced back at his house. “What happened to having faith?”

He smiled. “Seems a bit lazy to expect the Lord to do all the work, doesn’t it?” His expression grew serious again. “Besides. I do have faith, Harry. In Him-and in you.”

Demon-infested me writhed in uncomfortable guilt on the inside. “I’ll keep an eye on them, of course.”

“Thank you,” Michael said, and put the truck in gear. “When I get back, I need to talk business with you, if you have the time.”

I nodded. “Sure. Good hunting.”

“God be with you,” he replied with a deep nod, and then he pulled out and left. Have sword, will travel. Hi-yo, Silver, away.

Get Molly and Charity to sit down and talk things out. Right. I had about as much chance to do that as I did of backpacking my car to the top of Mount Rushmore. I was gloomily certain that even if I did manage to get them together, it would only make things go more spectacularly wrong once they were there. The whole house would probably go up in an explosion when mother met antimother.