“Don’t. Just say it. I’m not made of glass.”

He smiled. “You’re f**king scaring me. Okay so, she’s gone. He took her from you and it can’t be taken back. I’m sorry, so sorry that this happened, but wishing yourself dead in her place won’t change that. The only option you have right now is to go down there and testify before the parole board.”

“Exactly.” Todd walked into the room holding a huge tray of food and a stack of plates. “My mother went a little wild.” He smiled. “Eat. Leaving the cider in the Crock-Pot downstairs was an awesome idea. Drink it. I added some Jack.”

She picked among the food, not really having an appetite, and Todd took over, heaping potatoes, turkey, stuffing and green beans on a plate.

Fire left a trail down her throat after she took a sip of the cider. “Yeah, just a bit of Jack.” She coughed.

It was quiet for a few minutes until they’d eaten, and Erin had to admit she felt better for it.

“I know you’re scared.” Todd met her eyes as he spoke.

Her skin crawled. “I shouldn’t be. I should rush down there and set up a tent outside the parole board in protest.”

Todd closed his eyes and finally got it. “You can’t feel guilty for being afraid. Erin, he stalked and terrorized you. He nearly killed you and he killed your daughter. Of course you’re afraid.”

Ben brushed hair from her face. “That’s what he relied on. He built it up over time. That’s what stalkers and abusers do.”

“It doesn’t mean you didn’t love Adele. It doesn’t make you a bad mother. It doesn’t make you a bad person.”

She burst into tears again and Todd moved the food out of the way so he and Ben could hold her.

“Let it go. We’ve got you. We won’t let you fall.” Todd kissed her cheek, tasting the sadness of her tears.

“Baby, let us help you make it through,” Ben said and it just made her cry harder.

When she’d reached the stage of hiccups and what had to be a really disgusting runny nose, she sat up and took the hankie Todd held out to her.

“I’m scared,” she finally said. “But I’m sick of it. There’s nothing else to do but stand up and face him. For myself and for Adele.”

“I’m proud of you. And we’ll be right by your side when you do this.”

“I need to call Jeremy. He would have called if he heard. Emery said the hearing was next month.” She scrubbed her face with her hands.

She dialed Jeremy’s parents’ house, knowing he’d be there.

“Hello, Sue, it’s Erin. I’m sorry to bother you, but I need to speak with Jeremy, it’s important.”

33

Ben pushed his parents’ front door open with his foot, his arms full of packages. Erin and Todd came in behind him.

His mother came in, wearing a nervous smile, wringing her hands. She saw Erin and smiled, going to her.

“You ready for this?”

Erin took a deep breath. “Which this do you mean?”

His mother smiled. “Going down to the prison, and I suppose this here too.”

“Both things scare the heck out of me. But I love Ben and I’m here to support him. As for the parole board, I’m trying not to think on it too much, but there’ll be so many family members there I think I’ll be okay.” Erin took Ben’s mother’s hand. “Thank you for asking. I know this is . . . difficult for you. Hard to understand. I’d expect for you to resent me.”

Annalee shook her head. “My boy is a grown man. He’s capable of his own decisions. I can’t promise it’ll be easy. But I love him just the same and if you’re his choice, I can live with that. Took me a while, I admit. But I watch him and he’s happy. A mother can’t ask for more.”

“Ben?” Cope came out and saw them all. He dropped a kiss on Erin’s cheek and nodded at his brother and Todd. “He’s out back, working on a new bench for the front porch.”

“Let’s go.”

“With all those tools? Are you sure?” Annalee asked nervously.

The point was moot anyway as Bill came through the back door. “Any coffee for a man frozen to the bone?”

They all went into the kitchen. Bill Copeland had definitely passed his genes on to his sons. He was as tall as Ben, and broad. Dark hair liberally salted with gray and piercing blue eyes marked his features. He had a cop’s countenance, wary, watchful, but open all the same. Ben knew he had that look, even when he hadn’t been a cop for three years.

“Hey, Dad.” Ben waved. It wasn’t that Ben didn’t think his father loved his sons. He knew their dad loved them. But Bill Copeland was not demonstrative. The hugs and kisses came from Mom and that’s how it was. Ben had never seen his father cry and Ben could count on two hands the number of times he’d told his boys he loved them. Bill was a man of few words. A family man, even if he didn’t kiss scraped knees.

“Hey there, son. Didn’t expect to see you today. Is someone sick?” Bill looked around. “Erin, is everything okay with the hearing? They didn’t move it up without telling you, did they?”

Ben liked that his father cared for Erin and for a moment he considered just not saying anything. But the circle of people who knew had gotten wider, as Lorie now knew. DJ wasn’t speaking to them at all. The others hadn’t heard yet, but it would only be a matter of time.