MY FATE FOR YOURS

Chapter 32- RACHEL

Rachel

"Rachel?" Mrs. LeJeune says as she pushes the flimsy screen door open. "It's late, hon, what's going on?"

"I just..." I peer over her shoulder and she follows my gaze. "Is Eamon here? I knocked at his apartment but he didn't answer."

"No, sugar, he hasn't come in tonight. Do you want to come in and wait?"

I nod and follow her to the kitchen table where she pours me a glass of sweet tea.

"You alright, sugar? Is your mama okay?"

"Yes, ma'am. Mama's doing fine. I was just needing to talk to Eamon. Is Tobin around?"

"No, he hasn't come in yet either. I'm sure one of them will be home soon. Have you tried calling Eamon?"

Only a thousand times.

"Yes, ma'am. You don't need to wait with me, I'm happy to sit out on the porch."

"I'm glad to sit with you, been awhile since you've been around here." She pulls her belt on her robe tighter and then takes the seat across from me at the tiny breakfast table. "You up for a game of cards?"

I let a small smile creep across my face as she deals out the cards. I can't count how many times I've sat at this table with one of the LeJeune's. Long before I fell in love with Eamon, I fell in love with this entire family.

"So, how's everything been? Tobin seems to be doing better," I say, trying to deflect the conversation from me.

"He is," she nods.

"Glad he came home, we were all pretty worried about him there for a while," I say.

"Me too, darlin'. But you know what they say, 'you have to live before you learn.' I just hope this whole experience is something that Tobin can learn from, grow from. If he can do that, he'll be okay. But what about you? What's on your mind tonight?"

"Me? Oh, nothing much, just wanted to check with Eamon about something," I say. I hope my words are convincing, even if the tone is strained.

"Mmhmm," Mrs. LeJeune says with a knowing smile. "All the way over here to--"

A knock at the door interrupts her. I can't say I'm disappointed. That line of questioning was getting a little uncomfortable. I wish Eamon would get his ass home so I can apologize. He's trying, he can't change overnight, and I know that.

Our eyes go to the screen door where two police officers stand, then back to each other. Mrs. LeJeune pads lightly toward the door in her white slippers. She looks calm. With boys like Tobin and Eamon, I imagine the cops have showed up on her doorstep more than once before.

"Good evening, officers," she says. Her words are wrapped in the tiniest hint of worry. "Can I help you with something?"

"Can we come in, ma'am?" the older one asks. It's Hank Carlson. He lives right down the street from me and Mom.

"Hey, Hank," I say.

He tips his head as he pulls his hat off. When he does, I catch sight of the other officer still outside, helping a slouched over Tobin off of the steps. Tobin's jeans are covered in dirt and he's clutching his stomach. At first I think he's probably just drunk and the cops had to bring him home, but his face is contorted in a painful grimace I've never seen. Anguish. That's the only word that I can think when I look at him.

Mrs. LeJeune sees him at the same time.

"Tobin?" she says. Her voice is so uneasy, it makes my stomach ache. I know she loves her boys something fierce, and if she's nervous, something is definitely wrong.