Never Say Goodbye

“No. I signed it all over to Jess when I was convicted.”

“Think she might give you a loan to get you started?”

“I don’t plan to ask.”

Seth folded his arms across his chest. “Be pretty hard to live on the salary I’m offering.”

“I’ll manage. I don’t need much. Just a chance.”

Seth nodded shortly. “That I can give you.” He reached into his pocket, withdrew a wallet and laid several fifty-dollar bills on the table. “Consider this an advance on your salary. Get yourself a warm coat and some sturdy shoes. Be here tomorrow at seven.”

Scott looked at the money. There was a time when he would drop twice that amount on a business dinner with several colleagues. In those days, money had meant prestige and power. Now it just meant survival. Funny how dramatically things had changed, he reflected. Slowly he reached for the bills and carefully folded them over. “Thank you,” he said. “For the loan. And for taking me on.”

Seth shrugged and stood up. “Don’t thank me yet. It’s hard, dirty work. You might not last a week.”

“I’ll last.” The statement was made quietly—but with absolute conviction.

Seth looked at him speculatively, but made no comment. Instead he turned and led the way to the door. “Tomorrow morning. Seven sharp.”

“I’ll be here.” Scott extended his hand, and Seth took it in a firm grip. The older man’s probing gaze seemed to go right to Scott’s heart.

“I was in your shoes once,” he said evenly. “I know how hard it is to lose everything. And society doesn’t make it easy to start over. Some guys make it. Some don’t. The bitter ones never do. Neither do the ones who can’t admit their mistakes. I figure you’re gonna make it.”

Scott felt a prickling behind his eyelids. For some reason this stranger’s words of encouragement touched him deeply. “I figure I am, too.”

“Reverend Young tells me you’re a churchgoing man. That gives you a leg up right there.”

“It also gives me hope.”

“Hope is a good thing to have.”

“It’s the only thing I have right now.”

“Maybe that’s enough. For right now,” Seth said sagely. “One thing you learn in this business. Patience. Things happen in their own time.” He nodded toward a pot where new green leaves were just beginning to push their way through the dirt. “You take care of plants, give them light and warmth and water, and in time they’ll flower. You can help the process along, but you can’t make them bloom until they’re ready. Same with a lot of things in life. Especially people.”

Scott thought of Jess, and the slow, daunting task of trying to win back her love. “Yeah,” he said heavily.

“But remember one thing. Spring always comes.”

Scott looked at Seth, taken aback by the man’s philosophical—and poetic—insight. No wonder Reverend Young had spoken so highly of him. “I like that thought.”

Seth shrugged, the philosophical moment clearly over. “Good. Now go buy that coat. You’ll need it tomorrow,” he said briskly. A movement on the far side of the greenhouse suddenly caught his attention, and he turned. “Jason? Wait up!” he called. He looked back at Scott. “Gotta talk to him about the spring shipment of dogwood trees. See you tomorrow.”

Scott watched the older man stride down the length of the greenhouse, impressed and encouraged by their encounter. This job was going to work out fine. He could sense it.

He turned up his collar and moved toward the door, bracing himself for the blast of cold air waiting for him on the other side. Seth was right, he thought wryly. The first order of business was a warm coat.

He was right about something else, too, Scott acknowledged as he stepped into the frigid February air and began the long, chilling trek to the bus stop.

No matter how cold, how inhospitable, how merciless the winter is, spring always comes.

It was a good thought, Scott reflected. An uplifting thought. And he resolved to hold on to it—no matter what lay ahead in the weeks to come.

Chapter Two

“Scott? Is everything all right?”

Scott smiled as his sister’s voice came over the line. “Everything’s fine. It just took me a couple of days to get settled.”

“I can’t believe Joe got appendicitis the day before you got out! We wanted to pick you up and help you get settled,” she fretted. “Do you have a place to stay? Are you eating?”

His smile deepened. Karen had always been a mother hen, even more so since their own mother had died five years before. And her mothering instincts had intensified since he’d been in prison—for which he was deeply grateful. Other than Reverend Young, she’d been his lifeline, his only contact with the outside world for three long years. He would never forget her steadfast support and her willingness to stand by him despite the tragic mistakes he’d made—nor her long monthly trek to visit him. “Yes to both. How’s Joe?”

“He’ll live. It’s you I’ve been worrying about. Why didn’t you call sooner?”

“I did call. Almost as soon as I walked out the gates.”

“But that was three days ago!”

“I’ve been busy ever since. I had to look at the apartments Reverend Young lined up, and I had an interview at the nursery today.”

“Did you get the job?”

“Yes. It was the strangest interview I’ve ever had, but I have a feeling things will work out fine.”

“Good. I know you were counting on that job.” There was a slight pause, and when she spoke again he could hear the frown in her voice. “Listen, where are you?”

“In my apartment.”

“So you have a phone. Give me the number.” Scott complied, then Karen read it back to confirm. “Okay. I’m hanging up and calling you right back,” she said briskly. “You can’t afford this call.”

“Karen, I’m fine. You don’t have to—”

“I’m hanging up. Bye.”

The line went dead and Scott shook his head, smiling with equal parts affection and exasperation. As a stay-at-home mom with three boys, Karen wasn’t exactly rolling in dough, either. But when she got a notion in her head, there was no stopping her.

A moment later the phone rang and Scott reached for it. “That wasn’t necessary, you know.”

“Listen, big brother, do me a favor, okay? Let people help you if they want to. I just wish you’d come up here for a few weeks, like I asked you to.”

“I appreciate the offer, Karen. I really do. But I need to get back into the real world sooner or later. It might as well be sooner.”

He could hear her sigh of frustration over the wire. “Look, Scott, you could use a break. You deserve it. I was there, remember? I saw you the first Friday of every month. You lost forty pounds in six months. You looked like death. I worried about you night and day. You never talked about life in there, but I know it was hell. I know how close you came to…giving up.” She took a deep breath, and when she resumed speaking, there was a tremor in her voice. “Dear God, my heart bled for you every time I walked out the door and had to leave you behind. Do you know where I went when I left, after my first five or six visits? To the ladies’ room to throw up. I just couldn’t bear that you were in that place, and that I couldn’t do anything to help you.”

Her voice broke, and Scott felt as if someone had kicked him in the gut. Karen had never before even hinted at the emotional toll her visits had taken. Just the opposite. She’d always been upbeat and chatty, working hard to cheer him up by telling him humorous anecdotes about the family, passing on drawings the boys had done for him, sharing photos of the birthday parties and Christmases he’d missed. Those visits had been the only thing that kept him going in those early months. Because of her he had still felt connected to the outside world. Because of her he was able for a brief time to feel human again. But if he’d known the emotional toll it had taken on her, he would never have let her come. “I’m so sorry, Karen,” he said, his voice anguished. “I had no idea.”

“That was the intent.” Her voice still sounded a bit shaky, but she quickly got it under control. “I know you, big brother. If you’d had any idea what those visits did to me, you’d have told me to stop coming. And I wanted to be there for you. But it’s over now. I only brought it up because I want you to know that I realize how horrible it was. And I think you need to take some time to readjust. To rest. To decompress. That’s why I wanted you to come up to Chicago and stay with us for a while. I still wish you would.”