Chapter 24

Once inside, Al poured us all glasses of orange juice, and we sat down around the table in her dining room. Before anyone else could say anything, I stuck my foot in my mouth. "Mr. Hitt, do you know what the law could do to you for what you did to Al?"

"Once we're done here, turn me in, and I'll find out."

"I could almost believe you mean it."

"Cowboy!" Al said, but I waved her down.

"I do mean it," Vern said. "What I did was wrong, and I deserve to pay the penalty."

I stared at him. "I looked things up when I realized who you were," I said. "I found the information online. The statute of limitations on your crime ran out at least 14 years ago. You're safe."

"But I have to live with it."

"Ah, the typical show of remorse. I've seen it before."

"Cowboy," Al said, "stop this right now!"

I glared at her. "Trust me, Al. I'm heading somewhere." I turned back to Vern. "I've seen it before, I said."

His jaw worked. "Maybe you have. And maybe not. Here's what we'll do. Alison will stay here, and we'll go out in the back yard, and you'll do to me whatever you want, and then we'll come back in here and I'll talk to my daughter. Take your best shot, Mr. Carpenter – I won't resist."

"I ought to take you up on it."

He looked down at the table, all anger going out of his posture. "I wish you would. I can never punish myself enough for what I did. I wish the law could do it, but since that's gone, you say, maybe if you did it things would be okay."

Al started to stand, but I kept her in her seat with a sharp gesture. "You know, Mr. Hitt, I'm beginning to believe you. I really am."

"You don't have any reason to believe me."

"No, not really. When I said I've seen it before, I was telling the truth." I looked at Al, who was giving me a look that ought to kill. I looked back at Vern. "I'm going to do the impossible here. I'm going to take you at your word. You say you're sorry – I believe you. You say you're a Christian now – I believe you. You say you've repented of what you did – I believe you. You say you want to receive punishment – I believe you."

Al wasn't glaring at me now. She had a smile on her lips, and tears were flowing down her cheeks. "Thank you, Darvin."

"I won't say it's nothing, 'cause it's the hardest thing I've ever done. But ... but I don't have any choice, do I?"

"You do. You could choose to hold onto your..."

"My hate, Al. Call it by its right name."

Vern stirred, as though he wanted to reach out to Al but thought better of it. "He's right, baby. He hated me, maybe he still does. I don't blame him either. I wouldn't blame you if you hated me."

"But I don't, Daddy. I did – but I don't anymore."

"And I don't either," I said. "Oh, I'll probably have to fight outcroppings for a long time, but ... Look, Mr. Hitt, Al's forgiven you for what you did, and now I need ... I need to ask your forgiveness—"

"Whatever for?" The consternation on his face and in his voice couldn't have been fake.

"For doubting you. For hating you. For treating you like slime. I was a cop, Mr. Hitt – I ought to know that no matter what a suspect's done, you treat him with respect. I'm a Christian, and I ought to know that I have to treat others the way I want them to treat me. But I didn't. And..." I took in a huge breath. I wasn't sure I could say it, but I knew I had to. "And I want to ask you to forgive me."

I felt Al's hand on my arm, but all I saw was Vernon Hitt. His eyes overflowed again, and he said, "I forgive you. Freely. And my name's Vern."

"Yeah, I know." I swallowed. "I'm sorry, Vern, very sorry."

"So am I. I've been finding out all these years what sin does to your insides. I didn't even know it till six years ago, but that's what I was doing. You lock the bitterness and hatred inside, and it'll kill you. If that doesn't make you sorry, you're in trouble."

"Yeah." I rubbed my face, and realized I hadn't touched my juice. I took a big swallow, and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. "So where do we go from here?"

Al turned to her father. "Daddy, I have to ask you a very difficult question. Do you ... do you still have those ... those urges that you..."

"Do I still want to sleep with my daughter? No. God took that away from me when He saved me."

"I'm sorry I asked—"

"No, Alison, it was the right question. If I still ... if ... well, it would make it impossible, maybe for us to learn how to be a family again."