“All right,” Delroy said.
“Another thing,” Walter went on. “I made some phone calls while I was out and about waiting to get the doc’s report on you. As it turns out, your wife Glenda is still in town.”
Surprise pushed Delroy’s outrage and pain aside. “Glenda is here? She didn’t … leave with the others?”
“No, sir. She didn’t leave. She’s here.”
The world grew silent and still and as cold as a January morning. Delroy couldn’t breathe for a moment. Then he heard the blood roar in his ears as his heart chugged through another beat.
“Does she …” Delroy’s voice failed him.
“Know that you’re here?” Walter shook his head. “Not that I know of. I ain’t one to go around jacking my jaws about everything. The doctors and nurses at the hospital ain’t connected you with Glenda. As a matter of fact, I doubt they even know her.”
“You said the floor nurse knew my name.”
“Yes, sir. She did. But she don’t know Glenda. She knew stories about your daddy. I also asked her to keep things quiet. She will.”
“Thank you for that. I don’t know how Glenda would react to knowing I was in town.”
“You wasn’t planning on stopping in and seeing her?”
“No,” Delroy admitted, and he felt guilty at once. “All my plans ended at the graveyard.”
“You thinking about stopping in and seeing her now?”
“No.” Delroy’s answer was immediate.
“You two divorced? ‘Cause that’s not the way I heard it was.”
“Not divorced. At least, not that I know of.”
“She’s still carrying your name.”
Delroy knew that was how Glenda was. She’d married him all those years ago, and she’d told him she’d wear his name for the rest of her life.
“You mind me asking what it is that’s come between you two?” Walter asked.
“I do mind.”
“Too bad. I’m asking anyway. Things I’ve heard about Glenda Harte are all good. I wouldn’t stand for hearing that any harm’s come to that woman because I made a mistake about somebody else.”
Delroy thought about getting up and walking out of the café. His eyes darted to the door.
“Leaving wouldn’t do you any good,” Walter continued in a level voice. “I brought you to breakfast because I thought we might talk things out like men.”
“What’s gone on or is going on between my … wife and me is none of your business.”
Walter sighed and rubbed his face. “Chaplain Harte, you’re carrying around more grief and anger and confusion than any man I’ve ever met in my life. Or at the very least, any man I’ve met in a good many years. And in my line of business I’ve met no few men like that. So I consider myself a pretty good judge of another man’s disposition. Maybe that’s conceit on my part, but I’ve paid my dues for that one. Now, we’re gonna get straight with each other this morning, or I’m gonna bust you and take you in to get some psychiatric help. I ain’t gonna have no loose cannon roaming around this county I swore to protect and defend.”
“I’m not here to hurt anyone.”
Walter held up a hand. “Ain’t nothing wrong with my hearing. I look like a man gone hard of hearing?”
Delroy said, “No.”
“My wife’s the only one accuses me of that, and that’s ‘cause I don’t jump up ever’ time she wants me to do something on her honey-do list. But I’m good at law enforcement. I get so I ain’t, I’ll lay it down immediately.” Walter blew on his coffee and sipped it. “Now if I lock you up, it ain’t but one short phone call to the navy. Bet if I told whoever was at the other end of that line that one of their officers was down here acting squirrelly, you’d be back wherever it is you belong in a New York minute.” He brushed biscuit crumbs and gravy from his mustache with his napkin. “Are you reading me now, Chaplain?”
“Aye,” Delroy responded. “Loud and clear.”
“Good. That’s real good. ‘Cause that’s the last thing I want to do. I don’t think that’s what will get things done for you here.” Walter leaned back a little.
“My son’s death separated my wife and me,” Delroy said.
“I heard your son passed during military action.”
Delroy nodded, having to force himself to move.
“Your wife couldn’t get over it?” Walter asked. “I’ve seen people like that. People that couldn’t make peace with a loss. Took me a long time to meet eye to eye with God over the loss of my own boy. I still don’t think it was right, and maybe I stepped away from Him some. I faulted Him a lot for a long time. Maybe that’s part of why I’m still here.”
Shame burned Delroy’s features. It was hard to admit everything, but at least he felt that he and Deputy Walter Purcell shared something in common.
“It wasn’t my wife that couldn’t get past it,” Delroy said in a low, soft voice. He thought of Terrence lying in that muddy grave, the ground above him all torn up where Delroy had tried to dig down to him. “It was me. I couldn’t get past the death of my son.”
Walter stared at Delroy for a long time. Then the big man leaned forward and put a hand on Delroy’s shoulder. “It’s a powerful hard thing to get past. And it’s mighty confusing because you just don’t feel right about moving on through it.”
“I know. I’ve given a lot of people that speech over the years.” Delroy felt cold and empty inside. “Glenda faltered. I saw her. And I tried to comfort her. That gave me something to do, gave me the chance to turn away from my own pain and anger.” He stopped, lost in the memory and unable to go on.
“Then she started to come around,” Walter said quietly. “She started healing.”
“Aye.”
“And you
