Elvis Takes a Back Seat Read Free Page A

on my forehead. “Are you a teenager?”
    â€œYou better stay back then,” I warn, my tone light and airy. “I’ve got the hormones for some scary behavior.”
    His laughter is a short burst, then silence expands between us. I sip my Diet Coke, which foams up like the tension building inside me. “Are you having trouble with Ivy?”
    â€œDepends on the moment.” He grins, but there’s tension around the edges. “She’s normal. I think. But I don’thave a lot to compare her to. It’s times like this when I miss Gwen.”
    I don’t know how to respond. I don’t know how to help. I know the damage Gwen caused, the anger and betrayal. Ben rarely mentions his ex-wife anymore; but when he does, it feels like a shovel jabbing at a pile of hurt, anger, and betrayal.
    â€œThere’s no guarantee if Gwen had stayed that she and Ivy would be close.” Case in point: my relationship with my mother. “There’s no such thing as a perfect teenager. Or the perfect parent.” Or a perfect life. Over the past few years I’ve discovered uncertainty is the one certainty.
    â€œThat’s true.” He leans against the kitchen counter, one shoulder tilted downward. “Thing is, I’ve been meaning to talk to her about her mother. Explain some things she should know and understand. But it’s never a good time. She’s always angry or upset. Usually at me. And this would make it worse.”
    Despair washes over me. There’s so much hurt in the world, in this very room. Sometimes I feel as if I’m drowning in it. “Do you ever wonder why this has happened? Gwen … and Stu? Why she abandoned your family? Why Stu had to die? I mean, what’s the point?”
    â€œAre you asking why God allowed it?” His brown eyes narrow on me.
    I shrug, shift from one foot to the other. Maybe that’s what I’ve been asking but secretly was afraid a lightning bolt would hit me if I dared. “Maybe I am.”
    â€œI’ll tell you, Claudia, I haven’t a clue.” His answer stuns me. Then he laughs, a caustic sound. “I’ve wrestled with thatquestion a lot. Sometimes I think it’s my fault about Gwen.
    The consequences of sin and all that.”
    â€œYour fault?”
    â€œSure. Did I miss the warning signs? Looking back, there were things about Gwen that I should have noticed, should have worried about. Before and after we married. But I ignored them.”
    â€œIt’s not your fault that Gwen walked out.”
    â€œMaybe. Maybe not. But maybe I could have spared all of us this pain if I’d paid attention to the signs. Then again, I wouldn’t have Ivy.”
    â€œSo what’s the reason for Stu suffering, dying so young?”
    He leans back against the counter and crosses his arms over his chest. “I don’t have an answer. I don’t have answers for all my questions. I trust there’s a reason.”
    â€œTrust,” I scoff. “Like trusting Santa’s going to come down the chimney?”
    â€œGod isn’t a myth. Or some jolly elf that brings presents.”
    Maybe that’s why I’m disappointed. Maybe I expected more. But then what or who is this God who’s supposed to be running things?
    The back door opens and bangs against the wall. Rae rushes into the kitchen, her face reddened, her fists tight.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?” I ask, rushing forward.
    â€œI caught someone stealing!”
    Ben grabs the golf club like a baseball bat.
    Rae slaps a baby rattle on the counter. “Can you believe that?”
    â€œSomeone stole a baby rattle?” Ben asks. “Where’d—”
    â€œWhere’s the money box, Rae?” I ask, thinking of the Monkees lunch box I’m using for a bank.
    â€œI gave it to Ivy to watch.” She shifts her gaze to Ben, then back to me. “Was that okay?”
    â€œI’m sure