Too Far to Say Far Enough: A Novel Read Online Free PDF Page A

over Desmond and me, and I watched every head bow before I lowered mine. Desmond and I were surrounded by people who had always brought what prayers they had to courtrooms and hospital rooms and jail cells so that this family could be. They were so achingly beautiful to me, I couldn’t close my eyes.
    “You’ve entrusted Desmond into our care,” Hank was saying. “Help us to remember that we are all Your children—”
    Amens were murmured.
    “—and to nurture him to the full stature intended for him in your eternal kingdom. For the sake of your dear Son, our Lord Christ.”
    Hank opened her eyes to meet mine, melting me with her sheer sincerity.
    “You are not alone in this, you two,” she said. “We can all share in the responsibility. Are we in, my friends?”
    Mercedes’s signature mmm-mm led the response.
    “Allison and Desmond,” Hank said, “have chosen to wash each other’s feet as Jesus did his friends’ when he said, ‘Love one another as I have loved you.’ Any of you who would also like to wash their feet as a sign of your commitment to them are welcome.” Hank’s lips quivered into the smallest of smiles as she added, “I know this isn’t your first footwashing, but let me just remind you that we’re not talking about a full leg massage.”
    I poked Desmond with my elbow.
    “Imma hold myself back, Big Al,” he said.
    I didn’t say anything as Desmond sat on the trunk, sans Harley boots, and I knelt and cleansed my son’s gangly, adolescent feet of the need to ever run from his life again. I was still under my vow not to go emo. Besides, unless I was speaking the words God gave me, I was very likely to insert both feet and a hand in my mouth anyway.
    Desmond took his turn, and in deference to Hank, limited himself to my heels, soles, and toes. I was surprised he didn’t take that opportunity to regale us all with the whole story of how he had come to live with me on Palm Row, how he’d become as much a part of my Harley as its handlebars, and how I was going to be impressed at the model kid he was going to be now that he was a Chamberlain.
    He just dried his hands and reached inside the leather jacket he still hadn’t taken off and pulled out a folder smeared at the corners with chalky fingerprints.
    “I made you this,” was all he said.
    Necks craned as I opened it, to find two drawn figures looking back at me. The hair on one resembled a Brillo pad on steroids, the other long strands of straw stolen from a haystack. But the smiles on both could not have been truer as they extended almost beyond their faces.
    “Now that looks like you, Allison,” Ms. Willa said. “But that one in the hallway—”
    “Anyone else want to make a promise to Allison and Desmond?” Hank’s timing was always impeccable.
    Every person there washed Desmond’s feet and mine, and with each splash of water and press of hand, the pile that had become my life became less daunting. Each of our beloved friends expressed what they could offer Desmond and me, everything from the HOGs guaranteeing enough Harley T-shirts to get Desmond through high school to Sherry promising to teach him how to do an oil change, to which he replied with the charming grin, “I like that in a woman.”
    We were covered. There was clearly nothing that could take us down.
    The only person who said nothing as he washed—just squeezed Desmond’s shoulder and kissed me on the cheek—was Bonner. I knew him well enough to drag him out to the side porch after my feet had been washed until they were shriveled, while everyone else made a beeline for the dessert table.
    “That was you choking like you had a hairball in the courtroom, wasn’t it?” I said. “You know how hard it is to keep a straight face when you do that?”
    Bonner sank beside me on the swing, the sun teasing out the reddish tinge of his hair, and studied the crease in his slacks through the inevitable sunglasses attached to him with Croakies.
    “You okay?” I