Honor

their meddling no matter how rudely he tried to cut them off.
Kevin reached for a cigarette, then caught Jason’s disapproving frown as his son eyed the mound of butts already overflowing the ashtray. Kevin drew his hand back and settled for another sip of cold, bitter coffee. The acid pitched in his stomach.
“Dana knows exactly where I am,” Jason said, complacently ignoring his father’s dismissal. “She sent me. We’re both worried about you, Dad. You look like hell. You’re smoking too much. You’re living on caffeine. I doubt you’re getting enough sleep. Face it, you haven’t been yourself since Mother moved out of the house.”
The cold knot that formed in Kevin’s stomach every time he thought about home and Lacey came back with a savagery that stunned him.
“I don’t want to talk about your mother,” he countered bluntly and reached for the cigarette, after all. When it was lit and he’d drawn the smoke deep into his lungs, he deliberately forced his attention back to the stack of work on his desk.
If he buried himself in reports and figures, maybe, just maybe, Jason would give up and go away. More importantly, maybe he could forget the emptiness Lacey’s leaving had created inside him, the echoing silence that greeted him each night when he returned home.
In theory it should have worked, but Kevin had discovered that theories and paperwork didn’t mean a damn thing in the middle of another god-awful, lonely, silent night. That didn’t mean he was willing to talk, not to Jason. Lacey had been the only person in his life to whom he could open up. She had had the most amazing knack for listening without making judgments.
Jason obviously thought that his cool, analytical approach would help, but in Kevin’s experience, talking about emotions never accomplished a thing. To his way of thinking, airing problems only exposed a man’s weaknesses right at a time when he needed every shred of pride he had left.
Besides that, dissecting things a man couldn’t change only made the hurt worse, Kevin thought, still careful to avoid Jason’s increasingly impatient gaze. There were even times, in the dark, lonely hours of the night, when the pain became a blind rage, when he wanted to strike out, to break things. The only thing stopping him was the certain knowledge that he had only himself to blame for the way things were between him and Lacey. She’d made that clear enough before she’d gone.
“I want to talk,” Jason said, still on the same relentless track despite his father’s obvious unwillingness to open up.
His tone was deceptively mild. Kevin recognized the stubborn streak his son had inherited from a long line of mule-headed Halloran men. Even as Kevin glanced up, Jason was settling more comfortably into the chair opposite him, his jaw squared, his expression determined. He took Kevin’s just-lit cigarette and deliberately ground it out, his hard look daring his father to challenge the action.
“Not once in all these months have you explained why Mother moved out,” his son said.
“That’s between your mother and me,” Kevin responded stiffly, unwilling—unable—to say more. Then, because he needed desperately to know despite everything, he asked, “What has she told you?”
“About as much as you have,” Jason admitted with obvious disgust at the continued parental secrecy. “Did you two make some sort of pact of silence, the way you always did when I was a kid?”
“We never did any such thing.”
“Perhaps it wasn’t a formal contract, drawn up by the Halloran legal staff, but it was a pact nonetheless. You never wanted me to guess that the two of you were quarreling. Instead, the house got quiet as a tomb for weeks on end.” He shook his head. “It was awful.”
Unable to bear his son’s distraught expression, Kevin stood up, walked to the window and stared out at the Boston skyline in the distance. Lights were just now blinking on. Was one of them Lacey’s? he wondered. What was she doing in that ridiculously cramped apartment of hers? How could she hope to find happiness there, when he’d given her everything a woman could possibly want and it hadn’t been enough?
He sighed and turned back, just in time to hear Jason say, “When Dana’s mad at me, she puts all her cards on the table, usually at the top of her lungs. There’s not a chance in hell I won’t know exactly what’s on her mind. With the two of you, though, I don’t know.” He shrugged helplessly. “I think I’d have liked it better if you’d broken the china.”
“And risked your grandfather’s wrath?” Kevin retorted with a faint smile. “That china came over from England more than a century ago.”
Jason didn’t smile back at the weak attempt at humor. “I’m not interested in the china. I’m interested in what the hell happened to my parents’ marriage.”
Kevin sighed, a bone-deep weariness stealing through him. “Son, if I knew that, maybe I could make it right.”
When Jason started to probe more deeply, Kevin shook his head. “I will not talk about this,” he warned with quiet finality. “Go home to your wife. She’s expecting your baby. She needs you there.”
“The baby’s not due for another three months. I hardly think Dana’s desperate for me to get home and watch her as if she might break. Besides, every time she gets the least little bit queasy, so do I. We’re running out of crackers.”
“Then buy some and go home,” Kevin said flatly.
This time it was Jason who sighed. “Okay, but if you need to talk, Dad…”
Kevin might not be able to explain what had happened, or his own feelings, but he couldn’t ignore the pain and confusion in Jason’s tone. He relented as much as he could. “I’ll come looking for you, son. I promise.”
Finally, after several endless minutes, Jason nodded, his expression resigned. He stood in the doorway and said, “If you want her back, Dad, you’re going to have to fight for her.”
“I know that.” What he didn’t say