The Chaplain's Daughter by K.T. Hastings Page A

then Alyssa’s voice broke, and the flow of tears, a mere trickle before, flowed down her mottled cheeks.  She gulped twice and held her hand up when Toby started to answer.
     
    “Let me finish.  Mostly I’m glad that you’re (sniff) not (sniff, sniff) dead!”
     
    Toby looked at the girl before him.  Her hair was a tangled mess that wasn’t destined to be properly fixed at any time during her shift at the campus bookstore.  Her eyes were puffy and red.  Her nose was pouring gross stuff like a fire hydrant gone berserk.  She was ineffectually wiping her nose and eyes and wishing as much as anything that she had a Kleenex…or a towel.  She looked positively miserable…and like the most beautiful creature that Toby Jacks had ever seen.
     
    “Alyssa, you heard what you heard and saw what you saw and the conclusion made sense to you.  I know that.  I would say that I forgive you but there really isn’t anything to forgive.  Amos talked to me about what was going down in Tenino.  I said no.  Maybe I was the Toby before that would have said yes, and you would have been right.  But I’m not that Toby now.  I don’t know him, and I don’t want to know him.  But I’m glad that you’re my friend.”
     
    “Can I have a hug?” Alyssa said.  Toby acquiesced quickly and well.  The incipient passion from several nights earlier was on the back burner, replaced by the embrace of two friends glad to be alive and glad to be together in the moment.
     
     
     
    In the days that followed Toby ran through a gamut of emotions.  He was saddened at the sight of Amos’ lifeless body laid out in a plain pine box at Our Lady of Sorrows Catholic Church.  Fewer than 40 mourners attended the funeral.  Far fewer, Toby thought, than the number of people a young man should have paying respects at such a time.
     
    On the other hand, Toby’s reaction of relief that he hadn’t been involved in the grisly shootings in Tenino remained palpable.  Much of the trouble Toby had found himself in over the course of 20 years had been of exactly that sort.  A group of guys, an idea, and Toby was there too.  He intended to live his life more intentionally from now on.
     
    Toby’s boss at Harbor Lights complimented him frequently on the quality of his work.  The young dishwasher was gradually given more responsibility in the kitchen.  Pot scrubbing begat mashed potato preparation which begat soup prep.  Toby was enjoying his time in the restaurant industry for the first time in his life.
     
    As much as he was enjoying his work, though, Toby also looked forward to going home to Olympia at the end of a night’s labor.  He grew to count on seeing the glow from a banked fire in the living room fireplace, and the sight of Alyssa Boylan, reading a book with her legs tucked under her, when he got home.  The two young people would visit for a bit, 20-30 minutes, before going to their separate rooms for the night.  They would talk about movies or music, usually.  Occasionally the conversation would drift into hopes for the future.
     
    Life drifted on in this state of relative comfort for several months.  By this time the winter had given way to spring.  Rather than shoveling snow from the Boylan’s walkway, Toby was mowing the lawn for the first time in the new season when he was called to the phone by Alyssa.
     
    “It’s Scott,” she whispered, covering the mouthpiece with her hand as she handed to phone to Toby.
     
    “Okay,” Toby whispered back as he smiled at Alyssa and took the phone.
     
    “H’lo.”
     
    “Hey Toby, its Scott.  Could you come into work about a half hour early tonight?  I need to talk to you about something.”
     
    Toby glanced at the clock and calculated that he could just about finish the lawn and catch a bus into work to get there nearly a half hour early, if not before.
     
    “I can come really close if I hurry.  Is everything okay?”
     
    “Sure, everything’s fine.  I just