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hammering at him about partnering up: sharing project loads;
not
working himself into an early grave; maybe even having a shot at a personal life. Which he clearly didn’t, if the parade of women he’d torched short-lived relationships with—including Xan—was any indication. And then there was his burnout, spring of last year.
    Oliver would have given anything to tell his dad about all of it. Get his advice. But not today. Not ever.
Not
his parents’ problem.
    “You’ve done a lot of good with the money you’ve made,” Joe insisted. “There’s so much your mother and I couldn’t have given the kids without you. Extra school supplies and field trips and computers at the house, vacations for the family, even presents at Christmastime. Tuition for Bethany at the community college after she gave up her scholarship to art school. Specialized therapy the state can’t cover because Family Services is forever tightening their budget. My salary’s stretched to the breaking point just covering the everyday.”
    “I’m glad, Dad.” So glad, it was downright embarrassing.
    “But we’d have been just as proud of you, with or without the money you make.” Joe pointed his finger again. “Because youremembered your family. You still wanted to make a difference here—even if being with us is still hard for you. That’s worth a hundred times more to your mother and me than the fortune you’ve sent home.”
    “It’s not that it’s hard . . .” Oliver shook his head, wondering how to say what he wanted to say now that he had the chance, without worrying his parents with things that he could deal with on his own. “It’s just that—”
    Marsha appeared beside the bed. “Travis is back from grabbing a bite downstairs.”
    Her touch on Oliver’s arm felt even better than the hug she’d given him when he’d first gotten there.
    “Go spend a little more time with your brother.” Her voice was breezy and light. Her smile was the genuine article. But none of it erased the worry from her eyes. “Let me get this troublemaker to sleep a little.”
    “Trouble is your favorite thing about me.” Joe grinned at his college sweetheart. “And what makes you think I’m going to be able to sleep now that our boy is home?”
    Oliver inhaled around the desperate love he felt for these two, dreading already the reality of walking away again. Marsha was at her strongest when life threw its trickiest curveballs. Whatever she had to do, it got done. He’d admired that about her even when he’d been an f’ed-up kid.
    You’ll be fine, son,
she’d said to him his last night in Chandlerville.
You’ll make this work. And you’ll be back.
    Joe had just brought him home from county lockup—free of charges for wrapping the family van around a tree in a drunken stupor. But the damage had been done. Marsha had packed the few things Oliver owned outright in Joe’s old backpack from when he’d gone to college at the University of Georgia. She’d metOliver and Joe at the door: Oliver hung over, Joe grimly worried and ominously silent the entire ride home. Marsha had hugged Oliver, and he’d known it was over. For the first time since losing his birth mother he’d been truly terrified.
    It was time for him to figure out if he wanted to self-destruct or make a life for himself. And he was going to have to take the next step on his own.
    I know this is hard,
Marsha had said, her voice strong as she clung to him.
But I have faith in you. And we’ll be here. We’re your family, Oliver. We’ll always be here for you . . .
    Her resilience, her belief that life’s hardest struggles could make you stronger, was the constant he’d circled back to most over the years. She’d had confidence in him, even when he’d been at his worst. Now she was just as determined that Joe would get better. Eyes open, arms wide, convincing everyone else to fight a little harder than they thought they could, she was going to will Joe’s complete