Free Yesterday by Fern Michaels Page B

didn’t know his beginnings, how could he know where he was going in life? He now had the wherewithal to make that search, if he wanted to. Hatch would help him. Jesus, what if he needed a bone-marrow transplant someday and he couldn’t tell the doctors anything about his parents? Hell, he’d just up and die if they couldn’t find a match or whatever it was they did in such situations.
    What was it Judge Summers, his mentor, had said? “Leave it alone, Bode. You can’t undo the past. You might stir up something you aren’t prepared to deal with.” So, he’d listened and hadn’t done anything. But not doing anything had held him back from forming relationships, because he didn’t have a background before the age of six. Girls, women in particular, always wanted to know about parents, bank accounts, and things like that. Grandparents always came into play when the word marriage entered the conversation.
    He wished now, as he had wished millions of other times, that Clemson Parker had adopted him the way he planned to. At the time he’d just been so grateful to be allowed to stay at Parker Manor he didn’t consider the adoption important. Nor did it become really important until he went away to college. Or maybe it became important the day Callie said, “The Judge told me that there’s barely enough money for me to go to college so you can’t expect me to share my fund with you.” Then she’d gone on to say she didn’t mean that the way it sounded—but she had meant it. He’d wanted to hit her that day, to tell her it was he who had paid for her brand-new bicycle, all those pretty dresses and fancy shoes. He’d even paid for her first car, a shiny little Triumph, and all those dancing lessons, riding lessons, piano lessons. He’d honored his commitment, paid his dues, earned his keep, and been kind to Callie Parker. The Judge said it would build his character, make him a better person. He was right, it had—but at what cost to him personally?
    For a time he was in love with Callie Parker, or as much in love as a schoolboy can be. He’d never acted on those feelings in any way. Mama Pearl reminded him, gently, for she always did things gently, that he had to stay in his place, and because he loved her and respected her, he’d done what she said.
    Then he’d fallen in love with Sela, and Pearl had taken him out to the barn and laced into him with a vengeance. She said she couldn’t control what Sela did away from Parker Manor, but she wasn’t going to allow such goings-on at home. Instead she’d instructed him how to tactfully, and in a gentlemanly way, tell Sela that her behavior was unladylike. When he’d tried, Sela had laughed wickedly, and said, “Want to experiment?” He’d taken off like a scalded cat. He’d gotten so many hard-ons that year he thought his penis was going to fall off.
    Then came the fights. The boys at school learned early on not to tangle with Bode Jessup, so if they had sex with Sela they didn’t brag about it. It was the best he could do. Then, as if by magic, Sela settled down and really listened to him during her last year in high school. In college she had several affairs that she said were meaningful, but the men weren’t marriage material. Then she’d paid him the supreme compliment by saying, “I’m looking for another Bode Jessup.” .
    “Briana Canfield.” Bode watched as his childhood friend reached out to shake the dean’s hand. He brought his own hand to his mouth and let loose with a long, sharp whistle, the same kind of whistle he’d practiced when they were children and it was time to go fishing and the girls lagged behind. He watched as Brie turned and almost tripped, a stunned look on her face. She knew it was him; he could see her eyes search the crowd.
    Bode interrupted his roll call to rub the grit from his eyes. He felt sober once more, and wondered if he really was. He must be; otherwise, why was he dwelling so much on the past? Because I