by Megan Hart
She pumped the pedals of her bike fast and faster, and didn’t bother locking it to the railing of Nick’s porch, but let it fall when she leaped off it. In three steps she was at his door, pounding. He didn’t open it at first and she thought he wasn’t home. She pounded again anyway, bruising her knuckles.
When at last he pulled the door open, the sight of him framed in the doorway struck her like a punch to the gut. Bess lost her breath for a second or two, then found it again. She said his name softly. Then louder.
Nick didn’t move.
“I have to talk to you,” Bess said.
He shook his head but came out and closed the door behind him. Leaning against the railing, he lit one of his cigars and blew sweet smoke toward her. “So talk.”
There was a wall as solid as brick between them, even if she couldn’t see it. Looking at Nick’s face was like staring at stone.
“I didn’t know he was coming, Nick.”
“Yeah, I figured that part out.”
It didn’t seem he was going to give her an inch. Not a fraction of one. He looked at her through a plume of smoke, and she could read nothing in his eyes.
“He says…he loves me.”
Nick’s eyes narrowed and he turned his face to the side and spat a fragment of tobacco off the side of the porch. “I bet he does.”
“Nick,” Bess said softly. “I’m sorry.”
She was sorry that Andy had shown up unexpectedly. That she hadn’t had the courage to make sure he knew she’d broken up with him. Now everything was a mess, tangling around her ankles and threatening to trip her up.
Nick’s shoulders hunched slightly, but when he turned to look at her, his back was straight. “Don’t bother.”
“What?” She took a step toward him but kept herself from raising her hand to touch him. “I—”
Nick finished his cigarette, tossed it to the wooden floor and ground it out with the toe of his shoe. “I said don’t bother, Bess. Go on to your boyfriend. I have stuff to do.”
“But that’s not what I came—” Nick pushed past her, knocking her with his shoulder. Bess stumbled back against the railing. “Hey!”
He didn’t turn at the door, just shoved it open. She followed him. The door banged into the wall hard enough to bounce back. It caught her elbow, but Bess ignored the sting and went after Nick into his kitchen.
“Don’t walk away from me when I’m talking to you!” The instant she spoke, she knew the words had been a mistake.
Nick had reached for a glass from his cupboard to fill under the tap. When she spoke, he turned, water sloshing from the tumbler. It hit the faded linoleum floor and dripped from his fingers.
“Don’t tell me what to do.” In contrast to Bess’s voice, risen into not quite a shout, Nick’s had gone low and fierce.
“I’m sorry.” She shook her head, trying to get herself under control. “This isn’t going the way I wanted it to.”
“No shit.”
“Don’t be like that!” She didn’t want to yell, but the words surged out of her and she was helpless to hold them back. “Don’t be such a prick!”
When the glass shattered against the kitchen wall, it left behind a splatter of clear liquid and the glitter of splinters against the paint. The sound echoed in her head, but it wasn’t until she felt the chill of her palms on her heated cheeks that Bess realized she’d clapped her hands over her ears. In the next few seconds the edge of the doorway hit her between the shoulder blades as Nick backed her up against it.
“But that’s what I am,” he breathed into her ear. “Or did you forget?”
He’d backed her up like this so many times before. Had breathed in her ear just this way. This time, he didn’t press his body to hers, or kiss her. He didn’t touch her, but Bess shrank from him anyway, as if he’d reached to pinch her.
“Go back to him,” Nick said. “Since he loves you so fucking much.”
It was the perfect time to run away, but Bess didn’t go. She turned her face just enough to speak into Nick’s ear, the way he’d done to her. “I didn’t come here to tell you I’m going back to him.”
“But you are going to see him. You didn’t tell him to take a walk, did you? Didn’t tell him to get the fuck out of your life?”
“No,” she said quietly. “I owe him an explanation, don’t I?”
Nick pulled away enough to look at her face. “I don’t know. Do you?”
“He said he loves me.” It was an inadequate argument, and she knew it, but while her morals may have been slippery enough to justify being unfaithful, they didn’t allow her to be purposefully cruel.
“Yeah?” Nick moved away another inch. “And what about me?”
“What about you?” Bess asked.
He said nothing.
“Nick,” she said, and put a palm on his cheek. “What about you?”
He gave his head an infinitesimal shake, and Bess took her hand away. Her throat tight, she fought back tears. She didn’t want him to see her cry.
“If you have feelings for me,” she said, “now is the time to tell me.”
Nick shook his head and took another step back. He looked into her eyes, his face as smooth and expressionless as if they were strangers. Worse than that, as if they’d never even met.
“I don’t have any feelings for you.”
Bess blinked hard. It was not what she’d wanted him to say. Not what she believed he’d say. His answer flayed her open, and she no longer cared if he saw her tears.
“I don’t believe you.” She forced out the words in a voice as shattered as the glass he’d thrown against the wall.
Nick’s only answer was a solid, unyielding stare that pushed her as physically as a fist. Bess backed through the doorway into the living room and swiped at her face. She lifted her chin and took a long, deep breath, but it did no good. She swiped harder at her cheeks.
“He’s waiting for me,” she said. “I came here first. Don’t you want to know why, Nick? Don’t you want me to tell you why I came here first instead of going to him? Don’t you want to know what I came here to say?”
Nick shook his head. Then he turned and disappeared into his bedroom. He didn’t slam the door, but the click of it shutting was as definite an answer as if he’d shouted it out.
CHAPTER 39
Now
“I’ve got to go meet Eddie to talk about the plans for the shop.” Bess leaned over Nick from behind to wrap her arms around him and kiss his neck.
He nodded, not paying attention. His hand moved the computer mouse relentlessly, clicking and scrolling. “Okay.”
“What are you looking at?” She tried to read the text on the screen, but it was hideously tiny and in a combination of awful colors that made her eyes ache.
“Nothing.” Nick clicked back to a search engine. The cursor beat like a heart in the empty search box, but he didn’t type anything in it. “What time will you be home?”
“I don’t know. Not late. Want me to pick up a movie or something?”
“Sure.” He was still staring at the computer.
It wasn’t like Nick to be so blandly accommodating. Bess nuzzled his cheek. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, sure. You go.” He half turned to kiss her, his hands covering her arms, which were looped over his shoulders.
The kiss threatened to deepen, and Bess, laughing, pulled away. “I really have to go. Eddie’s waiting.”
It was the wrong thing to say. Nick nodded, his mouth thinning, but he made no comment. Instead he turned his attention back to the computer, letting her go and dismissing her at the same time.
Annoyed, Bess pulled away. “Want me to bring anything for you?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
He looked at her then, with a frown. “I don’t need anything.”
“Okay, I was just asking.” She tossed up her hands and left before the two of them started arguing.
She’d lent Connor her car for a couple day
s until he could get his own. Andy, it seemed, was going to buy him a car. It was just the sort of grand gesture Andy was so fond of making, the kind of generosity that had once so impressed Bess but now only irritated her because it was part of a game she couldn’t afford to play.
And one she wouldn’t play, she told herself as she pulled out one of the bikes from its place in the shed to one side of the carport. She didn’t need to buy her boys’ affections. Andy didn’t either, if he’d only take the time to think about it, but Bess wasn’t going to try to point that out to him. If he wanted to buy Connor a car or Robbie a new pair of skis, she was going to let him. After all, it wasn’t like she was going to be rolling in cash anytime soon.
And, Bess thought as she pedaled streets that had started becoming familiar again, she didn’t really care about the money. After all, if she’d decided to go back to social work, she’d hardly have been raking in the bucks, either.
Besides, working with Eddie to get Just A Bite up and running had been the most fun and rewarding job she’d ever had. From getting the bank loans to writing up the business plan, Bess had learned things about herself she’d never known. She was going to be her own boss, and she was ready for it.
By the time she got into town, she’d thought of half a dozen more ideas to share with Eddie. She parked her bike in the back of Sugarland, locking it to the bike rack, and paused as a feeling of déjà vu washed over her.
The same bike, the same alley, the same Dumpster. She looked at her hands and their familiar pattern of freckles and lines. A hot breeze pushed tendrils of hair against her cheeks, and that, too, felt the same. Even her denim skirt, cut to just above the knee, and the white Keds she wore, could have been the same.
With nothing to prove she wasn’t twenty years old, Bess had no reason to believe she wasn’t. This idea slipped over her like butter melting, oozing into her every crack and crevice. The faint sound of the ocean, the louder cries of gulls, the laughter of people passing and the purr of cars inching their way around the square. It was all the same, and Bess closed her eyes. When she opened them, what would she see? The past? What would she do if she did?
She would go to Nick, she knew. This time she’d go to him and tell him the truth of how she felt about him. She wouldn’t wait. Wouldn’t lie to herself or to him. If this was the past, as it felt so surely it must be, that’s what she’d do.
Yet even as she opened her eyes at the sound of the back door opening, Bess knew she hadn’t been transported back in time. She couldn’t change the past, didn’t have a second chance. She could only sing the second verse of a song to which she didn’t know the lyrics.
Robbie came out with a bag of garbage for the Dumpster, and the sight of him pushed away the eerie, liquid feeling of being caught in a memory.
“Hey, Mom. You okay?”
“Yes. Just hot. It’s hot out here today, huh?” Bess smiled brightly, blinking against the sunshine. As soon as she said it, the words became truth. She was hot. The bike ride had left her panting and sweating, more than she’d thought. “I need to get something to drink.”
“Mom? You okay?” Robbie grabbed her arm as Bess stumbled a little bit. “C’mon inside.”
The back room was barely cooler than the alley, but sitting in one of the metal folding chairs and sipping from a jumbo paper cup of icy soda, Bess started to feel better. Robbie watched her, his blue eyes shadowed with concern. His hair had gone sun-streaked, turned from wheat to gold, a forceful reminder of just how far the summer had gone and how close it was to ending.
“Hey, Bess. You okay?” Eddie came out from the front of the shop.
“She got overheated.” Robbie answered for her. “I gave her something to drink.”
Eddie patted Robbie on the shoulder as he eased by him to sit across from Bess. “Good job. Hey, can you take over the register for me?”
“Sure.” Robbie gave her a last, cautious glance before he left.
“I really can’t tell you how glad I am I hired that kid,” Eddie said. He scooted his chair closer to Bess’s and put a hand over hers, flipping it up so he could press his fingertips to the inside of her wrist. “Your heart’s beating too fast. Drink slowly.”
“Do I look that bad?” Beneath Eddie’s fingers Bess’s pulse skipped, and she gently pulled away. She sipped the cold, sweet drink and felt the world solidify under her feet.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, that’s all.”
“Not just seen one,” she said before she could stop herself.
Eddie gave her a bemused grin. “Huh?”
“Never mind.” Bess smiled at him. “Are you ready to go?”
“Yeah.” He stood and held out his hand.
Bess took it, though she didn’t really need help getting up. The sugar and caffeine had chased away the lingering wooziness. Eddie’s hand in hers was solid. Real.
“Whoa,” he said with a chuckle as the floor tipped under her again. His other hand came around to support her beneath the elbow. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“It’s hot out there.” Bess straightened. “I rode my bike, and I guess I’m not in the sort of shape I used to be.”
“Your shape looks pretty good to me,” Eddie stated.
An uncomfortable throat-clearing sound turned both their heads. Robbie, cheeks the color of brick, held out a pile of mail to Eddie. “Kara brought this in from the mailbox.”
“Thanks.” The moment past, Eddie took the sheaf of envelopes. “Me and your mom are going to talk about the shop. I’ve got my cell if you need me, but Kara knows how to handle pretty much everything.”
Robbie rolled his eyes. “Yeah. I know.”
He laughed. “Don’t let her give you a hard time.”
“As if I had a choice,” Robbie said, but good-naturedly, before disappearing back into the shop.
The exchange had given Bess the chance to drink a bit more soda and gather her wits about her. When Eddie turned back to her, she was able to give him a smile. “Ready?”
“I’ll drive. You’re not walking that far in this heat.” He held up a hand, though Bess hadn’t protested. “I insist.”
“I’m not going to complain about being chauffeured.” Together they walked to Eddie’s car, where he opened her door for her, waited until she’d slid into the passenger seat, then closed it. The gentlemanly gesture sent a tingle through her she tried to ignore. She watched through the front windshield as Eddie crossed in front of the vehicle in loping strides that emphasized how long his legs really were.
“What?” he said as he slid into his seat and fitted the key in the ignition. He paused to look at her before putting the car in gear. “Did I miss a spot shaving or something?”
“No.” Bess shook her head and looked out her window so he wouldn’t see her stupid grin.
They chatted about lots of different things on the way to the restaurant. Talking with Eddie was so easy there was never a lull in the conversation. Never a dull moment, either, because his sense of humor made jokes out of even potentially boring subjects like mortgages and lines of credit. The jokes couldn’t disguise the fact that he really knew what he was talking about.
“I feel bad,” Bess said on the way into the Rusty Rudder. She hadn’t waited for Eddie to open the car door for her, but she couldn’t stop him from getting the door to the restaurant.
“Still? Maybe you just need something to eat.”
“No.” She shook her head as Eddie gave his name to the hostess, who led them to their table. “I mean, yes, I do.”
She was suddenly starving. “But that’s not what I meant.”
Eddie waited until they were alone before asking, “What, then?”
Bess laughed at his concerned look. “Just that you really know what you’re doing, and I’m only along for the ride.”
He waved a hand and pulled a face. “Oh, stop.”
“It’s true.” They paused in their discussion to order a bottle of wine. “You’re the one with the busines
s plan and everything. You know all about price points and stuff. It’s all a bunch of gibberish to me.”
“But you’re the one who came up with the idea, which is brilliant, by the way. Have I told you that lately?”
Bess laughed and blushed. “Yeah, a few times.”
She looked up to see Eddie smiling at her. His hair had grown longer and shaggier over the past couple months and fell over the rims of his glasses. Eddie’s hair would be coarse, Bess thought suddenly, with heat flaring higher in her cheeks. It would feel coarse under her fingertips. Not like Nick’s, which was as fine and smooth as satin. At the thought of him, she ducked her head to study the menu.
“Well, it’s true.” Eddie looked over his menu and set it aside. “I know what I want.”
“I can’t decide.” Bess scanned the rows of entrées, salads and sandwiches.
“What looks good to you?”
She looked up. “Is that how you do it? Pick what looks good to you?”
“Yes,” Eddie said with a smile that sent warmth tingling through her all the way to her toes. “That’s how I do it.”
Silence fell between them, but only for a few seconds, because the waitress arrived with their wine and her order pad ready. Eddie ordered a steak, and Bess, feeling bold, stabbed her finger down onto the menu and ordered the first thing she hit.
“Lobster tail—Oh, no,” she said with a laugh. “That’s too extravagant.”
“Order it,” Eddie said firmly. He raised his glass.
Bess nodded at the waitress, who moved away, then raised her glass, too. “What are we celebrating?”
“It was killing me, waiting until now to tell you, but we got the loan.” Grinning, Eddie leaned across the table to clink his glass with hers.
She hadn’t thought about how tense waiting to hear about the loan had made her until she heard the news and her shoulders suddenly felt as if they rose a good six inches. “Oh, Eddie, that’s great!”
