Always With Me

by Barbara Freethy

  "I'll think about it."

  "All right. So, what do you like? What do you do? Are you married?"

  "I'm an artist, and I'm not married."

  "An artist? Oh, my God, I love art," Jill said with an amazed look filling her eyes. "I was an art history major. I worked at the Met in New York the year after I graduated from college."

  "I can't believe it," she said, both surprised and excited that they shared a common interest. "I guess art was in my genes."

  "I'd love to see some of your work."

  "Does that mean you'd like to do this again sometime?"

  "I would. But it's up to you. If it's just answers you want, I'll try to provide them. But if you're interested in more…

  "I'm interested," she said, meeting Jill's gaze. "I'd like to know you."

  "I feel the same way. I don't have the right, but I do have the desire."

  There was love in her mother's eyes, and she wanted to cry, but somehow, she managed to hold it together, because she didn't want to ruin the moment—the moment she'd dreamed about forever.

  "I have to go out of town this weekend," Jill continued. "I'll be gone a week. We're going to see my husband's side of the family for the Fourth of July. But maybe after that, we could meet again. I want to tell the girls about you."

  "I'd love to meet them, but only when you think it's the right time."

  "They're going to be thrilled. Is there more I can tell you now?"

  "I don't know. I have a lot of questions, but they all seem to be out of my head at the moment. I also have to get back to Whisper Lake before one."

  "I can't believe you live in Whisper Lake. I thought you were a million miles away."

  "I've actually been living in LA for the last several years. I came home to help my aunt in her antiques store. She broke her leg and has to be off her feet. Do you live here in Paxmore?"

  "Yes. We moved there three years ago. My girls love to ride, and I missed the mountains." Jill took a breath. "This has been amazing."

  "It really has."

  "I hate to leave, but I know we're both short on time today. Do you want to walk out together?"

  "Actually, I have a friend over there who's going to give me a ride." She tipped her head toward Zach, who sent back a smile.

  "No wonder he was watching us so closely. He's very handsome. Is he your boyfriend?" Jill asked curiously.

  "I honestly don't know what he is, but he's a good guy."

  "That's the important thing." Jill stood up, and she did the same. "Would it be awkward to give you a hug?"

  "Probably, but let's risk it," she said, exchanging a brief embrace that felt weird but also right.

  "I'll text you when we get back to town," Jill promised.

  "I'll be looking forward to it."

  As Jill left the café, she walked over to Zach's table and sat down, expelling a long, pent-up breath.

  "That looked like it went well."

  "It was great. So much better than I imagined it could. She was an art history major, Zach. She worked at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City. Can you believe it?"

  "That's crazy."

  "Her husband knows about me; her teen girls do not, but she wants to tell them. She wants us all to meet, to have a relationship."

  "Is that what you want?"

  "It is. She seems like a nice person, and I want to get to know her. I just have to figure out a way to tell my parents that without hurting them."

  "When they see how happy you are, they'll be supportive; I'm sure of it."

  "I don't know about that. They did all the hard work. They raised me. Now I want to hang out with my real mom? I see a lot of potential pain."

  "You know what I see?" he asked.

  "I hope it's something good."

  "I see you having enough love and time to give both of your moms and your dad, too. Hey, what about the bio father?"

  "He never knew about me. They weren't in a relationship. It was a party mistake."

  "At sixteen, that can happen."

  "Jill said she would give me his name if I wanted it, but right now, I think I'll stick with her."

  "Do you want some coffee or a pastry?"

  "No. We should go back. Thanks again for driving me, for encouraging me, for being your usual pushy self."

  "Any time."

  "I still feel like I'm in a dream, and I'm going to wake up and none of it will be real."

  "It's all real, Gianna. All of it. And I'm not just talking about you and your mom."

  "You're talking about us," she finished, meeting his gaze.

  "Yes. We're good for each other. You have my back; I have yours. When we're together, we're unstoppable. We're amazing."

  She smiled at his words. "You're making us sound pretty awesome."

  "We are."

  "But there's so much uncertainty in both our lives, Zach. You have Hailey, and I don't even know if I'll stay in Whisper Lake."

  "You'd be closer to your biological mother."

  "But further away from my career," she countered. "We might find ourselves miles apart again, just like before. Thinking about a future together seems unwise. It's too complicated."

  "The best things in life are complicated," he argued. "When we were teenagers, we didn't have a choice where we had to go. We do now. If we find ourselves anywhere—chances are that's exactly where we want to be. You just have to decide where that is."

  "So do you."

  "I already know."

  "How can you?"

  "Because I do," he said simply.

  Her heart skipped a beat at his words, at the look in his eyes, at the promise in his smile. "You are making this hard, Zach."

  "Good. It should be hard. But you don't have to decide anything now. Come on. I'll take you home."

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Gianna thought about Zach's words on the way back to the lake, but when she arrived at the store, the place was packed, and she was kept busy and distracted the rest of the afternoon. Then it was time to fill in her parents on her meeting with Jill.

  It went better than she'd expected. It started out with tension and awkwardness and then eventually evolved into understanding and relief. She'd assured her parents that they were still the most important people in her life, that meeting Jill didn't change that. And by the end of their long conversation as well as dinner and ice cream sundaes, they'd all gotten to a good place.

  Saturday morning, she woke up fresh and eager to take on the day. There were so many new possibilities in her life, and she was excited by all of them. She was also wary, too. Zach had told her that she'd end up wherever she wanted to end up. He was definitely a believer in choice. He would never act like a victim. He would own his decisions, good or bad.

  She was trying to own hers, too.

  But owning the past was a lot different than deciding the future. There was still risk there, still the potential of heartbreak. Of course, there was also the potential of real happiness. There wasn't just killer chemistry between her and Zach—there was an honesty that had been missing in her previous relationships. There was also a genuine friendship. She would miss him if she left—if he left.

  Sighing at that thought, she put Zach out of her head and focused on the task at hand. She wanted to get some pieces from the storeroom moved into the front room. Kellan would be coming in later, so she could use him for some of the heavier furniture, but as she dug through a box of smaller items, including scarves, mittens and beanies, she found herself staring at a bright-red notebook with the words My Diary scrawled across it.

  The diary had probably been dumped out of a drawer along with the other items, and the owner hadn't realized it.

  The owner…

  Was this box from the Carvers? Was this what Helen had been looking for?

  She pulled out the diary and opened the first page, her heart stopping when she saw the words: This diary belongs to Rebecca Carver.

  The date was seventeen years ago. R
ebecca would have been twelve when she started writing in the journal.

  Gianna turned the page and read through the first entry. It was all about getting the diary and how she was going to write down all her thoughts, all the things she wanted to say but couldn't.

  The next page was filled with school ramblings: getting Mr. Collins for seventh-grade math, wondering if she could change her seat so she could sit next to Michael Gregory, who was so cute.

  Gianna took the diary over to the couch and sat down, skimming through the next several entries. She felt a little guilty reading through Rebecca's thoughts, but Zach was so certain that Rebecca had a secret, and this might be the only way to find out if that was true.

  As she read through the journal, huge chunks of time were skipped. They went straight from the seventh-grade winter carnival to the first day of eighth grade, to Rebecca's thirteenth birthday, and then to middle school graduation, to the start of high school.

  When she turned the next page, the writing was somewhat streaked, as if water or tears had smudged the ink.

  Her stomach tightened as she read a more disturbing entry…

  He's at the house again. He keeps watching me. I know it's wrong. I told Mom I wanted to sleep at Dana's house, but she wouldn't let me go. I shouldn't be scared of him, but I am. I'm just being silly, aren't I?

  She turned the page.

  The next entry was four days later.

  I want to die. I found Mom's anxiety pills. I was too scared to take them all, so I just took a couple. I felt better for a little while. But then I remembered what happened. Mom says I dreamt it, or that I'm making it up to cause trouble. But I'm not. She's just trying to cover for him. I told her that, but she won't back down. She loves him too much. She loves him more than me. That's why she's protecting him instead of her daughter. I want to leave. I want to run away, but I can't. I feel trapped.

  Gianna drew in a deep breath, more than a little bothered by Rebecca's last entry. Someone had hurt her. A man who had been at the house. It didn't sound like Ron, but it was someone her mother loved.

  God, she hoped it wasn't Mitch. But that wouldn’t make sense. Mitch was four years younger than Rebecca. He would have been ten at the time of this entry. It had to be someone else. She was almost afraid to find out.

  Her phone buzzed, and Zach's name flashed across the screen. "Hello?"

  "How are you?" he asked. "I missed you last night."

  "I missed you, too. Zach…but something has happened."

  "What?" he asked warily. "You're not going to tell me that you want to take another break, are you?"

  "Not at the moment, but…"

  "But what? Did things go badly with your parents last night? Your text sounded like it went well."

  "It did. I sound funny because I just found Rebecca's diary."

  "Are you serious?" he asked in shock.

  "It was in a box filled with winter gear. I don't think anyone knew it was in there."

  "Have you read it?"

  "I'm reading it now. Someone hurt her, Zach. I haven't gotten to who yet. But I think you should read it."

  "I'll be there in ten minutes. I'm leaving the inn now."

  "I'm in the storeroom. We don't open for another half hour, so come in the back door." She paused. "Do you want me to stop reading?"

  "No, keep going. Then you can tell me what I need to know."

  "Okay. I'll see you soon." As she set down her phone and picked up the diary again, she wondered if it would be difficult for Zach to read Rebecca's thoughts. For him, it would be a much more personal experience. Maybe it was better if she continued on. She would be able to prep him before he had to actually hear Rebecca's voice in his head.

  The next entry was two weeks later…

  I didn't sleep at all last night. Every time the floor creaks, I imagine it's him again. So, I stay awake. I keep Mitch's baseball bat by my side. I have to be ready. Because she'll let him back in the house. I know she will. She's weak. I used to think she was the strongest person I knew, but she's not. She's afraid of what people will think. She's afraid of everything. I want to tell Dad, but how can I? He'll look at me differently. He'll think it's my fault, too. He always thinks it's my fault.

  Gianna's heart went out to Rebecca, to the fear she'd been living in. She'd been fourteen, whenever this horrible thing had happened. Gianna had known Rebecca when she was that age, and she'd had no idea. Rebecca had never shown her turmoil on the outside. She'd been popular, the life of the party…but she'd had a terrible secret.

  She flipped through the next few entries, which turned away from the darkness. It seemed like Rebecca was making an effort to be normal, writing about school again. And then there was another jump in time. It was two years later.

  He came back tonight. He looked at me like nothing had ever happened. He wanted to joke, to laugh. He wanted me to care about him. And she wanted the same thing. She wanted me to pretend. God, I hate her. Fortunately, I was able to climb out the window and go to Maggie's house. I won't go back until he's gone.

  Gianna frowned, wishing Rebecca had written down a name. But maybe she just couldn't bring herself to do that.

  The next entry was a year later.

  I am going to college today. Thank God I can finally leave this house. I'll never live here again. Hopefully I'll be able to sleep at college. I feel like this is my fresh start. I can be someone else. I don't know who that is. Maybe if I can sleep, I'll be able to figure it out. I'm leaving you behind, diary. I'm leaving everything behind. I'm sure my mom will read these pages and I don't care. I want her to know what she did to me, how badly she hurt me. It was worse than what he did. I'll never ever let any child of mine go through what I went through.

  Gianna looked through the rest of the diary, but Rebecca had kept her promise not to write again. As she fingered through the somewhat yellowed pages, she knew that Helen had read the diary, probably many times, and her heart had torn a little more each time.

  The door opened, and Zach strode into the room, purpose and fire in his eyes. "Well, what did you find out?"

  She stood up. "Rebecca was abused in some way. She doesn't go into detail. She doesn't name names, but she states that her mother protected this person, this man—that it was someone Helen loved."

  "Ron?"

  "No, it wasn't her father. She says once that she wants to tell him, but she's afraid. She thinks he'll blame her."

  "You're saying that someone molested her in her house?"

  "Yes. And she told her mom. But her mom said it wasn't a big deal and that it would never happen again."

  "Wasn't a big deal? What does that mean?" He ran a hand through his hair, his eyes troubled.

  "I don't know. I feel like it was a relative or a friend of Helen's. The first entry was when she was about fourteen. But he was there again two years later. She said she climbed out the window to sleep at her friend's house. She only posted one more time when she was leaving for college. She said she hoped she could finally sleep again. I guess because she couldn't rely on her mother to protect her, she had trouble closing her eyes. She used to sleep with Mitch's baseball bat."

  Bleakness filled his gaze. "I told you before she had trouble sleeping when she was with me. And she had to have two exits, a front door, and a fire escape. I asked her more than once if something had happened to her, but she always said no. Why did she lie?"

  "I think there was shame. She blamed herself in some way. But not as much as she blamed her mother for forcing her to keep the secret, for protecting the person who hurt her." She paused. "What are you going to do about it?"

  "I'm going to confront Helen and Ron. It's time to put all the cards on the table."

  "I agree. In Rebecca's last note, she says she'd never let anything happen to any child she had. That she would protect them. If there's someone in Helen's life that could possibly still be around…"

  Anger flared in Zach's eyes. "Then Hailey could be in danger. Hell, something could hav
e already happened, and I wouldn't even know."

  "You should read the diary. You might understand more than I did."

  "I'll do that right now."

  "Why don't you take it upstairs? Nora will be here any second, and she's a lovely person but a big gossip. My apartment door is unlocked."

  "Okay. Thanks."

  "I'll be up soon." She wanted to sit next to him as he read the diary, but she had to get the store open. And maybe it was better if he had a few moments to himself.

  Rebecca's voice, her pain, haunted him. Zach leaned his head back against Gianna's couch and thought about what he'd read. He'd never imagined a secret this big. But why hadn't he? Why hadn't he pushed her to open up to him, to tell him why she couldn't sleep, why she felt she had to drink and do drugs? Could he have gotten her to talk if he'd tried harder? Could he have changed what happened? Could he have saved her life?

  The questions ran around in his head. He'd felt guilty before, but now it was so much worse, because he knew the truth, or at least part of it. Helen would have to fill in the rest.

  She'd resist. She'd call him a liar. She'd try to get Ron to kick him out of the house, but he had the diary, and he was no longer willing to sit back and be patient, to try to find a compromise. He needed to protect Hailey now. He needed to do that not just for Hailey but also for Rebecca.

  Picking up his phone, he called Mitch.

  "Hey, what's up?" Mitch asked.

  "I found Rebecca's diary. I'm going to take it over to your parents' house today. You might want to be there."

  "Why? What's in it?" Mitch asked warily.

  "You don't know? You never looked in your big sister's diary?"

  "No way. She kept that hidden. Where was it?"

  "In some box that your dad gave to the antiques store when he went on his cleaning binge."

  "Let me read it before you talk to my parents."

  "No," he said flatly. "I'm sorry, Mitch. I have to confront your parents. If you want to be there, you can all hear it at the same time."

  "I don't know if they're home."

  "Then I'll sit on their porch until they return."

  There was a long pause on the other end of the phone.