Lindsey chuckled. “I think we both need to let go of our nervousness, don’t you? I already feel we’re friends.”
“I agree. We can work on that tomorrow during our hike.”
“See you then.”
Cloe set her phone on her bedside table and turned off the lamp. She fell asleep with a smile on her face.
Chapter 5
Lindsey entered the pub and glanced around. David had texted he was already there. She caught movement at a booth in the back and spotted her brother waving. She maneuvered around the other tables. He stood, gave her a hug, and kissed her cheek, his scruffy beard tickling her.
Sliding into the bench across from him, she teased, “I see you’re still trying for your starter beard.”
He rubbed his chin. “I don’t know. Gayle seems to like it.”
“She’s supposed to. She’s your wife.”
Their waitress approached, and they ordered their usual—a local craft brew.
David said, “How have you been, Linds? And don’t give me some bullshit answer to make me feel better.”
“Damn, David. Give me a chance to respond.”
He sat back and crossed his arms. “Tell me you weren’t about to say ‘fine,’ and you can pull your indignant act.”
She stared at the table before meeting his eyes. “I’ve had some bad dreams lately. I think it’s because Eric’s birthday was a few weeks ago.”
David uncrossed his arms and reached for Lindsey’s hand. “You didn’t call like you usually do. I was worried.” His voice held no criticism.
Lindsey attempted to swallow the lump in her throat. “I’m sorry, Davey. I was afraid if I called, I’d only feel worse.”
They shifted back in the booth to allow the server to set down their tall glasses of beer. As soon as the server left the table, David leaned on the table to catch her eye. “Hey, sis. I wasn’t saying that to make you feel bad.”
“I know,” she said softly. “How are you? I know his birthday has to be hard on you and Gayle.”
He took a moment to sip his beer before answering. “This year, Gayle and I decided to celebrate his life rather than mourn his death. We went to that ice cream shop he was so fond of. Remember? The one that we took him to after all his baseball games?”
Lindsey smiled at the memory. “Yes.”
“We called you and left messages. We wanted you to join us.”
“I know. I was afraid you’d want to talk about Eric, so I didn’t return the calls. Besides, I’m not at the same place as you and Gayle are in your grief. I’m still pissed off at God, remember?”
“You need to find a way to move past that, Linds.”
“I don’t think I can.” She bit her lower lip to keep from lashing out. “Jesus, Davey. He was only eight when he was diagnosed. If God was going to call someone, why didn’t he call me? I would’ve taken his place in a heartbeat.”
David’s dark eyes flashed. “Don’t say that. Don’t you dare say that. You mean so much to Gayle and me. We don’t want to lose you.” He took a breath as if to calm himself. “We didn’t want to lose Eric, either. I don’t have all the answers as to why Eric was taken from us at such a young age. You know how they say you never want to bury your own children?” His eyes filled with tears. “God, that is so true. It gutted me. Gayle is just now coming out of her depression.” He stared out the window. Lindsey followed his gaze and watched as rain splattered against the pane. It was as if God was crying right along with him. “We went to counseling for weeks at a time. You know that. We still go every other month. We attend a group for grieving parents. Sometimes that gets hard to take, and we back off for a while. But we feel we can be supportive of others.” He turned to her. “What I’m trying to say is we’re living our lives the best we can. Sometimes it’s day to day. But we go on. Eric would’ve wanted us to.” He ran his finger along the condensation of his glass. “Remember what he told us?”
“Jesus, Davey. Please.”
“You need to hear it again. He waited for you to come back into the hospital room so he could tell all of us together.”
She ducked her head, unable to meet his gaze.
Her brother continued. “He said he knew we’d be sad because he knew how much we loved him. But if—”
Lindsey raised her head. “But if we loved him, we’d remember him the way he was before he got sick, and we’d be happy he was no longer in pain.” She swiped at her own tears.
“Try to hold onto those words, Linds. Sometimes they’re all that keep me going. But if my little boy—” He stopped as his voice cracked. “If my little boy could be that brave in his final hours here on earth, then I have to at least try. If not for myself, it not for Gayle, then for him.”
Lindsey couldn’t take it anymore. She stood up and went to his side of the table and held him while he shook with silent sobs. Their server approached their table but hesitated. Lindsey shook her head slightly, and the server returned to the bar. Lindsey rocked him, not caring they were in a public place, not caring that others might be watching. She rocked him like she did when they were kids and her little brother was scared of the dark.
He straightened and wiped his eyes. “God, sometimes I don’t know where this comes from.” His face reddened as if he were embarrassed, so Lindsey quickly got up and returned to her bench.
“It comes from your heart, Davey.” She grabbed a napkin and dabbed her eyes. This was why she didn’t like to talk about Eric. It was so fucking painful. Those therapists that stressed getting in touch with your feelings? She bet they never experienced such grief or such pain.
She turned to the bar and nodded at their server, and she approached their table.
“Have you decided what you’d like for lunch?”
Lindsey said, “I’m not too hungry. How about an order of potato skins?” She checked with David. “Will you share with me?”
“Actually, that sounds good. That’s all I’ll have, too.” Their server walked away with their order. “What’s new with you? You look like you got some sun.”
“I went out on the boat with Fred the other day.” She smiled at the memory.
“What’s that look for?”
“Hmm?”
He pointed at her. “That little smile.”
“Just remembering the time out on the water.”
“Nope. Not having it. I’ve seen that smile before, and it means more than that. What’s up? Remember, you can’t lie to your brother. I know where the bodies are buried.”
“Fred decided to take a swim.”
“That’s not so unusual, is it? I know he likes the water.”
“He jumped off the boat.”
“Holy shit.” He said the words as their server carried over their potato skins. At her raised eyebrows, he muttered, “Sorry.”
“I’ve heard worse, believe me. Enjoy.” She motioned at their glasses. “More?”
“I think I’m good,” David said. “Linds?”
“One’s my limit.”
They each placed a potato skin onto their plates and dug in. Around a bite, David said, “Is he okay? After his dip in the lake?”
“He was fine.” Another grin tugged at her lips.
David was about to take another bite and stopped as the fork approached his mouth. He set his fork down with a loud clank. “Okay. That smile is about more than Fred getting wet.”
Lindsey felt her face heat up.
“What’s going on? You hardly ever blush.”
She hesitated but made the decision to tell him. “I think I’ve made a new friend.” She quickly corrected herself. “No, I have made a new friend.”
David made a rolling motion with his hand. “And?”
“Her name is Cloe Parsons. Her mom and dad own the store up the road from the cabin. You know the one? Where I get my groceries?”
“I remember.”
“She’s delivered my groceries for a few weeks. We’ve had some conversations.”
“You? Y
ou struck up a conversation with a stranger?”
“Jesus, Davey. You make me sound like an ogre.”
He shook his head slightly. “It’s not that. You’ve been so reclusive. I’m surprised you talked with her. Because I bet she was just dropping off the groceries, right? Isn’t that how you usually have them do it?”
“Yeah, but I heard her talking to Fred the first time, so I came out to the porch and we chatted for a bit.”
“That’s it?”
“We had a few other conversations. She’s the one who helped Fred out of the water after he jumped from the boat on Sunday. He saw her, which is why he jumped. He really likes her.”
“Well, you know what they say about dogs. They have good instincts. That says something about Cloe.”
Lindsey relayed how Cloe brought Fred home and that they chatted over cookies and milk.
He grinned. “You’ve found someone who loves Oreos as much as you do.”
“I didn’t think it was possible. I thought maybe we were a dying breed. Anyway, we exchanged numbers, and I asked if she’d like to go hiking this afternoon. Maybe join Fred and me on the boat sometimes.”
David looked a little stunned. “Wow.”
“What? You thought I was incapable of friendship?”
“No, I’m a little surprised with how quickly you connected with her.” He patted her arm. “It’s a good thing. You need friends. You can’t hide out there forever.”
Lindsey thought how she’d been doing just that since Eric died. It wasn’t that hard, either. But meeting Cloe had brought sunshine back into her life. After living in the dark, maybe it was time she allowed herself to feel the rays and experience happiness again.
“I like her,” Lindsey said.
“Like, like her?”
Again, Lindsey felt a blush hit her cheeks.
“Never mind. You answered my question.”
“It’s not like that.”
He took another bite of his potato skin. “If it were, would it be so bad?”
“She’s probably a good ten years younger than me.”
“So? That shit doesn’t matter anymore.”
“You’re so eloquent, little bro.”
He pushed his plate aside after he finished his last bite. “Seriously, Linds. If this is someone who interests you, go for it. Don’t shut down.”
“And if I only want to be friends?”
“Then do that.” He leaned his elbows on the table and gave her a hard look. “But don’t completely dismiss the possibility of it becoming something more.”
Lindsey didn’t respond. She sipped her beer as she thought of the afternoon she was about to spend with Cloe. She smiled. . . again.
Chapter 6
Standing at Lindsey’s front door, Cloe stared down at her worn jeans and hiking boots. She wished again she could somehow dress up for their date, yet still have the proper attire for a hike. Date? Where did that come from? This wasn’t a date. They were going for a hike to find a way to take Lindsey’s mind off writing.
“Get it together, Cloe.”
Because she was turned away from the door, she didn’t hear it open and was startled when Lindsey said, “Talking to yourself?”
She spun around and fell into Lindsey’s blue eyes. “Um.”
Lindsey grinned. “It’s okay. I find myself doing that, too. They say it’s a sign of a good imagination.” She stood back for Cloe to enter. “Come on in. I need to put my boots on.”
As she walked away, Cloe noticed she had dressed similar to Cloe—jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt. Fred trotted over to her and pawed her leg. She bent over and rubbed his ears. “Hi, Fred. You’re joining us, aren’t you?”
“I hope you don’t mind if he does. I know we talked about it, but I wanted to double-check.” Lindsey sat down to slide on her boots.
“Are you kidding? Fred and I are buds.” He groaned when Cloe hit an especially sensitive spot.
Lindsey glanced up from her lacing. “You’re spoiling him.”
“Please. He was spoiled long before I entered the picture.”
Lindsey stood and started toward the door. She reached down to grab her backpack. “I packed some water and energy bars.”
Cloe waved toward her truck. “The same.”
“I think we’re set then.” Lindsey clipped on Fred’s leash and locked up behind her.
Cloe went to her truck, lifted out her backpack, and swung it onto her shoulders.
Lindsey motioned down the street. “We need to head that way about a half a mile. There’s a trail that meets the road. It’s an intermediate one. Is that okay?”
“Sure.” At least Cloe hoped it was okay. It’d been awhile since she’d gone hiking. She hadn’t admitted that to Lindsey because she wanted to spend time with her, even if that meant huffing and puffing to keep up. She had a feeling that’d be the case after seeing Lindsey in her swimsuit. The woman was built. Cloe still had visions of Lindsey’s abs and how it would feel for Cloe to press her lips along the muscles. Oh. My. God. What is wrong with me?
“You all right there? You’re flushed.”
Which made Cloe blush even more. She touched her cheeks. “It’s a little warm.”
Lindsey paused in walking. “Do you maybe want to go a different day?”
“No,” Cloe answered quickly. There was no way she wanted to waste a chance to spend time with Lindsey. “I’m fine.” She decided to make it look more realistic by slinging her backpack down and grabbing a bottle of water. She guzzled it for a few seconds, wiped her mouth, and returned it to her bag. “I’m fine,” she repeated as she zipped up the pack.
They continued down the road. Fred tugged a little harder on the leash as they reached the entrance to the trail.
“I guess he knows the way, huh?” Cloe asked.
“Yeah, we’ve taken this trail a lot. Fred has it memorized.”
The entrance to the trail was wide enough for them to walk side by side. They trudged along in silence for some time before Cloe spoke up. “How was your lunch with your brother?” She glanced over at Lindsey when she didn’t answer right away and noticed her frown. “If you don’t want to answer—”
“No, no. It’s not that.” Lindsey sighed. She stared down at the ground and seemed to come to a decision. “We got into a serious discussion, one I wasn’t ready for.”
Cloe let her continue.
Lindsey stopped walking and took a deep breath. “About Eric.”
In one way, it surprised Cloe. In another, it didn’t. From the hint of what Lindsey shared about her brother, he probably didn’t let Lindsey get away with hiding her feelings.
“We started talking about him when David asked how I was doing. I was about to bullshit my way out it, but Davey would have none of that.”
“It sounds like he really loves you.”
“Oh, he does.” Lindsey kicked at the dirt. “And I love him. It’s just that. . .” She let her voice trail off.
Cloe said, “It’s just that it’s still painful.”
Lindsey nodded, and her lower lip trembled. “We talked about what Eric told us in the hospital.” Lindsey stopped, took a breath. “That he wanted us to carry on. He wouldn’t be in pain.” Lindsey slammed her fist into her thigh. “Can you believe that? A dying nine-year-old telling us to be brave.” She covered her mouth as she let out a sob.
Cloe couldn’t help it. She had to hold her. She put her arms around Lindsey and pulled her close. She felt Fred push his way between them and lean into Lindsey. At first, Lindsey tensed. Then she relaxed and hugged Cloe tighter. Cloe rubbed one hand up and down Lindsey’s back. Without thinking, she brushed the fingers of her other hand through Lindsey’s hair and kissed her temple.
“It’s okay to cry, Lindsey. It’s okay,” she said gently as she continued petting Lindsey’s hair.
Lindsey pulled away and slapped at her wet cheeks. “God, I hate this fucking shit. Hate it!” she shouted. Birds startled from the trees as her voice echoe
d. She started down the trail, taking long strides.
Cloe struggled to keep up but didn’t say anything. She let Lindsey get several feet in front of her. She had a feeling that a lot of Lindsey’s anger was in allowing her vulnerability to show.
Lindsey finally stopped and turned toward her. “I’m sorry. You’ve been nothing but kind to me.” She spoke so quietly that Cloe had to lean closer to hear. “I have no right to take it out on you.” Lindsey ran her fingers through hair. “This is why I’ve never gone to therapy. I can’t see the benefit if it makes you feel like shit.”
Cloe gently gripped her arm. “I think you’re supposed to feel like shit, at least until you work through whatever it is that you’re struggling with.”
Lindsey grunted. “And pay the therapist, what? Over a hundred dollars an hour so they can run you through the wringer? No, thanks.”
“I get why you wouldn’t want to do it.”
Lindsey slid a sideways glance her way. “You do?”
“You’re a strong woman, Lindsey Marist. It doesn’t surprise me you want to do things your way.”
“Do you think I’m right?”
Cloe stalled for time by taking out her bottle of water and sipping it.
Lindsey must have sensed she was hesitant to answer. “It’s okay, Cloe. You can be honest.”
Cloe wiped her mouth and met Lindsey’s eyes, which were laser-focused on Cloe’s, as if to discern Cloe’s honesty.
“I didn’t say you were right, but what I am saying is you’re doing what’s right for you. Now. That could change in the future. There might come a time when you’ll feel the need to seek out a counselor, but only you will know when that time gets here.”
Lindsey shook her head slightly.
“What?” Cloe asked. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No. It’s that you’re the first person who didn’t tell me I’d be better off going to a therapist. First, it was my ex, Elise. Then David and his wife, Gayle. Then my editor, for God’s sake.” She pointed at Fred. “That’s another reason I love him so much. There’s no judgment from him. Only unconditional love.”
Just a Touch Away Page 5
