by Amanda Ashby
“You just caught me,” her stepdad said. “I’ve got a meeting, and your mom should be home in an hour. If you see her wielding a screwdriver you know what to do.”
Norah mustered a smile. “Yup. Threaten to throw away her hot sauce until she goes back on the sofa.”
“You got it.” Greg pressed a kiss into her hair. “And you’ve got some mail. Looks like I’ll be going to the framers on Monday.”
Once he was gone, she picked up the large envelope. It would be a certificate from Carol, the charity’s fundraising coordinator. She shook it out and stared at her name on the front.
Norah Richmond
In appreciation of your donation. Thanks to your hard work, we’ve been able to provide one hundred and three new toilets…
So many more than they’d been aiming for. Guilt caught in her throat. It shouldn’t be her name there. Sure, it was her idea, but she hadn’t been alone. It was Piper, Gareth, all the other volunteers, and—
Don’t. She cut herself off. Thinking about him wasn’t going to fix anything. She grabbed the certificate and ripped it in half. And half again. Then she took it to the outside trashcan where Greg and her mom couldn’t find it. The last thing she wanted was to see it in a frame. She walked back in and fumbled around in her purse for the bag of candy she’d bought earlier.
Sour gummy bears.
She unenthusiastically ate one. It tasted disgusting. On her desk was a stack of information about water purifiers, but she ignored it and reached for another gummy bear. It tasted even worse. Tomorrow she’d be better, but right now all she wanted to do was mope.
xxxx
Norah woke with a start and fumbled for her phone. It was only six at night, and—
“Aaaaaaaaarghhh.” The cry was followed by a panting sound coming from the hallway. She bolted upright and pushed the covers back.
“Mom?” She raced for the door and stumbled out. Her mom was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall, her face red and twisted in pain. Norah’s heart slammed against her ribs. The baby wasn’t due for another two weeks.
“It’s okay.” Her mom let out a long breath, pressing her spine against the wall. “It’s not labor. Just Braxton Hicks contractions. I’ve been getting them all week, and they still hurt. A lot,” she gasped as her face puckered in pain again.
Norah forced her own panic back and dropped down beside her.
“Count your breath,” she said, relieved when her mom nodded, and some of the tension lessened around her jaw. She let out a second breath and then a third.
Then she closed her eyes, and they both sat there for several minutes until her mom reached for Norah’s hand and clasped it.
“It’s passed for now.”
“You sure?” Norah studied her face. “Should I call Greg? The hospital? Just to be safe?”
“No, but you can sit here with me. It’s ages since I’ve seen you.”
Norah grimaced as guilt nibbled at her. She’d told them about the breakup but hadn’t given any details. And, because she hadn’t wanted them to worry, she’d taken to spending as much time as she could in her room.
“Sorry.” She rested her head against her mom’s shoulder.
“Don’t be,” her mom said, then frowned. “And how did you know about the breathing? You didn’t come to any of the classes.”
“Zac told me about it. Good for pre-match jitters,” she said, then swallowed. Saying his name was hard.
“If you want to talk, I’m here.”
Tears prickled her eyes and her throat tightened. “I can’t. It hurts.”
“Not all things that hurt are bad. Remember that thirty-five-hour labor? It gave me you, which was a pretty good deal,” her mom said. Her voice was smooth and warm, like it had been before the accident. Like it had been through every painful day, and every terrible nightmare. Like it always was.
Norah let out a sob and buried her face in her hands.
When she finally stopped, her mom was still there, and slowly Norah tried to explain what had happened.
“I know it sounds stupid, but if I hadn’t stopped it, I would have been waiting for it to happen. For him to figure out he’d made a mistake and leave. I never showed him the scars. I didn’t want him to see I was maimed.”
Her mom stiffened, eyes filled with disbelief. “Norah, you’re not maimed. And if Zac really likes you he wouldn’t think that.”
“Why not? Dad did.” She choked as her fingers slid along her damaged skin. The memories burned. “I heard him, you know. What he said. That I was maimed and when he looked at me…that was all he could see.”
Silence hung between them and pain flashed across her mom’s face.
“Your father was an amazing man. When he was having a good day. But not all days were good. He had lots of dark thoughts. Most started before the accident. When you were born he panicked he’d mess up, that he’d hurt you. So, after the accident…well…it was his worst nightmare come to life. The guilt consumed him. He didn’t leave because of you, he left because he couldn’t love himself anymore. Didn’t trust himself.”
Was it true?
Norah swallowed as her dad’s face flashed into her mind. Of him weeping after the accident. Of holding her hand in the hospital. Of the letters he’d sent after he left. She hadn’t believed any of it. Not after hearing what he’d said. It had all been like an arrowhead in her mind. All pointing in one direction. All telling her the same thing.
That her scars made her unlovable.
“Do you believe that?” Her voice was hoarse.
“I do. He didn’t just leave you, he left me too.” Her mom’s voice was fierce. They were silent again, and Norah closed her eyes. She’d been so young and so focused on the accident she’d never stopped to think how her mom had felt about the divorce. Guilt hit her, and she pressed her head against her mom’s shoulder.
“Did you miss him?” she whispered.
“Of course I did. But I also felt sorry for him. You see, he loved us both but didn’t feel like he could be around us.” A shudder rippled through her mom’s face. “And the reason I know it is because he sent me a letter. To apologize. He said he was doing a lot better and wanted to discuss being able to see you again.”
What?
“Why didn’t you tell me?” The words were ripped from her throat.
Her mom dipped her head. “Because it arrived a month after his heart attack. I guess it had been lost in the post, and by the time I read it, it was too late. It seemed cruel to tell you about something that was no longer possible, but if I had any idea you thought he’d left because of your scars I would have. I’m so sorry. You have to know it’s not true. Look at me, I stuck around. And there’s Greg. You know how much he loves you.”
She did know. Her stepfather had never been anything short of amazing, but she’d never even thought about it. Just assumed he was like that because he wanted to please her mom.
Her hands drifted to the scars on her stomach. The puckered skin brushing against her fingertips. There was a lump in her throat, and her head was pounding. Zac had told her she’d been sidelining herself. Keeping herself safe by not letting anyone have a chance of hurting her.
Was he right?
“I don’t know what to think,” she finally said.
“Not everyone in your life is going to stay, but they’re not all going to leave either. And even if they do, it doesn’t mean it will be because of your scars. Norah, if your dad was still alive he’d be so proud of you. You’ve always faced everything head on. Your operations. Your fundraising.”
“Not everything.” Guilt cleaved her chest. She hadn’t faced Zac head on. Not even close.
You’ve never let me see them.
Because despite what he’d said, she hadn’t believed him. Even then, he hadn’t left. Not until she’d pushed him away. So it wouldn’t hurt.
But it hadn’t worked. Not even close. The last two weeks had been the worst. All she could think about was his pale fac
e and stiff shoulders as he’d told her to use small words so he could follow. Then he’d accused her of not believing anything he said. All because she’d been too scared.
Not everyone’s going to stay. But not everyone’s going to leave either.
She let out a strangled sob. “Mom, I think I really messed up.”
“We all mess up, honey. Question is, what are you going to do?” her mom said in a soft voice.
It was a good question. What was she going to do?
He probably never wanted to talk to her again.
She couldn’t even blame him, but there was one thing she could fix.
She helped her mom to her feet and took her into her bedroom. Once she was settled, Norah collected her laptop and curled up at the end of the bed. She opened her emails, searching for Carol’s name. The least she could do was tell them why her auction had been so successful. Because of Zac.
17
Zac groaned and rolled over. His phone blinked with ten missed calls from Pete and Max. It would either be about going out to a party tonight or about tomorrow’s game. He’d call them back later. Or not. He considered turning on his computer, but he couldn’t be bothered to stand up, so he lay on his side and stared at nothing in the darkened room.
Worst Friday night ever.
There was a knock at the door.
“Go away, Via,” he said. She’d been hovering around for the last few days, but he’d been dodging her. The door opened and she stepped in. Her arms were full of clothing, which she threw at his head.
“What’s your problem?” he protested as he raised a hand to catch them.
“You’re my problem. Now get up,” she retorted as she flicked on a light, and he realized she was wearing workout gear. Since when did she work out?
“Leave me alone,” he said, throwing the clothes onto the floor. “And why are you dressed like that?”
“Because we’re going for a jog,” she said in a matter-of-fact voice as if it was something they always did. He blinked.
“You hate jogging. And it’s Friday night.”
“Both correct,” she agreed as she scooped up the clothing and threw it at him again. “Which shows what an awesome sister I am. Now get dressed. I’ll be waiting outside, and if you’re not there in five minutes I’ll come back and nag you some more.”
He rubbed his chin as she walked from the room. Most of the time his sister was laid back, but every now and then the stubborn gene kicked in. He reluctantly dragged off his T-shirt and jeans and pulled on the workout clothes she’d slung at him. He pushed his feet into some sneakers and yanked open the door.
“Happy?”
“Thrilled,” she retorted and walked down the stairs without waiting.
He followed her outside. The dark sky was brightened by the pale moon and the intermittent streetlights. He often jogged at night, though this was the first time his sister had ever come along. He did a couple of stretches, but before he’d finished, Via took a deep breath and ran down the driveway.
She was holding her arms wrong, and her stride was way too long for her height. He didn’t bother to tell her as he easily caught up. They jogged to the end of the block without speaking.
“What’s this about?” he asked as they hit Sunset Street.
“You once told me I needed to get down from a tree because it wasn’t where I did my best thinking,” she said, panting.
“Another Zac Mackenzie pearl of wisdom. They should put that on my gravestone,” he retorted. She made a growling noise.
“Stop making everything into a joke. It’s not funny. You keep lying in your room as if you’re suddenly going to feel better. But when do you ever sit still? You only figure things out when you’re moving.”
The combination of speaking and running was taking a toll on her, and she came to a stop. Even in the darkness there were two bright balls of color in her cheeks, and she was wheezing.
“You okay?” he said.
“No. This played out better in my head,” she gasped.
Despite himself, he laughed. “Is this where I apologize for being a pain in the butt?”
“No, it’s where you tell me what’s going on. You’ve hardly moved or spoken for the last two weeks. You’re seriously freaking me out.” She blew a strand of hair out of her eyes and managed to stand up straight.
He let out a sigh. “Fine. You want to know what happened? Norah broke up with me because she doesn’t believe I really liked her. She thinks I was only with her for a joke. Because guys like me don’t date girls like her.” Then he told Via everything that had happened. He didn’t mention the car accident or the scars—that was Norah’s business—but the rest of it came tumbling out.
When he was finished, Via’s gaze swept across him. “You’re upset she didn’t believe you, but it sounds like you didn’t believe her either.”
Not quite the answer he’d been expecting. “What are you talking about?” he growled.
“You said she didn’t believe you really liked her. That you think she’s beautiful.”
“She is beautiful,” he snapped, then held up his hands. “Sorry, but it pisses me off she can’t see it. Not that it matters. I’m just a dumb jock who’ll have his head turned as soon as someone else comes along.”
“Except you said she got annoyed every time you called yourself dumb,” Via reminded him, and he went stiff.
“Yeah, but she didn’t mean it.”
The clawing in his chest returned. The same as when Norah had thrown those words at him. It was never real. Like he wasn’t smart enough to know when he liked someone. It was the same feeling he’d had every time he broke a window, failed an exam, or fell off a fence. Like he was a dumb guy who didn’t know better.
His jaw ached, and adrenaline pounded in his temples.
“Yes, she did. Zac, it’s the same thing. You know she’s beautiful, and she knows you’re not dumb. The problem isn’t what you both think about each other, it’s what you think about yourselves,” she said, her voice dropping lower. “Seeing yourself in a different way is a big attitude adjustment.”
He sucked in a breath as he stared at his sister. Over summer, when she’d first started dating Hudson, she’d struggled to be comfortable with other people looking at her, but she’d done it. So well that the other day he’d caught them making out in the cafeteria as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
Hell.
Was she right?
Norah had tried to tell him over and over again there was more to him than just soccer. He was the one who hadn’t believed her.
The thought hit him like a steel fist in the guts.
He leaned over to steady himself, his mind slamming thoughts together in a confusing swirl.
“What am I meant to do? She dumped me, Vee.” His voice was a croak.
“Well, yeah.” She gave him a pat on the arm. “But the pair of you are idiots.”
The raging torrent of thoughts slowed and he blinked. “You really need to work on your motivational speeches.”
“I’m serious. How did you get so good at soccer?”
“I’m naturally gifted, have great spatial awareness, plus a killer right foot.”
“No, Zac. You’re good because you practice. A lot. A sickening amount. Yet you’ve only dated once before and it was a disaster, and Norah hasn’t dated at all. Any surprise the pair of you messed it up?”
For the first time in two weeks, a sliver of hope crawled into his chest.
“What should I do?”
“No idea, but that’s why we’re here. Go jogging and don’t come home until you’ve figured it out. Now excuse me. I need to go and collapse,” she said and hobbled off in the direction they’d come. Zac waited until she’d turned the corner and then started to jog.
The dormant energy coursed through his veins as his feet hit the pavement in a steady beat. By the time he’d done three miles, his mind was whirling. He stopped to catch his breath as an idea came to him. It was c
razy. Kind of stupid. Then again he’d done crazier stuff, and right now it was all he had. He turned back toward the house, running faster. If this was going to work, he needed to make some calls.
xxxx
Zac usually loved match day. The ritual of getting up and eating his favorite cereal from the same bowl he’d used ever since he’d been named player of the year in eighth grade. Then he’d have his shower and put on his lucky socks and clean T-shirt. Always white. But when he’d climbed out of bed twenty minutes ago, he’d done none of those things. He’d simply thrown on the first shirt he could find and blazed into the kitchen. He plucked a piece of toast out of Via’s hand and grabbed the car keys.
“Hey,” she complained. “Eating that.”
“Not anymore you’re not,” he retorted as he raced out of the house and jumped into the car. It was ten blocks to Piper’s house, and right next door was Gareth’s place.
This was it. Match day adrenaline surged through him as he marched up the path and pressed the doorbell. Via was right. He was much better when he was up and doing things.
Gareth appeared several minutes later. “What the hell?”
“We need to talk.”
“Negative. Get lost, scumbag.” Gareth glared at him.
“Sorry, that’s not going to happen,” Zac assured him. “Not until you give me the date token for Norah.”
Gareth’s eyes bulged. “You’re the jerk who broke her heart. You think I’m going to let you torment her for an entire date?”
“Yup,” Zac said in a cool voice, his gaze unflinching. “Look, here’s three hundred bucks to cover what you paid. Give the rest of it to the charity. Just let me have the coin so I can speak to her. Please. I swear I won’t hurt her.”
Gareth stared at the money then reached into his pocket and pulled out a single gold coin with Norah’s name written on it. He held it up as something flashed across his face.
“Fine. But I don’t want your money. I want your help. Tell me how you do it.”
