The Years Between Us

by Stephanie Vercier

  “In a familial way, as Dani’s mother, I do. That’s it. And it would be nice if I could give everything that I give to Izzy to someone else. It would be nice to move on.”

  His serious expression cracks. “You taken up with someone special, Luke? Well, she’s just going to have to understand that—”

  I reach out and grab him by the collar, just like I’d done with David. I can’t take it anymore. His cluelessness, his lack of caring for anyone but himself. “She doesn’t have to understand anything you fucker. What she deserves is a man who can focus only on her, not a guy torn between two worlds.”

  “Chill,” he says, grabbing at my hands but unable to loosen my grip. “Who is this girl? She must be special for you to lose your shit like this.”

  “You deserve to be six feet under,” I snarl at him. “It’s you that should be in a grave instead of Brandon, instead of—” I let go of him, turn and grip my head, trying to get a hold of myself.

  “That was an accident,” he shoots back, free of my grip. “You still blaming her for that?” he accuses.

  “I blame both of you,” I tell him, this man who isn’t worthy of breathing the same air that my son once did.

  This man who is my brother.

  To that, he says nothing. And then I walk away before I’m tempted to break his face.

  This isn’t a day for tears. As I drive back to Echo Ridge, all I feel is anger. And the only thing that will quell that is Claudia.

  Back at the house, I smell that lotion of hers, the sweetness of strawberries, and that’s what she is—sweet, innocent, someone who cares for others beyond herself. I thought I’d seen the same in Isabelle when I was young, but I’d been wrong about her. I was blinded by love I should have saved for someone else. But there was Dani and Brandon. They’d been worth the pain, but when I think about how Brandon’s life had been cut short, the anger rips right through me again.

  Claudia isn’t in the living room or the kitchen, and I storm upstairs looking for her, needing her so desperately. I must look as though I’m full of rage because she startles when I find her in the master bedroom, curled up in a chair and reading a book.

  “Luke?” It’s as if she doesn’t recognize me.

  I charge over to her, pull the book out of her hands and bring her to her feet, pulling her body close to mine. “I need you,” I say, holding the back of her head as I whisper into her ear.

  She sighs, then wraps her arms around me, and I drop my hand from her hair. She eyes me with concern and suspicion. “What’s happened to you?” she asks. “Is Danielle okay… or is it… is it your ex-wife?”

  “Dani’s fine, and I don’t want to talk about Isabelle.”

  “No?” There is a hurt in her eyes. I can see it, but I’m not capable of doing anything to help her through it right now.

  “I need you, Claudia,” I tell her again, sure I can hear the ragged, wanting edge in my voice as I ask.

  She looks at me like she needs so much more than that, but she nods and drags her hands up to my shoulders and then through my hair, to the back of my head, her touch like electricity, hardening me, making me need to be in her like nothing else.

  With closed eyes, I kiss her, envelop her, pushing my tongue against hers, gripping her sweet ass and holding tight to her hair and the back of her head. She whimpers, and I think she must like this, maybe needs it as badly as I do. With pressured desire, I undo the button of my jeans and slide down my zipper, then lift the bottom hem of her dress and reach down, thumbing at her clit and reveling in how quickly she gets wet.

  She pulls hers lips from mine, as if just for air, and with my eyes now open, I hungrily push my lips toward hers again. She holds back, drags a finger down the side of my face, her eyes searching mine for something maybe I can’t give her right now. And even if she hasn’t found what she was looking for, she still gently presses her lips against mine. I want to be there with her, in this gentle, loving place, but I’m not, and I take her by the hips, pull from the kiss, and whip her around so that she has to support herself against the wall. And then I pull her dress all the way up while I yank her panties down. I’m so damn hungry for her as I grab my cock from the confines of my boxer briefs, spread her legs, step forward and drive up and into her.

  “Ohhhh… fuck, yes.” I snap my head back, close my eyes, and with a firm hold on her hips, I thrust my hard dick into her tightness.

  I tilt my head back down, keep the hem of her dress held above her lower back to keep the gentle curve of her hips and the roundness of her ass clearly visible as I pound into her, watching my cock penetrate and bury itself inside of this beautiful girl.

  “God, you feel good,” I moan out, increasing my thrusts, pounding her harder than I ever have before. I’m angry and raw, and this is the only thing that’s making it better.

  I wrap a hand around to her front, under her dress so that I’m holding her soft, sweet naked belly. I’m pulling her closer to me just as I’m thrusting harder into her, so fast that I can’t hold back and come hard inside of her, so fucking hard that I groan and throw my head back while I grind the last of my release into her. The relief is intense, one that goes beyond the physical. My anger dissipates, and I open my eyes and kiss Claudia’s neck.

  “I love you.” I’m gripping her body like I’ll never let her go, my dick spasming a few last times into her.

  She is silent, and her body goes a little limp as I begin to calm down, while my heart rate settles and my breathing closes in on normal.

  “Claudia?” I pull myself out of her. “Claudia… you okay?” I’m worried now and can’t seem to turn her body fast enough until she’s facing me.

  “I’m okay,” she whimpers out.

  But she’s not.

  She’s crying.

  “Oh… fuck. What did I do to you?”

  She shakes her head. “I don’t know… that wasn’t you,” she says between tears.

  “Claudia… shit…” I pull her to me, knowing now that I lost control, knowing I took my anger out on her, that what just happened was one-sided. I’ve scared her. I’ve made her cry.

  “That wasn’t you,” she repeats, pushing against my chest and then away from me. “That wasn’t you at all.”

  “I fucked up, and I’m so sorry.” The shame comes suddenly, like a weighted chain around my neck. I take a step toward her, but she just takes one step back.

  “It’s because of her,” she says, crossing her arms over her midsection like she’s shielding herself and our unborn child from me. “You’re angry because of Isabelle.”

  It’s more than that. So much more. “I can try to explain.” I hate seeing the fear in her eyes that is directed at me, wanting just so desperately for her to let me touch her again.

  “Not today.” She wipes at a tear. “I’m going into the guest room.”

  “Claudia.” Again, I step toward her, not wanting her to go but knowing I can’t stop her.

  “I just need to be alone… to think,” she says, bending over to pull up the panties I’d ripped down to her thighs.

  “To think that you and I are a mistake?” I fear that. I’ve given her reason enough to think that just now.

  She picks her book up off the floor, clutches it to her chest, then moves to the door. “To think about what I’m doing,” she says, and then she walks out the door.

  I stumble back, sit on the edge of my bed, press my hand hard against my head, tempted to get up and punch a fist through a wall. But that won’t help. All I can do is wait, wait for Claudia to think and hope to god I haven’t just ruined the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  CLAUDIA

  The ride into town had been mostly a silent one. Luke wanted me to say something, to somehow absolve him of what he’d done the afternoon before, but I wasn’t going to do that… not yet. I had thought about it half the night, am still thinking about it now while I’m trying to focus on work at The Nut Monger. But the more effort
I put into remembering and trying to understand, the more sick my stomach feels, the more I question if I really know Luke at all. The man he’d been yesterday was forceful and incensed—he didn’t even see me. I felt invisible to him, like I was nothing more than a vessel for him to fuck and take his anger out on.

  Maybe I’ve just been stupid and naïve. Maybe I saw in Luke only what I wanted, making life decisions with a man I’ve only known for a couple of months. I’m not in any way ready to give up on him because I still believe in him—I believe in us—but if I’m wrong and I bring a baby into this, it could be the worst mistake I’ve ever made. It’s not too late, not too late for an abortion and a clean slate. But how can that be the right choice either when I’m so confused, when it might just be another rash decision?

  Halfway through my shift, my phone rings, and with nobody in the shop I answer the call from my mother.

  “How’s my daughter?” she asks in a sort of disinterested monotone.

  “I’m okay,” I say, making sure to smile as I do and hoping it will somehow convey happiness over the phone.

  “We’re going to be making our way back from Florida, you know?”

  “Yes, I know.” I haven’t once lost count of the days I thought would spell the end, or at least the interruption, of my time with Luke.

  “We can drive in to collect you once we’re settled back in Seattle,” she goes on, “but it will be without the boys. Even here, they managed to get restless, so we’ll be sending them to that summer camp on Whidbey Island to work off their remaining excess energy.”

  “Oh? Oh… okay.” I’m stung by a sense of sadness that I won’t be seeing Cory and Kyle anytime soon, but I’m happy for them too, that they’ll get a chance to be around boys and girls their own age, out of the city and away from my parents.

  “Okay? Just okay? You sound kind of down,” she tells me, her voice tilting up in volume.

  “I’m—”

  “Is it because you’re going to miss Echo Ridge, dear, and hate us for taking you away from it?” She says it like it’s a sad joke, like I’ve been away at some silly amusement park and not in a town where I’ve fallen in love for the first time.

  And it pisses me off.

  But, even if she has trouble understanding what Echo Ridge might mean to me, she obviously noted a sadness in my voice I hadn’t meant to portray, my feelings about Luke bleeding through.

  “I’m going to miss my job and my friends,” I tell her, filled with an urge to fight to remain here and have the time to figure out what my future could really look like with Luke. “And it’s going to be lonely in Seattle with the boys gone and you and dad going back to work. I won’t even have that job I’d planned on.”

  There is a sigh on Mom’s end of the line. “What kind of mother am I leaving my daughter alone all summer?” she asks, as if I wouldn’t be left alone in our house in Seattle.

  “I’m not alone.” I’d always wanted to push to stay here until school started up again, but it feels more important than ever that I don’t leave when things are in such a precarious place with Luke, when I’m finding myself so unsure of this child I’m carrying.

  “No, not technically, but how well do you really know anybody in that town beyond Danielle?”

  Considering I’d been checking in with her and Dad every single day, she should have a better idea of this. But checking in mostly via text doesn’t equal actually talking or her or Dad absorbing anything I have to say.

  “Well enough. I love my boss, and I’ve met a lot of other people, and being here is really good for me, Mom.” I don’t add that some of those people are sort of awful, including David and Emily, and I sure as hell don’t tell her that Danielle is MIA.

  Another sigh followed up with several long moments of silence. Mom knows as well as I do that she and Dad will jump full force back into their high-powered jobs when they get home and that I’ll be left mostly on my own. Really, it’s just about control, about keeping me under their thumbs for as long as they can, feeling like they’d already given much of that up this summer.

  “If you were to stay through August, then I’d want to visit,” she begins, and I breathe a sigh of relief that she’s beginning to acquiesce. “And I’d want you home at least one or two weekends because I refuse to see nothing of you this entire summer and then just send you back off to WSU.”

  “I can totally do that.” I meter my voice, not wanting to make this sound like a win for me. “I’d just have to arrange it with my boss, Rhonda, but I don’t think it would be a problem, and I think Luke… I mean, I think Mr. Prescott would even drive me home to Seattle for those visits.”

  “You’re on a first name basis with Danielle’s father now?” she asks, missing nothing.

  I silently curse myself, then say, “Everyone calls him Luke. He hates it if you don’t. I think it makes him feel old.”

  “I suppose that’s true,” she says with a tinge of leeriness. “He has corrected me once or twice. Fine… we’ll play this by ear. I’ll let you know when we get back home and are settled in, and we can decide on weekends.”

  “Okay, Mom. Thank you and give my love to Dad and the boys, okay?”

  “I shall,” she says and then hangs up.

  I’m overjoyed about my small coup, but that joy fades as soon as my mind returns to my uncertainty with Luke. I can at least hope my extended stay will give he and I enough extra time to provide answers that I need.

  Rhonda is bright and cheery when she comes in, and I do my best to match her mood. We spend a few minutes talking about the day’s sales, as we usually do when she takes over in the afternoon, and then she places her hand over mine and asks, “Are you doing okay, honey?”

  I’m apparently really terrible at hiding my feelings. “Yeah. Maybe just having one of those days, but I talked to my mom, and she said I could stay the rest of the summer, so I can keep working here if you still want me?”

  “Well, of course I do!” She hugs me, and it’s the hug from a mothering figure, a hug that is filled with more care and love than I think I’ve ever gotten from my own mom. “That’s just wonderful.”

  “Thanks for giving me the opportunity. I’m going to miss this place in the fall.”

  “You can come back every summer until you graduate,” she says, “until you get a career going and off the ground.”

  “That’s so sweet,” I tell her, though if things don’t work out with Luke for some reason, I’m not sure I could ever come back.

  “And I do hope everything is okay.” She tilts her chin down and eyes me just like a mother should. “Luke is being good to you?”

  My breath catches when I try to answer, when I try to quickly affirm that everything is great.

  “Claudia?”

  “Everything is fine.” I lift my lips into a smile. “And he should be here any minute. I should—”

  The bell above the door rings, and Luke walks in. He’s wearing a ball cap, the bill of it nearly hiding his eyes. In a button-up and cargo shorts and sneakers, he’s casual but still makes my heart skip a beat—even being upset with him doesn’t take away how gorgeous he is. But his looks can’t stop that nagging, fearful sense in my gut that something has broken between us, that there are things I can’t fix.

  “Hey, Rhonda,” he says, walking toward the counter.

  “Luke.”

  “You ready, Claudia?” His voice is low, his eyes barely meeting mine.

  “Yeah.” I take a deep breath, slip my apron off and gather up my purse. I know he and I need to finally talk this out, but I’m so afraid of what he might say considering he’s had nearly an entire day to think about us.

  “You take care, honey,” Rhonda tells me as I walk around the counter. “And call me if you need anything, all right?”

  “I will,” I say, following Luke as he turns and then opens the door for me, not touching me or saying anything else until we’re outside.

  “Did you tell her what happened?” he asks me, no
t exactly angry, maybe just embarrassed.

  “Of course not,” I hiss back. “I would never.”

  “I am sorry,” he tells me, his eyes still hidden.

  “I know, I—” Someone pushes into me, nearly knocking me off balance. But Luke steadies me, then turns to the person who had obviously gone out of his way to ram into me.

  “Slut,” David says, already walking past us but turning his head over his shoulder, revealing dark and angry eyes.

  “You fucking piece of shit!” Luke doesn’t wait for David to say another word. He just goes after him, punching him in the face before I can do anything to stop it.

  “Luke!” I rush after them, David probably deserving that, but I don’t want Luke to get embroiled in something that will probably just bring him trouble.

  David is on the ground. His nose is bloodied, and he’s cowering, sliding his butt back and pushing himself with his feet while Luke looks on. I stand next to him and grip my hand around his arm.

  “Luke,” I say calm and evenly. “Leave it be.”

  “Yeah, listen to your slut girlfriend,” David snarls, almost daring Luke to go after him again.

  “Don’t you dare talk to her like that.” Luke takes a step forward, and I try to hold him back.

  “It’s true!” David scrambles back to his feet while keeping his distance. “When did she start spreading her legs for you, huh?”

  “What in the world is going on out here?” It’s Rhonda’s voice, and when I turn to her, there is a look of horror, confusion and disappointment in her eyes.

  “Your son needs to learn some manners.” Luke’s eyes still burn into David.

  While I stand next to Luke, Rhonda goes to her son, takes his arm and looks up to him with unease. “What happened here?”

  David points to Luke. “He punched me… first he starts screwing his daughter’s best friend, and then he hits me!”

  “Why in the world would you do that?” Rhonda asks Luke, pulling a tissue out of her pocket and handing it over to her son for his bloodied nose.