A Thousand Letters

by Staci Hart

  My heart skittered in my chest at the maybes, the hopefullys, the daydreams of a future after I thought all I'd wanted was lost.

  So I'd floated through the morning with the kids in the quiet house. Charlie was locked in the office working, and Mary was shopping with Dad and Beth. The little bit of normalcy was welcome.

  The kids were almost finished eating when someone knocked on the door, and Charlie trotted up the stairs from the first floor to answer it. I heard Jack's voice when the door opened, and my heart jumped anxiously. I'd forgotten about him completely — the whole of me was focused on Wade.

  They walked into the kitchen, laughing as they passed the threshold of the room, and I smiled at them as I cleaned up.

  "Hey, Elliot," Jack said, smiling sheepishly with his hands in the pockets of his coat.

  "Hey," I echoed as Charlie walked by, grabbing a grape as he passed the dish on the counter. He tossed it up in the air and into his mouth.

  "Heading back to Rick's?" Charlie asked.

  I nodded. "I was going to put the kids down for a nap first."

  He waved a hand. "Don't worry about it. I've got it."

  "Thanks, Charlie." I dunked a bowl into the bubbly sink water and scrubbed it.

  Jack pulled off his coat and walked over to the sink, grabbing a dishtowel. "How did it go last night?"

  My only thoughts were of Wade, of his hands and skin, the smell of him mingled with pine and campfire. "Rick was so surprised, so happy. It was a good night."

  "That's great." I could hear him smiling as he spoke — my eyes were on my hands.

  "Thank you so much for lending your gear." I rinsed the bowl and passed it to him to dry. His fingers grazed mine, and my stomach flipped with surprise at the contact. "I didn't know you'd be stopping by or I would have brought it back with me."

  "Oh, it's fine. I didn't expect it back just yet, just wanted to stop by and see how the night was."

  "Thanks to you, he had a wonderful time. I haven't heard him laugh so much in a long time."

  The front door opened, followed by chatter and the rustling of bags and footfalls.

  I exchanged a look with Charlie, who grabbed the baby wipes and began the task of wiping the kids up.

  "Hello?" Mary called.

  "In here," Charlie answered, and a second later, there she stood. Her smile fell as she looked over the room, her calculating eyes falling on me last.

  "What are you doing here, Jack?"

  I passed him another bowl, and he took it cheerily — Mary's frost clearly had no effect on him. "I came by to see how the party went for Rick."

  "I don't know why you're so invested in the whole thing. You don't even know him." I shot her a look, but she'd already moved on. "Charlie, we need help with the bags."

  He dabbed at Maven's cheeks. "I'm busy."

  She huffed. "Elliot can do that. I need your help."

  "Elliot's leaving, so figure out your shopping bag problem on your own."

  Jack wiped off his hands. "I'll help."

  Mary scowled at Charlie. "At least someone cares. Come on, they're in here." She turned on her heel with her nose in the air.

  Jack smiled down at me with a wink. "I'll be right back. Don't leave without me — I'd like to walk you back to Rick's, if that's okay."

  "Sure." I smiled back politely, hoping in the back of my mind it would give me a chance to tell him the truth about how I felt about him. Or, more importantly, how I felt about Wade.

  Once Charlie and I were alone, he scoffed. "God, she's gotten worse since your dad has been here, don't you think?"

  I sighed, washing the spoons. "It always happens this way. It's like they feed off each other."

  "How did you survive as a kid? It's like a sheep in the wolf's den."

  "I had books. Lots and lots of books."

  He laughed at that and sent the kids out. "You know, I really like you and Jack together. I've been trying to make that happen for years, did you know?"

  I kept my thoughts to myself, washing dishes like my life depended on it. "No, I didn't."

  "He's a great guy. One of the best."

  "Oh, are we talking about Jack?" Dad said from the hall as he entered the room with his quivering Chihuahua under his arm. He looked like a vulture: hungry eyes, the skin of his neck sagging just enough to betray his age, his camel coat hanging from his shoulders, lined with the slightest bit of fur, fashionable if not ostentatious.

  Charlie smiled. "Yeah. They've been spending a lot of time together lately."

  "Well, I approve," Dad said.

  "Me too, Walter," Charlie added.

  "He's quite a catch, Elliot. You're not likely to find another man with money and looks who's interested in you. Maybe if you put in a little … effort you'd have more prospects, but Jack … Jack is something else, all right." He smiled, lips curling up at the edges.

  Charlie cleared his throat. "Let me finish that up, Elliot, if you want to go."

  I turned, wiping my hands on a dishtowel, grateful for him. "Are you sure? I can stay a while longer."

  "I'm sure. Go on, and good luck over there."

  Dad stopped me as I passed. "Don't spend too much time over there, not if you've got Jack interested. I'd hate for the Winters boy to interrupt anything between you and him."

  I didn't acknowledge his words. "I'll see you later, Dad."

  He nodded, looking pleased with himself, and I walked out, wondering more and more what I was doing there. I heard Jack and Charlie and everyone in my mind, and for the first time, I didn't feel defensive. I heard their truth.

  I pulled on my coat and hat in the hallway, and just as I finished, Jack walked in with Mary on his heels. He smiled. She scowled.

  "Ready?" he asked, reaching for his coat.

  "I am," I answered.

  "Then let's go." He placed a hand on my back, and I felt myself flush. "See you, Mary."

  We left quickly enough that it didn't seem at all strange that she didn't answer.

  Once again when we were outside and the door was closed, I felt myself breathe easier, underscoring with newfound clarity just how unhappy I'd been there, with Mary, with my father.

  "So," Jack started, "anything on the agenda for today?"

  "Nothing big. We're planning Italy for Rick tomorrow night, so tonight is just hanging out."

  "Italy, huh? Wine and pasta?"

  I chuckled. "Among other things."

  "Bread?" he joked.

  "Yes, bread. We're shooting for a picnic in the Italian countryside."

  He nodded. "It's really kind of incredible, what you're doing for him."

  "He's very well loved. I only wish there was more we could do."

  "Do you think you'll be over there late tonight?"

  "I'm not sure. There's no real agenda, why?" I asked stupidly, realizing my mistake too late.

  "What do you think about joining me for a friendly-very-patient-with-no-kissing dinner?"

  "Oh," I answered, the word a breath as anxiety over my impending refusal set in. "Jack—"

  "Before you say no, I'd like to state my case."

  "All right," was all I could say.

  "As mentioned, I am patient, though maybe more persistent than I let on. I like you, Elliot. I like you, and you're shouldering a lot. You could use a night away, a night out where you don't have to think about anything but yourself and what you want. You don't have to worry about Mary or the kids or Rick or broody guy. You could use a safe place, and I happen to be extraordinarily safe. Maybe when things settle down we can be more than friends, but for now, I'm perfectly content with that, if it's what you want. I just … I like you, and I'd like you to join me for dinner tonight. Will you do me the honor?"

  He quieted down, giving me a moment to think about how to respond as we approached Rick's house. It wasn't untrue, me needing a safe place, but I had no intention of dating him, and it felt wrong to proceed without him knowing.

  We slowed to a stop at the steps of the house,
and when I looked up at him, I saw his hope fade as he took in my expression.

  I touched his arm, and he took my hands. "Jack, I'm sorry. You've been … well, you've been a great friend to me in a time when I needed one. But …" I collected myself and told him the truth. "Time won't change the fact that I'm in love with someone else."

  He nodded down at our hands. "Let me guess. Broody guy?"

  I pursed my lips and released them. "Yes," I answered quietly.

  "I should have known." His words were soft, blameless. "Judging by his reaction to seeing us the other day, I think he's in love with you too."

  "It's been that way for a long time. It's just not so simple as us being together, that's all. I'm sorry. I … I didn't mean to mislead you."

  He shrugged, still looking down. "It's okay — you didn't. You were pretty clear from the start. I'm just not great at taking the hint." He met my eyes and smiled. "We can still be friends, though, right? Real friends, if I promise no expectations of more from my end?"

  I smiled back, relieved. "Of course. I really have enjoyed spending time with you. I hope we can still have that."

  "I wouldn't have it any other way." And with that, he cupped my cheek and leaned in, pressing a kiss into my other cheek chastely as I stood there, frozen to the spot. "I'll see you around, Elliot."

  "See you, Jack." My cheeks were on fire, my heart racing from the surprise of his gesture, and he smiled at me once more with his hand on my cheek before turning and walking away.

  I took a deep breath and tried to put it all behind me. I'd cleared the air with Jack, spent the morning compositing my thoughts, and now I was ready to face Wade, to talk to him, to tell him how I felt.

  Nerves flitted around my chest, and I smiled. I was in love with Wade, and there was a chance he was in love with me too. Seven years had disappeared into thin air at the thought.

  I climbed the steps and knocked on the door, my hope sliding down into my shoes when it swung open to Wade, shoulders square and eyes sharp and flinty as steel.

  "H-hi."

  He said nothing, just turned and walked away, leaving the door gaping.

  I stepped inside and closed it, my heart clanging, my uncertainty shaking me. He'd walked into the living room and to several stacks of books, which he sorted through, stacking them with noisy thumps. One slipped off the top and hit the ground, and a swear word hissed through his lips as he reached for it, slamming it on another stack.

  I crept into the threshold of the room. "Are you okay?" I asked quietly.

  He didn't turn or look up. "No, I'm not fucking okay." Another book stacked with an angry thud, but it was too much force, knocking the pile off center, and the stack fell over.

  I moved toward him, hands outstretched for the books. "Let me help you."

  He blocked me with his body, still not looking at me. "I don't want your help."

  I pulled my hands back, wounded, somehow still surprised that he would once again shut me out. But clarity washed over me — of course today he would be different.

  He was as unreliable and inconstant as the weather, and I stopped myself from reeling, recognizing the situation for what it was. Last night he'd just been caught up in the moment, emotional, sentimental. Wade was upset about his father; nothing about what happened had been about me.

  I was through guessing which version of him I'd get when I walked through the door. I was through being pushed and pulled and toyed with.

  But even still, I wanted to help him. Even still, I wanted to heal him.

  "What's wrong, Wade?"

  At that, he looked over his shoulder, his eyes full of hurt and anger. "What's wrong?" He stood, turning to face me like a brick wall. "What's wrong? Everything is wrong, Elliot. I've been sitting in this house for a week waiting, just waiting. Waiting for the seconds, the minutes to count down until the end. I've got my dad to think about. I've got my sisters to think about. I've got everyone to think about before myself. So no. I'm not okay. And no, I don't want your help."

  I couldn't breathe, the shock hitting my lungs, freezing them as he blew out of the room, snatching his coat off the peg before opening the door, disappearing just before it slammed behind him. Ben glanced at me apologetically as he trotted toward the door, coat in hand, and the door opened and closed once again before I could finally take a breath.

  Sophie hurried in, concern on her face, and she reached for me, pulling me into a hug. "My God, what happened? I'm so sorry."

  I shook my head numbly. "I … I don't know. I just tried to talk to him and he just … just …"

  "Ben will bring him back. He'll apologize, I know it — he didn't mean it."

  I pursed my lips to stave off my tears, not believing that his frustration with Rick was all there was to it. The realization dawned on me that the room overlooked the street, that he could have seen outside. And Jack had kissed me.

  I pushed the thought away, wondering if I would have a chance to talk to him. Wondering if he would listen to me if I did.

  She pulled away, her eyes searching mine. "Elliot, I'm sorry."

  "You don't have to be sorry. You didn't say it."

  She shook her head. "No, I'm sorry because I haven't been here for you. You've been suffering too, and I've missed everything. Something's going on between you two, isn't it?"

  "I … I don't even know. But please," I pleaded. "Please don't do that. If I needed you, I'd tell you."

  "No, you wouldn't. Not right now."

  I marveled at the change a few words could make, how they could take me from the top of the world to the depths of emotion with a string of syllables and punctuation.

  I pulled Sophie back in for a hug. "No, I wouldn't. You're right. But I'm all right. I'm here for you, not for me."

  "But I'm not the only one in pain. Who will help bear yours?"

  My chest ached from the weight. "Don't worry about me, Sophie. I'll be all right." I whispered the lie, wishing it were truth.

  Wade

  My jaw ached, clenched so tightly spots swam in my vision as I barreled down the sidewalk, ignoring Ben, who called my name from behind me.

  I hadn't been watching for her out the living room window, not exactly, but I'd found myself at the front of the house more often than usual, my thoughts on her, my eyes searching for her beyond the windows to the city as I recited the admissions, the truth about how I felt about her, the apology for hurting her over and over.

  And instead of making it better, I hurt her again. I was destined to hurt her forever.

  What I'd hoped for was a homecoming. What I'd wished was to tell her everything in my heart. What I'd expected was the sweetness of forgiveness, for which I'd waited so long.

  What I didn't expect was him. I didn't expect what I'd seen. I didn't expect to have my wishes, my hopes, exploded with napalm, detonated by a kiss that wasn't mine, laid on lips that were.

  I couldn't see what all happened — she was blocked by his body — but I didn't need to. The image of her hands in his, of her flushed cheeks when he pulled away and I could see her again, it was all too much. Last night, I thought she'd made another promise to me. I thought she'd promised herself to me.

  Wrong again.

  "Wade," Ben called after me. I walked faster.

  My intentions hadn't been as clear as I thought. Or they had, and they didn't mean to her what they meant to me. I should have told her the night before, when the truth was laid out in front of us. And because I didn't, I had no idea how she felt or what she thought. I hated myself for thinking we could be more, that we could go back or forward or anywhere.

  I was too damaged, too broken, and I'd only keep hurting her.

  "Stop," he said, grabbing me by the arm. I spun around, ripping my arm from his grip.

  "What?"

  His eyes narrowed, and he squared his shoulders. "What's the matter? What happened?"

  My nostrils flared as I pulled in a breath. "Doesn't matter."

  His jaw ticked as he flexed it
. "You're not getting out of this. What happened?"

  I swallowed, not wanting to admit anything, not wanting to say it out loud for fear it would make it more true. So I stood there silently for a moment, grappling with the words.

  Ben shifted, folding his arms.

  Another deep breath, and I said it. "Jack kissed her. I saw it."

  "Jack?"

  "The guy."

  His eyes widened with recognition. "You need to talk to Elliot." He said the words like I was overreacting, and my anger flared.

  "Why? I don't need an explanation. I got all the explanation I need." I gestured back toward the house. "So, no. I'd like to be spared the rejection. I've had enough of that from her for a lifetime."

  Ben scowled at me. "You don't even know what happened. Don't assume—"

  My hackles rose, the hairs on the back of my neck standing at attention. "Don't you get it? I can't hear her justify Jack to me, not after everything. I don't care. I don't care." I yelled the lie as if volume could make it true.

  He didn't say anything, just watched me with a stern look on his face.

  "You don't understand," I said as the wildfire burned in my chest. "We're too far gone, Ben. Sometimes things are too broken to put back together. I should just stay out of the way. At least he's here. He can be what she needs. Sometimes you've got to walk away, let it go."

  His eyes softened, colored with sadness. "Because that's been so easy for you to do before? With an ocean between you and years gone by? How will you manage with her right there in front of you?"

  I hung my hands on my hips, eyes on the ground like the cracks in the sidewalk held the answers. "I don't know, Ben. But I don't have a choice."

  I wished that I did. I wished it could have been me. But I'd ruined my chances with her years ago, and I of all people knew that there was no way to go back.

  Elliot

  Rick called my name from the library, and I turned away from the window overlooking the street. I'd been watching for him, waiting. Always waiting. But he'd never come. He probably never would, not the way I wished for.

  "I'm here," I answered, trying to put Wade back in his box as I walked down the hallway and into his room. It's just that the lid wouldn't stay on.