The Possibility of Perfect (A Stand By Me Novel Book 4)

by Brinda Berry

  “Ah.” Dad’s response is clipped, loaded with judgment. He’ll never understand why Ellen means anything to me at all. But he’ll also never state that opinion—unlike Mom.

  “I’m not sure how long I’ll be there. Maybe only an hour or so.” I back out of my driveway. Paisley, a single mom next door, waves at me with her free hand. She holds a toddler on her hip and strolls along with a tiny dog at her feet.

  Every person, every object brings Josie to my mind.

  Will she tell me to get lost because I’m asking her to make promises she doesn’t like? I grip the steering wheel hard and take a deep breath.

  No. She’ll come around because in the end, Josie’s the smartest girl I know.

  Dad still talks. “You take your time. Listen…Your mother and I want…”

  “What?”

  “We want you to know we’re here for you both.”

  “I know that. I’ll see you in a little while. Thanks, Dad.”

  I disconnect and drive twenty-five miles to the hospital where Ellen asked me to take her. The facility is a newer one, equipped to handle people with all kinds of mental problems. When Ellen gave me her psychiatrist’s contact info last year, I never thought I’d need it. Now, I’m grateful that she planned ahead.

  The Ellen I saw on Thanksgiving is dangerous to herself and others. And now I see what I can become—more than an odd person. Someone who could hurt the people who care about him.

  My happy little picture of me, Josie and a new baby came crashing in when I played a mental game of what-if.

  I park and walk into Brighton’s Wellness Facility. Unease buzzes along my skin, prickling across the edges of my nerves and making my hands cold. A woman greets me from the front desk. “Good morning. Can I help you?”

  “I’m here to see Ellen Philips. I’m Dane Delacroix.”

  “Let me check,” the woman says and studies her screen. She taps a few keys and looks up. “Can I see some identification? I see you’re listed as an approved visitor.”

  I pull out my wallet and give her my ID.

  She looks at it for an instant and returns it, then nods to the far side of the room. Picking up a laminated square with VISITOR stamped on the front, she hands it to me. “Here’s a badge. You’ll need to stop at the nurse’s station and you’ll be taken to the client day room.”

  The place is quiet and I wonder if many visitors frequent the hallways. I follow the woman’s instructions and a balding older man in blue scrubs, obviously a nurse, takes me to a large room with several tables and chairs. I sit at the nearest one and wait for him to return with Ellen.

  “Morning,” I say the minute she appears in the doorway.

  The nurse studies Ellen for a second and nods. “You have group at nine a.m.” He checks his watch. “I’ll be back to get you in half an hour.”

  I wait for her to come into the room. She shuffles, her feet making a whisking sound against the carpeted floor.

  Leaning in, I study her face for signs of life. Is she sorry? Does she even remember? It’s a poor way to begin a conversation, so I push those thoughts aside. “How are you?”

  She gives a wry smile, so devoid of humor it hurts. “Is your girl okay? And Cece?”

  My chest tightens at her questions. Does she really care? I tamp down the anger that threatens to boil to the surface. “They’re fine. Josie…well, you scared them both.”

  “I bet I did. I wanted to, you know.”

  “I got that impression.”

  The sound of crying from somewhere down the hallway startles me. Then it dies away. “Why did you want to do that?”

  “I thought Josie and that baby would take you away from me and you’re the only person I have. Maybe the devil sent them…”

  I swallow hard. “That’s pretty crazy, don’t you think?”

  She pauses and looks at me, a hard stare. “I’m not crazy. I get confused. It’s different. I…” Her eyes drift away from mine. “I’m surprised you came.”

  “I almost didn’t. But I’m here now.” But that’s not the whole truth. I bob my head slowly as I make up my mind to be totally honest. “You called me and said it was important.”

  “Oh, yeah. I remember now.” She stares at the half-finished puzzle on the next table. “I really didn’t know if you’d come or not. Do you hate me?”

  I rub a hand along the back of my neck. Hate is a strong word. I’m frustrated that she’s the way she is. Terrified of what could’ve happened. But she wasn’t herself. “No.”

  “I messed up.”

  My lungs stop for a second while my head flashes back to the image of her and Josie. I close my eyes and inhale. Then exhale. It’s not going to help for me to get pissed. “Yep. I guess you did.”

  “I haven’t been taking my scripts. I’ve been feeling so good lately. I just knew I could do without them.” Her words drag as if the effort to speak exhausts her. She flutters a nervous hand over the top of her blonde hair, the dark roots an unflattering contrast that speaks of a long overdue dye job.

  “Why did you stop?”

  “Why should I have to take meds? Normal people don’t. I feel sleepy all the time when I take the pills.”

  “You act funny when you don’t.”

  She sighs and studies her hands. “She’s real normal. A good girl. I can tell. She’s going to be a good mother.”

  “The best. Josie’s the most important thing in....” A hard knot forms in my throat and now I stare at the puzzle instead of looking into Ellen’s eyes.

  “You came this morning anyway. Why? Why after what I did?”

  I shrug and rub a hand over my unshaven jaw, making a scratchy sound. When I glance up, she’s frowning at me. “I don’t know,” I say and shift in my seat while she continues to scrutinize me. I’m never quite sure what’s behind her eyes so like mine.

  That answer’s not true. “Ellen…you can’t help the way you are. Maybe somebody will give me a second chance one day.”

  She tears up and lets the fat drops roll down her cheeks. “I’ll try to do better. I’ll take my scripts just so I can be better for you and Josie. You’re my family. Don’t desert me like everyone else.”

  “I’m trying to understand and stick by you. It’s not easy.”

  “You’re here.” Ellen drags her hand across the bottom of her nose. “It’s the best anyone can do. It’s why you’re my good little boy. I knew it every day I dropped you off at school.”

  It crosses my mind to correct her. I’ve lived with Marty and Cece all my life. She’s never taken me to school.

  Just another delusion in Ellen’s mind.

  The nurse appears from a hallway and waits to the side before speaking. “Time’s up, Ellen. Group is in five minutes.”

  “Bye. Tell Josie that I guess I’ll take my scripts because I wanna see that baby.” Ellen wipes her runny nose and holds out her hand to me, as if to shake mine. I take Ellen’s hand, cringing at her unsanitary habits and reminding myself to bring Ellen some pocket tissues next time I visit. What a random thought to have. “Sure thing. Do what they tell you.”

  Ellen leans forward to whisper in my ear. “Tell Josie to take care of you and that I’m sorry. Very sorry. The pawn ticket is in my apartment. Go and get it. Get her rings. Okay?”

  The rings. Josie’s already said she won’t press charges. I know she’s only doing it for me. “Yeah. Okay. Well…” I glance at the nurse who watches us with a bland expression. “I’ll see you in a week. Bye.”

  I think of what I’ve asked Josie to promise—desert me if I ever need medical help. I only want the best for her and the baby. Have I made a mistake? No. Putting Josie first can never be wrong.

  Still, Ellen’s words keep echoing around in my head like someone shouting into a canyon. Tell Josie to take care of you.

  And following Ellen’s words are the ones in my head from Josie—the voice telling me I’m a hypocrite. I want Josie to abandon me and I can’t bring myself to abandon Ellen.

&
nbsp; Chapter Twenty-Four

  Love Texts

  Dane

  Black garbage bags litter Ellen’s apartment. It’s as if she piled everything she owns into bags and left them near the door for a quick escape. I don’t understand it.

  I should’ve asked for the location of the pawn ticket, but it’s too late for that now. One walk-thru in her apartment tells me this won’t be easy. Chillbumps rise on my body when I see the disarray in the other rooms.

  I haven’t been coming by lately. Not nearly enough. If I had, I would know her state of mind.

  Beating myself up with guilt won’t solve the immediate problem of the missing ticket. I can find it. If I can’t, I’ll have to wait another day for visiting hours at the clinic.

  Stopping at the sofa, I sift through a pile of mail. Bills, bills, bills. And one letter I read despite myself. Someone has offered her a million dollars if she only sends in her banking info. I shudder that she kept this one.

  There’s an eviction notice that I pocket. I’ll need to visit her landlord.

  I carry the stack of junk mail to a trashcan. Then I move the trashbags into her bedroom and continue to search while simultaneously cleaning. It’s too much for me to finish today, but I can hire some help for the rest.

  My gaze lands on a photo album on her bedroom dresser. I open it to see scrapbook pages with baby photos. One photo of a baby in a ballcap and baseball shirt catches my eye.

  It has to be me. Man, I was an ugly baby. Maybe my baby will take after Josie.

  A fierce burn sets up in my chest. Josie. I need her so badly and never imagined the ache of her absence.

  I flip through the rest of the scrapbook to find odd things. A yellowed handwritten note.

  Ellen,

  I’ll always love you. I’m sorry it has to end.

  Bill

  No mincing words in this Dear John letter. I mentally file this away as the things I don’t know about Ellen. Turning to the last page, I draw a relieved breath. The pawn ticket sits tucked into the binding—a secret hiding place for something special, I suppose.

  Sometimes, a guy does get lucky.

  It’s early in the day, and I have time to exchange the ticket for the rings before going into work. I call the police station to let them know I’m picking up the stolen merchandise. As I get into my SUV, I glance at Ellen’s apartment one last time. I let her down—the woman who still holds onto baby photos and love notes.

  She’s not the only one I’ve disappointed lately.

  No one calls in sick or late at Dastardly’s, as if the universe understands that my temper might snap at the least provocation. My body is an empty shell, running on caffeine and automation.

  How many days will pass before Josie will give in to my demands?

  Harper steps into my office around noon and closes the door. “How’s it going?”

  “Fine.” I fill in the total line on the supplies order form and keep my head down. “You need something?”

  She sits in the chair across from my desk. “No. Thought we could talk.”

  I lift my gaze to meet hers and fold my arms across my chest. “I’m not into this sharing thing. Harper—”

  “I know what happened. You don’t need to share.”

  “Oh. Good.” Hell. Not good. Is Josie telling people we are over? That’s not what I want. I want her to make a promise.

  “You’re with someone who wants to commit.”

  “It’s not that I don’t want to commit. You have it all wrong.”

  She lowers her eyebrows. “Explain it then. Convince me. No, better yet, convince her.”

  I tap my pen against the desk. “She wants some time to think. I’m giving her space.”

  No matter that it’s torture every minute of the day I’m without her.

  Harper shrugs. “She said you broke it off.”

  The one sentence makes every muscle in my body contract as if hit by a bucket of ice. “Not true.”

  I exhale and toss my pen onto the paperwork. “She needs to give her word on something. Two simple words—I promise. It’s not too much to ask.”

  “Yes. It’s like the opposite of a vow of love…you asking that she’ll leave you at some point. Who can say that? Answer this: do you love her?”

  “I love her.”

  “Then tell her.”

  “You make it sound so easy. If I love her, I’m man enough to look out for her. Think about it. Would you want to be tied for life to somebody who could snap at any time? A person who could be dangerous? There has to be a way for me to know she’ll get the life she deserves. It’s bad enough that I’m willing to gamble for the moment that everything will be okay down the line.”

  “You want her to plan your breakup now.”

  “Harper. You know me better than that. Is that what she said?” I stand, no longer able to stay still.

  “My interpretation. Don’t waste time. I was once married to a man I should’ve left. I lost a baby I never held. Life is short. You never know what’ll happen in the next hour.” She stands, the desk a barrier between us. “So be with the woman you love for this minute, this hour, this day.”

  I stare hard at her. My resolve wavers like the ripples along a pond. Yes. Josie belongs with me. I didn’t know it was possible to feel so lost without someone. I’ve walked around for three days with a love hangover.

  Life is short. Harper’s right. I squeeze the back of my neck with a hand and exhale. I’ve never felt so much like a pussy. All it takes is a short conversation with Harper and I’m ready to throw out my demands.

  No. If I really love Josie, I’ll look out for her and our baby’s future. “It’s my business. You don’t know everything that’s going on.”

  “I don’t have to know the details.” Disgust and sadness lace her words. “There’s no excuse for wasting what you two have,” she says and turns toward the door. Harper takes swift steps to leave my office and slams the door.

  She’s right in one regard. I can’t wait around while Josie thinks I’m trying to end things. I grab my cell phone and tap out a message.

  Me: hi. I want to see you

  It feels like hours before her reply arrives.

  Josie: Good.

  Me: when

  Josie: Tonight. I’m glad you came to your senses.

  I read the line twice. She thinks I’ve changed my mind.

  Me: did you come to your senses?

  …

  …

  Josie: I hope you don’t mean that you think I’m going to promise you.

  Me: you still need to promise me. It’s just stupid that you think you and our baby should be stuck in a bad situation

  I study my screen. Ah, shit. Did I just call her stupid? No. I did not. Did I?

  …

  …

  No response arrives after five minutes. I press the screen, knowing I need to hear her voice. It goes straight to voicemail. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I call the landline for Dog Ears Bookstore. All of the other stores in the city have cut their landlines. I’m thankful that Josie has a nostalgic preference to keep it.

  “Hello, Dog Ears. This is Webb.”

  “Webb. Is Josie there?”

  “Nope. Sorry, man.”

  “Where is she?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  Is the dude lying? I picture Josie shaking her head at him. “It’s important.”

  “Okay. But she’s still not here. Did you try her cell?”

  I grip my phone a little harder and I’m tempted to come back with a smart-ass remark. “Yep. We were just texting. I’m worried now. She won’t answer her phone.”

  Webb heaves a sigh. “Um, I do know where she is. She told me not to tell you.”

  “And…” I rub my eyebrows with my thumb and finger. “Please. I really need to know.”

  “She left town last night with her brother. She and Leo were going out to some cabin.”

  “When will she be back?”

  “Friday,” Webb answers.
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  “Thanks, man. I owe you.”

  I press disconnect and rise from my chair, striding back and forth across my office before stopping in front of my desk. I slam my palms hard against the wood surface and papers fly from the corner to scatter on the floor. I’m going to lose her and it’s my own doing. All because I’m asking her to promise something I’m not strong enough to do with Ellen.

  Perspiration slides down my forehead and I wipe it away.

  For the first time, I question if the promise is more for my happiness than hers. I know the answer.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Impasse

  Josie

  A child lies on the floor of Dog Ears Bookstore throwing a tantrum of epic proportions. I swear. I had no idea that vocal chords could produce a sound similar to howler monkey with a toothache.

  Webb rings up a customer, a pixie-sized girl too young to know that he’s not going to ask her out. She’s cute in her college sweatshirt, looking all doe-eyed at him as he asks for her form of payment.

  He barely gives her a look, yet she’s shown up for the third day in a row to buy a book.

  I decide to save him from her tireless chatter and her from his rejection. “Webb, can you carry some stuff from the back for me?”

  He smiles politely at the girl. “Duty calls. Hope your dad likes that one.”

  Handing her the bag, he tips his chin at me. “Coming.”

  I lead the way toward the back. “Man, that girl can talk. Holy sorority.”

  “She just wants someone to talk to,” he responds with that empathy in his voice that makes me wonder about him. He never mentions having a date. Maybe he wishes he had a steady girl. Or guy. I’m beginning to wonder. “Nashville is full of people, but it can be a lonely place,” he adds.

  Lonely. I know the feeling. Without Dane, the evenings are full of mindless channel surfing. Then I made the mistake of going to the cabin where there’s no TV. No internet. No cell signal. Just the way Leo likes it for days of uninterrupted writing.