And then when she’d asked me tonight if I ever wished things were different for us, I answered honestly before I even had time to consider the consequences of the truth. Instead, I’d given her the invitation, hadn’t I? I’d essentially admitted to feeling something for her, knowing how vulnerable and lonely she was. Knowing how conflicted she’d been feeling earlier today about Drew. Knowing that when she looked at me, she felt something stir inside her—even if it wasn’t for me. I’d taken advantage of that.
This was all my fucking fault.
Sighing, I made sure the back door was locked, turned off the light in the kitchen and made my way through the hall toward the front door. At the landing of the staircase, I paused and listened to the wrenching sound of muffled sobs. My heart couldn’t take it. I had one foot on the bottom step before my head took over and forced me out the front door, pulling it tightly shut behind me and double checking it was locked. It was.
I needed to protect her, even if it was from myself.
Especially if it was from myself.
I’d told Abby I’d see about walking her to school in the morning, but under the circumstances felt that would be a bad idea. Instead, after a sleepless night spend berating myself and worrying about Hannah, I decided I’d leave Abby a note instead. I could drop it off on my morning run.
I dressed quickly and went downstairs to the kitchen. The sun was just rising over the lake, a yellow-orange ball setting fire to the clouds around it and turning the horizon pink. I ripped off a sheet of paper from the notepad my mom used for grocery and to-do lists and snagged a pen from her desk.
Dear Abby,
I’m sorry I can’t be there to walk you to school today, but I wanted to wish you good luck! I know you will have a great first day and I will be excited to hear all about it. Take a picture for me!
Love,
Uncle Wes
P.S. Don’t drink the water from the fountain on the playground. It tastes terrible.
I found an envelope in my mom’s desk drawer too, and was just sliding the note inside it when she appeared in the kitchen in a flowery robe and slippers. She still had her hair pinned and her hairnet on, and I laughed, like Drew and I always had at her morning appearance. She looked like something from a 1950s sitcom. The memory sent an ache of longing for my brother through me.
“Wesley Parks, what are you doing up at this hour? And stop that laughing, I’m your mother.” Mildly miffed, she went to the coffee pot and began filling it with water.
“Sorry, Mom. Good morning.” I went over and kissed the cheek she offered. “I’m going to take a run. What are you doing up this early?”
She clucked her tongue. “I couldn’t sleep. No idea why. Probably the full moon or something.”
It was that kind of night, I thought.
“Want some breakfast? I could make you some eggs.”
“No thanks. I’ll get something when I’m back. I don’t eat before a run.”
“Okay, dear. What’s that?” She gestured to the envelope in my hand.
“Nothing. Just a little note for Abby on her first day of school.”
She beamed. “How sweet. You’ve really taken to her, huh?”
I shrugged. “Who wouldn’t take to her?”
“I think it’s sweet. You’re just so good with kids. Not all men are. You’d be such a great dad.”
I saw where this had the potential to go and cut it off at the pass. “We’ll see. I’m off.” I gave her a wave and slipped out the back door, setting out at a light jog to warm up.
Hannah’s house was probably about three miles from my parents’, and I covered the distance in about twenty-five minutes. Her mailbox was at the foot of the driveway, but I was worried Abby wouldn’t see it before school if I put it in there. Instead, I quietly went up on the porch, opened the screen door, and tucked the envelope into the frame of the wooden door. Once it was secure, I stood there for a moment thinking about Hannah and the night before, feeling guilty and sad. I should have just gone home after reading the story to Abby. Hannah was entitled to feel upset sometimes, and she didn’t need me poking around in her head thinking I could solve her every problem or take away her sadness just because she’d confided in me.
And what a jerk I was, stopping that kiss and then telling her how she felt, like I was some sort of fucking mind-reader superhero, saving us both with my inhuman strength and stalwart moral rectitude. As if I hadn’t been thinking about kissing her all day. As if I hadn’t touched her back that way. As if I hadn’t wanted her even more than she wanted me.
I’m sorry, Hannah.
Suddenly the door opened, and there she was.
“Hey,” she said. “I thought I heard something.”
Her hair was wet but uncombed, like she’d just gotten out of the shower, and she wore a fluffy white bathrobe tied tightly at the waist. I could smell her shampoo, the one that always made me hungry. She looked beautiful, but her eyes were puffy. I felt horrible.
“I brought a letter for Abby.”
“You did?”
I bent down to retrieve the envelope, which had fallen to the porch floor when she opened the door. “Just a little good-luck wish for her first day. She’d asked me if I could walk her, but I wasn’t sure if you…” I stared at her lips and wanted to kiss them so badly I could have punched a hole through the front wall of the house. “Hannah, I’m sorry. About last night.”
“I’m sorry, too.” Her eyes closed. “And also mortified.”
“Don’t be.”
A low, sarcastic laugh escaped her. “Really? After throwing myself at you? Telling you to fuck off? Hitting you?”
“I deserved it.” You have no idea how much I deserved it.
“For what?” Her eyes widened. “Being my friend? Listening to me drone on about my feelings? Tolerating my mood swings and meltdowns and making me feel understood? Being so sweet with Abby?”
No. For wanting you the way I do. The way I always have. But I couldn’t say that, of course. “For being a condescending dickhead. For putting words in your mouth. For assuming I knew how you felt.”
“But you did.” Her eyes filled. “You did, at least partly. I spent the entire night asking myself why I did what I did, and the truth is…” She shrugged. “I am lonely. I do miss Drew. I do feel some unresolved anger at him about the cheating, and it’s entirely possible I went after you to get back at him. Or because you look like him. Or because I haven’t had sex in forever and you’re a safe opportunity. Or because I see the way you make Abby happy, and I want to feel that, too.”
Jesus, why didn’t she just pull out a knife and stab me? “Hannah—”
“It could be all of those things,” she went on, “or none of them. Maybe I just lost my mind. But either way, what I did was wrong and totally unfair to you and way, way out of line. You were right to stop it.”
“You weren’t unfair to me.”
She held up a hand. “Please don’t. I don’t want you to feel like you have to soothe me or heal me or try to fix what’s broken, Wes. I am not your responsibility. I had a bad day, I made a mistake, and you stopped me from taking it too far. I’m grateful.”
I wanted to argue. I wanted to tell her that kiss wasn’t a mistake; it was everything I’d always dreamed about. I wanted to take her in my arms right now and soothe her, heal her, fix what was broken.
But she didn’t want me. She never really had.
After a painful silence, she sighed and looked down at the envelope in her hand. “I’ll give Abby the letter. But Wes, I think maybe you should stay away for a little while. As much as I enjoy being with you, I think all the time we’ve been spending together is confusing me. Making me feel things that aren’t real.”
It is real. I feel it too.
But I nodded. What choice did I have? I had to respect Hannah’s wishes, not to mention general rules of propriety, which dictated that it would not be okay to go after my late brother’s wife.
No matter how m
uch I wanted to.
“Okay. Thanks. Tell her I’m sorry I couldn’t walk with her today.”
“I will.”
I let the screen door close, reluctant to leave but unable to think of a reason to stay. “Well, have a good day. And…call if you need anything.” A lightbulb changed, an ice cream cone, an orgasm…
She nodded. “I will.”
But I knew she wouldn’t.
I ran home, irritated with myself, with Hannah, with the entire situation. I was especially irritated with Drew, for swooping in and stealing Hannah’s heart before I could work up the nerve to ask her out, for cheating on his beautiful, loving wife just because he wasn’t getting enough sleep or attention, and for dying and leaving me to deal with all this shit. Hannah wasn’t the only one with unresolved feelings.
Because I was mad, I pushed my body to the limit, running harder and faster than I was used to. By the time I reached home, my clothes were drenched with sweat and I could hardly breathe. My muscles were screaming, my head hurt, and my heart was pumping way too hard. But I ran all the way down to the beach before slowing down to check my pulse.
Once my feet were on the sand, I paced back and forth along the shore, fingertips on my throat. When I was sure I wasn’t about to die, I allowed myself to mutter a string of curse words that would make a sailor blush. Why was everything so fucked up? Why did I have these feelings for a woman who was so out of reach? What was I supposed to do with them?
And why, why, had I stopped her last night? What if I’d blown the only chance I’d ever have to be with her that way? To feel her body on mine? To give her the kind of pleasure that only a lover could give? What the fuck did I care what her reasons were for doing it? We were two grown adults, weren’t we? It wouldn’t have hurt anyone!
I wanted to go back and do it all over. Everything. From the very beginning.
I wanted to make her mine.
I’d marry her and have children with her and walk them to school on the first day. I’d buy her a house and reach things on the high shelf and let her sleep in on Saturday mornings while I made the coffee and cooked her breakfast.
I could have made her happy, too.
But instead, I’d stepped aside—again.
I thought about her constantly over the next few days. On Tuesday night while I looked at houses for sale. On Wednesday morning as I ran on the beach before work. On Thursday evening as I drove home in my newly purchased SUV. I imagined what it would be like to go pick her and Abby up and take them to dinner or a movie or maybe an apple orchard. We’d pick apples and eat donuts and drink cider, and then we could bring the apples home and Hannah could make applesauce or, better yet, an apple pie.
I had a thousand questions for Abby. How was the first day of kindergarten? Did she like her teacher? Had she made new friends? Did she wonder why I hadn’t come to walk her home yet? Late Tuesday morning I’d gotten a text from Hannah with an adorable photo of a grinning Abby wearing a little blue jumper, her new backpack, and a huge smile. Her hair was caught up in two pigtails, and she held the little elephant I’d given her underneath one arm. The message was sent to me, my mom, my dad, and another number I didn’t recognize, which was probably her mother’s. It said, All set for the first day of school.
But that was it—no other details and no follow up message later in the day letting us know how it had gone, unless she’d messaged someone separately. On Friday morning, I’d said casually to my mother, “Have you heard from Hannah?”
She seemed surprised I’d asked, pausing with her coffee cup halfway to her mouth. “No. Why?”
“Just wondering how the first week of school is going for Abby.”
“Me too, but I don’t like to meddle too much.”
Since when? I thought.
Work was a welcome distraction, and compared to the challenges I’d faced in Africa, my father’s family practice was fairly easy. We saw patients together so he could introduce me, and I saw a few patients on my own. There was a little bit of everything, and all ages, from babies with croup to kids with rashes to seniors with pain in their joints. Nothing serious or severe enough to really take my mind off Hannah, but if I hadn’t had the work, I’d have driven myself crazy.
On Saturday afternoon, I was so restless I drove to the mall, even though I hate the mall, and picked up a few news shirts. While I was shopping, I got a text from Pete asking if I wanted to meet up for a beer around seven, and I answered yes. The last thing I wanted to do was sit around the house with my parents, listening to them bicker while I moped about Hannah.
When I got home, my mother was making dinner and Abby was coloring at the kitchen table. Trying not to be disappointed that Hannah had been here and I’d missed her, I tugged gently on one of Abby’s pigtails before sitting down across from her. “Hey, kiddo. How was school this week?”
“Good,” she said, concentrating hard on staying inside the lines.
“Like your teacher?”
“Yes. She’s really nice.”
“Good. Nice teachers are the best.”
“Hungry, Wes?” My mom asked hopefully.
“Yep.”
“Perfect. Dinner is in ten minutes.”
I ate with Abby and my parents before running upstairs to clean up a little, then dodged my mother’s questions about where I was going and with whom and drove into town.
When I got to the place we’d agreed on, Pete was already seated at the bar with his brother Jack, whom I hadn’t seen since I’d been back. He greeted me with a firm handshake. “How’s it going? Been a while.”
“It has.” I clapped Pete on the shoulder and sat down on the other side of him.
“Margot is home with the baby tonight, so I asked Pete if I could tag along,” Jack said. “Hope it’s okay.”
“He needed to get out of the house,” Pete added. “Even Margot said so.”
“I needed to get out of mine too.” I shook my head. “Living with your parents at this age is not fun.”
“I heard Brad showed you a few houses.” Jack tipped up his beer. “How’d it go?”
“There was one I liked a lot, but they’re asking too much for the work it would need. Brad wants to show me a few others before I make an offer, but I don’t want to wait too long.” I ordered a local craft beer and drank half of it in a few long gulps the moment it was handed to me.
Pete laughed. “Rough week?”
“Sort of.”
“Your mom? Or something else?”
I drank again, hoping a little alcohol would take the edge off my feelings for Hannah. “It’s a little of everything.”
They didn’t push and I didn’t elaborate, and like guys do, we just drank and made bad jokes and shot the shit about sports and old times, and how it sucked to get old and we couldn’t believe we were still here in this town and going on forty.
“At least you guys have it all figured out,” I said, well into my fourth local craft beer and enjoying a nice local craft buzz. “Wives, kids, houses, your own businesses. I feel like a loser in comparison.”
They exchanged an amused glance. “Uh, I’m not sure what the fuck you’re talking about, Doctor Parks.” Pete shook his head. “Nobody’s got it all figured out.”
“Especially not me,” Jack agreed. “I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve fucked up my life. I’m sitting here because of sheer luck. And a woman who wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
That interested me. “What do you mean?”
Pete snorted. “Jack thought he should play hard to get. Margot kicked his ass.”
I laughed. “Really?”
“No.” Jack gave his brother the evil eye. “But I did try to warn her off. I didn’t think there was any way a woman like her—who looked like that and came from old money—would be happy with me. I was a farmer, for fuck’s sake. An Army vet with a shitty emotional history and a bad attitude. I didn’t want anything to do with her.”
“He was a total dick,” Pete confirmed
.
“So what happened?” I asked.
“She refused to give up on me.” Jack shook his head, like he still couldn’t believe it. “She just had it in her head that we were supposed to be together and nothing I did or said would convince her otherwise.”
“But he wanted her, too,” Pete added. “He just wouldn’t admit it.”
“So how did she finally convince you?” I wondered.
“She left. Packed up all her shit and went home. Left me here to brood alone forever, and it didn’t take long for me to realize that was a stupid choice.”
I nodded, imagining the elegant blond Margot throwing old-fashioned suitcases into her car and taking off down the highway, while Jack stood there frowning by the side of the road. It actually seemed kind of comical.
I was probably drunk.
“Fuck, you guys. I need to call it a night. I can’t drink like I used to.” I got off my stool, and the floor didn’t seem as floorish as it should have. It wobbled a little.
They both groaned their agreement, although neither of them had drunk as much as I had.
“Can I hitch a ride home with one of you?” I asked. “I’m sorry, I know it’s out of your way, but I shouldn’t drive.”
“Of course,” Jack said. “We drove together, and it’s no problem. I’d much rather go out of our way than risk it.”
I climbed into the back of Pete’s car, feeling sort of like this was high school again, and we were going out looking for girls, beer, and trouble. All three had been easy to find with Drew around. I glanced at the empty seat next to me, then quickly looked out the window.
At my parents’ house, Pete pulled up to the front door. “Man, I haven’t been here in years. You guys had some pretty cool parties on the beach back in the day.”
“We did.” I nodded. “We should do it again. You can bring your wives and kids.” I’ll invite my sister-in-law, the one I’m secretly in love with, and she can bring her daughter, the one I wish was mine.
“Sounds good.”
I thanked them for the ride and got out, giving them a wave once I’d let myself in the front door.
From This Moment Page 10
