Where the Heart Lies

by Michelle Garren Flye

  Me? Alicia shook her head and sipped her tea, restraining herself from peering out the front window again. She’d left the front door open, but closed and locked the storm door to keep the air-conditioning in. The North Carolina Piedmont in late summer was very hot and muggy and she couldn’t seem to acclimate herself to it.

  She took another sip and jumped as Gemma’s cry cut across her consciousness. She muttered an almost inaudible curse at the sound of footsteps in the hall. “Honey, what’s wrong?” Her daughter flung her arms around her neck with another cry.

  “I’m scared, Mommy.”

  So am I. She fought her own instinctive reply. How could her daughter’s emotions so closely echo her own? She bit her lip and summoned her strength. “It’s okay, baby. It was just a dream.” She pulled away and looked into her daughter’s eyes. “Would I ever let anything hurt you?”

  Gemma looked back and shook her head, her eyes solemn. Alicia nodded agreement and, moving more by ritual than actual wisdom, stood. “Okay, then. Let’s get you back to bed.” Just as her fingers closed on Gemma’s a light tap on the storm door made her look up sharply.

  “Mr. Liam!” Gemma released her mother’s hand and raced to the front door, unlocking it before Alicia could stop her.

  Alicia hesitated, caught off guard. A small portion of her soul wanted very much to run to Liam and bury herself in his embrace. It seemed like nearly a month and not just a little over a week since she’d seen him. Instead she stood dumbly in the hall, watching as her daughter flung herself into Liam’s arms.

  Liam bent to receive Gemma’s enthusiastic hug, looking over her shoulder at Alicia. “Hey. Sorry I’m late. I’d hoped to get here in time to take you all out for ice cream.”

  “Ice cream! Yay!” Bad dreams forgotten, Gemma began a little dance that brought amusement to Alicia’s face before she could stop herself.

  “Gemma,” she said, “you know it’s past bedtime. We can’t have ice cream now. And Jason’s in bed.”

  “No ice cream?” Liam reached outside and produced a grocery bag. “Well, I guess I’d better take this back to the store, then.” He glanced again at Alicia. “Sorry, I guess I just wanted to bring a peace offering.”

  Alicia shrugged. “Fine, you two have ice cream. I need to check on Jason.”

  “I’ll do better than that.” He rose with a challenging grin. “I’ll get her in bed by the time you’re done with Jason.”

  She shook her head, summoning a doubtful look. “If you can do that after ice cream, you’re better than me.”

  “Watch me.” He set the bag on the counter, turning back to her and holding out his arms. She let herself lean against him for a moment. When she backed away, he made a shooing motion. “Go on. And meet us in Gemma’s room, right, princess?”

  “Right!” Gemma bobbed her curly head enthusiastically. “After ice cream!”

  “Good luck with that.” She kissed Gemma’s forehead. “I’ll be in to say good-night in a minute. Don’t give Mr. Liam a hard time.”

  “I won’t!” Gemma took Liam’s hand and danced into the kitchen with him while Alicia shook her head as Jason began to wail down the hall, as if on cue.

  She sighed. “If only I could whip up something like ice cream for his sore gums.”

  * * *

  What am I doing here? Liam found the ice cream scoop with Gemma’s willing help and soon had her seated at the table chatting in between large bites of ice cream. He managed to interject appropriate comments, concentrating as hard as he could on what she was saying, but a dreadful certainty continued to haunt him. I should have stayed in Chapel Hill. I can’t be here. This will never work out.

  Knowing she felt the same way about him just made him guiltier. He’d obviously confused her, but even as he thought this, he knew what she’d say. I’m a big girl, Liam.

  And I’m a big boy. Supposed to be a man. But when I look at her…

  “And then yesterday Amy took me to the park and we had a tea party.”

  A stab of pain at the mention of the other little girl he’d let into his heart made Liam wince. Gemma gave him a look of very grown-up concern. “Are you okay, Mr. Liam?”

  “Sure.” Liam smiled. “Just the ice cream is a little cold.”

  “But you aren’t eating any.” Gemma pointed at his bowl. “See? It’s all melty.”

  Liam looked at his bowl. She was right. His ice cream had begun to form a puddle at the bottom of the dish. Looking for a way to distract her, he said, “Do you know why ice cream does that?”

  Gemma shook her head, her eyes wide.

  Liam took his bowl and her empty one to the sink. “Well, ice cream is made up of something called particles, and when the particles are frozen, they all stick together, like when you and your mom go out in the cold and she holds you close to keep you warm. But then when it gets warm, the particles all stretch out like this.” He stood with his legs apart and his arms held wide over his head.

  Gemma giggled and hopped up to mimic him. “Like a starfish.”

  “Exactly.” He picked her up and gave her a hug. “Like a starfish. Come on, my little starfish. Let’s get you to bed and I’ll read you a story.”

  After brushing her teeth and handing him a book, Gemma jumped into bed and pulled the covers up. Liam opened the book and read the age-old story of Cinderella and her prince without paying much attention. Gemma kept her eyes wide open through the whole story, but as he reached the “happily ever after” ending, she yawned. “Night, Mr. Liam.”

  “Good night, sweetheart.” He kissed her forehead and turned as Alicia entered. He went just outside the door and leaned against the wall, considering the possibility of leaving even though he wanted to stay.

  “Mommy.” Gemma sounded suspiciously not sleepy.

  “Yes, baby?”

  “Do princesses ever get two princes?”

  Liam froze, listening for Alicia’s reply. After a moment’s silence, she said in a steady voice, “I’m not really sure, baby. Why?”

  “Maybe Mr. Liam could be your prince. Like Daddy was.”

  He wished he could see Alicia’s face, but her tone revealed nothing but love for her daughter. “Go to sleep, sweetie.”

  He collapsed against the wall just outside the door, tired of fighting his heart. As she came out, he turned his head and met her gaze, wanting her to know he’d heard what Gemma said. “She’s cute.”

  Alicia’s smile looked pained. “Yeah, she’s got some pretty romantic notions.”

  “Most princesses do.” He pushed away from the wall and took her hand. “Come outside with me. I want to show you something.”

  Darkness had fallen, and he flipped on the porch lights. “I wish it was still light. You really need daylight for something like this. Come on.” He tugged at her hand and Alicia followed.

  He had parked near the end of the driveway, behind her van. As they approached, she paused, eyes examining the lines of his car. “Is that what I think it is?”

  “It is.” He couldn’t keep the delight out of his voice as she quickened her step, releasing his hand to get there faster. “Dad took really good care of it, so there wasn’t as much to do as I thought there would be to get it running again. I’ve been working on it for a few weeks and there’s a guy in Chapel Hill who paints and details cars, so when I got it started, I decided to drive it up there. I left it with him and walked all week.”

  Alicia stopped next to the classic old Camaro. “Red.” Her voice held satisfaction.

  “Bolero red with ivory racing stripes. I went for the classic look.”

  “My cousin used to call them Le Mans stripes.”

  He chuckled. “No other woman I’ve ever known had any idea what Le Mans stripes are.”

  She ran her fingertips along the doorframe, and he knew she admi
red it as much as he did. “Also known as Cunningham stripes, named for the race car driver who painted them on several high performance cars he raced at Le Mans.” She touched one of the stripes as she spoke, the tips of her fingers tracing it with reverence.

  “You’re full of information like that, aren’t you?” He watched her, arms folded over his chest. “That’s one of the things I love about you.”

  For just a moment she hesitated, and he knew it was his use of the word “love” that had caught her attention. Hoping she didn’t feel threatened by it, he searched for a way out, but she stopped him by turning to face him, leaning against the car. “Just one of the things you love?” She lingered on the last word, caressing it, then added in a brisk tone, “Not all of my information is useless, you know. For instance, I know that the backseat of a 1967 Camaro is approximately five feet wide.”

  He couldn’t keep up with her. The seductive way she’d emphasized “love” had left him breathless, ready to forget everything and find all the ways he could love her, but now she sounded normal again. “How is that not useless?”

  She raised her eyebrows. “You mean to say you never made out in the backseat of a car that was too small?”

  He snorted, looking past her to the back window of the Camaro. An image of what it would be like to hold her in that backseat left him breathless. Damn it to hell. It can’t really be wrong, can it? He took her hand, his fingers lightly twining with hers. He reached up with his free hand and touched her face. “I missed you. I never thought I could miss a woman after just over a week, but I missed you.”

  “I missed you too.” She said it as if it didn’t matter, but she reached for his other hand. She looked up at him, lacing her fingers through his. Waiting for him to make the next move.

  And he couldn’t do it.

  After several moments, she released his hands and started to turn away, but he stopped her, one hand on her shoulder, the other on the side of her face. He bent his head and kissed her, tasting her lips with little repeated nips. He drew away and looked at her, still hesitating, and she put both arms around his neck and pulled him to her. This time he turned his head to the side and slid into the kiss, the hand on her shoulder shifting to her hip while the other hand moved behind her neck, tangling in her hair and pulling her closer. He never wanted to let her go.

  God help me. I’m so sorry, Ty.

  After several seconds—or minutes, he’d lost track of all sense of time—he broke off the kiss, but didn’t move away. He bent his head, leaning his forehead against hers, his hands on the hood of the Camaro on either side of her, his eyes closed. At last he spoke the words he knew had to. “This can’t work.”

  She pulled away abruptly, ducking under his arm and turning back to the house. Startled, he watched as she stalked back to the house, anger obvious in the lines of her body. And she had every reason to be angry. He knew it. If he’d stayed in Chapel Hill, she could have gotten over him, moved on, finished mourning her husband and continued to be a good mother. She had the bookstore and Millie to take care of as well as her kids. Life was full for his friend’s wife. She wouldn’t miss him.

  So this is about me. I’m the one being selfish. Because I want what I can’t have.

  He could drive away now, go back to Chapel Hill. Maybe he could stop at a bar on the way. For the first time in years the desire for alcohol almost overwhelmed him. Yes, he’d do that. He’d trade one addiction for another, stop for a few drinks, find another willing woman, maybe. Or call someone like Sandra once he was drunk enough. He reached for his keys.

  She stopped on the porch, turning to look at him. Her eyes looked very dark, her lips still red from his kiss. And he knew no matter how much he drank, he’d never be able to erase the desire to kiss her again. He followed her into the ring of yellow cast by the porch light without stopping to think about what he was doing. When he reached for her, she let him pull her back into his arms. Still holding her against him, he tilted his head up as if looking for guidance. She lay her cheek against his shoulder, breathed his scent and waited.

  He kissed her forehead. “I’ve stood on this porch so many times.”

  That was when it was Ty’s house. Remember, your friend? The one you betrayed and swore you’d make it up to by taking care of his widow?

  One of his hands rested at the nape of her neck. He moved it slightly, drawing his fingers through her hair. Her hips and breasts pressed against him and he couldn’t find it in him to move away. “God.” His voice was a hoarse whisper. “I want you so much.”

  His restrained caresses seemed to be having an affect on her. She slid her arms around his neck, moving even closer to him, her neck exposed in just the right way. He nuzzled the soft skin and played with a curl of her hair. “I love your hair.” He kissed her neck, his lips against her ear. “It’s so soft.” He moved both hands to her hips, molding her closer to him and finally admitting in a whisper why he couldn’t walk away from her. “I love you.”

  * * *

  This time she understood when he drew away. No man but Ty had ever spoken those words to her, and she’d never felt that way about anybody else. Until now. Oh God, how did this happen? How could I love somebody else?

  He released her as slowly as he’d held her. When she finally stood alone again, it was as if she’d crossed an ocean or climbed a mountain. Her life had changed in some way she couldn’t name, the same kind of change one might face at the end of a long journey.

  “I can’t begin to count the ways this won’t work.” His gaze met hers and his voice sounded so directly honest, she could find no reply.

  After several moments of silence, she opened the door and went inside, hearing him follow her. The screen door swung shut slowly, stopped from slamming by his hand. She turned to face him, waiting for him to speak. When he did, he said exactly what she’d imagined he would.

  “There are some things you don’t know about me and Ty.”

  “I figured.”

  The silence stretched between them and Alicia waited for it to rebound like a rubber band, bringing with it his confession. He cleared his throat. “It’s kind of hard to talk about. Doesn’t really put me in the best light.”

  “I don’t care.” Alicia looked at him levelly. “I know who you are, Liam. Who you were in high school, back when you and Ty knew each other, doesn’t matter to me.”

  He nodded, taking a deep breath. “Okay. Fine. I know Penny’s told you the story about how we got drunk and had that accident. But you can’t know the whole story because I know Ty never told anyone.”

  Alicia nodded, not wanting to interrupt. Whatever it was, this secret haunted him. If he truly was willing to share it with her, maybe what they might have mattered to him as much as it had come to matter to her.

  “It was so stupid.” Liam frowned with remembered anger. “I told you how we used to fight over girls.” He gave her a humorless smile. “Guess we’ve always had the same taste. Anyway, when Ty took Penny out a few times, it sort of threw me for a loop. We’d all been friends and hung out so much. One night I knew he was over at her house and I got drunk and went over there. I guess I said something sort of insulting to her and Ty lost his temper and punched me.”

  Liam looked at the ceiling. “I think back about it sometimes and it’s so clear where we went wrong. I wish I’d never gone to her house. I wish Ty had woken me up and sent me home. And mostly I wish I hadn’t had those two drinks before driving myself over there.” He swung back around to face Alicia. “He didn’t take me straight home like he should’ve. Hell, I’d just insulted his girlfriend and he should’ve hated my guts. Instead, we went up to the lake and got stinking drunk together. Long story short, we headed back home and rolled Ty’s truck and the rest is history.”

  She shook her head, puzzled. “I know all that. Well, most of it, anyway. I don’t understand why you feel
so guilty. Ty made his own choices. He got drunk on his own, right? I mean, sure, you provided the alcohol, but so what? He made the choice to drink and drive.”

  For a moment he hesitated, but then he shook his head. “No, Ty never would have driven drunk. He didn’t make that decision at all.”

  “I don’t understand.” Alicia looked at him, waiting.

  “Everybody assumed Ty was driving. It was his truck. Truth was, Ty was unconscious. He passed out at the lake. I put him in the truck. I got into the driver’s seat.” He paused. “I drove. I’ve regretted that ever since. When I rolled the truck—going around a curve too fast, I guess—I got knocked in the head. Ty must’ve regained consciousness first and pulled me out. By the time the cops got there, he’d sobered up enough to know if I got arrested for drinking and driving—again—no judge would go easy on me. I was eighteen. I’d go to jail.”

  He sighed. “You know the rest. He lost his scholarship and signed with the Marines. And that’s why your husband is dead.”

  Alicia sat silently looking at her hands for several moments, not sure how to feel. She imagined the teenage Liam waking in the hospital to be told about the accident. At first, maybe he had been too groggy from drinking and getting hit on the head to argue. Then he’d probably been scared. Had he even remembered what happened? She looked up. “Did Ty tell you? How did you find out?”

  Liam shook his head. “Ty just told me to keep my mouth shut. It wasn’t hard to figure it out, once I could think at all, that is. I was only too happy to let him take the rap for it.”

  “I don’t believe that.” She took his hands. “You were a kid, a scared kid. We’re all idiots at eighteen. Hell, it’s only recently that I’ve started having any real sense.” She looked up at him, experiencing a sudden rush of admiration for this man who had figured out at eighteen what it took some people a lifetime. “You told me the accident was what convinced you to get sober. Is that true?”