by Devney Perry
The words clogged my throat.
Why was I so scared to confess that I’d been with Karson? I was in love with him. People in love had sex. But I couldn’t get my mouth to form the sentence.
“Um, what?”
“Nothing.” I swallowed hard. “Once Karson is done, I’m going to take a shower too. Then we should talk.”
“I’m just glad I showered before the cops showed up.” She plopped down on her bed. “They totally would have seen me coming out of the shop.”
“Maybe we should start showering at night.”
“Maybe.” Her gaze was focused on the truck wall, her forehead furrowed. She was staring at today’s number.
One.
It wouldn’t matter when we showered because today was our last day.
Tonight was our last night.
The urge to cry came on so strong I almost dropped to my knees.
The shop door slammed again, this time not as loud. I blinked the tears away and collected my soap and towel, then went to the shop, finally breathing when I was under the warm spray.
I hated the idea of washing away Karson’s kisses. His touches. My body was sore in places I’d never been sore before, and the tenderness between my legs was going to make work difficult today. It was my last shift at the diner.
Still, despite the ache, a smile toyed at my lips as I toweled off.
Karson and I had had sex. We’d been as intimate as two people could get.
Would he change his mind about Vegas now? Did he feel the same way about me that I felt about him?
Dressed in fresh clothes and smelling like my soap, I hurried to the truck, finding Karson already there, waiting with Aria.
“Hey.” I gave him a tiny smile.
With his back to Aria, he winked at me. “Hey.”
“So what do we do?” Aria hopped out of the truck to pace beside her buckets of plants.
Karson dropped to the truck’s edge, sitting so his legs could hang over the end.
And I took the space by his side, careful not to get too close. What I wanted to do was pull him aside, to see if we were okay. To let him kiss me again. But not until we talked.
“I don’t understand why she’s doing this,” I said. “Your mom. Why couldn’t she just let you go? You ran away. You’re done with her.”
Karson scoffed. “Like I told you last night. She’s crazy and desperate. Her life’s mission is to make mine hell.”
“I hate her,” I spat, fury racing through my veins.
“Join the club,” he mumbled. “She won’t stop. And I don’t like that look the cops had when they left. I think they knew Lou was lying.”
“If they come here again, they’ll find us.” Aria waved to our home. “Three teenagers are sort of hard to miss.”
Karson nodded and turned to face me. No. The look in his eyes made me want to scream.
I knew before he opened his mouth what he was going to say. “We’re leaving tomorrow anyway.”
“Yeah.” Aria ran her hands over a pink bloom from a bucket. “We’ll be gone first thing in the morning.”
My heart was breaking.
This had always been the plan. Always.
“Come with us.” My plea escaped before I could stop it. “You could come with us.”
The look Karson gave me was so gentle and kind, I wanted to die.
Because in that look was his answer.
No. He wouldn’t come to Vegas with us.
“It’s okay.” I waved it off so he wouldn’t have to come up with an explanation.
“Clara.”
“It was just an idea.” I got to my feet and went into the truck, folding up the clothes I’d worn last night. They were trash. I’d leave them behind. Still, I folded.
“What time are you going to work?” Aria joined me in the truck.
I glanced at my little clock. “I’d better leave soon.”
When I turned to Karson, he was staring at the number on the truck’s wall.
One.
Time was up. We’d just started this. And now it was ending.
Without so much as a glance in my direction, Karson jumped down and vanished.
I wanted to cry. I wanted to yell. I wanted to beg him not to leave us.
Instead, I blinked away the threat of tears.
And went to work.
“Hey.” Karson knocked on the side of the truck.
I tensed as he hopped inside. “Hey.”
“How’s it going? It looks different in here.”
“Yeah.”
After my shift had ended, Aria and I had spent the afternoon and early evening organizing. The items that were coming with us were stowed in our backpacks, ready for tomorrow. Everything else we’d moved to the front of the truck. The bedding. The books. The clothes. The forgotten pieces that would probably remain in this truck until the end of the junkyard’s days.
“Where’s Aria?” he asked.
“Moving her plants. She’s staging them beside Lou’s.”
“Does she need help?”
I shook my head. “I think she wanted to be alone for a while. She was going to write him a note.”
“Clara, about Vegas.”
“You don’t have to explain. I get it. You’ve done your duty and stayed to watch us. You don’t deserve to be chained to us anymore.”
“Is that how you think I feel? Chained?”
I lifted a shoulder. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did.”
“Well, I don’t.”
“Then why?” I asked even though I knew the answer. My voice was too loud and it bounced off the metal walls.
The emotion was bubbling up and I was about to lose it, so I gave him my back, not wanting him to see me cry. I’d had to take three breaks from the dishwasher today to run to the bathroom and cry. When my boss had given me my final pay, I think she’d thought the tears in my eyes had been because I was leaving.
“Because you shouldn’t be chained to me.” His hand came to my shoulder and his thumb circled the bare skin of my neck. “Would you look at me?”
“I can’t.” My voice cracked.
“Clara, you deserve this fresh start. I won’t risk ruining it for you. What if I got caught stealing? What if I got into another fight? What if someone asked when we started having sex and then I got put away for statutory rape?”
My hands fisted at my sides. He could stop stealing. He could stop fighting. “I would never tell.”
“I’m not going to make you lie for me. I won’t ruin you too.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“I might. I don’t want to take that chance.”
My throat burned. “Even for me?”
“Especially for you. We all deserve to be set free.”
Yes, he did. Karson deserved to be set free.
No matter what I said, he truly thought of himself as a toxic person. Maybe if I’d seen it sooner, years ago, I could have convinced him of the truth. But after weeks, I couldn’t even persuade him to go exploring with me in Vegas. How was I supposed to convince him that he was not the person his mother had spent sixteen years telling him he was?
I didn’t have sixteen years to fix this. I only had a day.
It was too late. I was too late.
Tears flooded my eyes as I spun around to face him. I’d worked so hard today to keep them at bay and hide my emotions from my coworkers and Aria. But there was no hiding from Karson, not anymore.
He stepped closer and caught the first tear as it dropped down my cheek. “Don’t cry.”
“I don’t want to say goodbye.”
“Then we won’t.”
A sob escaped right as he pulled me into his arms, holding me close as I cried. More footsteps sounded in the truck and when one of Karson’s arms loosened, it was only to make room for Aria to join our huddle.
The three of us clung to one another, and when Karson finally let us go, my tears had soaked his shirt and Aria was sniffling.
“Where
will you go?” she asked him.
“Exploring,” Karson and I answered in unison, then laughed.
“Out of Temecula, that’s for sure,” he said, then looked to me. “And maybe someday, to visit you two in Vegas. I expect you’ll be running the town by then.”
I forced a smile. “That’s the plan.”
“What time are you leaving?” Aria asked.
“Early. You?”
“We’ll go to the bus station first thing,” I said. “The bus to Vegas leaves at nine. But we’ll be early, just in case.”
“So this is it. The last night. Calls for a celebration.”
“Like what?” I followed him as he walked to the end of the truck to look out at the junkyard.
“Peanut butter and honey sandwiches, of course.”
Hours later, after the sun had set and Aria had fallen asleep, I snuck out of the truck, careful not to wake her, and I made my way to the tent.
Karson’s lantern was on. His bags were packed beside the door and he was sitting on his bed.
Waiting for me.
Neither of us spoke as he took me in his arms and kissed me breathless. Or as he stripped off my clothes and his own. Or as he made love to me, one last time, holding me tight until morning.
I refused to fall asleep when he drifted off. Instead, I clung to him until the first rays of dawn lit the sky, and I snuck to the shop for a shower before he or Aria woke up.
While Aria was in the bathroom, I found the small notebook and pen Aria kept in her pack and tore out a page. Then I wrote Lou a note, leaving it at the base of his front door.
* * *
I love you, Lou. Thank you.
Clara
* * *
“Goodbye, Lou,” I whispered to his shack. “Take care of yourself.”
Aria had done her farewell yesterday. Never before had her plants looked so green and her flowers so bold as they did around his shack. She’d staged them so artfully, I doubted even a professional gardener would have done such a nice job.
While she collected her things, I set out a bowl of cat food for Katherine’s cat. Then I took the half-empty bag of food to the shop, leaving it beside the door where Lou would find it.
“I didn’t think I’d be sad,” Aria said as we both stood outside the truck.
I had. I’d known this would hurt.
We each wore a backpack on our shoulders and held another in our hands. On the wall, I’d erased yesterday’s number, but I hadn’t written anything in its place.
“Thank you,” I said to the truck, my chin quivering. Thank you for being our home. Thank you for being our refuge. Thank you for keeping us safe.
With tears in my eyes, I took Aria’s hand. Then, like the day we’d come here, we walked, together, toward the gate.
I didn’t look at the Cadillac. I didn’t look at the tent.
I knew it would be empty.
I kept my face forward and my feet moving until we journeyed down our road one last time. Until we were at the station with bus tickets in our pockets. And as I settled into my seat on the bus that would take us to Vegas, I replayed the last words we’d said to each other before he’d fallen asleep.
“Happy Birthday, Clara.”
“Will I ever see you again?”
“I hope so. I really hope so.”
Chapter Nine
Karson
Twelve years later . . .
“It’s really you.”
Clara Saint-James.
There she was, standing in my driveway, and all I could do was grin at her like a fool. She looked beautiful. More beautiful than I’d ever imagined.
“It’s really me.” She smiled and my heart fluttered. Her smile had always hit me dead center.
The boy at her side stared up at me. Other than a quick glance, I hadn’t paid him much attention, because it was impossible to tear my eyes away from Clara for long.
God, I’d imagined this. I’d hoped for this. Just to see her again, in the flesh, and know that she was safe. Know that she’d found a new life. Know that she was happy.
“What are you doing here?”
“It’s a long story.” She waved a hand toward her car.
I followed the movement, taking in the classic Cadillac. It was a stunner, but nothing like Clara. The hood ornament, a V embossed with red and gold and silver, glinted under the sun. It looked familiar. Too familiar.
I knew that ornament.
I knew that car.
“Wait. Is this . . .”
Clara nodded. “Looks a little different than it did back in the day, huh?”
“What? How?” My jaw dropped as I rushed to the car, splaying my hands on the cherry-red hood, the metal still warm. I walked along the Cadillac’s side, inspecting and savoring every inch. “I can’t believe it. I can’t believe this is the same car. It’s incredible.”
The Cadillac was a dream. It looked nothing like the rusted heap it had been so many years ago. The interior was refinished in a white, soft leather. The dash, which had been cracked and busted, was new. The polished chrome accents sparkled.
I had no idea what had brought this car and Clara to California, but what a Sunday surprise.
Skimming my fingers over a rear fin that bordered the broad trunk, I touched the car again just to prove it was real. “I bet I won’t find peanut butter and honey stashed in here like we used to.”
She scoffed. “Most definitely not.”
“How?” Clara was the best of this surprise visit, but the car was the literal red cherry on top.
“Londyn,” she said.
“Londyn.” I nodded, rounding the trunk. “Before Lou died, he told me that she’d called and bought the car. But I didn’t expect to see it again. How do you have it?”
“Kind of a long story.” She looked down at the boy and smiled. “We surprised you today. Want to meet for dinner or something? If you’re free?”
“I’m free now.” There was no way I was letting her out of my sight. Not yet. I glanced down at the boy who watched my every step as I approached. I crouched down in front of him and held out a hand for a shake. “But how about some introductions first? I’m Karson. What’s your name?”
“August.” He looked at my hand, then slapped his to mine, grabbing it tighter than I would have expected for a young kid. One hard shake and he looked up at Clara and smiled.
She winked down at him.
“Quite a grip.” I shook out my hand, pretending it hurt. “You’re pretty strong for a—what, four-year-old?”
“I’m five. Almost six.”
“Ah. Still, you’re pretty strong.” I grinned at him as he puffed up his chest, then stood and motioned toward my home. “Did you ever learn to like coffee?”
“I can’t believe you remember that.” Clara’s pretty brown eyes softened, and I was whisked away to the past. To a junkyard where I’d once fallen for a girl with pretty brown eyes. This girl.
“Coffee became a necessity because of this guy.” Clara ruffled August’s hair. “He loves to torment his mother in the middle of the night.”
“Nu-uh,” he argued.
“Yes-huh.”
His mother. Clara was a mother. I’d already known. One look at them and it was no secret. The resemblance, along with the onslaught of surprises in the past five minutes, was enough to keep my head spinning.
The boy looked just like her. They had the same mouth and nose. They had the same sparkling eyes with flecks of gold. His hair was the color of honey, like hers was in my memory.
A twist pinched in my gut. Clara was a mother. Where was the father? Why hadn’t he come along? I had no right to be jealous, but as sure as a Cadillac from over a decade ago was parked in my driveway, envy took up the free space in my chest.
My eyes flew to her left hand. Other than the stack of bracelets on her wrist, there was no other jewelry. Was she divorced then?
Maybe if I stopped gawking at her and invited her inside, she’d answer those questions.
“Coffee.” I cleared my throat and extended a hand toward the house.
“Want to grab your Nintendo?” Clara asked August.
He answered by sprinting to the car and vaulting over the side wall for the seat in the back, rifling through a bag. He emerged with a handheld game and a smile.
They had the same smile too. Bright. Cheerful. Honest.
“God, it’s good to see you.” The words spilled out.
A flush crept into her cheeks. “I wasn’t sure you’d remember me.”
“What?”
“It was a long time ago.”
“It could have been fifty years. A hundred. I will always know you.”
Clara swallowed hard and pressed a hand to her heart. “It’s good to see you too.”
Bubbly music chimed between us. August was already playing his game, concentration scrunching his face.
“Come on in.” I jerked my chin for the house.
“Hit pause, bud,” Clara said, then gripped August’s hand as they followed me to the door. “This is a beautiful home.”
“Thanks. I got it for a steal.” A three-million-dollar steal. Homes in this neighborhood of Elyria didn’t come cheap. I walked to the living room, gesturing to the caramel leather couches. “Make yourself at home. I’ll get coffee. And for August?”
“Water’s fine,” Clara said, taking a seat on the love seat.
August plopped down beside her, his thumbs on the Nintendo’s controllers and his eyes glued to the game as the music started up again.
“Ever wish we’d had those things?”
Clara laughed. “Then I would have had another game to beat you at.”
“Please.” I scoffed. “I let you win, remember?”
“I remember too.” Her smile turned bittersweet.
“Be back.” I disappeared into the kitchen and took a moment to collect myself.
Holy fuck. That was not who I’d expected to see in the driveway today. And with that car. And alone with her son.
Clara Saint-James.
My Clara.
She hadn’t been mine for a long time. My mind acknowledged that truth. But in my heart . . . she’d always felt like mine.
