“Apparently neither of you can stand on your own.” I pulled Claudia back and lowered her to the ground. “You wait here. I’ll be right back,” I said and hooked April’s arm around my waist to steer her back inside.
April had her sea legs, though, and didn’t require too much assistance. I escorted her to her bedroom, but before I let her go, she caught my arm, her fingers pinching the thin skin on my wrist, twisting it enough to be uncomfortable.
“Asshole martyr doesn’t look well on you. It’s so yesterday.” Her speech was taut with sobering clarity. “It’d do you good to remember the kind of upbringing Claudia had, and that the stuff you’ve seen is not exactly mainstream for a girl like her. That girl loves you. Don’t box her out. Do right by her.”
I huffed. “Yeah, fine. Whatever.”
April yanked me down, smacked a kiss on my cheek, and released me. “Okay, then. Goodnight!”
Outside, Claudia was exactly where I left her on the ground. Her face was wet with tears. I hooked my arms under her shoulders, and I boosted her onto her feet.
“You okay?” I asked.
“I love April,” she said, her feet a coordination disaster.
“I know, and I suspect the whole neighborhood knows, too.” I mostly carried her towards my truck at the curb.
“This is not your Jeep.” She halted as I tried to help her into the passenger side.
“No, it’s my truck, and this is the seat inside my truck. For you to sit on.” I patted the tan bucket seat. “Hop on in. It’s time to go home.”
“I don’t want to go home.” She protested, shaking her head and almost tittering over.
“Claudia, I think you overdid it tonight.” I chuckled in spite of myself and helped her climb into the seat. When I got behind the wheel, her head lulled sideways to look at me.
“Well, now that you put me in your truck, you’re stuck with me. I’m not getting out until you take me down to the water to see the storm waves roll in,” she said thickly, pointing up to the black velvet sky.
“Sure. One quick trip to the beach and then home.” I leaned over and buckled her seatbelt, put the car in gear, and headed south towards her house and the water.
At two in the morning, my truck was the only vehicle in the small parking lot overlooking the short, narrow town beach. I turned off the engine and leaned against the steering wheel.
She was staring out the front window wearing a sad little smile. “Do you remember our first date? You took me down to Land’s End.”
I ran a hand through my hair and laughed. “Yeah, we parked. A very classy move on my part.”
“I loved everything about that date—dinner, the concert, how you danced with me in the park. It was the first time I had a true crush on someone. I finally understood the sweaty palms and the weak-in-the knees stuff everyone always talks about.”
That night had been perfect. Everything was so new to her. It was easy to be her champion, but the emotions I felt and my nervousness had been new to me, too. My pulse raced with the unexpected recollection of that night. “I wanted you so bad, but you were such a prude. I think it made me want you more.”
“Do you still want me?” she whispered.
Christ, the conversation was dangerous. Still, I let my eyes caress her face, down over her body, and nodded.
She put a hand on my thigh, and my blood surged in anticipation.
Without warning, she dropped her head onto my lap. “I think I might be very drunk.”
“I think you are, too.” I rested my hand her shoulder, automatically moving downwards to caress her bare arm. I loved the way her skin felt under my fingers. After a tequila binge, she was more collected than I’d expected, but still, I wondered if she would remember any of this.
As if something just occurred to her, she rolled onto her back to look up at me, her smile skittering away. “Do I intiminate you?”
“You mean intimidate?” I chuckled and glanced down at her. “Why are you asking me that?”
“April said it’s why you didn’t tell me about Lacie … and Jackie.”
In the darkened interior of the truck, my insides tensed. I slipped a hand under her head and lifted her until she was sitting upright on the seat. “It’s late. I should get you home.” I twisted the keys in the ignition, starting the engine.
She blew out, ruffling a strand of hair that had come loose, leaned back heavily in the seat, and closed her eyes. Thankful for that small mercy, I drove up the block and turned onto her street. After pulling into the driveway, I went around to her side and opened her door.
She watched me, her eyes pinning me from under heavy lids. “You know, I have secrets, too.”
“Do you now?” I reached forward to unsnap her seatbelt, half listening.
“I almost slept with Andrew.”
I halted and looked away, hating how much it hurt to hear that.
“I would’ve regretted it, and I would certainly never openly admit to it," she said. "But it wouldn’t make me a bad person had it happened.”
I knew she was trying to make me feel better, implying that nearly fucking Berger was in some way comparable to what I'd done.
It wasn’t even close.
“No, almost sleeping with someone doesn’t make you a bad person.” In one quick motion, I had the seatbelt off and my hands on her waist.
She caught my right arm with both her hands and hugged it to her chest.
“But refusing to understand you does,” she choked out. “I need you. You make me cry.” She leaned forward, nearly falling out of the truck. I stepped forward, just in time, and she collided with my chest.
“I’m sorry I make you cry,” I said, cradling her head.
“No, eesh good.” She shook her head sluggishly, but she said no more. Her body went limp like a rag doll in my arms, her soft, even breaths warmed my neck. She’d fallen asleep.
I blew out. Her epiphany plunked like serrated knives in my stomach.
I held her for a long moment, but the wind whipped up the road, reminding me I had to get a move on. I lifted her from the truck and carried her sleeping body to the house. The front porch light was on, and the door unlocked. I pushed into the house, and Pops jumped up
His eyes narrowed. “What the hell?”
“She had a little too much to drink. I’m putting her to bed,” I told him and went directly up the stairs to her bedroom.
I kicked open the bedroom door and laid her on the bed. She sighed and tossed about as I removed her shoes and unwound the clunky jewelry from around her neck.
There were so many things to do, things dependent solely on me. I felt the anxiousness growing, but it was hard to leave. Against my better judgment, I crawled into bed next to her. For a minute or two, those impending needs could wait. I had another, more desperate one to deal with. I put my arms around her and burrowed my face into her hair. Her body fused to mine, generating the exquisite comfort I anticipated like rejoining with a missing piece of my soul. I didn’t know where I ended and she began, but as I lay there holding her, there was no relaxing. My heart was pounding, and I was ready to bolt like a thief stealing from her. It was so damn hard to let her go.
“I’m sorry, Claude.” My voice clogged in my throat. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you everything.”
Holding her and confessing was purely selfish because this memory would be mine, and mine alone. The alcohol temporarily protected her from the truth, but I needed to do this.
“April doesn’t have to remind me how different our lives have been. I have never, not for one moment, forgotten that.”
I rose up on my elbow, admiring her profile as she slept. Her long neck and graceful build had always made me think of a fragile bird, easily crushed. But it wasn’t so. Claudia was strong. I’d plucked a few feathers, twisted her wings, and temporarily suspended her flight, but she would regain her strength.
She would fly again. And be free of me.
I leaned down and whispered, “I’m
not the guy for you, but I am, and probably will always, always be so in love with you.”
I kissed her one last time. Then I let her go.
When my foot hit the bottom step, El Capitán called out, “Is she all right?”
“Yeah, but she’ll probably be hurting tomorrow.” I needed to leave, but I took the seat closest to him, adjacent to the couch. He seemed nervous as if he knew I was going to say something he didn’t want to hear.
Because I was.
After Claudia’s and my conversation on the way home from visiting Al, I’d thought about her father’s drinking. The truth was alcoholics didn’t all look alike. They didn’t all possess the obvious telltale signs my father had—the temper and down-on-you-luck façade. Alcoholics came in an array of shapes and sizes outside the most obvious of situations and across education, income levels, and career choices—and sometimes even in the outwardly stout, too.
“I hated what my father’s drinking did to my family, but mostly, I hated what it did to him.” I wasn’t sure where I was going with the declaration, but I trusted my familiarity with the situation would guide me through.
He arched his brows but listened without commenting. Maybe he thought I was confessing. In a way, I suppose I was.
“It’s taken me a long time to understand how much his drinking affected me, how it made me feel insignificant at best and like a failure at worst. Even though counseling helped me come to terms with it, every morning I wake up to a mountain of negative thoughts. Some days it takes all I have push through them, and there’s little energy for anything else.” I looked up at him. “You may think this is only about you—what you drink, how much you drink—but it’s not. You’ll hurt the ones you love the most.”
He bowed his head. “You can’t understand what it’s like for me. I was good at my job and damn proud of it. What am I if I can’t work?”
I wiped my damp palms on my jeans.
“I wasn’t real close with my dad. I envy what you have with Claudia. This past year, it was nice feeling like I was part of your family.” I kept my eyes trained on the carpet beneath my feet. “You’re not a weak man, Don. Don’t let this injury define who you are.” I aimed a pointed look at him. “Don’t make Claudia pay for what you can’t do.”
He crossed his arms, refusing to meet my gaze and acknowledged me with a sparing nod.
“You need to get back on your feet and take back your life,” I continued. “You’ve made Claudia your nursemaid. She’s loyal to you. She won’t run, but you’re holding her so tight she can’t leave. Eventually you’ll break her spirit. I know that isn’t your intention.”
Without anything else to say, I stood.
“This storm is supposed to cause some heavy flooding. Don’t be a hero. Go inland until it blows over,” I said. “You and Claudia are welcome to stay at my house if you want. I won’t be home.”
“My sister already offered to let us stay with her.” He finally looked up. “Where are you going to be?”
“Babysitting an investment house in the Pines.”
“Maybe you should heed your own advice about being a hero. Sitting out a bad storm on Fire Island isn’t sound thinking.”
“It’s not beachfront, but I need to secure it.” I moved towards the door. “I gotta get over there before they close beach access. G’night.”
“Toby, wait.” He met me at the door, moving faster than I’d expected. “I don’t take what you said lightly. It takes balls to tell someone they’re screwing up without making them feel worse.”
I scratched the back of my neck.
“I haven’t felt like myself since the shooting, but I guess it’s time I stop sitting around and feeling sorry for myself.” He rested heavily on his cane and shook his head. “I’m damn awful at apologies, but I owe you one for how I treated you the last few months. It’s not an excuse, but I was worried about Claudia. Unfortunately, I took it out on you. Can you forgive an overzealous father for giving you a hard time?”
He held out his hand to me. I didn’t move to take it.
“Not too long ago, you said I’d never be good enough for your daughter. If I told you right now I still wanted to marry her, what would you say?” I asked, putting him on the spot.
The unexpected question caught him off guard, and a protective grimace surfaced.
“Love is all about compromising,” he said, the same line he’d once said before.
Irritation riled inside me. “No, it isn’t. Compromise is about giving and getting in equal portions. Love is being fearless enough to sacrifice your needs for someone else’s even if you might not get anything in return.”
It was a lesson Julia had tried to teach me. It was how my mother lived her life. It took Claudia to make me understand it.
“You love her,” he said, an acknowledgment, not a question.
Enough to let her go.
The hard edge of his scowl softened, and in his eyes I saw the months of struggle tick by, unfolding like a story. “All I ever wanted for her is to be happy, to have someone to love her and take care of her. You did that. Even now, you still do that.” He set his jaw. “If the two of you wanted my blessing, you’d have it.”
It was a cruel and pointless approval, but I was gratified to get it anyway.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and took his hand. “Thank you for that.”
Chapter 39 • Claudia
Tequila hangover.
I’d never known such an exquisitely dull pain quite like it. Not that I was all that familiar with hangovers to begin with, but this one made me want to swear off alcohol forever. It even hurt to think.
I remembered only bits and pieces of the night’s ending—doing shots of that vile, evil liquor with April, falling down in front of her house, and Toby helping us up—and saying upsy-daisy. But I couldn’t remember how I’d made it to bed.
As he hadn’t called or texted this morning, I suspected the time spent with Toby hadn’t bridged the divide. I remembered wanting to tell him I was sorry for judging him. The combination of tequila and the closeness to him cobwebbed my thoughts, and if I’d said anything remotely coherent, it was unlikely I had conveyed that sentiment with the conviction I felt.
I dialed his number, but there was no answer. I tried a text:
Need to talk ASAP
No reply. I tossed the phone aside and moaned, “Oh, God,” and threw an arm over my eyes, making my skull bleat in pain. I needed to go see him and wished my brain would stop crashing relentlessly against my cranium.
Bleary-eyed, I dragged myself out of bed and tiptoed to the kitchen, passing Dad snoring on the couch. I grunted at the line of empty liquor bottles next to the sink and made a cup of life-reviving coffee.
How anyone could think alcohol made his or her life better was pure insanity.
Outside, the sky was gray, and the wind had kicked up, blowing my hair in my face. I drove to Roosevelt Avenue with a nervous stomach, but the Faye house was dark and the driveway empty. I knocked and peeked into the front window for Bernie, but there were no happy, welcoming yaps to greet me.
I drove up the block, plotting my next move. As I waited at the stoplight at the adjacent corner, I spotted Eddie Rudack standing in the rain, holding a brown paper bag and waiting to cross the street. I lowered the car window and called to him.
“Claudia, hey!” He waved and made his way over to my car.
“Get in. I’ll give you a ride,” I said.
“Awesome.” Eddie ran around to the passenger side and hopped in.
“People generally use umbrellas if they have to go out in the rain.” I gave him the once over before the light turned green, and I stepped on the gas.
“Umbrella, shumbrella. Guys don’t use them,” he said and then gasped. “Crap, you look horrible.”
Apparently I looked about as awful as I felt. “Hangover,” I muttered and changed the subject. “How’s life treating you?”
“I’m doing amazing. Since I’m working, I
can finally buy you a cup of coffee.” He dug into his brown bag and brandished a paper coffee cup. Folding back the lid, he handed it to me. “Looks like you need this more than me.”
On the short ride to the Rudack’s house, I sipped Eddie’s hot coffee while he filled me in on what his work day was like. He made me laugh, something I wouldn’t have thought possible that day. The rain let up, but as we pulled up in front of the shady little house, a lump of anxiety wedged itself in my chest. Toby’s red Jeep was in the driveway.
“He’s not here. He lent the Jeep to Ray,” Eddie said, reading my mind. “Come in. You can ask Ray where he is.” He held up the brown bag. “I’ll even share my delicious breakfast sandwich with you.”
I stared at the house—the patchy lawn, the dingy front door, Ray’s broken down car.
“It’s okay,” Eddie responded to my silence. “You don’t have to.”
My eyes swung back to him, sitting beside me. There was a time not too long ago I wouldn’t have been comfortable giving someone like Eddie a ride, but now I was considering going to Ray for advice. Maybe I’d never be completely at home here in this environment with Toby’s old friends, but I was no longer fearful of it either.
“Thanks. I’ll come in, but I’ll pass on breakfast.” I threw open my door, not giving myself a chance to back out. “My stomach is kind of on the fritz anyway.”
Eddie opened the door, and Bernie charged us. I knelt to pet her and accept her eager welcome, confused as to why she was there.
“Don’t walk on the kitchen floor. I just mopped it,” Ray yelled from the kitchen.
“Raymundo, we got company,” Eddie hollered, and dropping onto the couch next to a girl who looked vaguely familiar, he began unpacking several sandwiches. “Claudia, you know Amy, Ray’s girlfriend?”
I didn’t even know Ray had a girlfriend. We both gave each other a short wave and said hi. Ray appeared in the kitchen doorway with a mop in his hands, staring at me. I tried to mask my surprise at how different he looked, but I wasn’t sure I contained it. He was wearing faded jeans and a red T-shirt, but it wasn’t the clothes. If he’d been wearing the same raggedy clothes, the result still would’ve been as stunning. It was his hair. It was short, and without the unkempt mane shrouding his face, he looked altogether like a different man—a man with an angular face and surprisingly nice eyes.
Keeping Claudia (Toby & Claudia Book 2) Page 37
