Getting her head out of La-La-Land, she said, “Move aside,” and took control of her chair to roll up next to Ty’s bed. “I hear you’re trying the do the honorable thing,” she said without preamble. “That’s gotta be an uncomfortable fit. You and I both know what you would really do given half a chance, so why don’t you just tell Kurstie what you told me when you thought you were going to die?”
Her friend whirled to gape at her, “What did he tell you?” she demanded at the same time Ty said, “Hooking up with me is the worst move she could make.”
“You’ll be an old man if you’re waiting for me to say, No, no, you have it all wrong.” A wave of wooziness had her weaving a little on her feet and she braced herself. “But you do not get to treat her like a child who doesn’t know her own mind when you’re the one who is too chickenshit to air a few honest emotions. So, tell her what you really want, let her tell you what she wants and take it from there. But just remember this, Ty. If you do hurt her, she has a brother who would be happy to beat the crap out of you with his bare hands.”
Jon-Michael, bless him, studied the knuckles of the fist he’d clenched.
“Not to mention a bestie—“ she bounced her thumb off her chest “—who will help her bury the body where no one will ever find it. So, man up and tell the truth for a change. I wanna go home.”
“Fine,” he said, a little sulky to be called out on his emotional dodge-‘em. At the same time, he looked at Kurstin with a gleam in his eye.
“Don’t think I won’t compare conversations with Hayley in the morning,” Kurstin interjected. “I will know if you wuss out.”
“That’s our cue to leave,” Jon-Michael said and Hayley nodded. She doubted either Ty or Kurstin even noticed when they let themselves out.
Ty eyed Kurstin warily. Except for her double-take when Hayley outed him, the woman had not taken her eyes off him. She barely waited now for the door to close behind her brother and best friend before demanding, “Let’s hear it.”
He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. He hadn’t given his life expectancy great odds during the however-long he had been in the woods. And his biggest regret had been willfully refusing to tell Kurstin the truth. Well, that and thinking it was a good idea not even attempting to explain himself in the wake of imploding their relationship.
Yet here he sat, not only alive but with a second chance a fingertip away. And still he had no idea where to start.
How ‘bout with an apology? his conscience whispered. You can never go wrong with an apology. “I’m sorry.”
“How nice.” Ok, her cool tone made it clear she wasn’t impressed. “Is that what you told Hayley when you thought you were going to die?”
“Yes. But mostly I asked her to make sure you knew how much I really did care for you.” He quit hiding behind an emotionless recitation and reached for her hand. Looked into her beautiful eyes. “God, Kurstin. I have felt more in the short time I’ve known you than I have for everyone else in my life, combined. I don’t know squat about love. So I can’t say for sure if that’s what all this turmoil is going on in here.“ He rotated the heel of his hand against the spot where his diaphragm met his sternum. “But it has to be something close to it. I sure as hell never knew it was possible to feel the way I do—both happier than I’ve ever been and scared shitless.”
“Yet not once did you say a word to me about it!”
“I wanted to. God, I cannot tell you how much I wanted to. But every time I started to, I just couldn’t. Look.” He gazed at her helplessly. “You’re like some damn...princess or something, while I’m—well, I’m from a poverty-stricken little nowhere town in West Virginia. A town I clawed my way out of before it could suck me into the mines. I’ve been clawing my way ever since—for jobs, for better by-lines, for that next rung up the ladder.” He blew out a breath. “Then I met you and had a proverbial smackdown between the angel on one shoulder and the devil on the other.”
“And we both know who won that round,” she muttered.
“I’m not proud of it. When I sent the Hayley article to my editor, I felt honest-to-Christ sick. I knew I’d betrayed your trust and made you betray your best friend in the process. But the damn tipping point wasn’t me worrying over giving up my dreams. It was the idea of meeting your father. I thought about telling him I had intentions toward you—then having to admit I was unemployed when he asked what I did for a living.”
“So, what’s changed, Ty? This is all very angsty, but five minutes ago you were ready to toss me away for a job on some stupid newspaper.”
“Some stupid—? On the New York Times!” He long considered himself shock-proof. But hearing the NYC referred to as some stupid newspaper scandalized him right down to his toenails.
Yet in truth? “I would give that job up in a red-hot minute if you’d forgive me. If you’d let me stick around to be your guy.”
“Would you.” There was the princess persona he had mentioned. Coolly, she looked him over from the top of his head to the toes of his big feet where they tented the hospital sheets. “I’ll have to review my options and get back to you on that. Meanwhile—“ She climbed onto the bed on his uninjured side and, smelling like a million bucks, snuggled against his far from pristine body. “Just hold me for a while.”
He wanted her to agree to be his right now. Wanted to pin down an ironclad arrangement she could not wiggle out of. Make her agree he could stay here with her. Or that she’d go to New York with him. Something.
But it had been a fucking eventful day to say the least. Wrapping his good arm around her, he did as instructed. And received a world full of comfort in return.
“So,” he said with studied casualness. “Did I ever tell you I have a political-opinion blog that is starting to attract some attention?”
Hayley gave Jon-Michael a self deprecatory smile as he helped her into the local taxi he’d called to take them home. “I know what you’re thinking.”
“Do you? Good trick, considering I don’t have a clue.”
“You’re thinking I’m a big-ass talker, giving Ty grief about being an emotional coward. Considering you’ve called me on being the same thing.” The cab driver turned left at the highway instead of right and she frowned out the window. “Hey, he’s going the wrong way.”
Jon-Michael ran his hand down her hair from her crown to her nape, which he squeezed to redirect her attention on him. “You said you wanted to go home.”
“I do. To your place.”
“Yeah?” His tired eyes brightened and the corners of his mouth curled up like burning paper.
“Yes. I just wanna go home.”
He leaned forward. “Harold,” he said to the cabbie. “Change of plans.”
Ten minutes later, Jon-Michael had Hayley settled on the couch with a glass of water. “How you feeling?”
She gave him a sweet, loopy smile. “Mighty fine.”
“Good drugs, huh?”
“Extremely.” She took a sip of her water and grimaced. “A glass of wine would be good, though.”
“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen. You’re a couple sheets to the wind as it is.”
“There is that,” she agreed amiably. She handed him the water glass. As he took it, she said, “I love you, Johnny.”
He bobbled the glass, righted it with only a small splash across the back of his hand, then very carefully set it on the coffee table. “You—?”
“Love you.” She yawned. “I’m a real big proponent of never lying to oneself, yet I sure refused to acknowledge the way I feel for you. For way too long, I refused to do that. But it’s a funny thing when someone tries to kill you. It points out in rolling neon arrows how absurd lying to yourself is.”
He watched her wince at the mention of arrows.
Then she shook her head as if to dislodge the image. “Anyhow, after I injured Patsy enough to get away, I ran like the frickin’ wind. And all I could think of, with every step I took, was you. About how much time I wasted playi
ng the same emotional dodge-em game I accused Ty of tonight. I should have admitted a long time ago what you and I both know.”
His heart pounding like a sonofabitch, he sat carefully on the edge of the couch next to her. “And we know...you’re in love with me?”
“Crazy in love with you. Mow-down-anyone-who-gets–in-my-way in love with you.” Her lips curled up. “You had me at the Groucho glasses, Olivet.”
Then she looked him in the eye with complete seriousness. “You have turned yourself into such a fine man, Jon-Michael.”
It was as if she’d reached inside his chest and wrapped her warm, capable hand around his heart. “Aw, Hayley.” Carefully, he scooped up her, sat down in the space she had occupied and rested her on his lap. He cradled her with her good shoulder tucked against his chest, her round butt nestled in his lap and her legs sprawled along the couch cushions. Pressing his chin against her cheek, he said in a low, rough voice directly into her ear, “I love you so much. I have for a long, long time. Soon as your meds wear off I’m going to ask you to repeat yourself, just to be sure we’re really on the same page here.”
She laughed. “Fair enough, but the answer will be the same. Hey!” She raised her head. “I’m so sorry, I never even asked. How did the board meeting go?”
“I aced it! Your Right-Is-Might turned out to be prophetic. Except for the old man and Jensen, they voted unanimously for my proposal. And the company is going to lease my part.” He shook his head in wonder. “I planned to give it to them, but the old man has been such a pain in the ass I’m dead happy to take his money.” Then he shrugged. “Knowing you love me, though? All that could have gone completely the other way and I’d still say life doesn’t get any better than this.”
“Adore the sentiment.” She rubbed her smooth cheek against his beyond five o’clock shadow. “But I love this outcome even more. And Jon-Michael?”
“Yeah, darlin’?”
“I am so glad to know I’ll have you by my side when, or if, they execute Lawrence Wilson. Knowing I have you to lean on, I can get through either outcome.” She pressed her cheek more firmly against his. “God, my heart feels like a big old balloon o’ bliss. And the best part? I can’t help but believe our life will continue getting even better.”
“If that’s even possible.”
“I know, right? But I’d wager everything I own on it, which, okay, isn’t much. But if I had a fortune I would bet it all on us. Because I know in my heart our love is just going to keep growing.”
“Amen, sister.” Tilting his head, he pressed a gentle kiss to her pretty lips, then moved to rest his forehead against hers. “But I still want to hear it from you when the opiates are all out of your system.”
“Deal.”
And the following morning, she told him the same thing all over again.
Epilogue
Late February
The lighting inside Bluey’s was a shade less atmospheric than usual on this frigid Monday night. Then again, it was a far from typical evening at the blues club. Jon-Michael and Hayley had rented the space for their engagement party.
Sounds of celebration: the boisterous laughter of their guests, the rise and fall of conversations, the clink of glasses and murmurs of appreciation over the beautifully presented, tasty hors d’oeuvres being circulated by the high school kids she had hired for the night, made Hayley smile.
Yet even as she appreciated the way Janiva Magness’s lament about some guy who was never hers poured from the speakers to weave its way through the joyous party noise, she found herself peeking out the window. For the umpteenth time.
A strong hand rubbed circles between her shoulder blades. “She’ll be here,” Jon-Michael assured her in a low voice.
“I know.” She turned to smile at him. “She called to let me know her stinkin’ flight finally touched down.” Which was old news she promptly waved aside. “It’s still a long drive.”
“Kurstie drives like a maniac and will be here before you know it.” Leaning down, Jon-Michael pressed his lips to the curve where her neck met her shoulder. “In the meantime, how about we relax and enjoy the party?” he murmured. “It’s our night to crow.”
Her love for this man filled every atom of her being, pushing aside her impatience to see her best friend sooner rather than later. She missed Kurstie, but the past seven months had been the happiest of Hayley’s life. “You’re right. She will get here when she gets here.” She smoothed his black and gold Art Deco inspired tie over his shirt and gave him a peck on the lips. “Buy a girl a drink?”
“You got it.” With his hand pressed lightly against the small of her back, he steered her toward the bar.
Hayley stopped halfway there to introduce Jon-Michael to two Lincoln High teachers she’d built a friendship with since joining the staff in September. She smiled as he charmed their pants off in his laid back, low-key way. When the women excused themselves to freshen their drinks, Jon-Michael’s secretary intercepted them to shyly introduce her boyfriend and tell them they really knew how to throw a party.
The boyfriend heartily agreed. “I particularly liked the photo booth,” he said, whipping out the strip the young couple had taken to show them.
The entire night just warmed Hayley’s soul and she laughed when they reached the bar. “Best. Engagement party. Ever.” She turned to Bluey, who was personally bartending tonight. “Vodka and cranberry, please.”
“You got it.” He assembled her drink and poured Jon-Michael a club soda on the rocks. “Nice turnout,” he observed as he slid their drinks across the bar.
“It is. I was tickled when so many people RSVPed.”
A board member pulled Jon-Michael aside to discuss something and Bluey left to wait on the group who hailed him from the other end of the bar. They had barely walked away when a male voice at her shoulder said, “Hey.”
She swiveled to see Joe standing behind her with his arm draped over Lucy’s shoulders. Hayley had been surprised when the two hooked up around Christmas. She never would have predicted the combination, but they worked as a couple. “Hey, yourselves,” she said and gave them both a hug.
Stepping back from Lucy, she ran her gaze over the other woman’s one-shouldered Ed Hardy dress and reached out to tweak its silky fabric. “This is so you! And I love the red in your hair, too. Very chic.”
They visited for a few minutes before Lucy excused herself to discuss something business related with Bluey, who was still at the far end of the counter. She had barely walked away when Joe edged Hayley away from the bar. Next thing she knew, the two of them were the sole occupants of a temporarily empty space. She raised her eyebrows at him.
Joe gently touched the edge of his thumb to what she knew, despite careful makeup application, were faint shadows beneath her eyes. “Jon-Michael tells me you’ve had trouble sleeping since Patsy’s death.”
Her first inclination was to dodge the implicit question with a few facile platitudes. Instead she nodded. Because if anyone was likely to understand the emotions she’d been dealing with, it was Joe. “I can’t shake the feeling I should have done more for Patsy while she was alive,” she admitted in a low voice. “It kills me that not only did I not, I often went out of my way to avoid her.”
“You’re talking to the man who moved out once he saw how screwed up his wife was,” he replied. “So I get the guilt. The difference here is I’ve had a little longer to process everything. I spent a lot of time, both before and after Pats died, trying to figure out what the hell drove her to want to hurt people for cri’sake.”
“And did you reach any conclusions?” Because I could really use a conclusion.
“You ask me, if anyone is to blame for twisting Patsy’s psyche, it was her bitch of a mother.”
“Which makes me feel even guiltier for not trying harder with her.”
“Hayley, she was damn good at hiding how messed up she’d become. You could have devoted every damn day to her and I bet the end result would have been the s
ame. Most of us have more than one friend and naturally you would’ve divided your attention between yours. Patsy was incapable of accepting that. As for not doing enough? Jesus, look at the huge favor you did her by calling out her mom. I’m sure Patsy’s hero-worship started out as a harmless talisman against her mother’s constant belittling. Yet, aside from a pathological need to know your every thought, did Patsy ever simply say she was sorry for your troubles and let it go at that?”
Hayley shook her head.
“Neither did I, and I am sorrier than I can say for my insensitivity. I think too damn many of us looked at the events turning your life upside down as if it was an exciting big-screen thriller. But the difference between the rest of the town and Patsy is in the end her hero worship morphed into something that damn near got you killed.”
Reaching for her hands, Joe held her gaze with a keenly serious one of his own. “So, big deal, you didn’t want to spend twenty-four/seven with her. Except for maybe Jon-Michael, is there anyone you have a desire to spend such concentrated time with?”
No. Not even Jon-Michael, if truth be told—and she loved him like her next breath. But she had always needed private time that was hers alone. The guilt, which had robbed her of sleep on a near-nightly basis, suddenly felt lighter. A wispier burden a fresh new breeze might whisk away.
She leaned in to kiss Joe’s cheek. As she stepped back she gave his hand a fierce squeeze. “Thank you. You didn’t say anything I haven’t tried telling myself—but it has more weight coming from you. I get the feeling you struggled with the guilt as much as I did.”
“Yeah.” He shot her a crooked smile. “But I’ve learned to let it go.” dpgroup
“I’m glad. And I thank you from the bottom of my heart for giving me the tools to start doing the same. I plan to take my newly-gained awareness of Patsy’s pain and self-imposed isolation to use with my own needy students.”
Notorious Page 29
