Brenda Novak

by Home to Whiskey Creek

  Addy shoved the table as she scrambled out of the booth, making Noah’s silverware rattle against his plate. “What do you want?” She reached for her phone but he crossed the restaurant and snatched it out of her hands before she could call for help.

  “It’s time you and I had a talk.” He slipped her cell into his pocket. “Now that we have a few minutes of privacy.”

  They certainly had that. She’d let all the employees go home; there would be no one to intervene—or save her, if necessary.

  “Didn’t we already have a talk when you dragged me up to the mine last week?” She eyed the fork Noah had used at dinner, trying to gauge whether or not she could grab it should she need to.

  “You think that was me?”

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Because it wasn’t.”

  Did he have a white truck? She’d been so busy with the restaurant, and so fearful of approaching his house, she hadn’t checked. But she’d been meaning to. “I’m supposed to take your word for it?”

  “One mistake doesn’t define an individual, Addy. Just because I got involved in something I shouldn’t have fifteen years ago doesn’t mean I’d hurt you again.”

  “Is that how you sleep at night? By using euphemisms like ‘involved’ instead of more honest terms? And believing that one mistake doesn’t prove you’re a bad person?”

  He scowled. “Stop being so dramatic. You’re making such a big deal out of what happened.”

  “You mean out of what you did? Don’t talk about it as if it was beyond your control.”

  Rubbing his neck, he sighed. “Look, I’m just trying to tell you that you don’t have to be scared of me, of any of us. I’ve talked to the guys. We don’t intend you any harm. I’d prefer it if we could all be friends. At least you and I.”

  “You’ve got to be insane!”

  “Fine. If that’s the way you want it. But I’m not going to let you come back here and ruin my life. Maybe what I did was wrong. But it’s in the past. It’s over, and I can’t change it. You understand?”

  She laughed without mirth. “Yeah, I understand. You’re shrugging it off like it was nothing. You want to go about your business as if you never raped me.”

  “What are my other choices?” He was getting upset, starting to shout. “What would you rather I do? Hate myself forever because you’ve decided to feel sorry for yourself indefinitely?”

  She shook her head in disgust. “You’re a real prick. You know that?”

  “There was no damage done.”

  No damage? She wasn’t sure he could’ve said anything that would make her angrier. “You and your buddies held me down while you took turns climbing on top of me! Raping me! You think that didn’t hurt?”

  He grimaced as if she’d just presented him with a mental picture he didn’t want to see. “It wasn’t really like that. And if you say it was, I’ll claim you came on to me, that we had sex because you wanted it.”

  “You’d say I wanted all five of you—even though I was a virgin and only sixteen? You really think you can sell that?”

  “I have more friends in this town than you do.”

  “Congratulations. You’ve just set a new standard for despicable.”

  With a curse, he pivoted to go but then turned back. “Come on, I was hoping we could end this in a...a truce, at least. Agree to be polite to each other, if not friends.”

  “You’re delusional if you think I’ll ever spare you a kind thought. Get out of here and quit leaving notes on my car.”

  “I’m not leaving you any notes. And you did want us,” he said. “You followed us around like a whipped puppy our entire senior year.”

  She lowered her voice. “Because I thought you were something special. Imagine my surprise when I realized you weren’t.”

  He reared back, looking stung. She got the impression he was egotistical enough to want her to think well of him despite what he’d done. As the football coach, he was a notable figure in Whiskey Creek. He liked the attention and esteem his job gave him, and had obviously bought into the illusion that he was an important individual.

  “It was fifteen years ago! We had sex. So what? Look at you. You’re fine. Beautiful.”

  “No, don’t look at me. Don’t speak to me. Don’t speak of me and don’t victimize anyone else or—”

  “Victimize anyone else?” He stared up at the ceiling as if he couldn’t believe his ears. “God, you make it sound like I’m some sort of predator. I’m a husband and a father. I’m a coach, for crying out loud. Cody was the one.”

  She raised her chin for emphasis. “Don’t shift the blame to Cody. You gang-raped a girl the night you graduated from high school, and that girl happened to be me. Maybe it’s time you owned it.”

  With another curse, he pressed three fingers to his forehead. “So what does that mean? That you’re going to tell? That you’re just waiting for the right moment to bring out your old panties stained with our semen?”

  She wished she’d kept that kind of evidence. But she’d gotten rid of her clothes—at the first opportunity— by throwing them into the Dumpster behind Just Like Mom’s. She’d been too afraid that what was on them would tie her to Cody. “Just keep your distance,” she said, “and don’t come back in here.”

  “I can’t eat at Just Like Mom’s?” He acted appalled, as though he had just as much right to Gran’s restaurant as she did.

  “If you do, I’ll...I’ll put something bad in your food.” She knew she sounded juvenile, but she didn’t care.

  “It’s football season. And that’s nasty!”

  She doubted she could ever go through with that threat, but it felt great to have a little power. “Your assistant coach can come in with the team on Mondays. Not you. And don’t come anywhere near my house, either.”

  He threw up his hands. “Fine! What the hell am I worried about? It won’t do you any good even if you do talk. Consensual sex produces semen, too.”

  “You’re such a selfish liar!”

  “I should let you destroy my life instead? Cost me my wife and kids? My job? A man has a right to defend those things!”

  “If what you’ve built in the past fifteen years is at risk, it’s because of your actions, not mine. Just leave me alone, like I said, and you can continue living your lie, as long as the people around you think you’re worth it.”

  His face bloomed red. “I came in here to make amends. It didn’t have to go this way,” he began, but the bell over the door rang yet again, signaling the entrance of someone else, and that silenced him.

  Startled that anyone would come in after hours, Addy angled her head to see around Kevin. Thriller writer Ted Dixon stood next to the row of high chairs near the entrance.

  “Am I interrupting?”

  Addy drew a deep, calming breath. “No. Come sit down. We’re technically closed, but, um, I can make you a bite to eat if you’d like.” The kitchen had been cleaned, but if it meant that Kevin would leave, she’d clean it again.

  Kevin glanced between them. “Right, uh—” he waved at the dishes Noah had left “—thanks for dinner. It was great.”

  She said nothing. She knew she should do what she could to help him pretend. No doubt Ted could feel the negative energy in the room. But she didn’t have the necessary reserves.

  Ted waited until Kevin had put her phone on the table and walked out before addressing her again. “Are you okay?”

  “Of course.” She started clearing Noah’s table so she wouldn’t have to look at him. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “I heard some shouting when I was coming in.”

  “Coach Colbert wasn’t happy with his meat loaf.”

  “Didn’t he just say it was great?”

  She motioned to one of the other tables. “Would over there be okay? I’ll get you a menu.”

  As he watched her slide her phone into her own pocket, she wondered what he’d made of Kevin’s having had it.

  “I didn’t come to eat, Add
y. I saw your car, so I stopped in. Kevin’s wasn’t in the lot, which is why I was surprised to find him here.”

  Of course Kevin wouldn’t park in the lot, not after hours when she was the only one here. That didn’t come as a revelation, but the part where Ted said he’d stopped in because he saw her car did.

  “Do you need some catering for a book signing or...”

  He smiled at her guess. “Not this time. I wanted to invite you to a Halloween party tomorrow night. It won’t be anything big. I decided, last minute, to have a few friends over and thought you might like to join us.”

  She assumed Noah would be there, which meant she had to decline. “I’m having a little trouble keeping the restaurant staffed right now. Darlene needed to take today off, and I’m not sure she’ll be back tomorrow.” Or ever, if they couldn’t come to some accord. “You’d better not plan on me.”

  “It’ll be going until one or so. Maybe you can drop by for a few minutes on your way home.”

  “I’ll try,” she promised. “Are you sure I can’t get you a cup of coffee or something?”

  He slid into the booth she’d indicated earlier. “Will you come talk to me while I drink it?”

  * * *

  Although Addy knew there were people who’d argue with her, she didn’t find Ted nearly as handsome as Noah. He didn’t seem as good-natured, either. Addy could tell it in the stiffness of his bearing. While Noah was open and trusting and eager to sample all the world had to offer—as if he believed he could never get hurt—Ted showed more restraint. He knew life had some sharp corners. And although he kept himself on a tight leash, she sensed that he had a temper.

  Still, she liked him. And she admired his many talents. While he’d been student body president, Eureka High had done more to help local charities than the Rotary Club and Sisters for a Better Whiskey Creek combined. Ted was a natural leader. After he’d been voted Most Likely to Become a Politician in high school, Addy had always imagined he’d be mayor someday. Maybe he’d run when Noah’s father retired....

  He laughed when she told him what she saw in his future. “I doubt I’ll ever get into politics,” he said.

  “But it’s not really politics. Not here. It’s more like a popularity contest. And you’re one of the most popular people I know.”

  “It’d be a lot of work. I’d have to save the rest of the historic buildings, figure out a way to clean up the leftover tailings from the mines, expand the park downtown, create a new source of revenue for the museum. The list goes on.”

  She grinned. “In other words, you’d make it a lot of work.” Just like he’d done with the position of student body president. What high school senior expected to accomplish the goals he’d set for himself? “You’re a chronic high-achiever.”

  From there the conversation segued into what had been going on in Whiskey Creek while she was away. He caught her up on everything Gran might’ve missed, especially among his friends. There were more details on the renovation and name change of the B and B owned by Eve Harmon and her family. The discovery of Cheyenne’s true identity. The scare Callie Vanetta had given them when her liver stopped working last summer. They even discussed Kyle and Noelle’s brief marriage and the rumor that she’d aborted Kyle’s baby without asking him. Then Ted wanted to know all about her and what she’d been doing for the past thirteen years.

  Pretty soon Addy was enjoying herself so much she almost forgot there were certain things she couldn’t mention—like the name of her ex-husband or the restaurant where she used to work. Noah had shown interest in acquiring both pieces of information, and while she didn’t think he’d go to any great amount of work to ferret out the details of her past, she didn’t want to drop them in his lap. She couldn’t allow her life here and the life she’d known in Davis to overlap. She hadn’t told many people about the rape. But she had told the man she’d eventually married. She’d visited the therapist who’d helped her get past the rape for a “refresher” before saying “I do” and Clyde had joined her for a few sessions.

  Even if someone confronted him, Addy doubted he’d give her away. But their relationship hadn’t ended particularly well. She wasn’t convinced she could count on his discretion, especially if he were to encounter Noah. When she’d found out about Clyde and his waitress girlfriend, she’d told him she’d never really loved him, anyway, that Noah was the only man she’d ever wanted with her whole heart. Considering how hard he’d taken that, she wasn’t completely sure Clyde would forgo the opportunity to exact revenge.

  “Have you ever been married?” she asked.

  Steam rose from his cup as he poured himself more coffee. “No.”

  “Engaged?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Would you like to get married?”

  “Isn’t it a bit soon for you to propose?”

  She laughed. “That did sound like a proposal.”

  “I’d like a family, with the right person,” he said. “You?”

  “I’ve always wanted two or three kids. But...I can’t see that happening.”

  “Because...”

  “I don’t plan on marrying again.” She’d never felt more helpless and cornered—more vulnerable—than when she’d been Mrs. Clyde Kingsdale. Why put herself in a similar position?

  “Considering how your ex behaved, I can understand why,” he said.

  She’d told him about the cheating. But tonight she realized that wasn’t all that had split them up. With Clyde, she’d never felt the kind of excitement she’d experienced last Sunday with Noah. But accepting her lack of emotional commitment meant she also had to accept partial responsibility for the failed marriage. “It might have been different, better, if I’d been in love.”

  His cup clicked on its saucer. “Why’d you marry him if you didn’t love him?”

  “I guess if you don’t really love someone, you sort of...limit your liability.”

  “You were protecting yourself?”

  “To a point. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I wasn’t willing to go all in, if that makes sense.”

  “Sometimes that’s not something you can control.”

  “It sounds like you’re speaking from experience.”

  “I am.”

  “What happened?”

  “She got away.”

  Did he mean Sophia? The girl he’d dated in high school? Or someone else? She doubted he’d tell her, so she didn’t ask.

  He took a sip of coffee. “Didn’t you used to have a thing for Noah?”

  She rolled her eyes. “How’d you guess? Was it that I drooled whenever he walked by? That I went red as a tomato and began to stammer if he deigned to talk to me? Or was it that I just ‘happened’ to be wherever I might run into him?”

  Chuckling, Ted slid lower in his seat. “I wouldn’t be too embarrassed if I were you. You weren’t the only one.”

  “No. A lot of girls liked Noah. And he probably slept with every one of them.” Except me.

  “Actually, Noah didn’t lose his virginity until college. All he cared about was sports. But Cody made up for it.”

  She did what she could to read his expression, but Ted wasn’t nearly as transparent as most people. “Because he had a steady girlfriend, you mean?”

  “Whether he had a girlfriend or not didn’t matter. Shania still mourns his death, still talks about how different her life would be if he hadn’t died. But...” He gave a little shrug as if he shouldn’t say it but was going to, anyway. “I highly doubt he would’ve made a good husband. Noah tried and tried to get him to settle down. He just wouldn’t. You don’t hear that now that he’s been canonized. You only hear how wonderful he was. He did have a lot of potential, but...whether or not he would’ve achieved it is another story.”

  “He wasn’t a very nice person,” she said.

  Her agreement seemed to surprise him. “How well did you know Cody?”

  “I danced with him once or twice. That’s all. But...there was something sort of...sup
erficial about him.”

  “You were there at the party on graduation, right?”

  A tremor of foreboding swept through Addy; she’d said too much. But she couldn’t deny having attended the party. Too many people had seen her there.

  She nodded.

  “There were so many kids at the mine,” Ted murmured. “It’s strange that he was the only one to get hurt, don’t you think? I mean, why would he be the last to leave? And why would he be by himself? Cody was never by himself. Even if Noah wasn’t around, he always had a posse.”

  The vinyl upholstery squeaked as she shifted. “I heard he forgot his coat and went back for it.”

  “I heard that, too, but...it doesn’t make a lot of sense to me. He wasn’t fastidious. He could’ve retrieved it the next day, when he was sober. Why go all the way back to the mine if you’ve already been out all night?”

  Cody hadn’t appeared too late. Even after their encounter, she’d had time to walk the five miles or so to the road, thumb a ride and arrive home before dawn. A cement contractor from Jackson had stopped on his way to a six o’clock job in Angels Camp. When she portrayed herself as having partied too much and gotten separated from her friends, he bought into the whole thing. She didn’t say a word about the mine or Cody or having been raped. He’d attributed her disheveled state and her presence on the side of the road to alcohol, had even mentioned some of the crazy stuff he’d done the night he graduated from high school.

  “Maybe Cody wasn’t thinking straight,” she said. “When I saw him earlier in the evening, he was completely wasted.”

  Ted shrugged. “That could account for it, I guess.”

  Suddenly uncomfortable, she stepped out of the booth. “I’d better clear this up. It’s getting late.”

  He stood, too, and dug a five-dollar bill from his pocket. “Thanks for the coffee.”

  She refused his money. “My treat.”

  “You sure?”

  “It was a cup of coffee. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Thanks. I enjoyed getting to know you,” he said. “I hope you’ll make it to the party tomorrow. And, if you come, bring your swimsuit. I have a Jacuzzi. Might feel nice to get in if it’s as cold as tonight.”