Gracie’s hand shot out and rubbed my shoulder supportively. “It’ll get easier,” she soothed.
“You are mean,” I declared.
“Just facing the demons. You can’t block off entire sections of the city just because they make you sad. If you’re going to do that, you might as well just move back to Indy.”
She had a point. So I didn’t protest as she made her way inevitably to Blake’s, again not needing directions. It was like she was a one woman GPS. During the short ride, I psyched myself up by taking deep breaths and telling myself that nothing bad was going to happen. Like Gracie had said, no one had ever seen her car before. In the chilly February air, it wasn’t as though Blake would be sitting on the porch watching traffic go by. And I needed to desensitize myself to things. These were just roads, just houses and neighborhoods from my not so distant past.
I was surprisingly okay as we turned down my old street. Night had fallen, and I could see the warm glow of lights from the cul-de-sac ahead. Blake was home. And she wasn’t alone. Parked in the driveway was the black Camry. This was disturbing on more than a few levels.
“Shit!” I said, lowering myself in my seat as we got closer. “He’s not supposed to be here. He’s supposed to be at the game.”
“Or maybe he’s right where he needs to be,” Gracie said earnestly, glancing over at me meaningfully. I wanted to kill her. “And maybe you are where you need to be, too.”
To my disbelief, she pulled the car to a stop just past the house.
“No,” I said, shaking my head.
“Lauren, you could end all this craziness right now. You could just walk right up the driveway, ring the doorbell and make up with both of them in one fell swoop. They’re your only friends here. You’re going to let a little thing like a kiss ruin that?”
My heart pounded as I stared unblinking at the house I used to call my home. I had broken out into a cold sweat and I knew the waterworks were on their way. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the sight, the welcoming nature of the place. Blake had no doubt created that on purpose. Nothing bad could happen in a yellow house, right?
I suddenly knew exactly how Chris had felt the night he dropped me off here. The sense of foreboding that came with knowing you were so close, yet so far away. I stared longingly at Matthew’s car, knowing he was mere feet away from me. All I had to do was get out of the car and we’d be separated by nothing more than some siding and drywall.
Just like when we’d last been together.
“You make it sound so easy,” I breathed.
“It could be.”
But the last time we’d been in this proximity, when he’d known darn well I was on the other side of the door, he hadn’t come out to stop me from leaving. That was all the answer I needed.
“No,” I said again, my voice much stronger than I expected it to be. “I can’t keep living in the past. There’s nothing left here for me. Let’s go.”
Gracie stared at me for a long minute, those beautiful brown eyes begging to call my bluff. I refused to back down, refused to show her that even I didn’t believe the words that came out of my mouth. I half expected her to climb out of the car and go up to the house herself, drag Matthew out here and force us to talk to each other.
Instead, she took her foot off the brake and pulled away from the curb, leaving my past – and my heart – behind us.
Chapter Ten
The closing on my house was ironically scheduled the same day as the Parabelle concert. It’s as if someone was playing an intricate practical joke on me. Planets were aligning in just the right way to remind me that my future had turned out quite differently than I had planned. And Matthew was still at the center of everything – my own personal sun – even in his absence. There was no way I could ever forget the offer on my home had been written the day of the hockey game and I was handed the keys the day of the concert.
So instead of driving down to Indy after work and spending the night on Gracie’s couch, Gracie drove up to Fort Wayne after work and spent the night on the floor of my new home. I couldn’t stand one more night in the hotel. We made the best of it and pretended we were having a slumber party, curling up on the carpet with our blankets and pillows. Dad was coming in the morning to help move my meager belongings over from the storage facility, though I knew it was just an excuse for him to check up on me. My furniture was also coming bright and early in the morning, so the blanket fort was just a one night thing.
Gracie had offered to go with me to the concert but I told her no. I seriously doubted Matthew would make the trip alone, but the mere thought of us being in the same place at the same time gave me pause. I could imagine sitting in some smoky bar down in Indy, watching my favorite band giving an intimate concert only to look up and meet the gaze of the most beautiful, tortured blue eyes ever. Plus, I could barely get through one of their CDs anymore without bursting into tears and public hysteria was something I wanted to avoid.
If Matthew wasn’t going to use his birthday present from me I wasn’t going to go to my Christmas present from him. Two could play that game. It burned me more than I wanted to let on that I knew he hadn’t gone to Detroit to see the hockey game. I paid good money for those tickets and they had gone to waste so that he could do what – sit with his sister like any other night?
As I had drifted off to sleep atop my brand new carpeting Friday night, the thought occurred to me that maybe he had missed the Red Wings game for the same reason I was missing Parabelle playing live. Because even though we had liked those things prior to meeting one another, now that whatever had happened between us had happened, memories of the other person were indelibly left behind. Memories that hurt too much to face. It became easier to give up a little piece of ourselves instead of facing the harsh reminder that the other wasn’t there anymore.
I pushed those thoughts down almost immediately and fell into a fitful slumber. I tossed and turned, partially due to the fact I was sleeping on a slab of minimally covered concrete but mostly due to what I knew I was missing. Regret was an evil thing.
Before I knew it, Gracie was gently shaking me awake.
“Morning, sleepy head,” she cooed softly.
I moaned and threw my arm over my eyes. “No.”
She responded by pulling my blanket off of me.
“Fine, fine, I’m up.” I sat up to prove my point.
“We need to run and get some breakfast before everyone and everything shows up,” she said, ever the voice of reason.
“What time is it?” I asked, reaching for my cell. She answered at the same time that I saw for myself.
“It’s six-thirty.”
“Really?” I stared at her in disbelief. “Who in their right mind gets up this early on a Saturday?”
“People who have furniture coming between the hours of eight and noon. People who don’t want said delivery guys to see them prior to showering and getting dressed. People who don’t want their best friend to eat them for breakfast because they have no food in their house.”
I couldn’t argue, though I cursed myself silently for scheduling the furniture delivery so early. I had been so eager to get everything done and over with that I hadn’t really thought the logistics of it out. It had seemed like a good idea at the time to reserve the earliest delivery window. In the back of my mind I had a feeling that we would be waiting until closer to the afternoon for them to show up, but I wasn’t about to press my luck.
We had both slept in sweats and t-shirts and decided to just throw on our coats and go as is to the nearest drive-through. I didn’t even consult a mirror before we left, figuring that Gracie would stop me if something was really embarrassing about my appearance. She, as usual, had nothing to worry about.
Traffic was non-existent at that hour, and we made it there and back in record time and without incident. I doubted that the cashier at the window was any more awake than we were; he barely glanced at me as I handed him my debit card to pay. I wasn’t exactly ful
l of joy to be out and about either, so I wasn’t offended.
Not knowing if Dad would stop and get something to eat on his way up, I grabbed him a breakfast sandwich, too. I stuffed the bag into my otherwise empty fridge and shrugged. If he didn’t want it, I could always heat it up later.
We ate quickly and retreated to the two bathrooms to get ready for my dad’s impending arrival. I, of course, headed toward the facilities in the master bedroom. It all felt pretty surreal to think that I owned this place. Everything was so fresh and brand new, so impersonal and foreign to me that I knew it would take more than a few days to come to terms with the fact that I lived here.
The water from the shower head beat down upon me as I silently made a list of all that needed to be done. Number one was the furniture. Once that was in place, the three of us would head to the storage facility and pick up the rest of my stuff. I knew I wanted to paint; model home off-white just wasn’t cutting it for me. First, though, I wanted to see everything that I’d purchased here in person and not under the fluorescent showroom lights. Then I could pretend I knew what I was doing and choose colors. I also needed to go to the grocery store.
There was no way in the world that I would be getting that all done before Monday. Being overwhelmed was a good thing; it meant there would be little time to think about anything – or anyone – else. If I could just get through today and my dad’s well-meaning interrogation of the past few weeks’ events, it could potentially be smooth sailing for the near future.
I was pretty sure that no one would argue with the fact that I deserved some calmer waters.
Dad showed up promptly at seven thirty. I had just finished with my hair and makeup and was walking into the living room when I saw his Buick pull into the driveway. I met him at the door, engulfing him in a hug.
“Congratulations, sweetheart,” he said, pulling away and holding me at arm’s length, “I’m so proud of you.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
No matter how many times in my twenty-six years he had praised me for something, it never grew old. He had always been my biggest fan, my most fervent supporter. I realized he felt the need to make up for my mother not being able to share in the moment; his words spoke for what he imagined she would feel had she been here as well. At least I hoped she would have been proud.
His thumb brushed over the mark on my forehead that Gracie’s table had left. My cheeks burned as he touched it; I thought I had done a good job of covering it up with my bangs.
“What happened here?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Unfortunate furniture placement at Gracie’s place. I’m not used to sleeping on a couch.”
He took my explanation at face value. I wasn’t about to get into the ugly details if I didn’t have to. I knew he wouldn’t care that I had gotten drunk, but I didn’t want to alter his view of me if I didn’t have to. It was nice to be perfect in someone’s eyes.
“Hey, Doug,” Gracie said as she emerged from the bathroom down the hall.
“Morning, Gracie,” he said warmly.
“Did you find the place okay?” I asked, instinctively taking his coat from him as he slipped it off. Realizing that I didn’t have any hangers for my closet, I set it on the floor.
He laughed. “Yeah, no problems at all. Gracie gave me good directions.”
My dad and my best friend exchanged a knowing glance. It was easy to forget that the two of them probably talked to each other as much, if not more, than they did to me. Their contact had increased exponentially since my move last fall. Gracie was truly his local daughter.
“If I didn’t know better,” I said, giving Gracie an equally weighted look, “I’d swear she knew her way around this place better than I did.”
My friend’s brown eyes were filled with innocence at my remark. We both knew what I was alluding to. As much as she swore up and down that she hadn’t had any contact with Blake and Matthew after I had moved out, I still wasn’t entirely convinced. The whole Matthew being at Blake’s when we just happened to drive by thing was more than a little convenient. Add that to the fact that she had driven to their respective homes without any instruction from me and the result was suspicious at best. I wanted to believe her. I just wasn’t completely there yet.
“Ready to take the tour?” I asked, rubbing my hands together anxiously.
Dad trailed me around the largely empty home, expressing appropriate amounts of enthusiasm. The kitchen was really the only place that looked halfway finished; thank goodness for the builder including the appliances in the purchase price. I kept up a steady stream of conversation along the way, telling him where I envisioned the soon to be delivered furniture.
“It’ll look better when everything’s here,” I admitted, “I’m just not as good as some people at making something out of nothing.”
“It’s great, honey, really,” he said.
I breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m glad you like it.”
That was me, always seeking out someone else’s approval for every step I took. Eric had me trained well. For ten years I had looked to him for his opinion on every major decision in my life. The last one had been my car, though I hadn’t relented and gotten a luxury model like he suggested. This house was my first declaration of independence and since I no longer had an Eric, I expected my dad to fill in. It was really too late now; even if I had buyer’s remorse, it wasn’t like I could just take a house back.
“So, kid, how are you holding up?” His tone had switched in the blink of an eye from lighthearted to serious.
“I’m fine.”
“Really?”
I swallowed with difficulty. I followed his eyes over to Gracie, who stopped shaking her head violently when I caught her. She smiled guiltily and headed toward the back of the house to give us some privacy.
“I will be.”
Dad placed his hand on my shoulder. “When Eric asked me if he could marry you, I wasn’t surprised. I wanted to ask him what took so long” – he and I both chuckled at that – “but instead I gave him a piece of advice. I told him to make sure that he was absolutely committed to you before he proposed. That he would move heaven and earth to be with you, because you deserved nothing less.”
So maybe that explained his urgency in putting up the condo for sale. The declarations of love that had come after years of silence on the subject. That was him showing me how he would do anything for me. My dad had forced his hand; those actions may or may not have been organic.
“I gave him my blessing but also a warning. I told him that I wasn’t entirely convinced that you would accept. Five years ago, you would have jumped at the chance. A lot of things have changed since then. And you proved that my gut feeling was correct.”
“I hurt him, Dad.”
“I know. But better now than years later when you’re both unfulfilled and there are children in the equation.”
“He was so mad at me,” I continued, ignoring the fact that he had validated my behavior. “I never should have let him get to that point. There were so many times that I should have let go; I should have ended things when I moved up here. But I was scared. I was scared of what eventually happened anyway. The screaming and the yelling and the hatred.”
“Honey, you weren’t sure how you felt when you moved here. He didn’t exactly step up to the plate and do himself favors once you got here.”
“And I wasn’t the best girlfriend, either.”
“So you both made mistakes. You’re both human.”
I bit my lip. “I strung him along. He came over to Blake’s and proposed and I was just speechless. I couldn’t think. I didn’t want to think. So I told him I needed time.”
“And he gave it to you.”
“And I went out the next day and cheated on him.”
His eyebrow raised. Damn. I seriously thought that Gracie would have clued him in on that little tidbit of information. They shared practically everything else. There went my perfection rating.
“Gracie to
ld me it was a kiss. Nothing more.”
My stomach unclenched. He did know.
“It was just a kiss. Or ten. But it was still wrong on so many levels.”
I desperately wished that we weren’t having this conversation while standing up. This was a sprawled out on the couch kind of discussion. Admitting that I had no other options at the time, I slumped down on the floor, Indian-style on the carpeting. Dad followed suit.
“But you stopped,” he pressed. Bless him for not judging me.
“I wouldn’t have.”
“But you stopped,” he repeated.
“Only because Matthew pulled away. Because he didn’t want me.”
My lower lip trembled, but I shook my head, determined not to cry. Eventually I would be able to recall the rejection without bursting into tears. I wasn’t quite there yet.
“It wasn’t enough that I made up my mind to break up with Eric. I had to overstep the boundaries and ruin two friendships, too. I misinterpreted everything. He was never interested in me. Not like that.”
“Or maybe he loves you enough to let you go.”
“Now you just sound like Gracie. Everybody takes his side.”
“Think about it. The two of you have been fighting your attraction to each other ever since the day you met. If Eric hadn’t have been in the picture, you would have gotten together already. But Eric was there, and your relationship with him had to be respected. You did as best as you could, considering the circumstances.”
“I kind of used both of them.”
“And Eric didn’t use you?”
“Fine. We were both dysfunctional. We fed off of each other. We were codependent, whatever you want to call it. We should have ended things years ago, but we didn’t. Instead I ran to the first person who expressed any interest in me and got so emotionally involved with him that I started to think there was more there than friendship. I fell for the stereotypical reformed bad boy because I thought it was my duty to fix him. I think Eric said it best when he told me I wasn’t God.”
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