by L. A. Witt
Leigh stood up and stretched. “What do you guys say we go find an early dinner?”
“I am so down with that idea.” Anna twisted gingerly, and her back popped loud enough to turn a few heads.
Leigh shuddered. “Oh my God.”
“What?” Anna laughed. “Now it’s not as stiff.”
“That can’t be normal.” Leigh grimaced as she pulled on her jacket.
“Probably not.” Anna put her own jacket over her arm and turned to me. “You ready?”
“For food? You bet.”
She laughed. “Well, it’s on me today since you had to get up at the crack of dawn for us.”
“I’m not going to argue with free food.”
“Of course you’re not.”
We filed off the bus and started toward the car.
We were halfway there before I stopped in my tracks and realized I had no idea how to find Scott again. I should’ve gotten his number. Or suggested friending him on Facebook. Or . . . something. There was no way in hell I’d see him again unless I made some kind of move now.
I turned around and quickly found him—just in time to see him pull out of the parking lot.
And with that, he was gone.
“Jeremy?” Leigh had stopped and was eyeing me. So was Anna.
“Sorry.” I patted my pockets, then pulled out my phone. “Thought I left this on the bus. Disaster averted.”
We kept walking, and I resisted the urge to look back toward the empty driveway where Scott’s car had exited. Talk about a missed opportunity.
Well, now I had something new to kick myself over.
Three days after the trip to the Skagit River, I couldn’t get Scott out of my mind.
Which was stupid. We’d met briefly, interacting in short looks and conversations for less than a day. He was hot, but he was gone, and I needed to focus, damn it.
It wasn’t even my job that needed my attention this time. It was my weekly scheduled Skype chat with my ex-wife and kids.
With my stomach fluttering and my heart going ninety miles an hour, I initiated the call. As it connected, I gulped.
And then, there she was.
“Hey, Jeremy.” Jackie smiled. “How are you doing?”
“I’m all right.”
Her smile fell. “Listen, it’s, um, probably just me and Zach again today.”
My heart sank. Even though I wasn’t surprised, it hurt. Always did. “Is Haley still . . .?”
“Yep.”
I exhaled. “Will she even talk to me?”
Jackie glanced off camera, lips taut. “She’d rather not, to be honest.”
I bit back a curse. That old saying that time healed all wounds was seriously bullshit—it had been ever since Jackie and I had finally divorced—and my relationship with my daughter was getting worse by the day. I had hoped the physical distance would give us all some space, that moving to Bluewater Bay would create breathing room so we could all figure out where to go from here, but that had backfired spectacularly.
I folded my hands in front of my keyboard. “I assume she’s still not very enthusiastic about visiting this summer?”
Jackie winced. “Not really.”
I sighed.
“I don’t know what to tell you.” She shrugged apologetically. “If we make her go, she’s going to be miserable the entire time, and so will you.”
“Yeah, I know.” I rubbed my forehead. “I’d, um . . . I would like to be there when she graduates. But . . . not if she doesn’t want me there.”
“I’ll keep talking to her. She hasn’t out and said she doesn’t want you to come to her graduation, but she’s not very enthusiastic about you being there, either.”
“I’d rather have a definite yes from her. I don’t want to be there if it’s going to ruin things for her.”
“I know. But I can’t make any promises.” Her tone sounded flat, bordering on indifferent, but I knew her. She did care about Haley and me mending our relationship, and she knew how important it was to me to be able to see my daughter graduate, but this process was wearing her down. She was exhausted. So was I. God knew how much of a toll it was taking on Haley. Zach tried to stay out of it as much as possible—he had his resentment toward me too, but had more or less gone with the flow. He seemed to have accepted that Jackie and I were over, but he clammed up and glared at me when someone broached the topic of why we’d split up.
“Well, is Zach there, at least?”
“Yeah, he’s here.” She glanced off camera and beckoned. To me, she said, “He’s got practice tonight, so we can’t do this too long. If you want to pick a different night until basketball is over, we can do that.”
“We’ll play it by ear.”
“All right. Here’s Zach.”
They shifted around, the webcam jerking and turning before Zach settled onto the couch and steadied the computer in his lap. He managed a tight smile. “Hey, Dad.”
“Hey.” My smile was a bit more genuine, and I hoped it looked that way. “So, uh. How are you doing?”
He shrugged the way only teenagers could shrug—with extra emphasis to show how indifferent he was. “Okay.”
“How’s school?”
“Boring.”
So it was going to be one of those conversations again. One word answers.
I tapped my fingers on the side of my laptop, out of his sight and gently so he didn’t notice. “You still want to learn to drive this summer?”
Well, that brought him to life. He perked up a little and nodded. “Yeah.”
“Okay.” I smiled. “There’s a book you have to study so you can take the test for a learner’s permit in Washington. How about if I mail you a copy, and we’ll take care of that as soon as you get here?”
“Sure. I can do that.”
“All right. And you’ll read it, right? Study it?”
“Yeah, I will.” He rolled his eyes, but chuckled. “How hard can it be, anyway?”
“It’s not that bad, but there are some trick questions. Just read it.”
“Okay, okay.”
We talked for a few more minutes. Then he had to go get dressed for basketball practice, so he gave the computer back to his mother.
“Seems like he was a little more talkative today,” she said.
“Yeah.” I nodded. “It’s an improvement. I’ll take it.”
“Well”—she glanced at her watch—“we have to go soon. He has to be at practice in an hour. Same time next week?”
“Yeah. Sounds good.” I chewed my lip. “Hopefully with Haley?”
“Hopefully. I’ll do the best I can.”
“I know. I appreciate it.”
She glanced offscreen. “Your shoes are in the laundry room,” she said, presumably to Zach. “Get dressed. We’re going in fifteen minutes.” Then she faced me again. “Before I go, are you . . .” She hesitated. “Are you doing okay?”
“I’m all right.”
She inclined her head. “Are you?”
I didn’t know why I tried. She’d known me my entire adult life. No one on the planet could read me better than Jackie.
I sighed. “It’s just been rough. The job is fine, the town is fine, and I’m—” Doing fine on my own? Yeah. Sure. Except that part about sleeping alone. I muffled a cough. “I’ll be okay. I’ll be better once we sort things out with the kids, but I’m getting there.”
She studied me for a moment, then managed a slight smile. “Well, that sounds better than a few months ago. Just take care of yourself, will you?”
I nodded. “I will. Promise.”
We wrapped up the session, and when the screen went dark I put my laptop aside and leaned forward so I could rub some of the tension out of the back of my neck.
Maybe I needed to just back off and let Haley come to me. Which sounded good on paper, but the reason she hated me in the first place was that, in her eyes, I had abandoned the family. Divorcing her mother had been the beginning. Moving from California to Bluewate
r Bay had been insult to injury. Giving up completely would only make things worse. Making the effort to fix it was only making things worse.
Fuck. What was I supposed to do?
I didn’t sleep for shit that night. The cycle was relentless—my mind would drift to Scott, and I’d kick myself for not trying to make a connection. Then I’d remember how much my daughter resented my sexuality. How much she resented me. And I’d feel alone again. And wish I had someone there with me. And kick myself for not making the effort to connect with Scott. At least then I might’ve had a shot at not sleeping alone for the first time in too long. Assuming he’d even been interested.
Of course he was, I told myself. That’s why he got your number before we got off the bus. Oh. Wait.
Goddamn it.
As the sun came up, I scrubbed a hand over my face and grumbled a string of profanity into my empty apartment. It was mostly my nonexistent relationship with my daughter that kept me up, but the missed opportunity grated on me just like it had the last few nights. There wasn’t any winning in that situation. If I had brought Scott home, and we had slept together, I’d have spent the night feeling guilty for that too.
Well. Regardless of why I hadn’t slept, the fact was I hadn’t. And now it was time to get my ass over to Anna’s. An hour early too—she had a full calendar for the next couple of weeks, so she and Leigh had their counseling sessions in the mornings for a while.
I showered, dressed, sucked down some coffee, put on my shoulder and ankle holsters, and drove to her place. I lived in town while Anna lived in one of the gated communities that had sprung up outside the city limits since the arrival of Wolf’s Landing. Though the production company required her to have personal security after a couple of close calls with stalkers, she didn’t like having someone in her shadow 24/7. Being followed everywhere was understandably uncomfortable for someone who was being stalked, even if my constant presence was meant to protect her. That, and two of the stalkers had been arrested and the third at least appeared to have lost interest, so having me around every second of the day didn’t seem quite as necessary anymore.
So, her house had been fitted with all manner of state-of-the-art security—everything short of a herd of rabid Rottweilers, really—and the production company had relented. Now I only had to be with her when she left the property.
I was grateful for that. I had to listen to enough of her battles with her live-in girlfriend, and they didn’t need to listen to those nights when I actually did work up the courage to approach a guy.
When I arrived at Anna’s, her everyday car—a nondescript sedan she drove when she didn’t want to take the more conspicuous Ferrari out—was in the driveway, but Leigh’s was gone, so I took her spot. I’d barely started up the walk to the front door when Anna came out.
“Morning,” I said.
She smiled tightly. “Morning.”
Oh boy. Rough night, by the looks of it. Despite her Hollywood-level makeup wizardry, she hadn’t quite masked the exhaustion. Her cheeks were pale, or maybe they just looked that way because of the heavy shadows beneath her eyes. Gaze down, she walked toward my car with her coffee cup in hand and no expression on her face.
I didn’t ask. I’d known her long enough to know when she wasn’t in the mood for conversation. We got into the car, and Anna stared out the window while I drove. She still didn’t say anything. That wasn’t unusual—we talked a lot when it was just the two of us, but she never said much on the way to and from these appointments. And if last night had been a bad one with Leigh, then it was no surprise at all she was extra quiet.
She had my sympathy. Jackie and I had gone to counseling during the death throes of our marriage, and few things had stressed me out more than those appointments. There’d been some talk of getting a counselor to smooth things over between me and the kids, but . . . no. Eighteen months of counseling with their mother had left me with an expensive divorce and an ulcer. As far as I was concerned, it was just an overpriced method of slowly peeling off a bandage.
But it wasn’t my decision to make, so when we arrived at Dr. Vincent’s office, I followed Anna inside without a word.
Leigh was already there. Anna sat beside her in the waiting area, and I sat across from them, facing the door. Another couple sat next to the enormous plant, and no one spoke. It was always uncomfortably quiet in here, just like at the place where Jackie and I had gone for counseling. My skin crawled—the miserable vibe between the two silent couples may have been my imagination, but it sure felt real.
Dr. Vincent stepped out of the back and smiled. “Ladies? You ready?”
Anna and Leigh both rose.
I glanced at the other couple. The man’s eyes widened. The woman scowled.
Yes, people. Lesbians get counseling too.
While Anna and Leigh went back with Dr. Vincent, I buried my nose in my phone. For things like this, I didn’t have to keep Anna in sight. I kept an eye on the waiting area in case anyone shady came wandering in, but Anna had specifically requested privacy for things like doctor’s appointments.
The other couple went back to see their therapist. Another couple came in. No one suspicious coming or going. Same shit, different day.
Toward the end of Anna’s appointment, while I was knee-deep in a silly video game, the door opened.
As I always did when someone entered the room, I looked up.
And damn near dropped my phone.
In a shirt and tie, with no baseball cap and plenty of stubble, Scott stopped dead in his tracks and did a double take. We stared at each other for a second before he recovered. Clearing his throat, he gave me a slight nod of acknowledgment, then quickly turned to the couple sitting on the other side of the waiting room. “Why don’t you two come on back?”
He started to follow them but hesitated, glancing over his shoulder at me. To the couple, he said, “Go ahead and get situated. I’ll be right there.”
They continued down the hall. With his back to me, Scott pulled a card off the business card display and wrote something on it.
Then he turned to me and held out the card. “I meant to give you this the other day.”
I took it. “Oh. Uh—”
“Good to see you again.” He flashed a perfectly professional smile before he disappeared into the back with his patients, leaving me in the empty waiting room with his business card in my hand.
I stared at the door like an idiot. Then I looked at the card.
Scott Fletcher – Marriage & Family Counselor.
Well, that explained why he’d seemed familiar on the eagle tour. I’d seen him on his way in or out of the office several times before, and he’d caught my eye, but not like he had on the bus the other day.
Goddamn it. So he was a snake-oil salesman too? He hadn’t seemed like the type.
And he’d written something on the card, hadn’t he?
I turned it over, and sure enough, he’d scrawled Last appt is over at 6. Below that, a phone number.
I swallowed. Holy . . .
I stared at the closed door. The card. The door again. Was he . . . was he serious?
Holy shit.
My mouth went dry. I swallowed hard, imagining every possible way tonight could play out. If not for the card in my hand, I would’ve been sure I’d imagined the way the last few minutes had played out. Had he really—
The door opened again.
Scott?
But no, it was Anna and Leigh with their counselor on their heels.
“I’ll see you ladies next week,” he said.
“Thanks, Dr. Vincent.” Leigh fished her keys out of her purse. As I stood and followed them, she said to Anna, “Do you want to grab food before you head to work?”
“I can’t.” Anna glanced at her watch again. “I have to be on set in half an hour.”
Leigh pursed her lips but shrugged. “Okay. I’ll see you tonight.”
“See you tonight.”
The women shared a tense hug and a
very short kiss. As soon as they’d separated, they started toward their respective cars without so much as another glance.
While I drove, Anna pressed her elbow against the window and rubbed her forehead. She always seemed exhausted after those appointments. Today, even more so.
I glanced at her. “You all right?”
“Yeah. I’m good. It’s . . .” She gestured sharply. “No, I’m not going to unload this shit on you.”
I shrugged. “Why not? I’ve been through it myself.”
She sighed. “I know. But you’re kind of a captive audience.”
“I’ll let you know if it becomes a problem.”
She watched me for a moment, then leaned back and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I guess I’m just frustrated. It seems like it’s the same shit every fucking week.” Dropping her hand in her lap, she stared out the window. “Leigh needs to cut me some slack over my work schedule. I need to be less controlling and insecure. God, I would kill for a new approach.”
I tapped my thumbs on the wheel, not sure how to tread on this minefield. “Mind if I ask something?”
“I’m guessing it’s ‘Why do you idiots keep doing it?’”
I hesitated. “Well, I wasn’t going to word it quite like that, but yeah.”
“Fuck if I know. I guess . . .” She sighed again, deflating against the seat. “I guess I just don’t know what else to do to save my relationship.” She paused. “And to answer that question, no, I don’t know why we keep trying either.”
The resignation in her voice made my gut clench with sympathy. I’d been there.
“Anyway.” She rolled her shoulders and pushed out a breath. “It’s done for the day. I’ll deal with it tonight.”
I bit my tongue. It wasn’t my place to suggest that if her relationship had come down to something that had to be “dealt with,” perhaps the best thing for her sanity was to let it go and move on. God knew I’d lost a few too many years of my life to hanging on to something that should’ve ended sooner.
But their counselor was probably giving them exercises and role plays and God knew what else. “Homework” as mine had always called it, adding that we were to report back with our results next week. And the week after. And the week after that.
