by Lindy Zart
Her eyes drifted closed not long after the last word was read, the driving question of why it was Harrison’s favorite book prominent in her mind.
As soon as dawn lightened the sky, she was up and out the door. She didn’t say goodbye. She didn’t let her departure be known in any way. Beth wanted to look back at the house before getting into the warmed up Blazer, and because of that, she wouldn’t let herself. The roads were clear, and the open skies and fresh air righted her thoughts once more. She wasn’t attracted to Harrison. It would be a horrible mistake to think she was.
It was simply because they’d been together for so many hours yesterday, just the two of them, and the circumstances brought on familiarity that wasn’t really there. Confused her. Put hunger in his eyes and in her bones. Beth groaned, shaking her head in denial of what her body told her was true. When she went back that afternoon, everything would make sense again.
The undetectable wall would be back in place.
“Yes. Yes, it will.”
Beth made a stop at the grocery store on her way home, stocking up on essentials that were running low. Ozzy’s truck appeared outside her house as she was removing the grocery bags from the back of the Blazer, the loud and obnoxious rumble of it announcing his arrival. She softly cursed, not surprised by his appearance but aggravated just the same. His brother’s wife worked at Chester’s Grocer, and it made sense that she would inform Ozzy of Beth’s stop at the store so early in the morning.
Anything out of the ordinary was suspect, and Beth grocery shopping at an hour she was normally sleeping qualified. There were spies everywhere, and if she ever truly wanted to be free from Ozzy, Beth knew she would have to move out of town. But her parents were here; everything that made her who she was, was here. She wasn’t ready for that farewell.
She set down the bags and waited for him to approach.
“You lied,” were the first words he said to her.
His square jaw was tight and his golden eyes glittered with anger. He wore jeans and his jean jacket with a blue hooded flannel shirt beneath it. His brown hair swirled around his head like he’d jumped out of bed and raced to her house without brushing it—and he probably had.
“You weren’t home with a bad back. I was worried about you and stopped by after filling in for you at The Lucky Coin. The Blazer was gone. You weren’t home. Where were you, really?” The freezing air singed his skin, turning it pink.
“How do you know the Blazer was gone?” Her lips were stiff, frozen with cold and Ozzy’s anger.
“The side door to the garage was unlocked.” Ozzy shifted his eyes to the left, the motion announcing a possible lie.
Beth stared at Ozzy, a wave of dread sweeping over her. She always made sure every door was locked. Always. “You were in my house?”
“No,” he denied, still not looking at her.
The landlord was a family friend of the Pecks’, and if Ozzy showed up at his house with concern over Beth’s welfare, would he give him a key? Her stomach spun with sickness. Beth didn’t want to believe it. She was beginning to feel like she wasn’t safe from Ozzy anywhere. She was beginning to feel like she needed to be leery of him. Did he still have the key? Had he made a copy? What had he done inside her house while she was gone?
She took a step back, the sky swirling overhead and shifting to the side. Beth shook her head and put a steadying hand against the Blazer. “Please tell me you didn’t break into my house,” she whispered.
“I didn’t. I went into the garage, saw your car was gone, and I left.” Ozzy finally looked at her, a slash of eyes that showed no warmth. “But if I had, it would have been justified. I thought there was something wrong. I thought you were hurt.”
Anger boiled through her, heated her skin from the inside out. All of Ozzy’s actions were excusable, no matter if they were right or wrong. He was without blame, always.
“It’s none of your business where I was or what I was doing.”
“It is my business!” Ozzy swallowed and looked around to see if they had an audience. In a quieter voice, he continued. “It is my business when you ask me to work for you, and then lie about why you aren’t going to be able to work. Where were you? Do you have a new boyfriend, is that it?”
Beth’s cold skin blazed with fury and her mouth twisted with it. “I did hurt my back, and I couldn’t work. I didn’t lie about either of those things.”
“Is there someone else, Beth? Are you—are you in love with someone else?” Ozzy demanded like she hadn’t spoken, his voice vibrating with wrath, and something else.
An ache she recognized from her own heart, and voice, once upon a time. It was the startling moment when it became clear that the one she loved could be with someone else. It was disbelief and insanity and denial, all neatly packed together, all ready to unravel the person at the slightest provocation.
Ozzy realized that she could move on. She could love another. Her heart was not only to be his. He moved on, but he never thought she would. And he thought he could come back, every time. Because she’d let him, but not anymore. Beth deserved more than what he could give her. She deserved better.
“It doesn’t matter,” she told him, her eyes hot with disenchantment. “It’s over between us. You need to admit that to yourself. And you have to stop showing up whenever you feel like it, and tell your family to quit keeping tabs on me. I don’t appreciate it.”
“You don’t care about me at all, do you?” His expression was wounded.
Beth took a deep breath, trying to calm her speeding pulse. Arguing with him did nothing but give him power. She was done letting him have power over her. Beth was taking it back. Ozzy was a manipulator, and he didn’t even realize it. It took Beth years to see it. A manipulator, and a liar—two things that should be avoided in life, as they made people doubt their instincts. Instincts were always right.
“It isn’t that, and you know it.”
“Is there even really a job?” The anger faded to sorrow, and looking into his devastated eyes was like looking into her own a year in the past.
“Yes, there is a job,” she hissed. Beth reached for the groceries. “This is my life, and it is separate from yours. Accept it. I have to get these inside. Go home, Ozzy.”
Ozzy grabbed the remaining bags and hefted them into his arms. He looked defiantly back when she opened her mouth to tell him she didn’t need help. Not wanting to keep arguing, but also knowing it was wrong to give in, Beth shook her head and walked through the plowed driveway. Her face reddened at the knowledge that Ozzy must have cleared the snow for her. Guilt tightened her throat.
She tried the doorknob. The door was unlocked, and that gave her pause. Was Ozzy telling the truth? Had she been so upset over learning what she had about Harrison that she’d forgotten to lock the doors on her way out? It was possible. She took a quick breath and entered the house through the garage, kicking off her boots before stepping inside.
The warmth was appreciated, and as Beth took in her living quarters, she felt like she was home. She couldn’t recall feeling that way before. The house was alien for so long, but now it was hers. Beth had missed sleeping in it last night. She’d been dependent on Ozzy for so long that it had taken her a while to realize she liked her freedom. The only thing wrong with the house was her ex-boyfriend’s presence. She would talk to her landlord about Ozzy and make sure her privacy hadn’t been violated, a task she wouldn’t enjoy, but one that was necessary.
Ozzy’s eyes were weights on her back as he followed her to the kitchen, and she wondered if that was how Harrison had felt when she’d stared at him as they walked. Dissected. She felt dirty in her worn clothes, like all of the activities of yesterday were visible in the wrinkles of the fabric and the unkemptness of her appearance. Beth’s most secret thoughts and feelings were shouting from her skin, and Ozzy was observing them all.
“You missed it—there was a fight at the bar last night.” Ozzy set down the bags on the counter and looked around the room
. His moods switched without warning, the wrath absent and friendliness in its place. Beth never understood how he could do that. When she was mad, she stayed mad for a while.
Beth started putting away the food, glancing at Ozzy as she worked. She wanted him to go, and the best way to get that to happen was to be agreeable. “Who?”
He drummed his fingers on the countertop. “Denny Imhoff and Jason Hilton. They were playing cards and Denny accused Jason of cheating.”
“Was he?”
Ozzy grinned. “Well, yeah, but he always does. Denny just decided to take offense to it last night.”
“I’m sure drinking was involved.”
“Of course.” Ozzy handed the half-gallon of milk to Beth.
“Thanks.” She put away the last of the groceries. At his raised eyebrows, she added, “For helping carry in the groceries. And plowing the driveway. Did you use your brother’s plow truck?”
“Yeah. And it’s no big deal. I didn’t want you shoveling with your hurt back.”
The allegation was covered in silk, but she caught it, and she resented it. Neither spoke as their gazes locked in place. Ozzy’s eyes were hooded and dark.
Her jacket vibrated and Beth pulled out the cell phone, breaking the stare. She didn’t recognize the number associated with the text message, but she knew who it was from. Harrison. He said she didn’t need to come over today.
A frown tugged at her mouth. Beth couldn’t remember if she’d given him her number, not that it mattered. He had it. Her brain was riddled with holes lately, making the simplest things hard to remember. Why didn’t he want her to come over? Disappointment, shocking in its amount, engulfed her body. Her hand dropped to her side.
“What’s wrong?”
Beth looked at Ozzy, saw the questions and suspicions in his eyes. “Nothing. I don’t have to go to work today. It’s an unexpected free day, that’s all.”
His gaze dropped to the phone. “Your boss sends you text messages? Isn’t that a little unorthodox?”
“They don’t like talking on the phone,” she quickly told him.
“I guess anyone who doesn’t want people to know who they are must be strange.” Ozzy talked in an agreeable tone, but Beth knew it was a ruse. A calculated gleam darkened his eyes to burnished gold. He was digging for information.
Refusing to comment, Beth gathered the empty plastic bags and shoved them under the sink, her back protesting the motion. Another thing she couldn’t recall was how much she’d told Ozzy about her job or boss, and she wasn’t going to say more and indirectly give away something of Harrison.
“I have stuff to do,” she said as she straightened, giving him a pointed look.
Ozzy looked at his boots and nodded. “Right. Me too. I guess I should get going.”
He strode to her, pulling her into his arms before she could move out of reach. Beth remained stiff, not allowing herself to sink into his embrace and their history. Ozzy smelled like snow and a warped love. Once she was happy with him, once he had her heart. Once. It was dangerous to think of moments that no longer were.
“Let me go,” she commanded quietly, careful not to move.
Ozzy kissed her forehead and caressed her hair, and her skin crawled at the wrongness of it. “I can’t. I can’t not have you in my life in some way, Beth.”
“Ozzy, please.”
He pulled away, pain adding grooves to his face, making it seem older and harder. “You’ve been part of my life since I was a kid. You’re part of me.”
“It’ll get easier,” she told him, trying to believe the words. Beth wanted him to forget about her, about what they used to have. Neither of them would truly be free until he did.
“It’s been months. It hasn’t gotten easier.”
“But you’re dating. I know you’ve had girlfriends. It’s hypocritical of you to act hurt at the thought of me being with someone else when you’re already there.” Beth stepped away, putting her back to him as she crossed the room.
She looked into the living room, her eyes landing on the laptop where it rested on the coffee table. Already she craved a connection to Harrison, even if it was through a computer. Words. She needed to write about him. Anticipation shot her through with energy, and Beth felt the hum in her veins. She wanted to forget all the ways her heart had bled for Ozzy, and she could do that with the magnetism of Harrison’s untold story.
Beth looked at Ozzy. “You’ve been with other women. Don’t pretend you haven’t.”
His eyes shifted down and away, the tightness of his jaw admitting he had. “It doesn’t change how I feel about you.”
“But it changed how I feel about you,” she told him, crossing her arms. “Too much has happened. We can’t go back. That’s wrong. It’s wrong to try to live in the past, Ozzy.”
“Don’t say that,” he pleaded, crossing the room to her. “Don’t designate me to a part of your past, Beth. Please.”
She looked to the right of him, her gaze moving to him as she spoke. “If you need a night off from the bar sometime, let me know and I’ll cover it if I can. To make up for you filling in for me.”
His mouth contorted. “I don’t want your gratitude.”
Beth didn’t say anything.
Veils dropped over his eyes, and coldness descended. It chilled her blood, looking into Ozzy’s eyes and seeing nothing. A stranger looked back at her, and trepidation unfurled in her chest. She’d seen him angry before, but only once, had she seen him furious. Beth had hoped to never see that side of him again. Rejection did not sit well with Ozzy.
“It didn’t have to be this way.” Although his words had no inflection and seemed calmly spoken, Beth took them as they were meant to be—a warning.
Ozzy left through the front door, and as soon as the door closed, she was there to lock it. Beth took steadying breaths, her hands trembling as she pressed them to her stomach. She was overreacting. Nothing bad was going to happen. Ozzy was hurt, but he’d get over it. Eventually, he’d become serious about someone else, and Beth would no longer hold any interest for him.
She worried about the time until then, though, a sense of foreboding beating along with her heart.
SIX
AFTER STARING AT the computer screen for over an hour and producing a total of thirteen words, Beth decided it was time for a change of scenery. She had plenty of notes and thoughts, but she wasn’t sure how to put them all together. The story wasn’t close to being ready to be written, not even the first page. Beth needed more of Harrison, and that wasn’t happening today. Part of her worried that he was sick and that that was why he’d told her not to come, but Beth told herself it wasn’t any of her concern.
Telling herself that didn’t make her worry any less. How could she care about him so quickly, so completely?
“Feelings cannot be decided by time,” she told herself with a single nod, and then raced for pen and paper to jot it down before she forgot it. Somewhere, sometime, those words would be needed.
Bundling up in layers of clothes and stuffing herself into her winter outerwear, Beth left the warmth of her home to trek through the snow and cold. She felt disoriented from switching from Harrison’s reality to her own. Hers seemed trivial in comparison. What did she have to worry about? Bills and an obsessed ex-boyfriend.
Darkness hovered around Harrison, murky and impenetrable.
Beth looked up at the fiery sun, wanting to break through Harrison’s darkness. Like the sun. She smiled and took a right at the end of her driveway, heading toward her parents’ home. Harrison would resent her trying. He would tell her that wasn’t why he’d hired her. Beth shrugged to herself. She was beginning to wonder why he’d hired her at all. His reasoning didn’t strike her as being entirely truthful. Her brain was full of unanswered questions, and it weighed on her.
She quickened her pace as she passed Ozzy’s brother’s house, knowing someone inside probably had their eyes on the window and were watching her. Beth contemplated flipping them off, but refrai
ned. She swore Ozzy went there as often as he did with the hopes of catching her in one of her many walks. Too many coincidental interactions with her ex made Beth think they were premeditated.
Her steps lightened as she turned down another street and the house disappeared from view. Harrison’s intense eyes flashed through her head, and Beth stumbled as her pulse went into hiatus. The way he’d looked at her last night, the words he’d spoken. The heat, the tension. It made her stomach swirl and her hands shake. Harrison might be surrounded by obscurity, but there was passion in him as well. She was crazy to let herself think of him in any capacity other than as her employer.
Beth closed her eyes and took a calming breath before focusing on the houses around her. A lot of them were small to medium in size, some rundown and in need of repair, but there were a few that boasted of their owner’s wealth. Splashes of color peeked out from beneath white, and as she watched, a chunk of snow slid off a roof to crash to the ground below. It moved like a frozen wave and sounded like thunder.
Houses were odd. People built them, lived in them for a while, and then they sold them. Another family moved in, moved out. Houses were recycled. Redecorated. Remodeled. Made into homes and then abandoned for another. It always struck her as strange that a home of one family could turn into a home for another. Their lives were imprinted in the walls, layers and layers of hopes and dreams and fears. Loss and love.
It was interesting how barren the town seemed in the winter, especially on the colder days. The houses appeared deserted, as did the cars parked in driveways and along the streets. People didn’t go outside unless it was necessary—except for Beth, who was asking to get sick. The heat of the sun helped to keep her somewhat unfrozen, but as she finished the two-mile walk, Beth’s cheeks and ears ached.
The Lambert house was white with black shutters and shingles. In the warmer months, yellow and red flowers bloomed in rock-edged beds while more were set out in pots. Beth had grown up helping her mom with her flowers and gardens in the spring and summer, a task she used to grumble about, but one she appreciated more as she got older. Being kept busy was a good thing, and having tasks and chores taught values not otherwise known. Of course, being responsible and practical never could dampen Beth’s imagination.
