by Jody Holford
Even as she heard the crunch of the gravel under his tires, as her heart picked up its pace and her stomach twisted, she didn’t move. She should have. She should have spared herself the agony of looking at his face, even in profile. But she missed his face so much. And his arms. The way he laughed, how he smelled and how he was always touching her. In the dark, with only a pale strip of the moon, if she were silent, if she held her breath, he would walk right by her and she could just look at him.
She heard his footsteps, heavy and slow, like the days without him. He stopped and she heard him change directions, coming toward her. Her heart hammered. It was dark. He couldn’t see her. Don’t breathe. Close your eyes. She could feel him in front of her. She could taste him, smell the sweetness of his soap and his aftershave. She squeezed her eyes tighter, trying not to inhale.
“You’re going to pass out again,” he whispered. How could his voice bring her so much relief when it was his words that had caused her such misery? She opened her eyes and a powerful fist squeezed her heart. He sat down on the step in front of her. The squeezing in her chest became nearly unbearable, like the fist had talons.
“I’m sorry doesn’t seem like enough,” he said. She couldn’t talk, so he did. “You are all I’ve ever wanted, and I will spend the rest of my life regretting my own stupidity if I can’t make this right. If I can’t find a way to get you to come back to me. I love you, Lucy. I have loved you every single day for sixteen years. I will love you for the rest of my life, even if you can’t find a way to forgive me for doubting you.”
Before she could absorb his words or anything she felt because of them, he stood and walked to his own house. Once he shut the door, the windows went dark. She knew the feeling, the sudden absence of light. She folded her body and rested her head on her knees, weeping without sound. When she heard footsteps beside her, she sat up, startled.
“Mom?” she said into the darkness. Her mother stood on the porch in her nightgown. She heard the large breath her mother took, like she was preparing to take a deep dive. Then the screen door opened, and her mother placed one foot on the wooden step. Lucy sat up straight, angled toward her mom, and held her breath. Julie hesitated. Lucy could see in the moonlight that she had her eyes closed. Then she opened them and took another step. When she sat beside Lucy, all of the air she’d been holding released like she was resurfacing. Lucy’s tears fell onto her lap and her chin shook. Julie trembled as well.
Lucy reached out her hand to steady her mother’s, but instead, Julie’s arms came around her and pulled Lucy into her side. “Come here,” she said, her voice shaky. “I’m here.”
Julie’s tears mingled with Lucy’s as they kept each other anchored and safe, treading water under the moon, both of them just trying to stay above the surface.
Alex reached for her before he remembered Lucy didn’t share his bed anymore. His phone was vibrating and his head was pounding. Knocking back a few shots of whiskey when he came into the house hours ago had not erased the image of her sitting there in the glow of the moon. His phone buzzed again.
“Whitman,” he answered. He slapped his hand over his eyes to block the sunlight that was streaming through.
“Hey, boss. Cal called. Seems someone not only tagged him, but also set his dumpster on fire. Figured you’d want to head over there,” Mick said. Alex cursed and sat up, then swore again at the pounding in his head.
“I’m on my way. Fire department put it out?”
“They’re doing it now. It’s under control.”
Alex clicked end without saying good-bye. Advil, coffee, car keys. He repeated the three things, almost forgot to include pants and a shirt, and was in his truck within ten minutes of the call. When he pulled up, the fire truck was loading back up. Smoke filled the air as anger filled Alex’s belly. He was going to pin this punk’s ass to the wall. Out of his truck, he clipped his badge onto his belt and met the fire chief halfway.
“Morning, Sheriff. Hell of a way to wake up,” Quinn said. He pulled his helmet off and swiped at his dirt-covered forehead with the sleeve of his even dirtier arm.
“I can think of far better ways,” Alex said, his voice clipped. Quinn, who was about his height, nodded in agreement, his sweat-slicked brown hair sticking to his forehead.
“Fire is out. Looks like the same MO as the other ones. Accelerant-soaked rag. Inspector is on his way in from Minnesota. I think we’re pissing him off with our suddenly frequent needs,” Quinn said, smirking and clapping Alex on the shoulder.
“Yeah, well, he can get in line. I’m pretty pissed myself. Is everyone okay?”
“Yes. Waitress hurt her wrist. She was coming out to toss the garbage into the bin, and when she saw the fire, she ran back in. A customer was coming out, and the door smashed her arm. Medics are looking at her.”
Alex thanked him and went to find Cal and his staff. Danielle was sitting in the back of the ambulance, a female medic wrapping her wrist. The woman, her ponytail so tight it was making Alex’s eyes hurt, glanced at him and nodded.
“You okay, Danielle?” Alex said, squeezing her other shoulder lightly.
“Sprained wrist and trampled pride,” she said, smiling up at him. Her ponytail was looser, strands falling into her eyes. “No need for that. You up to answering some questions?” Alex asked.
“You’re all done here. You need to go to the doctor if it’s still hurting in a week, but a bit of ice, ibuprofen, and rest should do the trick,” the medic told her, moving so Danielle could stand. Alex took her arm, and she smiled at him warmly before thanking the woman for her help.
Cal was answering questions with Elliot, but Alex figured his answers were the same as Danielle’s. No one saw anything. When they’d shown up for the morning shift, the front of the restaurant had been tagged. The fire couldn’t have been set too long before they arrived, which meant that whoever set it had an easy getaway or didn’t live too far away.
“Damn jerks. Now my place is wrecked,” Cal said, spitting into the gravel. Elliot walked over to where the firemen were loading up and heading out.
“It sucks, Cal, but it’s not like you couldn’t use a coat of paint all the way through,” Alex said, unaccountably irritated. He shouldn’t take his frustration out on Cal.
“You have insurance, Cal,” Danielle said, rubbing Cal’s burly arm.
“Yeah, I do. At least no one got badly hurt. You going to be okay?” Cal asked, frowning at Danielle’s wrapped wrist. “Sure. I’m fine.”
“You take whatever time off you need, honey,” Cal told her. Danielle’s face colored, and Alex wondered if there was something between them.
“I can’t afford to take time off. I’m fine,” Danielle said. Alex was about to comment when Cal’s chest puffed out and his cheeks darkened to a ruddy red color.
“You think I’m going to dock you pay? Jesus, woman. Go home.”
Alex watched the exchange, feeling like he was peeking through someone’s window. Danielle looked at her feet, and Cal stared at Danielle. Definitely something going on. Elliot joined them again just as Danielle spoke in an almost-whisper.
“I didn’t bring my car,” she said to Cal. Elliot’s eyebrows raised and waggled at Alex, who cut him off with a stern look. “I’ll take you home, Danielle,” Alex said.
“I don’t want to be any trouble,” she replied. Alex sighed. Elliot grinned. Cal put his hands on his hips and nodded at Alex. “Let’s go,” Alex said. He turned to Elliot. “You got the pictures and the rest of this?”
“Sure thing, Sheriff,” Elliot replied in his laid-back tone while giving a mock salute.
Lucy walked up the corridor of the university. It was about a half-hour drive from her house, but not far from the address Dolores gave her. Things were falling into place. They would spend tomorrow decorating for the gala and getting ready for the auction. Her friends had come through for her, and so had the town. She was more excited than Kate to unveil the new rec center. Kate’s mind was occupied with her la
st final exam and packing for New York. She was trying to downplay her excitement because of the recent chaos, but Lucy was happy she was so thrilled. Everyone else would come around. Char and Luke were planning a Sunday brunch as a send-off.
It smelled like Axe in the hallways, and Lucy half expected the elevators to open and reveal twenty-somethings with disheveled clothing, just like in the commercials. Too much T.V. Her dad’s office was on the second floor. His door was closed, but Lucy could see through the top half of the door that he was alone. He was talking on the phone, so she knocked softly. When his face brightened at the sight of her, it stitched up one of the torn pieces inside of her. He waved her in, and she closed the door quietly behind her.
“Okay…Yes…Take a look at the syllabus online and just email me…You’re welcome.”
Lucy stayed by the door until he hung up. When he did, he came over and embraced her. His hugs were all encompassing. There was no room for doubt inside the circle of her dad’s arms.
“How are you, honey?” he asked, kissing her forehead and pulling her into the room. They sat side by side on his pale blue leather couch. It was a strange focal feature in an otherwise studious office.
“I’m good. I came to pick up some logo wear for the auction. The bookstore agreed to donate hoodies, shirts, and hats.”
“Right. And to see me,” he said. He leaned forward, hung his arms between his legs, and considered her. He didn’t ask anything, but he had that look that demanded, gently, that she tell him. And that he’d wait until she did.
“We broke up.” Getting the words past her throat caused more pain than she’d thought possible. They were just words. Words shouldn’t hurt, but those ones had daggers.
His lips firmed and he nodded. He put his hand over both of hers, which were clasped on her knees. “I know. Do I need to kick his ass?”
Lucy laughed, and the feeling felt foreign to her. She hadn’t had any happiness inside of her for days.
“He thought I was leaving. He assumed I was leaving. Kate is leaving, but he thought it was me,” she said, her words feeling as jumbled as her heart. Her dad sighed heavily but said nothing, which made Lucy babble. “He was the only one who didn’t doubt me. Until it mattered. I’ve never told anyone I love them—other than you guys, and obviously, that’s a little different—but I told him. And I meant it. I mean it. I do love him. I let myself need him, and he didn’t trust me when it really counted. I know he’s sorry. I know that he misunderstood, but he...” Her voice broke, but she didn’t cry. Her dad pulled her into his side and kissed the top of her head.
“He was supposed to be the one who never doubted you, the one who never pushed you away. He was supposed to know that you wouldn’t leave him,” her dad finished. Lucy nodded. She pulled away and rose from the couch to grab a tissue from her dad’s desk.
“It’s like he was just waiting for me to let him down.” She wiped the corner of her eyes before the tears could fall.
“We’ve done that to you as well. We’ve doubted you and teased you about your tendency to roam. But that’s not all that you are. You’re so much more, Lucy. I’m sorry that it took us so long to see that.”
She rested against the edge of his desk and looked at him, grateful for his words. “Thank you.”
He nodded and leaned back comfortably on his blue couch. His perfectly pressed dress pants and button-up shirt looked at odds with the retro style furniture.
“Sometimes, in moments of panic, our worst fears fly out of our mouths before we have a chance to process them in our brains,” he said thoughtfully. “He gave me his house key. I accepted it. How could he think I would leave?”
“Wow. Well. I think I should kick his ass, but we’ll come back to that,” Mark said, his eyebrows pinching together. “The thing is, Lucy, even if you weren’t a traveler, a wandering spirit, anyone who loves with all of their heart secretly fears losing the person they’ve given their heart to. It’s human nature to fear losing what you love the most.”
Lucy thought about that. Alex didn’t even like to travel, but there were moments that she felt so overwhelmed with loving him that she had feared she would mess it up, wreck things between them.
“So now the worst has happened. You’ve lost each other. What now?” Mark asked, coming to his daughter and standing in front of her. “I don’t know.”
“I guess you need to figure it out. And make a choice that you can truly live with.”
Lucy didn’t feel like she had a choice. Her heart had already given itself over to Alex like a traitor.
“How’s Lucy?” Danielle asked as Alex pulled his truck up to the curb outside of her apartment.
“She’s okay. We broke up,” Alex said. The words tasted foul in his mouth. He shut the truck off and came around for Danielle. He took her arm as she got out of the truck.
“I’m sorry. She’s a really good person. So are you. You guys … fit. That’s too bad.”
They walked up the narrow path to the three-story building, and Alex thought that was such a simplistic way of summing it up. “It sucks. I hurt her and there’s no excuse for that.”
Danielle struggled with keeping her purse open and digging in it without jarring her wrist. Alex took the purse and held it open for her, not even daring to navigate its depths.
“Lucy makes you want to be a better person,” Danielle said softly, pulling her keys up and out. Alex locked eyes with Danielle’s; it was the perfect way to describe Lucy.
“She’s the best person I know. When she needed me to believe that, I doubted her,” Alex said, unable to cover the regret in his voice. Danielle put the key in the lock, but Alex turned it for her. She paused once he had opened the door.
“She forgave me when she didn’t have to … because I asked,” she said, encouragingly. Lucy didn’t talk about the tension between her and Danielle, so Alex had never pushed.
“What happened?” he asked now. Her lips firmed and her eyelids lowered. She brought her gaze back up to his before she spoke. “I slept with her prom date,” Danielle told him, contrition in every word. “On the day of prom.”
Alex sucked in a breath and Danielle’s cheeks turned red. “How did she find out?”
Her blush spread, making her whole face pink and she cast her eyes down.
“He and I lived a few doors down from each other, and he’d asked if I could come in and show him how to tie a tie. Lucy stopped by. He thought she’d just let it go. No big deal. That’s what he said to both of us.”
All these years, all the rumors—which had been fast and furious immediately after graduation—and Lucy had never defended herself. She had never spoken badly of Danielle, and she had let others think what they wanted. Even if what they wanted to think was that Lucy was just unreliable, the Aarons sister that couldn’t even sit still long enough to make it to prom. She had taken off shortly after.
Alex thought of how humiliated she must have been. But she hadn’t let it define her. Because Lucy was so much more than what people saw in a passing glance. As he had told her, she was everything. Alex realized he was still gripping the door, holding it open for Danielle when she stepped into the small but clean lobby of her building.
“Thanks for the ride, Sheriff.”
“No problem. Get some rest.”
He turned to go, but she called his name, so he turned back. “Don’t wait as long as I did to tell her how sorry you are.”
With a shy smile, she let the door close. For the first time in too many days, he found the energy to smile back.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Lucy parked her car in the driveway of Dolores’s exceptionally bright home. It was a nice street in a quiet neighborhood with slightly outdated homes. She could probably afford a home in this area. It didn’t have the same quaint charm as her parents’, but it also didn’t have Alex across the yard. She knocked on the front door, unexpectedly charmed by the cheerfulness of her window planters. She couldn’t name any of the flowers, but they
made her smile.
“Oh, you made it! Come on in. Andrew isn’t home. He’s out with some friends, which is just great. He doesn’t get out enough. Anyway, between running errands and working, I haven’t even had a chance to talk to him, but I just know he’s going to be so excited that one of his paintings is going to be part of something so special,” Dolores said in one long-winded breath.
Much like Dolores, the home was colorful. It was less cluttered than Lucy would have expected, but every color imaginable existed between the front door and what she could see of the living room. There were two steps down into the sitting area where a red velvet couch sat across from a white leather one. They looked like the angel and devil version of couches. Lucy wondered if Dolores chose where to sit based on her mood. On the walls, there were photographs of Dolores and her son. He was a good-looking kid despite the sullen frown that graced most of the pictures. Dolores’s smile in each photo made up for his obvious lack of enthusiasm.
“I just have to grab a couple from his room, okay?” Dolores said excitedly.
“Sure,” Lucy replied, hoping that the art would sell. Dolores would be so disappointed if they didn’t. Lucy took the steps down into the sunken living room and moved toward the fireplace, drawn to the abstract painting that hung above it. The colors were beautiful, dark swirling with light. If this was the quality of Andrew’s work, there was a good chance that his art would bring in some money. Lucy’s eyes were caught in the movement of the lines, the way they merged together, not quite circles, not quite meeting in the middle before they burst away from each other in new colors. She tilted her head a bit, stepped closer, and when the lines in one corner merged into a heart-like shape with a curved tail, she sucked in a breath.
“Told you he was talented,” Dolores bragged, her heels click-clacking over her laminate floors. Lucy turned, wide-eyed. Dolores had two small canvases. She placed them on the couch so Lucy could see both. One was abstract like the one over the fireplace, but now that Lucy knew what she was looking for, she spotted the heart symbol immediately. It was harder to spot in the second print of a woman’s back, the delicate curves of her hair flowing over her shoulders. A blanket was pooled at her hips. In the cascading movement of the blanket, the symbol, was nestled quietly. Lucy bit her lip, struck by the beauty of the paintings and the reality of them. She needed to talk to Alex. Breathe. Stay calm.
