Forgiving Patience

by Jennifer Simpkins

  “I will not be having an affair with any man. I’m not interested. Looks like I’m yours until the minute you say ‘I do’.”

  Em’s expression turned serious for the first time since Anna was dragged into the house. “Anna, you do whatever you want, and I’m always here for you. Jake did you wrong after so many others had before him. You look good now: strong, healthy, and a little happier. You have to hear me when I say this—you are not your mother. You will never be her. Stop comparing your life with hers. You need to start living a life that is not shadowed by her mistakes.”

  Chapter Five

  The sun had not yet set. It was that time in between day and night. The night was her favorite time, which didn’t make sense to her, but the darkness was somewhat comforting. Sleep would not come for several more hours, so, after leaving Em’s house, Anna decided to go to a place that had always allowed her to think and pass time—the walking track.

  It was isolated from the rest of the town, and besides the one couple walking, it remained lonely. To her mind, it was perfect. She’d run and walked many miles around this track as a teenager, and being back here brought back the memories of her youth. She didn’t realize that she’d missed the feeling of normalcy the track brought to her. She and Em had gone there several times a week to gossip about the latest boy her picky best friend was dating and make plans for the upcoming weekend. Anna mostly listened to Em’s comparisons between J.J. Thompson and Cal Michael’s kissing abilities. She didn’t have much to offer to the conversation, but Em was content with doing most of the talking.

  She didn’t have a place like this in Linden. While she did take late night walks around her apartment complex—between the barking dogs and comings and goings of other tenants, it was impossible to savor the quiet. But Linden was safe and didn’t hold the past that still haunted and held power over her life. Control that she was still fighting to get back after all these years.

  The abuse she’d endured as a child remained with her every day…reminding her that having a voice and control was everything.

  Even though it was almost eight at night, the humidity in the air made it feel like it was still way above ninety degrees outside. Summer brought predictable afternoon storms and she could see and hear the enormous thunderclouds that threatened in the distance. As a child she had required her mother’s comfort when the white clouds started their rumbling—now she enjoyed the sounds of God moving furniture. She couldn’t explain the turnaround. Maybe it was because she’d grown past that part of being that scared girl, maybe it was because she recognized it as something she couldn’t control, or maybe she really still thought God was moving his furniture—all she knew was that the sounds let her know she was alive.

  The beat of The Mighty Mighty Bosstones set the pace, forcing her short legs to keep up with the ska band’s beat. Her breathing was becoming intense. She knew she was out of shape, but damn, she couldn’t even walk a lap without feeling her heart beat wildly in her chest. She didn’t give up. She slowed her pace just a tad as the music in her iPod changed. She could feel the sweat running off her back, smell the rain that was bound to come, and see the sun start to set. If she wanted to get a few miles in, she needed to start jogging. If she remembered right, one mile was two laps. She had done one mile and had every intention of accomplishing two. Her legs were heavy, but the faster she could bring them to move, the better she felt.

  The elderly couple holding hands was up ahead, venturing off the track and probably leaving to beat out the storm that was brewing. The sight of them from behind looked reassuring, indicating that sometimes love works out and people do stay together for the long haul. She instantly thought of Georgia and her bright outlook on life and love. Those were good thoughts to have since she was a bridesmaid for her best friend’s wedding. She needed to have zero negative thinking when she was helping plan a life-changing event. It didn’t take her long to pass the couple. She gave a short wave and continued down the track.

  She was quickly losing daylight, and just like eleven years ago, only the light poles that lined one side of the track worked. Anna knew she was the only one left on the track, which meant she was all alone in the dark. The thought should’ve frightened her just a bit, but instead, it just made her feel alone, and that was something she didn’t mind being.

  Every part of the track was vivid in her mind—every dip, incline—and the darkest spot that made her pick up speed. That part of the track hugged some woods, and on stormy nights when the wind whipped through the trees, it could cause sounds that made one jump and curse someone for not fixing the broken lights. Anna had intentionally left her music blaring to block out the rustling of leaves. She picked up what speed she could muster. Her legs and chest could feel the strain she was putting on them. That’s when something grabbed her from behind.

  A strong arm reached around her waist, bringing her to an abrupt halt, throwing her iPod to the pavement, and ripping the earphones from her thudding ears. A scream settled in her throat, too scared to even be released.

  Oh God, what’s happening? Anna’s body jerked in every direction possible. Sucking in whatever air was available, she prepared herself to fight. Her right leg found balance and kicked back until it came in contact with her assailant’s body. That broke his grasp long enough for her to slip out of his muscular grip. As his callused hands scratched across her mid-section, a chill ran through her and caused a tear to fall down her already damp cheek. She knew he was actually a man, but the trace of his hand made the thought seem more real. More tears fell from her frightened eyes, blurring her vision. The attacker slowed, but only for a second. She started running, her legs feeling weak. But she didn’t have far to go. The exit was in her sight, and she just needed to make it…she had to. Her pulse was beating in time with the movements of her legs, or at least that’s what it felt like. She wanted to scream, but nobody was around to hear her cries. And she needed to save what air she had for whatever happened next.

  The thudding of shoes meeting pavement coming from behind her was moving closer. She refused to doubt herself, and she was not going to be a victim. That outcome was unacceptable. She could hear hollering, or maybe it was the sound of her blood pounding in her ears. She took the chance to glance back and stopped dead in her tracks.

  She knew the man. He stopped running when she turned. He was bent over and obviously in some kind of pain, but trying not to show his weakness. Strands of his dark brown hair were wet from sweat. When she had secretly watched a few of his games, watching him sweat in the scorching heat, seeing him lunging after a grounder was her favorite part. Men in those types of pants should be considered illegal.

  Tennis shoes, running shorts, and a faded gray T-shirt clung to a well formed chest that would be considered a dream to any woman alive.

  She wanted to scream at him, but the look in his eyes had her holding her breath. Instead, she swallowed the words attempting to flow from her mouth. He looked dangerous, but not in a run for your life kind of way. A pointed stare sent a chill up her spine, causing her to tremble. Her feet felt bolted to the asphalt, forcing her to face the man she’d thought was attacking her.

  He walked with the slight limp she’d expected to see the first day she saw him. Oh God. She’d kicked him and now he was hurting. She wanted to force her legs to move and rush to him, make him sit and rest, or insist he go to the hospital to get an X-ray. The injury to his knee had cost him so much. The anger, her fright, and the hundred other emotions running through her veins were gone, because now she was only concerned about Jake.

  She let him make his way to her. She knew he would only resent her for recognizing his weakness and rushing to his side. Anna respected the fact that he had pride and didn’t want to show any weakness. And in her own way, she understood. She wouldn’t ask him about his accident; she wouldn’t ask him if he was hurt, or how he’d recovered from it.

  Composed and seemingly recovered from his pain, he asked, “Are you okay? Did I
hurt you?” He sounded genuinely concerned.

  “No, I’m fine. I just thought you were someone else. I’m good now.” That was somewhat of a lie—she didn’t like the fact she still cared so strongly for him.

  A working light pole shone above him. She couldn’t make out the color of his eyes, but she already knew they were sapphire-blue, and right now they looked dark and hard. His features couldn’t hide the emotions that resided behind them.

  It was only natural that she recognized the look of fury, hurt, and confusion. She saw it in her own eyes when she looked in the mirror most days. It was frustration at not being able to change the situation you were dealt with in life. The only thing that could make Jake feel those kinds of emotions was the ending of his baseball career.

  “What are you doing here by yourself?” he asked through clenched teeth.

  “I’ve been coming here most of my teenaged life. It’s always been safe. It still is, unless you were really trying to attack me.”

  A slight grin formed. “I’m beginning to think I’m just your go-to guy when you need to blame someone. First with the whole car incident, and now me attacking you.”

  “Maybe you should quit giving me reasons to make you my go-to guy.”

  “Yeah, I guess I could do that, but you look so damn cute when you wrinkle up your forehead and try to take charge.”

  Like last night, his eyes softened and looked playful in the light.

  “What is wrong with you? I yelled out your name several times.”

  “I had my iPod. Which you ripped from my ears.” She pointed down the track, where her iPod probably lay scattered in a thousand mini pieces.

  “I would say that wasn’t my fault, but I don’t feel like listening to you rant about me and responsibilities again. So what I will say is—if your iPod happens to be broken, I will buy you a new one, deal?” He gave a gentlemanly bow. He knew how to work his charm.

  “I say that’s smart.”

  “I just say it’s way easier than arguing with a stubborn woman.” He ran his callused hand through his unruly hair, pushing long, unkempt pieces out of his eyes.

  “If you weren’t here to attack me, then what are you doing here?”

  She hated that she was foolish enough to be spooked so easily. But what was she supposed to think? It was getting dark, she was alone, and someone grabbed her from behind. Any sane person would have reacted the same way. While Patience had been a small, sit-on-the porch-with-a-glass-of-sweet-tea town when she’d lived here—things change. How was she supposed to know it was Jake behind her?

  “Just the same as you…running, enjoying the fresh air, killing time. I come here a couple times a week. This body doesn’t keep up on its own.”

  She’d figured out the hard way that a body required healthy eating and exercise to stay in shape. It was irritating to see him the way he was and well…while she was way out of shape. That was it—she was making it a goal to get her butt down to the track a couple times a week herself. No more late night chocolate. All women around the world were being told a complete lie—chocolate was not a girl’s best friend. She needed a new best friend, and that was going to be running—or at least brisk walking.

  Of course, why else would someone come to the walking track? She remembered a time when they’d come here together and wondered if he remembered those night walks or early morning runs.

  “Why are you?”

  “Why am I what?”

  “Why are you here past dark? Most people come down here before sunset.”

  He looked at her from her feet up to her chest, but his gaze stopped there. Crap. She’d forgotten that she only was wearing a flimsy, thin piece of fabric called a sports bra under her large vintage T-shirt. Just great. Why couldn’t she have worn something a little bit more presentable out in public? Now she was paying the price.

  “Well, I have to say this look on you comes in a close second to last night’s dress. While the shirt is a little big, the shorts leave little for me to imagine. I love skimpy clothes on a woman.”

  Along with her T-shirt, she wore cotton shorts that might have been considered a little too tight, but that was only because of the weight she’d gained. They had not been deliberately bought to show off her long and lean legs.

  “What? These are not skimpy clothes. You make me feel like a slut or something.”

  “I’m not complaining. Like I said, I love the look.”

  She didn’t think he was insulting her, but where did he get off calling her clothes skimpy. “Well, like I said before—I don’t care what you think about me or my clothes.”

  “But, don’t you?”

  Though it was hard to turn from those piercing eyes, she did. Heat started at her neck and worked its way upward. Damn curse. She couldn’t hide her irritation, attraction, or any other passion she secretly felt…except it couldn’t be a secret because it literally showed all over her face.

  Jake instinctively grabbed her arm before she could run away again. “I don’t mean to be offensive.”

  She couldn’t help her gaze dropping to the part of her arm he held firmly in his grip, but only for a second. “I think you do.”

  His hold weakened just a bit, but she could feel he wasn’t ready to completely let her go. “No, I don’t. I was simply stating I don’t mind your sexy clothes, but whether you want to admit or not, you do care what I think. You forget, I can read your face.” He used his other hand to point to the face blazing with emotion.

  “Let. Me. Go.”

  “You going to run again?”

  She didn’t exactly know what time in her life he was referring to, because she’d run from most of it. For his well-being, he’d better only be talking about a few minutes ago. When she didn’t respond, he did the smart thing and released her arm.

  She yanked her ponytail down, only to fix it and put it up again. “You’re impossible—you’re insulting—and you’re…” She stopped to think of another word, and came up with: “Reckless.”

  “You know you love it, though.”

  “Oh, let’s not forget cocky. Did the baseball groupies stroke your ego so much that you’ve forgotten you’re not as charming as you think?”

  The biggest grin spread across his face at that moment. He actually thought he was God’s gift to women.

  “You would be shocked at what they stroked, sweetness.”

  Wow. That was not what she was expecting. She had to pick her jaw up off the asphalt to even remotely try to respond to that. He was original; she had to give that to him.

  Knowing that what she was going to say next was a low blow didn’t stop her one bit. If he was going to fight dirty, she would too. “Did a baseball ever hit you in the head and cause foot-in-mouth syndrome?”

  His expression only wavered for a second. She could almost see his mind going back to the baseball that he had hit, causing him to try to make it home from first base, only to be rewarded with his career ending. If she wasn’t waiting for the change in his facial features, she probably wouldn’t have noticed. He recovered nicely, seeming unscathed by the comment and memory.

  “I’m just telling you like it is. I’m an honest man.”

  “Well, if that’s not a lie in itself. You don’t have to go making up stories just for my benefit. I will still think less of you.”

  He laughed. “I have all the proof to back up each and every one.”

  “I’m sure you do. I bet all the chicks at that bar I wouldn’t be caught dead in know all about you, huh?”

  “Sure do. Maybe you should go down there some time while you’re in town and ask around. The stories will make your thighs tingle and your cheeks flush…about like they are right now.”

  “Wow. You are something, Jake Lawrence. I’ve been back for two days, have dealt with you running me off the road, stealing my house, trying to bargain with me to get it back—and now you scare the living day lights out of me, and you still are an asshole to me. And don’t even say that none of this is
your fault. I’ve never slapped anyone before in my life, but I don’t mind you being my first.”

  She knew he was most likely telling the truth about him sleeping around—a baseball career had nothing to do with that. Em had even commented on it during their visit earlier. Besides, he knew how to do that eleven years ago; he just wasn’t so cocky about it. Well, she really didn’t know if he was cocky or not because she didn’t stick around to find out. Back then he had the sense enough to hide it…now he was just being cruel.

  “So what about those dates? You want to come over for dinner at my house tomorrow night and make the first one official?”

  “It’s my house—and no, we will not be dating.”

  “Why?”

  She crossed her arms over her midsection. “Because you’re a jackass.”

  “Now who’s being insulting? You should really work on your self-control, it causes a frown line right there.” He brought his hand up to rub the center of her forehead.

  “Don’t touch me.” Instead of stomping away, she sped walked toward her car. She was not the one who was being insulting, and she sure as hell wasn’t out of control. Just showed how well he really knew her.

  She didn’t hear any footsteps from behind, so she could only hope that he wasn’t following her. A clap of thunder shook the ground, causing her to slightly jump. She’d forgotten about the storm that seemed to be brewing in the west. A fat raindrop landed on her cheek, falling slowly down her face. She’d trustingly left her keys in the car and was steps away when she heard gravel crunching.

  Another clap of thunder boomed in the sky. The storm was getting closer and ready to show its ugly face. Maybe she would be able to sleep tonight with the soothing sounds.

  She was opening her door when Jake reached around her and slammed it back into its closed position.