by Pamela Fryer
“So she moved up to Portland with you.”
He nodded. On the silenced television screen, images of fire trucks in front of a blazing building reflected the turbulent memories that accompanied thoughts of Christina.
“She was beautiful, and I loved her with all my heart. I think in her own way, she loved me, too.”
August had rolled onto her side to face him. She balanced her cast on her hip and leaned on her good arm. “I’m sure she did.”
“But even the simplest things about marriage with her were hard. She had a lot of problems. She’d used drugs as a teenager and she was constantly fighting with depression. Prescription meds helped her short term, but after a time, they made her sick and sapped her energy, so she stopped taking them. It was a cycle with us.”
“Did she use drugs during your marriage?”
He swallowed. Would it have been the lesser evil if she had? He would never know. “By then she was drinking, which was worse because alcohol is a depressant.”
August nodded. He met her eyes. Hers were wide and sad, as if she didn’t want to know but couldn’t stop listening, like someone who happens upon a car wreck but can’t force themselves to look away.
“Once she disappeared for two and a half weeks. We went as far as to issue a missing person’s report, and visit the morgue when a woman matching her description was brought in. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “That’s how I understand what the people in your life are going through.”
He looked back in time to see her glance away, her long lashes hiding glossy tears.
“But I’m alive. And someday I’m going to find those people.”
“Someday soon,” he promised, and meant it. “I’m going to help you.”
She brushed his shoulder with the backs of her fingers, a barely there, feather-light caress.
“Christina came home on her own, very obviously strung out. I never knew where she was or what happened to her, but I can only assume she’d hit rock bottom because in the next three months she tried harder to be my wife and fit in with our family than she ever had.”
The memories were almost too much to bear. Even those last, pleasant days didn’t bring any peace because now after the fact, he recognized how phony they had been. Their entire marriage had been a precarious dance on a high-wire, with his family as the audience below, holding their breath at the edges of their seats.
“Then Derek came home. He and I have always had our differences, and when he was in New York, I was glad he was as far away as he could be. He’d made buckets of money on the runways and he was a lead model for Ralph Lauren, but he blew it all—his career and his savings—on drugs. Putting him and Christina together was like mixing nitro and glycerin.”
He glanced over at August. She stared off into the darkness with a far-away look in her eye. “What if I’m like that?” she asked softly. “What if I have this really terrible past, where I did horrible things?”
“You’re not that kind of person,” he said quickly. He was sure of it. Sweet, kind August could never be even half as cruel and self-destructive as Christina and Derek both were.
“You don’t know that. What if my family are thieves, or con artists? I’m not exactly ugly—”
Geoffrey laughed but August remained rigidly serious.
“I could have used my looks to take advantage of trusting people. Maybe I’m subconsciously doing it to you.”
Wariness bristled along the edges of his thoughts. “I’d like to think that even if that’s who you were, you’ve changed.”
She looked back at him and smiled. “You’re too good to me.” Her expression grew somber. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. Please go on. You said Derek came home.”
Geoffrey took a deep breath, trying to formulate the least humiliating way to explain what happened. There was none.
“They had an affair,” he said bluntly.
“No.”
August frowned in that pitying way people did to show sympathy. Usually it left him feeling ashamed, but from August it was the kind of encouragement he needed, especially now that Derek was back in his life.
“I had no idea he could sink so low. I trusted you that there was something big between you two, but I had no idea it was so awful. That is the worst thing a brother can do.” She softened her tone. “You’ve been very tolerant of him, considering.”
“Supposedly, it wasn’t really an affair. They only...were together twice.”
“Sheesh! Even if it was once, it was an affair. And even if it was only once, it’s still unforgivable.”
She was the first person to agree with him on that. Everyone else had coddled poor Derek, the baby of the family, with his drug problem and his broken finances, led astray by the big city. It made Geoffrey want to punch his hand through a wall.
“I keep a lot of my anger to myself. It wouldn’t do my family any good to start a war with him. Besides, where Derek is concerned, my father just won’t listen. He loves to carry him out of trouble. I wish he’d realize he’s only making Derek worse.”
“It’s called ‘enabling.’” She glanced off and frowned, as if she wasn’t sure how she knew that.
As tired as he was when he’d climbed out of the SUV, now he was wide awake and alert, aware of every nuance of their intimacy.
“Was Derek driving the car?”
It took him a moment to realize what she’d meant.
“No, Derek wasn’t even in Oregon. Leah had caught him and Christina together and made him catch the first available flight back to New York.”
“Good for her. She’s tough. I like her.” August pursed her lips. “But I have to admit, I have less respect now for Derek.”
He choked out a forlorn laugh. “In all truth, I can’t really blame Derek. Christina was always looking for bigger and better things, and she was seduced by his lifestyle. The parties, the celebrities, the prestige that came with being a model. He put stars in her eyes. He had her convinced she could be a model, too, and truly, she could have been. Not only was she beautiful, she had incredible bone structure and she photographed well. But that lifestyle would have destroyed her.”
“Like it did Derek.”
“They’re both a lot alike: weak in the face of temptation.”
“Obviously.” She chewed her lip. “But as bad as things are between you, I don’t want you to blame him for what happened that morning he scared me. He really hadn’t done anything wrong; it was all me. I don’t want to make things worse between you.”
She shifted, bending her arm again to touch his shoulder with the backs of her fingers. Her warmth, and the unwavering strength she’d displayed these past few weeks, seeped into him and made him feel stronger, too.
“Healing is good for the soul,” she said. “That’s probably what everyone has been telling you.”
“Yeah, in one way or another.” He sighed. “I know. I also know now it was Christina who instigated what happened between them. I was never enough for her. I should have known that from the start.”
August shook her head. “You are such a special man. I wish she could have seen that.”
His emotions surged. He loved that she took the time to look, but it had been so much more than his failed relationship with Christina that had made him crawl off and cower in the corners of his life. August hadn’t yet met his overachieving older brothers, whose shadows he’d always trailed in.
“We were living at the beach house that last summer, and I had gone to the office in Portland for a day that had turned into three. Leah told Christina, in no uncertain terms, that when I got back she had to tell me everything. She was so upset she started drinking. When I got home, she blurted everything, and told me she was leaving me. She was going to New York, so Derek could introduce her into the business.”
“Oh, Geoffrey, I’m so sorry.”
“It was bound to happen sooner or later, for one reason or another. She
couldn’t live the simple life I provided for her.”
“She didn’t know how good she had it.” August sighed. “What I wouldn’t give to find I have a simple life even half as wonderful.”
“I wouldn’t have tried to stop her if she hadn’t been drunk. I would have let her go.”
August laid her head down on the pillow and shifted her body closer to his. She looked down past her feet to the silent television as butterflies fluttered across a digitally created meadow in a fabric softener commercial. She swiped at her eye as though trying to hide the fact she was teary.
“You deserve so much better.” Her trembling voice betrayed her.
He swallowed and finished with the hardest part. “When I tried to stop her, she grabbed the keys to both cars and ran out the front door. She threw my keys into the ice plant and drove off in her car. As soon as I found mine, I went after her. I was nearly to town when I came upon the accident. Her car was on its roof and Christina had crawled out. She didn’t look hurt, standing there in the road. When I got to her, she collapsed into my arms.”
She lifted her hand and when he shifted, they brushed together. He turned his hand to take hers and August laced her fingers within his.
“A witness had already called an ambulance. I thought she would be okay, but when I arrived behind them at the hospital, they told me she died on the way.”
“I’m so sorry...for her. That she didn’t realize how good she had it with you. That she ever took drugs the first time. What a tragic waste.”
“I should have seen it coming. I should have tried harder to help her. She needed therapy. I shouldn’t have thought I could help her just by keeping her away from the city. If only I had done more for her, she might still be alive.”
“You don’t know that.”
“And unfortunately I never will. Don’t you see why I’m helping you? I couldn’t live with myself if another woman died because I didn’t offer my help. I need to do this, or I’ll never find any peace.”
Chapter Fifteen
August stared out the window at rolling country as his words echoed in her mind. “I need to do this, or I’ll never find any peace.”
She knew he hadn’t meant it as it sounded, that she wasn’t some charity case to appease his guilt. But she understood where he was coming from, and it made it harder to stay true to her decision.
She had to leave the beach house. Even if Leah and Jocelyn were gone, she couldn’t be responsible for endangering the Barthlow family in any way. But Geoffrey wouldn’t see it that way. He would see it as her leaving him, just like Christina had.
The idea she might hurt him made her stomach clench. If only she could find a way to make him understand.
He glanced at her, but didn’t comment on her quiet mood. She felt wretched.
They reached the Oregon border faster on the interstate, and when they pulled off at the exit for Newport, she asked him if they could stop at the Mirthful Mermaid for some clam chowder.
It was nearly three thirty when they arrived at the restaurant, and only two groups sat in the huge dining room.
“Well, hello there, you two.” Gran Millie greeted them from the bar. “Any luck?”
August shook her head. “It was a lovely drive, but nothing came to me.”
“Well, don’t push it. The brain is a complicated engine that doesn’t like to be over-revved.”
August smiled. Gran Millie always had a direct and simple way of putting things that made terrific sense. “I thought your clam chowder would help. Can we take that table by the window?”
Gran Millie shooed them away with a wave of her towel. “Go on, I’ll be right over.”
“All right, August,” Geoffrey said as he helped her into a chair. “What’s up? You seem...focused.”
“I’ve been thinking about your idea of a trap, of sorts.”
He sat across from her and eyed her warily. This wasn’t going to be easy, but she was determined to make him see it her way.
“And?”
“I think it’s worth looking into.”
Gran Millie ambled over, carrying a tray with two huge bowls of Boston clam chowder and iced tea for them both.
“Thanks, Gran Millie.”
“Be back in a snap with some soda crackers.”
Geoffrey waited until his grandmother was out of earshot. “But?”
She sipped an almost too-hot spoonful carefully, biding her time. “Can you read me that easily?”
He frowned. “Yes.”
She took a deep breath, trying to find the gentlest words. “I like the idea...just not from the house.”
“From where, then?” He hadn’t touched his spoon.
“I want to talk to your grandmother about that.”
He looked down, and then away. He could sense where this was going, and he wasn’t happy about it. A wave of guilt heated her blood. She had to be careful, make sure he understood she wasn’t leaving him, only the house.
“I don’t want to put your family in any more danger.”
“Leah and Jocelyn have gone back to Portland. Derek is the only one there.”
“And you.”
“I can take care of myself.”
She reached across the table and placed her hand on top of his. “It’s because of you, Geoffrey. I’d die if anything happened to you.”
He shook his head, shrugging her protests away. “I understand where you’re coming from, and I love you for it, but you’re worried over nothing.”
“It isn’t nothing.” She sighed and straightened her napkin, trying to find the words to make him understand without hurting him at the same time. “There’s more to it than that. I need to occupy my day with more than just trying to remember the past. I think I’ve been trying so hard to reclaim my memory that’s precisely why I haven’t.”
“I told you, we can head to my loft in Portland. We’ll leave some sort of clue for whoever this is—”
“Your grandmother still needs lunch help. I want you to ask her about letting me stay in the room above the bar.”
He caught his breath. Stared at her. Something inside her crumbled.
“You haven’t even seen it. It’s a closet. Besides, what can you do with only one hand?”
“I’m not exactly helpless. Look at my hands; I still have calluses. I worked hard, whatever I did before.”
He shook his head. “I’m not saying you didn’t—”
“It’s this, or the women’s shelter in Corvallis.”
The ultimatum rolled bitterly off her tongue, and after she’d dropped it, she wished she could take it back. After his revelation about Christina last night, she knew it sounded like she was leaving him, too. But even though their relationship had advanced from more than simple friendship, he shouldn’t feel that they were “breaking up.” Neither should she.
And yet she did. He leaned back in his chair and gave her a long look. “It sounds like you’ve made up your mind.”
“I need to work. I need to feel useful. I can’t remain your guest until I remember. What if it takes six months? A year?”
“You can remain my guest as long as it takes.” He clenched his jaw.
She softened her tone, trying to smooth over the mood that had effectively turned sour. “I know you feel responsible and you need to do this for your conscience—”
“That’s not what this is about.” Geoffrey leaned forward and reclaimed her hand. He gave her a resolute squeeze. “I care for you very deeply, August. I would be happy if you never left.”
A warm rush of pleasure made her tingle, and she couldn’t help but smile. His expression softened and he managed to smile back.
“Then do this for me,” she said in a softly pleading voice. “Understand that this is what I need right now. Give me a reference with your grandmother.”
Gran Millie approached the table cautiously. “This looks serious.”
“Would you sit with us for a moment?” August asked. “We have something to ask yo
u.”
“I think it’s a bad idea. You’re not safer here.”
“All right, you two. What’s going on?” Gran Millie dragged a chair around from the next table and sat on it backward.
With a grimace and an exasperated sigh, Geoffrey leaned against the backrest of his chair. “August wants to move into the apartment above the bar. She wants to work here.”
Gran Millie’s brows shot up. “She does, does she? I never knew anyone who’d trade a suite at the beach house for the room over the bar.”
“Tell her everything, Geoffrey.”
Gran Millie crossed her arms over the back of the chair. “Spill it, grandson.”
He relayed what August told him about working and occupying her day, and with the feeling she was being followed by an unknown red-haired woman.
Gran Millie glanced sidelong at August. “Mike told me he went out there yesterday.”
“August thought someone was in the house,” Geoffrey told her.
“Someone was in the house,” she insisted. “I can’t stand the fact an intruder broke in because of me.”
“Did Mike find any evidence?”
“Just an unlocked patio door,” Geoffrey answered.
August swiveled toward Gran Millie. “I don’t want to put you in an uncomfortable position. The truth is I would feel safer here than I would at the woman’s shelter in Corvallis. We know it’s a young woman following me—”
“We don’t know anything for certain,” Geoffrey argued.
“What it comes down to is I need a job. I need to keep busy and get my mind off the fact I can’t remember anything, and then maybe I will.”
“Well, August, I think having a cute little thing like you around could only be good for business, even if you do have only one hand.” She glanced at Geoffrey. “But I don’t want to come between you and my grandson.”
Geoffrey clenched his jaw, but remained silent.
“It’s up to you, Geoffrey.” Gran Millie smiled as she lifted her brows at him. “It looks like you’ve got two choices, and one of ’em’s all the way in Corvallis.”
He rolled his eyes and grumbled. “Fine. If August wants to move in here, I guess that’s better than going all the way to Corvallis.”
