“Yeah, but you did,” he said.
“I’m so sorry.”
“You didn’t care,” he said. “You never cared enough to call before you left. To say where you were going. But I was always there, wasn’t I? Walking behind you, sweeping up the pieces all too eagerly. You let me.” It was the most vehement I’d seen Skip. It seemed he had changed as much as I had while we were apart.
I swallowed. Nothing he said was a lie.
“We’re done with this, Sanders,” he said. His arms were crossed and he was focused on the blank screen of the television.
“What?” I asked with a dry, cracking voice.
“This enabling of each other.” His ears and cheeks reddened.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
He wouldn’t look at me. His chest was heaving with anger and his chin quivered. “I deserve better,” he said.
“Fuck yes, you do. I want you to be happy. You deserve everything.”
He sniffed once and looked at me tentatively.
“I needed you when Dad died. And you left.”
I balled my fists until it hurt. “I’ve been so selfish.”
“I know you were in pain. I was hurting too,” he said.
“I’m not gonna do it again, mate. I’ll show you in a hundred ways. Whatever you need.”
Skip sighed. “I think it’s time to close down OTB.” He gathered his breath. “No. I know that I don’t want to do OTB anymore. It was always your passion and not mine.”
“Okay.” I sensed it was coming but it still stung. It really was the end of an era. “We will work out the details when you’re better. There aren’t any clients right now anyway.”
We sat in silence until, after a few minutes, he asked, “You’re talking to someone?”
“Yeah. They’re helping me work through some shit.”
“Good. You’re allowed to be more than one thing, Sanders. I’m your best friend for who you are, not because you can charm a car salesman out of his coat.”
I fought to keep my features smooth when he said “best friend” but the relief was so immense that I couldn’t hide a tremor in my lip. “I’m glad I haven’t fucked it up so bad.”
“You have a lot of making up to do. Not just to me.” He held my gaze.
“Oh yeah, I know.”
“Strength comes from living through the pain, not ignoring it. Your father told me that.”
I squeezed his hand.
“Skip!” Roxy gasped out behind me, as if summoned on cue from the heavens.
My head snapped to the door where she stood, her hand to her mouth, face ashen. She was dressed head to toe in black. If she saw me sitting in the chair, she didn’t acknowledge it.
“What are you wearing?” Skip asked, as he opened his arms for a hug without moving his lower body.
“It’s a long story.” She came forward and hugged him hesitantly. A waft of her sweet coconut shampoo reached me and I inhaled her deeply. “I was supposed to go to this thing with the SWS and—”
“Are you talking to the girls again?” I cut in.
She shot me a glance, faltering briefly as she took me in but quickly brought her focus back to Skip. “But I left as soon as I heard. Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Honestly, it’s nothing. I’m just gonna be off my leg for eight weeks. You didn’t need to come.”
“I’d rather be here with you,” she said with a wave of her hand.
“I’m glad you are.”
They clasped hands and smiled at each other. Two months was a long time. I’d missed so much of my life by falling off the map. For a slight second, hand in hand, I thought the worst. I assumed the worst. Had my absence drove them into each other’s arms? But Skip would never, not if he thought I had feelings … not with—
“Skip?” another voice said from the door.
“Jack?” I asked, automatically looking for Ford who was nowhere to be seen. “What are you doing here?
Once again, the room ignored me. I deserved that.
Jack’s usually dimpled cheeks were tight with tension. “Are you okay?” He walked toward Skip. His hands lifted and then dropped and eventually settled in the pockets of his coat.
Skip scooted up higher in the bed and tucked some stray hairs back. I looked to Jack. I looked to Skip. Jack and Skip looked nowhere but each other.
“I feel ridiculous. It’s just a broken bone. I’m going to be fine.” Color rose in Skip’s cheeks.
What the hell had I missed in two months?
“We’ll just go and see if we can find some coffee.” Roxy dragged me to the exit as she spoke.
We came to a stop in the waiting area and she dropped my hand.
“That’s a look.” Her voice was neutral as she pointed to my beard.
Had she gotten my letters? Had she missed me? I had so many questions but found her so hard to read with this mask up. I kept my hands clasped behind my back.
“It wasn’t on purpose. It just sort of happened.”
My hair was long enough to be tied back. Curly in some patches and straight in other, it was a mess and super hard to manage. I needed to get it cut but hadn’t cared at all until I sat here under her scrutiny.
“You look like you teach yoga on weekends off from your startup company and drink kombucha,” she said without revealing any emotions.
I held back a smile.
“Really?” I looked down to examine my outfit of fitness shorts and sneakers. “I was going more for European-soccer-player exotic.” I flexed my bicep and she smiled before she could catch herself.
“I’ve missed you,” she said on an exhale and then frowned at her shoes.
“I’ve missed you,” I responded immediately. Hope made my voice high and tight. “Can we talk?”
She glanced at her watch and chewed her bottom lip. “I have to go. It’s a whole thing with Kim and her guy Devlin. But let’s chat before you head back to Denver, okay?”
“I’d like that,” I said.
I wanted to hug her. I wanted to scoop her up and handcuff her to me. But I could be patient. I wasn’t going to give up. I was going to fight for her.
“See ya around, Colonel.” She walked away, glancing one last time to flash a grin over her shoulder. As soon as she was out of sight, I clapped my hands and shouted “Woo!” causing a few nearby nurses to stare at me.
I pushed back into the room. Jack stepped back quickly from the side of the bed. Skip flushed and adjusted the blankets. Then he took in my face.
“Oh no,” Skip said.
“What?” Jack asked, his face drawn with worry.
“Sanders has crazy-idea eyes.”
“Oh boy, do I!” I rubbed my hands eagerly.
“Did you and Roxy figure things out?” Skip asked.
“Not even a little,” I said grinning.
“So you’re not happy?” Jack asked in clear confusion, looking between the two of us.
“No. Not really. But I think I can be,” I said. “But I’m going to need help.”
It was officially time to say goodbye to the Sanders I had been and start my new life.
Chapter 28
Sanders
Two nights later I found myself in an ultra-modern cabin nestled in the Smokies. Actually, scratch that, it was totally a mansion that looked like it had been pulled straight from the pages of a fancy home interior magazine. Did conducting really make this sort of money? I was in the wrong business. I would have loved to go exploring more but the owner was currently staring at me with daggers in his eyes and arms crossed. I looked around and behind me. Yep, definitely glaring at me.
“Devlin, he’s cool,” this came from Ford, who shot the big guy a skeptical glance. “He just messed up. You and I can’t throw stones for that.”
Devlin’s frown deepened and he uncrossed his arms. He looked familiar but scowled every time I tried to place his face. Apparently, while I’d been away, all these guys had grown close in their proximity to the women of the SWS. Devl
in, the scary one, had recently connected with his longtime love, Kim Dae. Ford Rutledge and Suzie Samuels were engaged. Ford and Devlin had worked together with Ford’s Fosters, much like Jack and Skip had volunteered their time. Interestingly enough, it was Devlin who invited us all to his mansion to make a game plan, but despite the invite, I didn’t exactly feel welcomed.
“I didn’t leave for two months,” Devlin defended.
As I paced a living room the size of my entire apartment, Skip and Jack brought beers over from the kitchen. Well, Skip just scooted on his wheeled stool thing and Jack carried the beers.
“But you did let her leave,” Jack said.
Devlin asked me in a deep, rumbling voice, “Two months and you didn’t do anything to win her back? No wonder she’s protected herself against you.”
“I wrote her letters. The whole time,” I said. “I don’t know if she got them but the idea was there.”
“Letters?” Ford asked with obvious skepticism.
“What’s wrong with that?” The big, scary man glared at Ford.
Ford’s eyebrows shot up. “No. Nothing. Very romantic.” He cleared his throat and turned back to me. “What are you going to do, Sanders?” Ford asked.
“I’m not sure. I need to do something big.”
“What does she want more than anything?” Ford asked.
“Could you write her a song?” Devlin said at the same time.
“I think she just wants to be loved for who she is. What we all want,” I said to Ford. Then I turned to Devlin. “Unless I changed the words to ‘Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star,’ I got nothing.”
“Well, what do you bring to the table?” Jack asked. There was a definite defensiveness to his tone. He’d not exactly warmed up to me. Hopefully he would in time.
Skip looked from Jack to me with a frown and then added, “Meaning what can you do for her that no other person in the world could?”
The three men looked at me expectantly. The reality of my situation hit me. Then I remembered my father’s letters.
“I know without a doubt nobody will ever love her as much as I do.” I slumped into a massive leather couch next to a fireplace the size of a car. “But that’s not enough, is it? Roxy doesn’t need me. She’s totally fine without me.”
Devlin and Ford exchanged a look.
“Well, he’s not as dumb as I thought,” Devlin said and moved to a chair to my left. The man was huge. No wonder he needed a house this size.
Ford sat across from me. He leaned in seriously. “Here’s the thing. None of these women need us. They are all more than capable of handling life on their own. But that doesn’t mean that they want to.”
Jack helped Skip sit down before joining him on a smaller couch.
“I just want her happy,” I said on an exhale. “I think I fucked up too much to get her back.”
“So don’t get her back. Just show up. Every day. Be there when she is sad. Hold her hand when she feels alone,” Skip said.
“Believe in her when she can’t believe in herself,” Ford said.
“Tell her that you need her. That she makes you a better person,” Devlin said gruffly, then cleared his throat.
I looked to each man, swallowing down a lump. “It’s all true.”
“Just tell her everything you feel. Don’t hold back,” Jack said. “The only way to receive real love is to open yourself to it. To become vulnerable to it and risk pain like you never felt.”
Skip stilled, his gaze piercing the floor.
“Sounds awesome,” I said dryly.
“It’s everything,” Ford said at the same time Devlin said, “It is.”
Skip held my gaze. “It’s the only thing that makes it all worth it. Having people. We could go through life alone. We would survive but we aren’t meant to. We’re meant to need people and to lift each other up.”
“It’s what this is all about, as far as I have been able to figure out. It’s the whole point of life,” Ford said to himself, looking at his hands.
“What?” I asked.
“To love. And to be loved,” he said.
The room went silent. I would have never thought in a million years that I would be in a room full of men discussing the power of love. And yet here in this moment, it felt like the most important thing. We all studied our shoes. After a few sniffs and grunts, Devlin stood up.
“Okay. I’m getting another round.”
“Yeah, sounds good.”
“I gotta piss.”
“I’m going to chop some wood.”
We all spoke at once.
When we came back together, Devlin asked, “Okay. So what does she like in a guy?”
I thought back on our conversations. I thought of what she said about her ex, the biker. I thought about her parents who had no idea what a treasure they had made. Finally, I said, “Stability, I think.”
“We’ve established that showing up and sticking around are a must,” Jack said.
Ford was frowning. “I have a thought. Suzie really seemed to like it when I cleaned up.” Color rose high in his cheeks. “Finessed my looks.”
“Kim likes a little wildness,” Devlin said, glaring around as though any of us would challenge him. “She likes my bike.”
“I’m not a biker. I don’t even know how to ride one,” I said.
“I could teach you,” Devlin said.
“Wait,” Jack said. We all looked at him expectantly. “Oh. I have an idea.”
“I don’t like that look,” I whispered to Skip.
When I looked to my best friend, he was watching Jack with a smile on his lips.
“Trust him,” Skip said.
“How do you feel about sideburns?” Jack asked.
Roxy
“Mother Nature approved,” Gretchen said as we all looked up and warmed our faces in the unseasonably warm fall day.
The SWS had just arrived at the Autumn Carnival just outside Green Valley, celebrating the start of my favorite season. A traveling carnival had arrived to town. The once abandoned mall parking lot now housed a carousel, a few sketchy rides, and food trucks. The delicious smell of fried Twinkies and cotton candy filled the air. This year’s theme for the Autumn Carnival was 1950s and Gretchen of course had taken the theme and run with it. Earlier in the day we were invited to her closet and she dressed us accordingly from the wardrobe that could double as a store.
“It’s a shame we look so damn cute,” Kim said. “I’m about to eat my weight in fair foods.”
“Don’t worry, boo, I’ll roll you out on one of those roller-coaster carts,” I said lightly but inside I was a bundle of nerves.
“You’re a good friend.” She nudged me with her shoulder.
Kim wore white linen shorts that highlighted her fantastic legs. Her chestnut brown hair was rolled in pin curls and tucked neatly under a maroon ribbon. Her shirt was a long-sleeved crop top that wrapped around her to show just a smidge of her midriff. It was a patterned plaid of browns, yellows, and oranges, with a starched collar.
I wore simple pedal pushers in a retro pattern in a rainbow of goldenrod, hazelnut, and pea green. I wore a turtleneck of a solid goldenrod and a thick brown belt that cinched my waist to unrealistic proportions. I finished my look off with black and white saddle shoes and a high ponytail with ringlets. Gretchen even gave me a cat eye on point with hers and curled my usual straight bangs to fit the style.
“I’m glad you came out,” Suzie said to me. “You’ve been working so much.”
Suzie wore black capris and ballet flats with a fuzzy pink, cap-sleeved crop top. Her hair was reminiscent of Audrey Hepburn in her pixie phase … but with a body strong enough to hang perpendicular off a pole.
“I didn’t really have a choice. Gretchen made me,” I teased.
“Hey! I am not so pushy these days. I’m getting better,” she added when I gave her a look. “Listen, people don’t change overnight.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” I said. “No. I really did nee
d a night out. Seeing Skip at the hospital was a wake-up call.” I didn’t mention the other person I saw there nor my big plans for the day. Only Gretchen knew and helped me ensure it would happen. “I’m going to be cutting back a little at work.”
“Glad to hear it. Did he seem better?” Kim asked.
“Yeah, he’ll just be in crutches for a while. But they gave him one of those cool scooty things so he can still get around.”
“That’s good,” Kim said patiently. “But I was referring to Sanders.”
“Oh.” I let out air. He looked tired that night at the hospital. His preppy look had grown out. The beard had been surprisingly dark and thick for his light coloring. His longer hair showed that he was more of a dirty blond, sun-bleached and saltwater-textured. Like he’d been captaining a ship especially wearing that damn knit sweater. I said, “He seemed sad. Better and worse. Haggard? Skip said he’s talking to a therapist though. I’m glad.”
“Therapy is so necessary,” Kim said.
Suzie nodded. “We need to treat mental health like a priority and not emergency aftercare. If it was up to me, we’d have therapy as often as haircuts.”
“Agreed,” Gretch said sucking on a red lollipop that she had produced out of nowhere. Of all of us, she looked the most at home at the carnival. Her fiery red hair was wrapped in a silk polka-dot scarf paired with oversized white sunglasses so big her fire-engine red lips popped even more. Her outfit was a simple white and cherry halter dress with a sweetheart-cut top and a flared skirt.
“Does he love you?” Gretchen asked.
I shrugged. “He hasn’t said so.”
“Maybe the timing wasn’t right?” Kim said.
She and Devlin finally reunited and they were in a very happy honeymoon period. Her cheeks glowed perpetually with joy. I was only a tiny bit jealous. Only because I had tasted joy like that once and now life seemed bland.
“Yeah, but I’m not the same. I think we’ve both changed,” I said.
“You’re still Roxy. And if he loved you, then that didn’t change.”
Let’s hope, I thought. Instead, I said, “Can we eat fried food until I bust out of this ridiculous girdle? Thank God girdles died.”
The One That I Want (Scorned Women Society Book 3) Page 25
