Half Past: A Novel

by Victoria Helen Stone

  He couldn’t get in. She just had to wait him out. Her suitcase was packed, her flight booked, and she was done with this godforsaken place. All she had to do was sleep through the night and she was out of here.

  He knocked again.

  Hannah set the wineglass down and crossed her arms. She didn’t know who he was, really. Couldn’t begin to suspect his motivations. Even now, she was the only one who knew what his mom had done. What if Maria had only been pretending to be a nice old lady? What if she’d called Gabriel and told him that Hannah was a problem? What if she actually knew Rain was dead and was just trying to keep Hannah quiet?

  It belatedly occurred to her that the rolls could be poisoned. If so, she was already a goner.

  He didn’t knock again, but she couldn’t tell if he’d walked away or not. Her heartbeat thundered, banging in her ears so she could hear nothing from the other side of the wall.

  Craning her neck, she glanced toward the back door. Had that been a shadow in the window? Was he sniffing around, looking for an opening? She’d checked that back lock several times, but now she wasn’t sure anymore. Was it secure?

  She pushed slowly to her feet and turned to stare at the back wall. She took one careful step. The floor creaked. And suddenly his voice boomed behind her. “Hannah?”

  She spun, hands flying to her mouth to hold in a shriek. The door was still closed. He hadn’t broken in.

  He knocked one more time. “Hannah?”

  Glaring at the door, she felt her fear begin to freeze into something harder. “Go away!” she yelled.

  “Hannah, please. I just want to say I’m sorry.”

  “You’re sorry?” she ground out between clenched teeth. He’d been the one good thing she’d found here. Something easy in this sea of crap.

  “I don’t know what to say.” His voice was more muffled now. Subdued.

  She stomped to the door and yanked it wide open. “How about you say you’re a liar?” Her words were too loud. She could hear that. And she could see it in the way he took a step back and held his hands up.

  “She’s my mother,” he said, hands tipping up now, pleading for understanding.

  “So you decided to screw with me and see what I knew?”

  “No. That wasn’t how it was.”

  “You were lying to me this whole time. Like . . . like some kind of scheming psycho!”

  “That’s not true. I swear it’s not true. Last night was the first time I realized she was involved.”

  “Last night. When I showed you the birth certificate. Before we had sex.”

  Gabriel winced. “Yes.”

  She stepped out, put her hands to his chest, shoved him. Hard. “What the hell, Gabriel?” She shoved again. He barely shifted under her hands but stepped back off the small landing.

  “I’m sorry. Can we just talk?”

  “You’re not coming into my room. You’re a creep.”

  He grimaced again, but nodded. “We’ll talk here, then.” He dropped down to sit on the step, watching her with big brown puppy-dog eyes.

  Hannah looked around, half hoping she’d suddenly see a lot of neighbors. But there was no one here. Only the constant presence of the river, chasing over rocks and roots somewhere in the forest. The gray light was turning blue, the invisible sun disappearing somewhere over the sea.

  “My full name is Gabriel Antonio Cabrillo Diaz.”

  She crossed her arms and didn’t respond.

  “She was acting weird about all this,” he explained. “Hurrying past my questions. I thought it was disapproval. That was all. Distaste for weird hippie stuff. She used to warn us all the time when we were kids to stay away from them. I thought that was why she didn’t want to talk.”

  “And then?”

  “Then you showed me the birth certificate.”

  “And you pretended you didn’t know who she was.”

  He nodded. “She’s my mom, Hannah. What did you expect me to do?”

  “I expected you not to sleep with me just so you could keep an eye on me and figure out if I was a threat.”

  “That’s not what happened.”

  “Oh, come on, Gabriel. You just suddenly found me irresistible?”

  “Yes,” he said. “No. I don’t know. I was stressed—”

  “Yeah, no wonder you needed a cigarette.”

  “I felt bad for you. I wanted to help, but . . . Shit, Hannah. It just happened, okay?”

  “Why did you ask me to spend the night?”

  “I don’t know.”

  She snorted.

  “I’m serious! It wasn’t nefarious. I just wanted you to spend the night. That’s all.”

  “You wanted to keep me away from your mom.”

  He tipped his head back to stare at the sky. Shook his head. Avoided her gaze. “That’s not true.”

  “You wanted to ask a few more questions.”

  “Okay, that might be true. But that wasn’t why I slept with you.”

  She crossed her arms tighter as a shiver worked through her. “Then why did you?”

  He threw his hands up and finally met her eyes. “Because I’ve liked you since the moment you sat down at my bar! Because you were strong and hot and it seemed like something we both needed. That’s why!”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Come on. You wanted to sleep with me too. Did you know who my mom was and you were playing me for more information?”

  She gasped. “No!”

  “Then why think my motivation was any different? We were attracted to each other. That’s what last night was about. That’s it.”

  She was too tired to keep the anger fueled. It began to melt away, leaving a little hollow in her chest. Too drained to fight anymore, Hannah let her legs give out and finally sat down next to him.

  “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I’m sorry I wasn’t truthful. But she was scared, and I haven’t seen her scared many times in my life. I wanted to protect her.”

  “You have a right to keep your mother’s secrets. I get that.”

  “She called me after you left her house. She told me about your mom. About you.”

  Her shoulders slumped. She let her head fall into her hands and cradled the weight of it. “I’m not going to get her in trouble, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “She told me that too.”

  “Okay. I accept your apology.” She stared down at her boots, at the dried brown leaves and needles beneath them. He owed more allegiance to his mother. Of course he did. So why did she feel so betrayed? “I’m sorry I pushed you.”

  “It’s fine.”

  “I don’t know. I just wanted you to be something good in this. Not another awful lie.”

  “Last night wasn’t a lie.”

  “Everything’s a lie,” she said, horrified even as the melodramatic words left her mouth. But they were true, weren’t they?

  “Are you going to keep looking for her?” Gabriel asked.

  She tried to bite back her laughter. “No. I’m definitely done looking.”

  “I’m sure my mom would be happy to—”

  “No,” she interrupted. “I’m leaving tomorrow. I need to get back home.”

  “Oh.”

  The light faded as she stared at the ground. Gabriel was still beside her. Patient. She liked him. She really did. But she felt like she was miles away already.

  His arm nudged her shoulder. “Come to the roadhouse. Let me feed you, at least.”

  “I already ate.”

  “I really don’t want this to end on a bad note.”

  This time she didn’t try to stifle her laughter. “I’m afraid that’s the only way this story is going to end. It’s not your fault. That’s just the way it is. But I’m sorry for dragging you into this.”

  “I’m not.”

  Her smile was only a little bitter when she finally lifted her head. “The sex was pretty good.”

  “Pretty good?” He slapped a hand over his heart. “Way to wound
a man’s ego.”

  The bitterness faded and she reached over to pull him in for a kiss. It was simple. Sweet. Just what she needed. “Thank you,” she whispered, “for making me laugh.”

  He kissed her again. “Anytime. I mean that. You know where I am.”

  “You probably take in a new stray every week.”

  “No,” he said quietly, “I don’t.”

  When she let him go, he nodded and stood, his mouth flat and grim. “Stay safe. And come back sometime.”

  She smiled, but that was a lie too. She was never coming back here.

  Once he was gone, Hannah started one last blaze in the fire pit. She finished her last bottle of wine and sat staring into the flames until they were red-hot and licking at the highest log.

  Then she dropped in her birth certificate. The copies of the deeds. The newspaper printouts. The notes she’d brought from home. She wished she could throw her memories in there too. Forget everything she’d learned.

  Since she couldn’t burn them, she’d stuff them down. Lock them up. Like any good Midwesterner would.

  Rain was faceless, formless, nameless. Dust to dust. And Hannah was going home.

  HOME

  CHAPTER 18

  She tapped the coffee stirrer nervously against the mug, tap, tap, tap, as if she were channeling Jeff. Did she need him here so badly that she couldn’t wait with any kind of calm? Maybe, because she was as fidgety as a five-year-old, but she did her best not to scratch the itchy poison oak rash on her left forearm.

  She would have preferred to meet him in a bar, but he was teaching a night class and had to head back to campus after this. When they were dating, she would have been able to charm him into a glass of wine before class, but they weren’t close enough for flirtation anymore. Strange that people could be so distant after so many years of sharing a bed.

  The late-afternoon meeting with her old boss had gone well, though she’d had to apologize for wearing jeans and a leather jacket that reeked of wood smoke. He looked like he’d lost an inch of hairline since her departure, and he’d been up-front about the offer. He was trying to reassemble a couple of the old teams. Some of their most important clients were dissatisfied with the lower level of service they were receiving. The new CEO had meant to cut costs by letting go of the highest-paid employees; instead, he was about to lose major clients.

  Hannah hadn’t accepted the job yet, but she imagined she’d say yes within a couple of days.

  The city had rolled out its best weather for her. She wasn’t fooled. She knew they’d just emerged from four days of thunderstorms. But God, the streets were clean and the lake sparkled with welcome. She was far from Big Sur and damn happy about that.

  It already felt like a dream. She’d stolen out of there in early morning darkness so she had no last memories of the inn or the coast to take with her. She’d driven all the way to San Jose before she’d stopped for breakfast and coffee. She’d chosen Starbucks to be sure there’d be no visual clues she was still in California.

  If she tried really hard, maybe she could pretend she didn’t know about the grave. The body. The death. Maybe she’d eventually believe that it wasn’t her responsibility and that running away had been the right thing to do for once. But for now she’d concentrate on fixing older mistakes. The fresh ones could wait.

  The door of the little coffee place opened, and Hannah’s head jerked to attention as it had with every whoosh of that door. This time she was rewarded with the sight of Jeff walking in. He wore a V-neck sweater she didn’t recognize. He’d shaved. And he smiled when he saw her.

  Pulse skipping, Hannah sprang to her feet, then hovered there, unsure how to greet him. She wanted to hug him. Because she’d missed him. Because he’d helped her. But that didn’t mean he felt warm and cozy toward her.

  Her arms had turned out on their own, though, and Jeff responded by opening his as well, and then he was hugging her hard. Her head tucked under his chin just as it always did when they embraced. She closed her eyes and listened to his heartbeat.

  “Thank you,” she said when she pulled away.

  “It was nothing,” he answered. “How are you doing?”

  “I don’t know, honestly.” The waitress came over to get his coffee order, and Hannah took the opportunity to study his face. He looked good. A little more tan than normal, as if he’d gotten back into running after the breakup. It was something he used to do every spring before giving up in the heat of the summer.

  He settled into his chair and met her gaze. “Still reeling?”

  “Yeah.”

  “It’ll take time to process.”

  He didn’t know the whole truth. She wanted to tell him. Wanted to share the burden. But she’d also have to share the guilt. What if he told her she had to notify the authorities? What if she was never ready for that?

  He reached out to pat her hand. “I’m looking for more in Mexico. I’ll let you know what I find.”

  “It’s all right,” she said quickly. “I confirmed that one of the women with him was named Cora. I’m sure I could find a marriage certificate somewhere to verify my grandmother’s name, but . . . I know Jacob Christo was Jacob Smith. I don’t have any doubts.”

  He nodded. He’d obviously come to the same conclusion.

  “Jesus,” she huffed. “What a strange world.”

  “People reach out to weird things when society is in flux.” The waitress brought his triple espresso, and Hannah winced. When Jeff looked up, they both smiled. He’d always been able to drink caffeine late into the evening and never have trouble sleeping. But every single time, she’d been convinced that this time would be disastrous.

  Hannah held up both hands. “Drink away. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

  “I have a three-hour-long lecture to get through!”

  “Better get another, then.”

  He clinked his cup against her decaf latte. “Welcome back to Chicago.”

  “Thanks. My meeting went well.”

  “What meeting?”

  Hannah held her breath for a moment. “I’ve been offered my old position.”

  Jeff’s eyebrows flew high. “Wow. I thought you were done with that.”

  “So did I. But I decided maybe I had more work to do.” She was talking about the job, but that wasn’t all she meant. She watched Jeff closely, but he only sipped his espresso and nodded.

  “That’s great. Did you accept?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Well, congratulations on the offer, regardless.” She knew he meant it, but there was a tiny edge to his words. A reminder that he’d asked for half of her settlement money. Now she was here talking about making more money and still pissed that he wanted what she had.

  Hannah cleared her throat. “How’s your brother?” she asked. “I saw some of the wedding pictures.”

  Jeff smiled. “Dan’s great. Really great. In fact, Alisha is pregnant.”

  “That’s wonderful!” she said brightly, her hollow response to anyone’s pregnancy news. But it wasn’t hollow for Jeff. He grinned in delight.

  “It is wonderful. He’s so close, I’ll get to be super involved. She’s due in September. I’m going to help them fix up the sunroom this summer. Turn it into a family room. Their place is a little small for all that baby gear. I can’t wait.”

  He’d been nearly this excited the last time one of his friends had had a baby, but there was a new spark in his eyes now. His only nieces and nephews had been Hannah’s family. He’d lost them in the split. And though he’d been nearly as awkward around older kids as Hannah was, he’d been great with babies.

  “It’s not too late for you, you know.” She wasn’t sure why she said it. As a test or maybe as a genuine wish for him. But after she spoke, her gut tightened into a painful knot.

  Jeff sipped his espresso with no hint of tension in his shoulders. If it was a test, he wasn’t worried about the grade. “Yeah.” He set the coffee down slowly. “I’ve been thinking that myself l
ately. Maybe it’s not too late for me.”

  And just like that, she knew. It was over between them. Really, truly over.

  All her thoughts of whether she wanted him back or whether she should have given motherhood a shot . . . all of them flew out the window of that coffee shop and up into the bright blue sky above the city. She actually glanced outside as if she could see them disappearing.

  It hadn’t just been her giving up on the relationship. It had been him too. For all his reassurances and promises, he hadn’t been content with their marriage either.

  She almost laughed. She almost threw her head back and let the bitter humor spill out, but if she did that, her laughter would turn to tears. Not sweet, sad tears either. But tired, angry, furious tears.

  Jeff had liked being married. He’d wanted children. And he’d loved Hannah. That had been her biggest crime. Letting Jeff fall in love with her. And letting them both believe that love would be enough.

  He’d talked her into marriage not because it was right for her, but because it was right for him. When he’d assured her that he’d never cared that much about having kids, maybe he’d meant it. Or maybe he’d hoped that she would settle into marriage and get a little softer. More nurturing. Less selfish.

  But that was the thing. That was the goddamn, giant, sparkling thing right in the middle of the room. Hannah had been agonizing her whole damn life about being selfish. Wanting life the way she wanted it. Needing the things she needed.

  So she was selfish. And so was everyone else.

  Jeff had wanted marriage and he’d gotten it. Her sisters had wanted husbands and children and houses and they’d had them. Yes, they put a lot of care into other people’s lives, but they did it because they wanted to. Because caring for others made them happy and fulfilled. They thrived on it, and Hannah didn’t.

  She’d tried to tell Jeff that from the start. That marriage scared her. That she would fail at it, even if she loved him. But her fears hadn’t dissuaded him from what he wanted.

  Jeff started talking about the plans for Dan’s sunroom, and Hannah let him talk, but she barely listened.