by Sophie Gunn
He walked away from the window, and she exhaled in relief. He leaned against the porch railing facing the lawn, his back to her, and now she wished she could see his face. “My name is Dante Giovanni and I’m from Queens. I’ve lived and worked there my whole life. I used to own a few buildings. Nothing fancy, just apartment rentals. But they paid the bills. I managed them, too. Which is why I know how to fix stuff.”
She crept to the window.
He didn’t turn.
She willed him to turn. She wanted to see his face, to read it.
He turned, and she ducked under the sill, not wanting to see his face, her back rigid against the wall, her breath coming quickly. Was she five years old playing hide-and-seek? She did feel like a little kid listening to a good bedtime story; she was hooked, dying to know what was with this guy.
“Eleven months ago, I ran a red light. I killed a woman named Linda Goodnight. It was the worst moment of my life, which is stupid because of course it was much worse for Linda.”
“Oh.”
They both observed an unofficial moment of silence, holding their phones tightly. His story hit her like a punch in the gut. She thought about peeking out the window again, but she was riveted to her spot on the floor.
He went on. “It was entirely my fault. I was thinking of other things, preoccupied. It was just dumbass stupid.” His voice lowered. “I can never take back that moment, that day. It was a mistake. There are no excuses. Sometimes I think it could have happened to anyone. Other times, I think it happened to me—and to Linda—for a reason. Afterward, I didn’t know what to do, but I knew I couldn’t keep living my life the way I was living it. I was crushed by the guilt. I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat. The DA didn’t press charges—called it an accident without aggravating circumstances. Linda didn’t have much of a family, so no one filed a civil suit. So that was it: I was off scot-free.”
“I didn’t realize that could happen,” Lizzie said. She had never thought about traffic accidents, lawyers, any of it. What did happen when you screwed up for a split second?
In her case, she got pregnant.
By comparison, her case sounded pretty good.
“The law allows for accidents,” he said with deep sadness, as if it were a shame, a terrible weakness. “I was told by the EMTs on the scene that the people in charge of this sort of thing take pity on people like me who accept blame, show remorse, don’t usually screw up. So I wasn’t punished. Thing was, I wanted to be punished. Begged for it, even. But if no one presses charges, well, that’s it as far as the law’s concerned. I went back to my life like nothing had happened. But something had happened.”
Lizzie tried to imagine herself in his position. What would she have done? How would she have faced Paige? What if it had happened to Paige? She’d learn to drive in a few years. Those beginning years were the hardest. Anything could happen. Did it have to ruin your life?
“I think about Linda Goodnight every minute of every day. It’s like a huge ocean that I can’t cross no matter how hard I swim. It was like it happened for nothing, or never happened at all. Like Linda never existed. No one cared. The DA told me to get psychological help. My friends told me to get over it, go on with my life and I’d get back to normal. I tried that for a while, but it didn’t work. I wanted the accident to matter. It’s hard to explain, but I knew that if I didn’t do something, I’d never get over it. But I didn’t have a clue what to do. My girlfriend left me. My friends grew sick of me. I don’t have much of a family, so at least I couldn’t piss them off.”
Lizzie could hear his breath. Hear her own breath. She was riveted, entranced. Lizzie imagined her car sailing through a red light. It was the kind of mistake she’d made once or twice in her life. She’d even gone through a red light once downtown right after she’d given birth to Paige, when she was overwhelmed with hormones and grief over Ethan’s splitting on them. Luckily, no one had been coming the other way when she ran that light. It was the kind of thing that could happen to anyone, that did happen to anyone, and yet most people got lucky and it came to nothing. Maybe a fender bender. An irate driver leaning on his horn and giving the finger.
But what if she hadn’t been so lucky? What if it had changed her life?
She knew a thing or two about single moments that changed a person’s life forever.
At least Tay was being honest. At least he seemed up front. At least he cared that he had done a terrible thing and was trying to figure out how to make it right. How did you make something like that right? Was it even possible?
He went on. “I spent a few months serving slop at soup kitchens, helping little old ladies with their groceries, doing whatever I could think of. But even if it made me feel better for a moment, after, it made me feel even worse.”
“You don’t have any family?” Lizzie asked. She was holding her breath.
“Not really. I was dating someone. I thought we were going to get married. But she left me when I stopped being fun. She thought I should just get over it. I have a sister in California, but we were never close. My parents are both gone. The less fun I got, the more my friends melted away.”
Lizzie wondered if he couldn’t kiss his ex-girlfriend either. The possibility made her feel better—which of course made her feel guilty.
But her guilt was nothing compared to his.
“Then, a month ago, I saw an article in the paper about Linda’s daughter, Candy Williams.”
“You just happened to see it?” Lizzie asked.
“I was following her story. I couldn’t help it. I needed to know what happened to her. She was the only link left. The only other person on this earth who gave a shit.”
“I give a shit.”
He didn’t say anything.
Lizzie wondered if she’d gone too far. Why had she said that? Did she care about this man?
Was he even still there?
She peeked. “Go on.”
“Right.” His voice was calm, steady. “Candy was about to get kicked out of school because she couldn’t afford it anymore and she was too in debt from her mother’s bad financial planning to take out any school loans.”
“Her mother didn’t have any insurance?” Lizzie asked.
“A little, but her piles of debt ate it up. At least, that’s what the paper said. Linda Goodnight lived beyond her means in a big way. I think Candy still does, too. Anyway, the girl goes to Galton.”
That explained his presence in town, which relieved her. He wasn’t just a wanderer. “There’s no dad?”
“No. At least, that’s what the paper said,” he said. “I saw this as my chance to repay at least a little for what I’d done. Give her money to stay in school. Buy her some time to get over her loss.”
Lizzie pressed the phone closer to her cheek. She didn’t want to miss a word. She was aware that Tay’s story was paralleling her own—a daughter without a father, a man come to repay a debt, to ask forgiveness for the unforgivable.
She didn’t like it. Jill had struck a chord with her dissent to Lizzie’s plan: She didn’t want to forgive Ethan completely.
And yet, she liked Tay. There was an honor in his caring about a girl he didn’t even know, in his trying to make it right.
Did that mean Ethan’s visit held a certain kind of honor?
No, it wasn’t the same. She had to stop comparing the two men.
“I cut out that article. Carried it around for days. Looking at that picture of Candy was like looking into my own personal war zone. I couldn’t eat. Couldn’t sleep. It was as if the accident had happened all over again. On the fourth day, I sold my buildings for cash to the first buyer I could find. I tried to contact Candy, but she wouldn’t take my calls. I sent her a check, but she never cashed it. Sent her another and she sent it back ripped to shreds. So finally, I bought this old truck, put some money in a duffel bag, and drove here to try to fix things in person.”
Lizzie thought about how slowly he had driven away from her house that first morning. How he ha
d stopped at the end of her street, his blinker going on and on and on. How slowly he did everything. He was dragging the weight of that girl, of her mother, of his guilt. But what did it have to do with her? “Driving sounds like the last thing you should be doing,” Lizzie said.
His voice was cold and steady. “You want to know what people think is really rotten? You want to piss off every red-blooded American no matter if they're liberal or conservative, black or white, Christian or Buddhist? It’s easy: Drive slow. I’ve never been so despised. Even sitting on the curb, watching the EMT guys take Linda Goodnight away, people felt sorry for me. They were kind. It was like something horrible had happened to me, which of course made everything worse. But drive slow, well, I’ll take you for a ride sometime and you’ll see what folks think of me. I just can’t bear to speed up. Something happens to me. I panic. It took me three days to drive here from New York City. Should have taken me three hours.”
“Maybe you like the abuse,” she suggested. “After all, you came here to meet the daughter of the woman who you…” Lizzie couldn’t say it. “To meet Candy.”
“Yeah. When I told her I was coming to town, she flipped out. Said no way would she see me. Finally, though, she gave in. She agreed to a meeting at the diner. But it didn’t go so well.”
Lizzie waited, her heart pounding. She wanted to stand up, to look at him, but she didn’t dare move lest she startle him away. “Did she take your money?”
“She said she didn’t want it, but I left it with her anyway, right in your diner, actually.”
“The day with the toast.”
“Yep, the day I couldn’t eat the toast. I hoped she wouldn’t have a choice. She told me she’d throw it off a bridge.”
Lizzie thought of the money Annie found. Was it part of Tay’s money? But Annie hadn’t found enough money to keep a girl in school. Or had she? Annie had never said how much money she’d found. But surely, she’d have said if it was enough money to keep a girl at Galton. Lizzie peeked over the windowsill. Tay was sitting on the top step, his back to her, his head low. His torso formed a perfect V. “Did she do it?”
“Yep. I had lost her for a while that morning that I gave her the money, but when I saw her later, she said the money was with the fishes. So then, I was really stuck. I had come all this way and I hadn’t achieved a thing but lose everything I had. Which, in a way, helped a little. Felt good for a while. Really good. But it didn’t last. I pretended that I was her uncle and called the school. They told me she’ll be kicked out next semester if she doesn’t pay. But there’s nothing I can do about that now. I don’t have that kind of money anymore.”
“So why are you sticking around?”
“I thought I’d leave town, just keep driving, figure out something else. But first I need to get that money back, in case Candy changes her mind.” He paused.
“The map is of the gorges to search?”
“Yep.”
“Okay.”
“I’m a simple guy, Lizzie. I need two things: a way to make this right for Candy, and a way to get through the days until I do. That’s why I’m fixing your fence. It’s not because I feel sorry for you. I don’t. I think you’re amazing. If I had half of what you have, I’d be a happy man.”
She thought about the worst day of her life: Ethan walking off the porch and never coming back.
And yet, Tay was right. She was happy most of the time.
Her bad day didn’t even come close to his.
Tay was still talking. “Look, Elizabeth, I’m not nuts. I don’t believe hearing your wish was a message from God or fate or the universe. I’m not a stalker; I just saw your name and address on that envelope that must have been from Paige’s father and it stuck in my head. I don’t think of this as charity. I’m just trying to figure out what to do next and I’m kinda stuck in this town for a while and there you were, wishing for someone to fix your place. So I thought, Hey, why not stick around and fix whatever that lady needs fixing? Not like I’ve got anything better to do. The work eases my mind. It helps me get to the next day. That’s all I’m trying to do. Get to the next day.” He paused. “I’m sorry if I hurt you. It’s not about you. It’s me.”
Was he referring to their kiss or to fixing her house? She wasn’t sure.
She asked, “So how do you support yourself now that all your money is gone?” She tried to imagine how much money a person got for a couple of buildings in Queens, but she didn’t have a clue.
“I got a job on campus. Mowing lawns. Landscaping, they call it. At first, I was afraid that Candy would see me. But actually, it’s the perfect disguise. No one notices the workmen. We just planted a thousand mums for Parents’ Day.”
They were both silent. Lizzie imagined Candy on Parents’ Day, without any parents. She guessed he was doing the same.
“It’s not full-time, but it’s something. I suspect that pretty soon, it’ll be shoveling snow. I got a place down by the lake for a few weeks. Just until I figure out what to do about the money.”
“I know about your house.”
“You do?”
“I was birding and I saw you there. I was looking for a herons’ nest.”
“I know where it is. I’ve seen them.”
“I thought they were gone for the season.”
“I imagine they will be soon.”
He knows what a heron is. Their conversation paused as she thought about him alone in the woods, watching the pair of birds tend to their nest, encouraging their young to fly so they could set off for the South before it was too late.
She wasn’t the one who was alone, wandering, needing charity. He was.
No, not charity. Human kindness.
There was a difference.
Maybe this was her opportunity to fix him. So they’d be equal. But what could she do to ease his guilt? She’d have to think about it.
“What if you can’t find the money?” she asked.
“I have no idea,” he said.
“I’m sorry,” she said. She meant it.
“Yeah, so am I.”
She took a deep breath, then opened the front door. “Tay.”
He looked up. God, those eyes. He was the perfect man. Or at least, at some point in his life, he had been. The scar on his cheek would never go away. What about the other scars she couldn’t see?
“You want some coffee?”
He looked at her, then clicked his phone closed. “I’m sorry I kissed you, Lizzie. In that bar. It was a mistake. I’m not ready for anything like that—”
“Neither am I,” she said. But she was lying. She wanted him to come in, and to take her in his arms—and he’d said no. She pretended not to be hurt. Good thing she was pretty good at that.
“I came back today because I want to make sure we’re straight,” he said. “I wanted to tie up everything here.”
“We’re straight.”
“So can I finish fixing your fence? Then I’ll go.”
“Then you’ll go.” His rejection of her offer to come in stung her, but she held her head up, her eyes and voice steady.
“I’ll try to finish while you’re gone. I might have to come back tomorrow, though, for a second coat.”
She picked up her purse off the table. She was going to be late now and really had to leave. “Thanks, Tay, for telling me your story.”
“I wanted you to know it wasn’t you. It’s me. I’m not normal. I have to leave here as soon as I can. For Candy’s sake. It’s not right for her to have to worry about running into me.”
“Right.” But I thought we don’t like normal. “See you around,” she said, locking the door behind her, leaving him on the porch.
She had to use all her energy not to look back.
CHAPTER
20
Annie planned to let herself and Meghan into Lizzie’s house to rehide the money in a better spot. She had been trying to get back to the house all week. But every time she had come by, Lizzie or Paige had been there. Or Judy R
oth, that nosy neighbor, had been out front in her rose garden or sweeping the front walk and had made a beeline for her, or rather, for Meghan.
Now, Judy was nowhere in sight, but Annie had forgotten about Lizzie’s mysterious morning fix-it man.
Holy cow, he really was gorgeous. More than gorgeous—stunning. The way he bent over that fence. Narrow waist, broad shoulders, strong, tanned hands…
Now what? If Meghan would start crying, she could claim she needed to go in to get her a snack.
Meghan cooed and smiled, kicking her adorable chubby legs in the crisp fall air.
“Hello. You must be the frightening fix-it man.” Annie stopped by Tay’s side at the base of the steps.
He looked up, put down his scraper, shook his head as if clearing it of fog, and said, “Handsome fix-it man, I believe is the term of choice.”
She smiled. “I’m Lizzie’s big sister.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Lizzie’s big sister.” He didn’t hold out a hand.
“Annie.”
“Annie.”
“Is Lizzie here?” Annie asked as innocently as she could.
“Nope. She just left for work.”
The guy wasn’t a talker. That was good. “Well, I gotta run inside and get Meghan’s sweater. I left it here. Silly me! Fall is really here.” She shivered unconvincingly and pushed Meghan to the porch stairs. She unstrapped her, scooped her out of the stroller, and hurried up the stairs. She could feel his eyes on her back. For the first time, she understood why Lizzie was so anxious to get rid of this guy. She really shouldn’t have tried to encourage Liz to keep him around.
Once inside, she worked as quickly as she could. She got the money out of the chute, took it to the basement, moved aside the boxes of their parents’ old stuff that Lizzie had stowed down there, looking for the old record player that was set in a filigreed maple cabinet. When she finally uncovered it under bags of her mother’s old sewing supplies, she opened the cabinet and stuffed the money inside. She used to hide her stashes of pennies and other treasures in this record player cabinet when she was a kid. No one would ever look in there. She put everything back the way it had been, glad that the baby couldn’t talk. Mommy played with her money bag today at Auntie Lizzie’s…
