I nodded. “Oh, you have no idea,” I said with a laugh.
“Well, now we both can relax a little bit, I think. And that’s a great thing, since we’ll probably be seeing a lot of one another, now that Kate and Ray are staying here.”
That had been the “treat” that Kate had been referring to at the party on Christmas Eve. She and Ray had made the announcement that she’d been able to get permission to spearhead a branch of her company in Pensacola, which would mean that she would be moving back here. I was still pinching myself over the news, elated because I was getting my friend back. The plans were still in their early stages; but by the time she and Ray were married, Kate’s new job would be up and running.
“Yes, well. Only if there are no carrots involved,” I giggled.
Neil’s mouth twitched with the beginning of a grin, but he recovered and kept his face serious. “I think that can be arranged. How are you with broccoli?”
“You don’t want to know,” I said grimly. I may have been imagining things, but I felt as though I was fairly twinkling. The witty repartee we had going was completely unexpected, the free and easy conversation something that I didn’t anticipate when he’d asked for a seat at my table. I would have laid odds on the fact that anyone watching our exchange would have thought we were old friends.
“So how were your holidays?” I asked, trying to rein in the giddiness I was feeling.
It had been two weeks since I’d last seen Neil, at Kate’s parents’ house, and I was terribly curious to hear how he’d spent that time. Christmas and New Year’s seemed to be sucked into a vortex of activity and travel and food and people that somehow energized and exhausted its participants, and people regularly went MIA at various points along the way.
My own holidays had turned into an indescribable string of days spent with family and friends I hadn’t seen since Paul’s death. They no longer saw me as the broken young woman in the front pew at the memorial service, but as a survivor. And a happy one, at that. Even though I wasn’t in a relationship, even though I wasn’t at the place in my life I’d so long dreamed I’d be, I didn’t feel unfulfilled. I still had hope that one day I’d find true, lasting love of my own, but I also knew that it would happen when it was truly time. I could feel it coming. Perhaps I was being swept up by the spirit of possibility that seems to come with the Christmas season, but I no longer felt as though I was staring at the dead end of a road.
“Christmas was nice, once I got through all the hassle that comes from traveling on a holiday. I flew out Christmas Day to Virginia to see my parents, and I spent New Year’s there, too. Lots of family I haven’t seen in too long. You know how it is,” he said, drumming his finger tips on the green Formica tabletop. I noticed, not for the first time, how strong his hands looked. Strong and capable.
I nodded. Yes, I did know. And I knew too well how much regret could haunt us when the people we loved were no longer there.
“So, do you have a big family?”
“Pretty big, yeah,” Neil replied, smiling broadly. “My parents each have five siblings, and they have big families, as well. And then there are my three brothers, who seem to have continued the tradition of exponentially expanding the progeny. Between them, they have twelve.”
My eyes widened. “Wow. Twelve?” I could only imagine how rambunctious family gatherings would be. Quite a change from my own small family circle. “Wait, though. Does everyone live in Virginia? I thought you grew up here.” I was more than a little confused, but I was also very intrigued.
“I did. We did,” he said, nodding. He shifted in his chair, pulling one leg up to rest his ankle on top of his knee. “My dad was in the Air Force, and we were stationed here while I was growing up. My parents retired here, but then they decided to move back up to Virginia, where they’re both from. My brothers kind of scattered to the four winds after high school, going to colleges all over the country, and every year we sort of just converge on my parents. Unless, of course, something comes up and someone can’t make it.” He grimaced. “Namely me. You know, off somewhere in some other country.”
“Blowing up the bad guys,” I supplied with only the hint of a smile. “Merry Christmas.”
He laughed, that genuine, full sound I’d heard on the street when I’d first seen him. It was something I’d never realized how much I missed—the sound of a man’s laughter. While Ray was never hesitant to laugh at anything that warranted it (and, to be honest, quite a few things that didn’t), there was something different. Laughter is like a fingerprint, distinct to each person, but the sound of Ray’s laughter had never been particularly remarkable to me.
Paul’s laughter, conversely, had been notable. Not because it was a rare occurrence, but because of the sound. He’d had a wonderful laugh; and if I’d been hard pressed to describe it, I might have called it melodic. It was a sound that still resonated in my mind, as I knew it always would.
And now this man’s laughter caught my notice almost as quickly as his eyes did. The indisputable impression of authenticity it gave, as though he wasn’t someone who simply laughed for the sake of laughing. It was genuine, whole-hearted.
“Zoë?” he was saying.
“Hmm?” I blinked rapidly, feeling like someone had snapped their fingers in front of my face.
“Are you okay? You looked a little like you might cry.” Neil’s face registered deep concern, but there was no trace of panic at the possibility of me turning into a puddle of tears. Definitely something to be considered in his favor.
“Oh. Did I? No, no, I think there must be something in my eye.” I dabbed the corner of my eye with a fingertip, trying to make sure I didn’t smear any mascara while I was at it. “Dust, maybe.” I really hadn’t even realized that I might be registering anything on my face when I’d disappeared into my deeply reflective fog, but I also wasn’t terribly surprised. My mother always said I wore all of my emotions in my eyes.
Neil nodded silently, but he seemed unconvinced.
“Yes, well.” He straightened in his chair and cleared his throat. “So how do you like your new place?” he asked, trying another track of conversation.
I brightened, glad for the distraction of something besides what was going on in my strangely random thoughts right now. “It’s great. It was hard to get used to it, after being in the house for so long, but I’m adjusting. And the location is great, too,” I said, noticing the puzzled look on his face.
“The house?” Neil asked with a snort. “If you’re referring to Ray’s place as the house, then I’d hate to see what your old apartment was like.” He looked oddly amused, but I could see a trace of uncertainty that he might have insulted me.
“Uh, yeah,” I sniggered nervously. “Well, I guess you’re right. Ray’s place doesn’t even remotely resemble any kind of house. Except maybe a frat house after the party’s over,” I said weakly, dread washing over me. I had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that was something akin to being blindsided in the gut by a baseball bat. “Neil, what exactly did Ray tell you about me?”
I stared at Neil in disbelief, wondering how I should to handle my next moves. And what my next moves should even be. Did I have the right to tell him anything, or should I keep my mouth shut until I had a chance to confront Ray about all the secrets?
It made sense, now that I really thought about it, that he really wasn’t operating under full knowledge of who I was. That he assumed I was a friend of Ray’s who’d crashed at his—Ray’s—apartment for the last nine months. The man sitting across from me definitely didn’t act like someone who knew his home had been occupied by a stranger, whose life had been so laid bare by not only that fact, but also by the complete candor of his best friend. He had the easy manner of someone who thought he knew what he knew, secure and in control over how far he allowed you in.
I wanted so badly to tell him everything, to clear my conscience and face whatever would come of it. But I wasn’t in this alone. I wouldn’t be the only one aff
ected if I told Neil everything, and right now I wasn’t prepared to make a clear decision on my own.
“I just can’t believe you and Ray made it for so long in that hellhole he calls an apartment without wanting to kill each other,” Neil was saying. “I think I would’ve only made it a day or two before things turned ugly, and I’ve been to Iraq. Three times.” He shook his head, laughing. “I know you needed to get out of your place, but I do think you might need your head examined.”
I smiled wanly at him, both for the knowledge of what I wasn’t telling him, but also because I knew he was right. I needed my head examined.
Neil noticed the weakness of my smile, and his own was replaced by complete seriousness.
“I’m sorry. Really, I didn’t mean anything by that,” he said quickly.
“I know,” I said quietly, trying my best to be reassuring even though I felt so sick with apprehension. How was I supposed to live with this?
“Please, don’t worry about it, Neil. Really.”
I reached across the table to put my hand over his. The intimacy of such a simple gesture was startling, and I hurriedly pulled my hand back to my side of the table. But not before I saw the look of surprise on Neil’s face, a flicker so quick that it was nearly imperceptible.
He cleared his throat and nodded, his eyes never leaving mine. All traces of humor had disappeared, and the shift in the air around us was palpable.
“Well, I should probably get out of your hair and let you get back to your book.” Neil edged his chair back from the table and stood quickly, narrowly clearing the table in his haste.
I looked up at him, puzzled. Why did he feel the need to leave?
“No, no. You’re not keeping me from anything. I was actually glad for the company,” I said, hoping I didn’t sound too eager. Did I sound too eager?
And really, so what if I did? Why was I so worried?
“I think you’re just trying to make me feel better.” He cocked his head a little, the light in his eyes shifting just enough to make them seem more piercing. “And I really do have a few things I need to take care of, so sitting here would only be enabling me to procrastinate.” He wagged a finger at me. “Stop enabling, Zoë.”
“I’ll try,” I said solemnly.
“Do.”
With that, he was off. I watched him wind his way out of the café area, past my field of vision as he neared the front door of the bookstore. He gave the impression of someone comfortable in his own skin, a quiet confidence that allowed him to hold his head high and meet the eyes of anyone who looked his way. Neil was at a place I hadn’t quite reached yet, even though I knew I was close. I didn’t shrink from people’s gaze the way I had a year ago, afraid that they might see through to the gaping hole I felt. Granted, I wasn’t quite so secure that I welcomed staring contests with random strangers. But I could look them in the eye and smile with a little less uncertainty. I’d come a long way, and I was determined to continue making gains.
I wondered what Neil truly felt behind those storm-colored eyes of his. However much self-assurance as he showed, I knew that part of it was a wall. It was a defense mechanism maintained for so long that it was hardly noticeable to anyone who wasn’t looking for it. I knew it was there because I’d been building my own, brick by brick, day by day, since Paul’s death. It kept me safe and gave me the ability to interact with people without giving them insight to the fact that I was damaged goods.
In theory, the wall kept more damage from occurring and allowed life to be rebuilt. In theory, the wall was a wonderful idea. But in practice, it could end up costing a higher price than I was willing to pay.
My phone rang, nearly making me jump out of my skin. I’d been so lost in thought that I realized I was still staring after Neil, who’d long since left the room but still seemed to be haunting my brain.
I reached into the purse hanging askew from the back of my chair and pulled out the phone that was so determined to catch my attention.
“You have some explaining to do, Ray,” I said after flipping it open. “Much explaining.”
“Wow. What kind of greeting is that?” His disembodied voice sounded puzzled, yet strangely guarded. It made me wonder if he had more secrets in his closet that he wasn’t telling me.
I arched an eyebrow. “Right now, it’s exactly the one you deserve.” I was feeling both churlish and frustrated, and that sick sensation in the pit of my stomach seemed to be resurfacing.
“Zoë, you’re going to have to give me a little more to go on, here. Obviously, something’s bothering you, but I’m not a mind reader.”
To give him his due, the man did sound utterly perplexed. If he knew he was keeping something from me, why did he seem clueless when he was staring head-on at a confrontation? Most people with secrets get jumpy and defensive when anyone even seems to know something, but Ray seemed confused.
“I just had a lovely visit with Neil,” I started. “And—”
“And he thought you’d been staying with me, right?” Ray finished oh-so-helpfully.
“Care to tell me why he thinks that?” I demanded.
I could feel my face growing hot and my pulse quickening. This was all getting so out of control. The longer the lies went on, the harder they would all be to undo. I hadn’t signed up for any of this, and I wanted no part of it. My life was complicated enough without all the unnecessary deception.
“Zoë, I know I told you that I was going to tell him. And I was, I really was. But once we sat down, face-to-face, I just didn’t know how to do it. I guess I was chicken-shit.” Ray’s voice sounded thin, and I knew he hated having to admit to fear. I knew he was in a position he really didn’t want to be in, either, but he’d put himself there. So did I really owe him any sympathy right now?
No. I didn’t owe it, but I felt it.
“I can’t live like this, Ray. And I don’t think you can, either. We both owe him the truth, and if you can’t do it, I will.” I said it with more determination than I felt, but I knew it was the right thing to do. I was, after all, part of this, too. I had a responsibility to be honest, even though I had been the unsuspecting party in the entire charade. That was the point: I was still party to it.
And Neil was still in the dark about everything. That was going to have to change. I just had to figure out exactly how and when I was going to deal with all of this.
Chapter 28
There was a new scratch on Neil’s front door, and I wondered where it had come from. Not that it was really any of my business anymore, but idle curiosity and my keen sense of awareness demanded that I gave it at least a moment’s attention. Plus, I was trying to put off ringing the doorbell for as long as possible while I decided how I was actually going to do this.
How was I going to do this?
I cracked the knuckles on my right hand—something I do only under an extreme case of nerves. I glared at the doorbell, really wishing I could just turn around and walk away from all of this. Somehow, though, all of this had become part of my life. My messy, broken-but-healing, chaotic life.
And there was no way to walk away from all of it. Because as much as I would have liked things to be simpler, they rarely turned out that way. Walking away would have meant turning my back on everything I had learned and all the people who had taught me those things, and I really couldn’t imagine doing that. I needed these people too much; more than that, I wanted them too much.
Neil was just an extension of the life I wanted. He was like one of the edge pieces on a puzzle—sure, you could have a great puzzle even if you were missing one of those bordering pieces. It didn’t really interrupt the flow of the picture the way, say, a middle piece would, but it still left the puzzle incomplete. You could cover that missing piece up with a picture frame, but it would still be missing. That one little thing would stand in the way of completion.
The puzzle of my life was constructed by my closest friends and family, even the ones I had lost, each piece interlocking to form an in
tricate picture. Kate and Ray were key pieces, so fundamentally important, that I knew being alienated from another important part of their life would be impossible. Which was why I was here now, standing at the front door of Neil’s house, getting ready to ring the doorbell and tell him everything.
I reached out and touched the button on the doorbell, tentatively at first and then with force enough to actually elicit a sound. I heard it echo through the small house, alerting Neil of my presence.
The door opened before I was ready, before I’d had time to breathe. And then I was robbed of all possibility of breath.
I wasn’t looking into Neil’s eyes, but those of a complete stranger. We stood face-to-face on the front steps of Neil’s house with nothing between us but all of the unspoken questions I had swelling in my throat.
He had a darkly shadowed jaw, this man who stood so proprietarily in the doorway, sizing me up as though I was the one who did not belong here. His dark hair was short and wet, suggesting a recent shower, and I smelled a hint of cologne—a fresh, clean smell that made me want to reach out and bury my nose in his shirt. It was an absurd impulse, of course, since he was a stranger. A handsome stranger, as I was quickly realizing, but still.
This was not a laundry detergent commercial or an ad for men’s cologne, so chances were slim that something like that would be well received.
“Um, who are you?” I blurted in surprise, completely forgetting every bit of manners my mother had instilled in me since childhood.
Mr. Freshly Showered Stranger Guy crossed well-toned arms over his chest and cocked an eyebrow at me, his deep green eyes narrowing in suspicion.
“I could ask the same of you, but I might pose the question in a slightly less hostile format.” He leaned forward slightly, perhaps to let me in on a little secret. “It tends to make a better first impression, you know?” he asked, offering a mischievous smile.
I detected a slight accent that I could only place somewhere in the Northeastern region of the country, but I would have been hard-pressed to nail it down more specifically than that. I was leaning toward New York State somewhere.
Coming Home to You Page 22
