He glanced at the clock. He had a little bit of time before he had to pick up Ted and take him to his appointment. Because no matter what happened with him and Tate, he’d never let her family down.
He peeked into his mom’s bedroom and frowned when she wasn’t there. Then he checked her bathroom, which was empty. Finally he found her in the basement, reaching for something on a shelf.
“Mom!”
He hadn’t realized she was standing on a stool and at the sound of his voice, she started and almost fell off. “Camilo!” she said with a shaky hand to her chest. “Why on earth are you shouting?”
He was at her side in seconds to steady her so she didn’t fall. “What’re you doing down here? If you needed something, I couldn’t have gotten it for you.”
She pressed her lips together. “Yes, I realize that. But I was capable of walking down the stairs, stepping on a stool and getting a roll of paper towels.”
“I didn’t say you weren’t capable.”
She stepped down off the stool slowly, the roll of towels tucked under her arm. He followed her up in the stairs to the kitchen as she placed the paper towel roll on its silver holder by the sink. “You’ve been such a huge help to me already this summer. Between doing things around the house and the extra money, but I don’t want to rely on you forever.”
He took a step closer, leaning a hip on the counter. “Why not?”
She faced him. “Because you’ll leave this fall. You’ll take that job, and you’ll live your life.”
“Mom—”
“I’m glad you came home after graduation. It’s been wonderful to wake up every day with you in the house. You can’t know how much it means to me that you did this. But I can’t be the reason you stay here. I just can’t.”
He reached for her hand. “Ma . . .”
“This where you tell me you’re grateful to your single mama for raising you?”
He shook his head. “This is where I tell you again how unfair it was when I got grounded when I was six for cutting our cat’s whiskers off.”
She scowled. “He kept walking into walls, you hooligan.”
Cam laughed. “Okay, so other than the grounding thing—”
“You were a bad boy sometimes.”
“—I’m grateful, Ma. And I guess I wanted to show you that. By being here for you.”
She smiled and stepped closer, gripping his forearms in her hands. “And I get that, Camilo. But the best way to repay me is for you to be happy doing what you love. If that’s here, bouncing in a bar? Fine. But if it’s not, and you want to take that job, then you take it. You understand?”
He lucked out with a great ma. “Yeah, I understand.”
She squeezed her hands and then released him. “Good. And all I ask is that before you go, I’d like you to help look into moving somewhere cheaper. A small apartment, all on one floor. That would cut expenses so my disability check would stretch farther. I looked into a couple of places already.”
Sure they rented this place, but still, they’d lived here for over ten years. “No problem, Ma.”
She smiled. “You’re a good man.”
He hugged her and pressed a kiss to her temple.
A glance at the clock told him he needed to leave to pick up Ted.
“Need to run to get Ted. You’ll be okay? Not sure if I’ll be home for dinner.”
She paused and did that thing where she ran her tongue over her teeth, like she was searching for the words.
He waved a hand. “Out with it. What do you need to say?”
She glared, like it annoyed her he could read her. Then she huffed. “You need to think about the long-term repercussions of getting involved in Tate’s life again.”
Oh great, this again. He clenched his jaw. “I’m not—”
She pointed a finger at him, “Yes, you are. You’re helping her out and making her rely on you. Now, I’ve never been that girl’s biggest fan. I’ll be the first to admit I think you two were too young to be as involved as you were. But now you’re adults. And you need to think about what it means to be doing what you’re doing with her.”
“I’m here so I should help—”
“But why you—”
“Because I should have been there this whole fucking time, Ma!” he shouted and winced when his mom jolted at the sound of his voice. “Because I left and her life went to hell and even if she made choices that contributed to that, she didn’t make her dad get cancer. She deserves a break.”
She raised her chin in the wake of his outburst. “I’m not saying she doesn’t deserve a break. But you need to think about how that weight is going to feel like double on her shoulders when you leave again.”
The guilt nearly choked him. “Well, I can’t do anything about that right now. I’m here and I can’t just stand by now.”
She patted his shoulder. “I know. But just think about it.”
He didn’t. On the drive over, he blasted music and thought about getting drunk later so he didn’t have to think about it.
At the Ellisons’, Cam parked in the empty driveway—both Tate and Jamie appeared to be at work—and walked to the front door. He knocked once and heard a muffled “Come in.”
The doorknob turned, and Cam frowned at it when he noticed the screws were a little loose. He’d have to tighten them later.
“Hello?” he called, shutting the door behind him.
“Bathroom. Be out in a minute!” Ted called back.
Cam stuck his hands in the pockets of his shorts and grabbed an apple from a basket on the kitchen counter. He bit into the crisp fruit and chewed as he walked around, checking out the pictures framed on the wall.
There were still the pictures of all the homecoming dances he’d taken Tate to. And the prom. The graduation picture where they stood laughing under the archway of their school in red and black gowns.
Some new ones had been added, but the difference was noticeable. A couple of pictures from holidays, it looked like. In them, Jamie’s eyes weren’t as bright. Ted was losing weight. And Tate . . . she never looked at the camera. And she wasn’t smiling.
Cam walked back to their prom picture. He’d rented an all-black tux and Tate had worn an emerald dress, her whole look like something out of Breakfast at Tiffany’s. They’d won prom king and queen their senior year. And Cam smiled sadly thinking of how they’d danced together with their plastic crowns.
“Taking a little stroll down memory lane, huh?” said a gruff voice from behind him.
Cam turned around as Ted walked slowly down the hall toward him. The older man jerked his chin toward the pictures. “Tate tried to take them all down a year or so ago. But we realized the paint had faded and none of us wanted to paint again, so we left them up. I’m glad. I like looking at ’em.”
Cam resisted flinching at the thought of Tate wanting to take down all the pictures. But then, he couldn’t blame her. He’d ripped them all off his walls and shoved them into a shoebox. He’d wanted to burn them, but his mom had intervened.
“Good choice,” Cam mumbled, and walked into the kitchen to throw his apple core away. He washed his hands and walked back out to the living room. “How ya feeling?”
“Same shit, different day,” Ted grunted. He’d said that for as long as Cam could remember, so it made him smile.
“You ready?” he asked.
Ted walked toward the front. “Already ahead of ya.”
Cam ducked his head and smiled bigger.
Ted was quiet on the drive, lost in thought. Cam fretted that maybe he was in pain, or feeling sick, or a multitude of other things, but the guy was a grown man. If he wanted to talk about it, he’d start the conversation.
So Cam kept silent, fussing with the CD player. And it wasn’t until twenty minutes into their forty-minute drive that Ted spoke up.
“I need you to help Tate with Jamie.” Ted’s voice was so low, Cam barely heard him.
“I’m sorry?”
Ted cupped his k
nees and then ran his hands up and down his thighs. His jaw worked. “Tate doesn’t hide things as well as she thinks she does. I know Jamie’s not been himself lately.”
Cam tongued his cheek. Jamie was worse than just “not himself.” But Cam didn’t want to say too much and betray Tate’s confidence, but he did think Ted had a right to know what was going on. He chose to stay silent.
Ted sighed. “I’ve tried to talk to him, but he avoids me. He comes home when I’m at appointments or when he knows I’m resting.” He shook his head. “I got sick at a bad time. When he really needed a father who was present. I think he’s angry and lost, and I wish I knew how to help him.”
Cam tapped the steering wheel. “Do you want me to talk to him?”
Ted looked over and nodded. “Yes, I’d like that. He always listened to you.”
Cam didn’t think he had sway over Jamie anymore, but he held his tongue.
Ted continued. “I know you and Tate are . . . well . . . not what you were. So if you don’t want to do it for her, then do it for me.”
Cam didn’t even have to think about it. “I’ll do it for all of you.”
Ted stared at the side of his face, and Cam resisted meeting his eyes, because he wasn’t sure he wanted to see what was in those watery hazel eyes.
“You grew up into a good man, Camilo Ruiz.” Ted patted his shoulder.
And Cam had to blink at the prickle in his eyes. Would Ted still think that if he’d seen how Cam treated Tate the other night? Shit, this was hard being back.
“I told Tate you’d want to know Jamie is . . . not himself,” Cam muttered.
Ted licked his lips and his eyes shifted. It was minutes before he spoke again. “My girl means well, but she’s going to have to learn she can’t keep making decisions for everyone else.”
Those eyes bored into his temple and when Cam risked a glance at him, Ted’s eyes were piercing, like he was trying to convey more than just what his words meant.
But Cam couldn’t read minds. And he didn’t get it.
And by the time they’d reached the doctor, he hadn’t gotten up the nerve to ask Ted to elaborate.
Chapter 11
“TATE?” CAM CALLED into the house. He’d dropped off Ted at the clinic, and the doctor had said Ted would have to stay overnight. Ted told Cam he didn’t need a ride home and that he’d call Anne so Tate wouldn’t have to worry about it.
Cam picked up his phone to text Tate to tell her, but he hesitated. He hadn’t seen her since the previous week, and this was a good excuse to check on her. He called himself a fool about fifty times on the drive to Tate’s house, but that didn’t stop him from pulling into her driveway, turning off his truck, and heading to her front door.
Cam knocked and listened for an answer. Instead, he heard raised voices. He turned the doorknob and found it unlocked. So he stepped inside and followed the voices until he reached the back of the house. Through the sliding glass door, he saw Tate and Jamie on the back porch, facing off to each other, bodies tense.
“You’re out of control!” Tate yelled. “It took me a week to be able to corner you long enough to have a five-minute conversation with you. You think I don’t have enough to deal with? I have to worry about you drinking and getting arrested now?”
Jamie fluttered his lips. “Fuck you. You act like you’re so perfect but you’re just as fucked up as me.”
Tate threw out a hand. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Cam backed away, thinking he should leave the siblings to argue in peace, but Jamie’s next statement stopped him cold.
“Don’t get preachy at me when everyone knows you’re just a cheating slut.”
Tate reared back like she’d been slapped.
And Cam was out the door. He didn’t even shut it behind him as he bore down on a Jamie who looked equal parts furious and terrified.
But Cam didn’t give a fuck. He hoped Jamie pissed himself.
Cam backed Jamie against the railing and leaned down so their faces were inches away. When he spoke, he kept his tone even but no less deadly. “Don’t you ever, ever speak to your sister like that again. Apologize to her. Right now.”
Jamie’s eyes shifted beyond Cam’s shoulder, but the sight of his shattered sister must not have been enough for him to grow a fucking conscience. “I don’t need to apologize to her when it’s the truth—”
“Jamie. Apologize right the fuck now.”
The kid gathered some courage from somewhere and straightened his spine. “You of all people should be happy someone finally said to her—”
Cam leaned even closer, using all his willpower not to knock Jamie out with a fist. “No, in fact, I’m not happy. I’m not happy at all. Unless a woman is your wife or your girlfriend, it’s not your concern who she gets into bed with.”
“But she cheated —”
“And that’s between her and me. No one else. If I hear you use that word in your sister’s direction again, swear to God, you won’t like the consequences. Do you hear me?”
Jamie gulped and his eyes shifted again to his sister. Cam took a step back and followed his gaze.
Tate stood in the same spot, her face white, her entire body slack, like she barely had strength to hold herself up. She stared at them, but her eyes were blank, like she wasn’t really seeing anything.
“I don’t want to apologize,” Jamie said, and Cam whipped his head to face him again. Jamie kept his eyes on his sister as he spoke. “You did what you did and made him leave.” And then Jamie whirled on Cam. “And you. You didn’t fight. You didn’t fight for her. You left. You just us.” He jabbed his finger into Cam’s chest on the last word and then took off into the house, slamming the door behind him.
A minute later, Cam heard the sound of Jamie’s car starting up, and the squeal of tires as he took off down the street.
Cam stared at the door and then took a deep breath as he turned to Tate. She still hadn’t moved. She stared at the place Jamie had been standing.
“Tate?”
Nothing.
“Tate?”
Finally she looked at him and blinked. But then her eyes went big and dark and so full of pain, he thought maybe it had been better when she had looked blank.
“How’s dad?” she asked, her eyes a little unfocused.
“He’s fine. He said he’d call Anne to give him a ride home tomorrow.”
Tate nodded. “Good, that’s good.” She sucked in a shaky breath. “I have to . . .” she waved a hand and walked unsteadily into the house. Cam followed her, cursing himself for staying, for overhearing that conversation, for feeling sympathy for Tate.
When he entered her bedroom, she was perched on the end of the bed, staring at her blank TV.
“Are you going to be okay?”
Her jaw worked. “I didn’t . . . I didn’t think about Jamie. That he’d find out.”
He sighed. “Small town. People talk.”
She dropped her head and stared at her hands in her lap. “He hates me now.”
“He doesn’t hate you—”
“He called me a slut—”
Cam clenched his jaw and spoke through gritted teeth. “And I’ll have a talk with him about that—”
“It doesn’t matter,” she whispered.
“It does matter. He can’t talk to you like that.”
“What’s done is done.”
The finality of her words pierced his chest. He took another step toward her even though he wanted to take a step out of the room. “Something you did four years ago doesn’t define you. That’s not all you are.”
“It’s not?” Tate looked up at him, her expression full of hope and he didn’t know what the hope was for. He wanted to be in her life, but he couldn’t go down that road again. He needed to get out of here.
He backed up toward the door. “Look, no offense but if you want to give an explanation just to ease your conscience, I got better things to do—”
“I’m not trying
to give an explanation—”
“Good, because I don’t want details—”
She slammed her fists down into the mattress and yelled, “Well that’s good! There are no details, because I didn’t do it!”
Cam froze, resting his weight back on the ball of one foot. “What did you just say?”
She wasn’t looking at him. Instead she was staring at that damn TV again. “I didn’t do it.”
The words were clearer this time. Louder. And Cam knew this was one of those moments. A life-changing moment. Where he could stay and hear her out, get pulled back into her life. Or he could leave. Go back to the way he’d accepted his life. Without her.
His body rocked, back toward the door, forward. If he lowered his heel to the ground, he’d keep walking backward. He’d leave.
But his heart, his foolish heart that wanted to hear her out, pulled him forward and then he was sinking down onto the bed beside her. They sat in silence until Cam spoke. “Well, I guess I’m going to need an explanation now.”
She stared ahead as she talked, and every word was like a baseball bat slamming into his gut. “Dad had just been diagnosed with cancer. And I couldn’t call you at basic. And . . . all I could think about was that I was going to have to stay here. In Paradise. I couldn’t leave and go to college with you. But . . . I wanted you to stay on track. I wanted you to finish school and get a great job and . . .” She took a deep breath. “I didn’t know how I was going to convince you of that. I know you and I knew if I told you, you’d come home. That’s the last thing I wanted. So I went to this stupid, stupid party.” She shook ahead and dropped her eyes to her lap again. “And this guy was really drunk and hitting on me and I was drunk and I let him lead me to the bedroom.” She twitched her lips. “I’ll be honest that I thought about sleeping with him. He leaned in and kissed my neck and that’s when it hit me that this was wrong. It was so wrong. So I shoved him back and told him no. And then he threw up on me, and fell on the bed and passed out. Just”—she giggled softly—“passed right the fuck out.”
“That’s . . . gross.” Cam wasn’t sure what else to say about it.
Make It Last Page 9
