Once Gwen was in her car, the tears had dried, and a new resolve had formed in her chest. She drove to the nearest park and stopped in the shade. She first sent a text to Seth.
I heard part of your discussion with your dad. And I have to agree with him. I don’t fit in your life, and relationships are hard enough when parents are supportive. Please don’t contact me. I’ll see you at work, but that’s it.
She turned her phone on silent, and about twenty minutes later, the texts started up from Seth. But she didn’t open any of them. It was time to stop living in other people’s lives and take care of her own. She pulled up another number she hadn’t thought she’d ever call again. She pressed SEND.
On the second ring, it was answered.
“Hi, Mom.”
Three weeks had passed since the disastrous lunch at Seth’s house, and since Gwen’s phone call with her mom. Since then, Gwen had talked to one or both of her parents almost every day. They had a lot of catching up to do. And it was nice, which surprised Gwen. She hadn’t gone to see them yet, because she was still getting used to talking to them again and including them in her life.
Although with every conversation, she couldn’t help but remember how Seth had told her that when she was ready, he’d love to meet her parents.
Gwen had barely said hi to Seth at the restaurant since that final text. She’d called in sick for two days, and Seth had left messages and texted her several times; but she’d already said what she’d wanted to say. And it was the same thing she’d been saying from the beginning. He’d chosen to stay in his parents’ world, and she would not make Seth choose between her and his parents.
She’d told Alicia what had happened, of course, and instead of trying to give her advice, Alicia had become a buffer at the restaurant.
At work, Seth had been respectful, although Gwen had half expected him to follow her to her car after closing. She’d caught his gaze on her more than once, but she kept her chin up and focused on the customers. Alicia had her back, and Gwen’s relationship with her parents was on the mend. That would have to be enough.
But every night after work she returned to her apartment exhausted. Exhausted from pretending she was okay, that she could move on, that Seth hadn’t meant anything to her. But she also had her pride. Mostly. So she’d call her mom, even though it was midnight, and they’d talk about nothing and everything. After talking to her mom, Gwen went to sleep feeling better.
Gwen would be seeing her parents today. She told them she’d come to their new house after the lunch hour at the homeless shelter. Gwen hadn’t seen Seth at the shelter the past three weeks. It was just as well, although now there was a fully functioning air conditioning system to remind her of him. He hadn’t forgotten about his promise. Of course not.
Since the August heat was pretty much at its worse, Gwen brought along a jug filled with ice for her drive to the shelter. Marge was grumpy in the heat, and there was no telling if Gwen’s own air conditioning would work.
At the shelter, Mac greeted her with a welcoming grin. And although the question about Seth’s whereabouts still lingered in Mac’s gaze, he no longer asked.
“Taco salad?” Gwen said as she walked into the shelter’s kitchen to see all the fixings set out.
“Yep,” Mac said. “The taco meat is simmering. Can you scoop out the sour cream into a bowl?”
“Got it.” Gwen opened the refrigerator. Two white boxes sat on the shelves. “What’s in the boxes?”
“Oh, your friend dropped those off.”
Seth. She lifted the lid off the first box. Inside were two dozen fruit tarts with golden crusts and glazed fruit nestled in a creamy custard. She swallowed against the dryness of her throat. “When did he bring these?”
“Right after I got here.”
Gwen hadn’t seen Seth’s car when she drove in, so she knew he was long gone. She pulled out the dessert boxes and unloaded the tarts onto a serving tray. Seeing the exquisite desserts neatly lined up brought back memories of Seth and how he took so much care with his creations.
She missed him. But there was nothing she could do about it, or would do about it. When she saw him at the restaurant, an energy hummed between them, and she knew he was holding back from talking to her. He was respecting her wishes, giving her space. Waiting. Always waiting for her.
She had to find a way to take her mind off him, and it might take changing her job, but she was reluctant to go that far.
“Earth to Gwen,” Mac said close to her ear.
She turned and smiled. “Sorry, I guess I’m tired.” She looked past Mac to see that the lunch line had already formed. She got to work.
The faces were a blur, and although she greeted everyone and spoke with them, she could barely remember any of the conversations. By the time she left the homeless shelter, she was second-guessing her decision to visit her parents today. She sat in her car for a few minutes as the air conditioning made a feeble attempt to cool down the interior.
She pushed away the urge to call Seth, even if it was to thank him for the dessert, justifying it by the fact that surely Mac had already thanked him. It was time to move past Seth. To focus on her future, which meant reuniting with her parents.
Following the map app on her phone took her to a neighborhood several miles from where she’d grown up. The houses were well kept, but modest, and as Gwen neared the address, her pulse began drumming. Would they be watching for her car and come outside to greet her? Would they wait for her to knock on their door?
When she pulled alongside the curb, everything seemed quiet. The lawn had been recently mowed, and a riot of flowers grew in each flower bed. Everything looked ordinary. Gwen’s eyes pricked with tears, and she closed her eyes for a moment, inhaling. Exhaling. A year had passed since she’d seen her parents. It wasn’t so long.
Climbing out of the car, she squared her shoulders as she strode up the walkway. She reached to ring the doorbell, but the door opened. Her mom came out onto the porch, while her dad held the door open.
Her mom’s hair was cut in a short bob, streaked with gray, but her blue eyes were the same. Her dad had changed the most, the wrinkles about his eyes more pronounced, and his once dark hair thinned and graying.
“Gwennie,” her mom said, and in seconds Gwen was enveloped in a tight hug. Her mom smelled the same. Like department store perfume.
“Look at you.” Her mom pulled away, scanning Gwen from head to foot. “You’re beautiful.”
The tears started, maybe because Gwen couldn’t remember her mom ever calling her beautiful, or maybe because her dad was crying. She moved past her mom and hugged her dad. She closed her eyes as he held her. “I’m sorry,” she said, although it was more of a gasp.
“No need to apologize,” her dad said. “If anything, we’re the ones who are sorry. We just want our Gwennie back.”
After several moments, Gwen felt composed enough to pull away without breaking down again. She wiped at her eyes as her parents led her inside. They gave her a tour of the three-bedroom house.
“This is a guest bedroom.” Her mom opened the door to a room that had the same bedspread Gwen remembered from her old bedroom. “You’re welcome to stop over anytime. I also have all your things in boxes should you ever want to take them.”
Gwen stood in the doorway, gazing at the bedspread. She remembered picking out the violet and black colors when she was about fourteen. They’d painted her bedroom walls violet to go with it.
“Are you hungry?” her mom asked. “I’ve got some chicken casserole in the oven.”
“Sure, I’ll have some,” Gwen said, suddenly realizing she was famished.
She walked with her parents to the kitchen and helped her mom set out the meal while her dad pulled out a couple of photo albums.
“Now, I know what you’re going to say,” her dad said, opening the first album, “but it’s not what you think.” He slid the album over to her.
Gwen picked it up and slowly leafed throu
gh the pages. Her dad was right. The album was unexpected. The childhood pictures were there, yes, but so were bits and pieces of her schoolwork and lame attempts at art. She shook her head when she saw the angsty poem her twelve-year-old self had written when a dog had been killed in front of their house.
“You kept this?” she asked.
“We did,” her dad said with a soft smile. He reached over and patted her hand. “We missed you more than you can ever know.”
“I missed you, too.” Gwen took a deep breath. “But I think it’s great you guys are in this house. Strangely, it feels like home.”
Her mom smiled. “That’s nice to hear. I hope you’ll consider it your home.”
“I’m happy in Pine Valley.” Mostly. “I have a good job, and I’ve made a life and friends there.”
“Of course you have,” her mom said. “Pine Valley is lucky to have you, and from what you’ve told us about Alicia, she sounds like a great friend.”
“She is,” Gwen said. She decided she needed to be the one asking questions, or it would be too easy to start talking about Seth, and she wasn’t ready to go there.
The next couple of hours were filled with shared memories, laughter, and a few tears. When Gwen hugged her parents good-bye, she felt both happy and sad at the same time. Happy that these relationships had made it through all of their stubbornness, and sad that all of her parents’ expectations had turned out so differently.
Climbing into her car, Gwen was glad she still had plenty of daylight to make the ninety-minute drive back to Pine Valley. Her heart felt light as she drove, and she realized she wanted to call Seth and tell him all about what had happened. But she couldn’t, so she kept the radio on for company.
After she reached her apartment, she felt emotionally drained, and she ate a couple bites of her favorite red velvet ice cream, then climbed into bed with her clothes on. She was tired now, but tomorrow would be a better day. She’d be stronger than ever. But before she closed her eyes, she scrolled through the text messages on her phone and re-read the ones from Seth that she’d never deleted.
She was grateful to him for one thing: he’d encouraged her to reach out to her parents. She might have let those letters sit on top of her refrigerator for another year if he hadn’t. Gwen plugged her phone into the charger and lay back on her pillow, closing her eyes.
Someone knocked on her door, but Gwen didn’t move. It wasn’t all that late, but unless she was expecting someone, she never answered her door. Another knock sounded, this one a little louder and more persistent. Even Seth would have texted her—but it wasn’t like they were communicating.
A small seed of hope had already started to grow, though. What if it was Seth? She shouldn’t want to see him, but if it was him . . .
She climbed out of bed and smoothed her hair as she hurried down the hall. She peered through the peep hole and recognized the man standing on the other side of the door. But it was the last man she’d ever expected to see at her front door.
Gwen unlocked the door and opened it.
Mr. Owens’ lined face flashed with relief. “I was worried I had the wrong place.” He wore a polo shirt and khakis, dressed down from how she usually saw him.
Gwen didn’t move. Truthfully, she had no idea what to say.
Mr. Owens held up a paper grocery sack. “I hear you like lemons, and, well, these are almost ripe. I like to pick them before they’re too soft.”
Gwen glanced at the sack. He’d brought her lemons? From his trees?
When she didn’t take the sack, he cleared his throat. “Uh, well, here.” He set the sack on the floor next to her feet. “If you don’t want them, you can throw them away.”
Mr. Owens is nervous, Gwen thought. That much was clear.
“Anyway . . .” He rubbed the back of his neck, a motion that Gwen had seen Seth do more than once. “I owe you an apology.”
Gwen exhaled.
“My son told me I was out of line, and I guess I was too bullheaded to see past my own nose,” he continued. “Suffice it to say, after Seth moved out, I guess I finally understood how serious he was about you.”
Gwen blinked. “Seth moved out?”
“Yes, a few weeks ago.” His brows pulled together. “I thought you and he . . .”
“We broke things off,” Gwen said. “I didn’t want to cause contention between you and Seth.”
“You heard our argument?” Mr. Owens asked.
Gwen nodded.
His face paled. “I—I don’t know what to say.”
She had never imagined in her wildest dreams she’d see a man like Mr. Owens acting so contrite.
“No wonder.” He ran a hand over his face. Then his dark eyes focused on Gwen. “I regret everything I said that day. Have you ever said or done something you regret?”
“Of course,” Gwen said in a faint voice.
“Can you overlook my bullheadedness and come over tomorrow night?”
Gwen stared at him. “What’s tomorrow night?”
“It’s our anniversary party at the house,” he said. “Seth is coming—at least, he promised his mom. He’s not speaking to me. I haven’t seen him since . . . well, since that day you left first.”
The man was rambling. It was pitiful, really. “I’m really sorry, Mr. Owens. I don’t think I should come to your party. Seth and I aren’t seeing each other anymore.” She took a breath. “But don’t worry, I accept your apology, and I appreciate the lemons. I, too, have done things I’ve regretted. We can each move forward in our lives, with a clear conscience, and be better people for it.”
Mr. Owens was staring at her now, his mouth open, as if she’d stopped him mid-sentence. “No. You don’t understand. I came here to apologize, and I hoped to reconcile with Seth as well. But now I realize I must do much more.”
Gwen folded her arms. “You’ve done enough. Thank you for coming over. I do appreciate it.”
“Gwen,” Mr. Owen said. “My son is in love with you. If I don’t somehow prove how sorry I am, I don’t know if he’ll ever forgive me for driving you away.”
Her ears buzzed, and she wasn’t sure she’d heard Mr. Owens right. Seth was in love with her? And how did Mr. Owens know? Unless . . .
Gwen exhaled. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.” She’d spoken, but it was like her voice was far away.
“Please come,” Mr. Owens said. “If you can. This is not to appease my own guilt. I’ve been to the restaurant several times over the last few weeks—if only to make sure Seth was doing well. But I watched you, too. You have a way with people. You’re genuine. You’re a hard worker. In fact, you remind me of myself . . . before I made so many mistakes with my son.”
He looked away for a moment, then continued. “We’d love to see you there. My wife would be thrilled, and if Seth comes . . . Well, he’ll know that I am not such a horrible parent after all.” Tears filled his eyes, and Gwen felt her heart twist.
No matter how brusque Mr. Owens’ personality was, she knew he loved his son deeply.
She swallowed against the thickness of her throat. “I don’t know if I can.”
“I understand.” He took a step back. “Seven o’clock, our place, if you can make it. Formal dress, but anything you have is fine.” He took another step back, his gaze beseeching hers.
She watched him walk to the parking lot and climb into his car. She didn’t know how long she stared after him, but finally she picked up the sack of lemons and took them inside.
Seth shrugged into his tuxedo jacket, trying to resist the impulse to tug it off and skip the anniversary party. If it wasn’t for his mother inviting him, he’d be sitting out this anniversary dinner, no matter how long his parents had been married. The fact that his father could celebrate a long and happy marriage, while he’d cut down the one woman Seth thought he had a future with, was not something he could forget.
Sure, his father had apologized over and over, but it was too late. Gwen had overheard his dad’s rant, and she’d
broken things off. Their relationship had been too new and tenuous to withstand such a conflict. That same day, Seth had packed up his things and by that night had them in a temporary storage unit. He’d stayed in a hotel for a few days until he could get into an apartment. It turned out a lot of single adults went through upheaval, and finding a sublease wasn’t hard.
Truthfully, the space that moving out had given Seth between his parents had been good. He didn’t think he could go for months and months, or even a year without talking to his dad . . . like Gwen had. He wasn’t quite as stubborn as she was. Despite the fact that he was still nursing wounds, he smiled when he thought of her. Which was multiple times a day. His greatest fear was that she’d quit the restaurant; but so far she hadn’t.
Of course, maybe seeing her so often was worse—subjecting himself to sweet torture on the nights they worked together. She hadn’t replied to any of his texts or returned any of his calls, and he’d had to let her make that decision. Which meant that he’d let her make the decision about ending their relationship.
He’d never thought it would be easy; no relationship was. But he’d held out more hope with Gwen. It was all over now, and as he stared blankly at his reflection in the small bathroom of his apartment, he decided he’d have to figure out a way to move on.
The ringing of his cell phone pulled him out of his thoughts.
“Hi, Emmy,” he said when he answered. He walked down the short hallway to the living room that was still stacked with boxes he hadn’t unpacked. He’d picked up two lawn chairs that served as furniture.
“Are you still coming?” his sister asked.
“Yeah, I’m running late.”
The relief in Emmy’s voice was plain. “Good. Mom keeps asking about you, and it’s driving me crazy. It’s like you’re going to make or break her anniversary party.”
Seth released a sigh. He hated how the big blowup between him and his dad had affected his mom, and, well, everything. “I’m only going to stay for a few minutes, you know. Just making an appearance.”
Waiting for You_Pine Valley Page 15
