All of You

by Lindsay Detwiler

“And it seems like I have myself a new distraction. I still can’t believe you convinced me to play hooky.”

  “We all need a break.”

  “You’re right. It’s good to be away. And I’ve had an amazing time.”

  “Other than almost drowning in gross river water?” I ask.

  “Even with that. I’m serious. Thank you for reminding me vitamin D isn’t a bad thing.”

  “Is that the only thing I reminded you about?” I tease, eyeing him coyly.

  “Well, among other things.” He puts his plate on the floor, reaching for mine. My heart flutters again. He leans toward me.

  “I might be falling for you,” he says.

  “I might have already fallen for you. Literally and figuratively,” I whisper as he leans in. I use my finger to swipe at a speck of sauce on his face, staring into his deep blue eyes.

  “Are you okay with that? Falling for a square doctor like me?” he asks, now almost on top of me.

  I look up at him. “You betcha,” I respond, and then he takes my lips with his again, and I melt into the sofa, the Chinese food abandoned and forgotten.

  Chapter Eleven

  Marley

  “So, how was your hot and steamy night?” Dane asks me when I stroll into Georgia’s the next morning for my shift.

  I raise an eyebrow. “You know, you are my boss. Most bosses wouldn’t feel comfortable talking to their employees about their steamy dates.”

  He works on stacking some new coffee cups before the morning rush. “And most bosses don’t drive a truck out for the convenience of their employees when they’re on their hot date. Most bosses also don’t live in a town with about 4.5 people where they can hear all the gossip about how their employee didn’t go home the night before.”

  “True, I suppose. But last night was great.”

  “That’s it? Great? You spend the night with Rosewood’s newest, most eligible bachelor, and you can only use the word ‘great’ to describe it?”

  “Jesus, I didn’t think I was on a reality television show here. I know there isn’t much privacy in Rosewood, but we could at least pretend to have some semblance of respect for a girl’s private life.”

  “Marley Jade, do not use the Lord’s name in that way.”

  I turn to face Mrs. Pearson, Rosewood’s most active church member. She’s swinging by for her extra early cup of coffee before heading to the church to pray for the souls of Rosewood, most of all probably mine. I wince.

  “Sorry, Mrs. Pearson, got ahead of myself.”

  “It’s okay, darling. What are you two talking about, anyway?” she asks as Dane prepares her usual order.

  Dane snickers behind me as I punch in the amount in the register. “Oh, just—”

  “Just Marley’s evening. She had a busy one,” Dane says, laughing.

  Great. How the hell—er, heck—am I going to talk my way through this one?

  “Oh really. That’s nice, dear. What were you up to?”

  “Nothing really. Just… well, nothing.”

  Dane hands Mrs. Pearson her coffee as I breathe deeply, trying to get my face to cool down.

  “Hm,” she hums, taking the coffee and handing me the exact amount. “Funny. Because I heard you spent the night at the handsome new doctor’s apartment.”

  I bite my lip and shrug. What am I supposed to say to that? Damn Rosewood and its small-town, privacy-invading atmosphere.

  Mrs. Pearson waits for a response, but I just say, “Have a great day, Mrs. Pearson,” with the biggest smile I can fake.

  She sighs, shaking her head. “Marley Jade, I’ll say an extra prayer for you and your soul this morning.” And with that, she spins and marches out of Georgia’s, the bells on the door rattling on her way out.

  I slump over the counter. “This town is out of control. Seriously.”

  “You should’ve known your sleepover with the outsider would be big talk, especially considering Mrs. Gene lives in the same apartment building.”

  “Sometimes I swear this place is stuck in a time warp. Can we just get on with it already? People need lives or social media or something.”

  “So anyway, since word’s out about your promiscuous ways,” Dane says, winking as I shake my head, “tell me more. Are you and the hot doctor an official item, I’m guessing? Are you two running to the altar yet?”

  “Okay, first, with all your talk about his hotness, I’m starting to worry I might have some competition.”

  Dane shrugs. “If I were gay and so were he, I’d go for it.”

  “There are a whole lot of ifs in that statement. Plus, you’re assuming he would fall for a sarcastic, nosy ass such as yourself.”

  “You know, Marley, some employees wouldn’t be comfortable calling their boss an ass.”

  “Too bad I knew you before you were my boss, you remember, back when you used to call me Bob Marley and trip me every chance you got in the hallway.”

  “Okay, anyway, we’re getting off topic.”

  “There’s nothing more to say. Besides, nothing scandalous happened. We ate Chinese food, watched a movie, and that was it. I fell asleep on his couch.”

  Dane raises an eyebrow as some of the morning regulars come in. “Really? You expect me to believe that?”

  “You make it sound like I’m a sex-starved maniac.” At that, Mr. Cory startles. I didn’t realize he’d made his way to the counter. He walks very, very slowly. “Sorry, Mr. Cory. The usual?”

  The ninetysomething man just nods, and I tell him his total.

  “I just can’t believe you’d miss an opportunity like that,” Dane admonishes as he scurries about, picking up the slack for Becca, who is away at college now. Louise is sick, so it’s just the two of us.

  “I’m not going to rush into anything. Besides, we barely know each other. Not really.”

  “You know him well enough to blush every time he comes in. You know him well enough to take him kayaking and to spend every chance you get with him.”

  “Yeah, but what’s the point? He’s here for a few years, and then what? He’s going to go back to California, and I’ll be here, like I always am. I like him. I do. But it seems kind of pointless to get all wrapped up in him when it can’t work.”

  With the regulars all in their typical seats enjoying their usual orders, Dane touches my shoulder. I spin to look at him. “It’s true, who knows where this thing between you will be in a few years. But don’t you owe it to yourself to find out?”

  “I think I owe it to myself to guard my heart,” I say seriously.

  “Marley Jade, since when do you play things so safe?”

  “Since I’ve lost at love with basically every guy in this town. And since Alex Evans is too good for a girl like me. Look at me. What do I have to offer?”

  Dane pauses, a serious look on his face. It’s unfamiliar. He’s never this serious. “You have a lot to offer, Marley, if you’d just stop holding yourself back from being happy. Stop trying to protect everyone else’s happiness, and stop being so down on yourself. You’re an amazing woman, and Alex will see that. You don’t have to map out your whole life with him right now. Just see where this thing goes. Just be happy. And most of all, give yourself permission to find happiness for yourself, no matter what. You say you’re not going anywhere, but the thing is, I don’t think there’s anything stopping you.”

  “Dane, you know why I can’t just leave.”

  “That’s the thing, Marley. I think you can. I think at some point you might have to. I think you should let go of clinging to the past and to your misplaced guilt. I think you have to let go and let yourself live a little. Because I think you’ve let Rosewood and its secrets hold you in too long.”

  I don’t know how I feel about it all, but it does make me stop and think.

  Being with Alex makes me feel so good. He makes me feel safe, yet also alive. He makes me want to dream big for the future, to think about a life beyond this town. He makes me want to be better, to live better, to live big
ger.

  Last night, kissing him on the sofa, I wanted to be all in. I wanted to let down the barbed wire around my heart and let go of all the rational reasons I should pull back. I wanted to succumb to him, to the man he is.

  But I couldn’t.

  Because, just like every other man I’ve dared to fall for, I have a wall up. It’s almost imperceptible, but it’s there.

  It’s like no matter what I do, I won’t let myself get too close because I know how this whole story ends.

  It ends with him moving on to bigger, better things, and me standing in the shadow of Rosewood, just like the little girl who stood here wondering why bad things happen and realizing I could never leave behind all the things that happened here.

  ***

  When my shift’s over, I don’t head to the oak tree to do some writing like I want to. Instead, I head straight home. I need to check on Mom, make sure she made it out of bed and to work today. I tried to call earlier, but no one answered. I hope and pray this is a good sign.

  When I round the corner and see our house, though, my heart sinks. Our car is in the driveway. Sometimes when Mom’s really feeling good, she’ll walk to work. Maybe today was just a good day.

  Trudging through our front door, I toss my keys on the counter beside the stack of bills I still need to pay.

  “Mom?” I yell, scanning the living room and kitchen for her. There’s no answer.

  I head down the hallway. Her door’s still shut. I toss it back, fearing the worst but hoping for the best.

  “Mom?” I yell again when I find her, sprawled on her back, her legs and arms spewing over the edges as she lies cockeyed in the bed.

  I rush over and shake her, my heart pounding.

  A groan from her tells me she’s alive, but the empty bottle of Jack Daniel’s beside her bed tells me she’s far from okay.

  Tears sting. How could I be such an idiot? How could I just leave last night, without even checking on her?

  “Mom, are you okay?” I ask, knowing it’s a ridiculous question.

  Mom’s never okay. She’s never been okay.

  “Get off. Leave me the fuck alone,” she spews, her words choppy and lacking clear enunciation.

  “Mom, I’m sorry,” I say, tears falling now, the sight of her in this state bringing everything back.

  I’m a horrible daughter. I should’ve stayed last night. I shouldn’t have left her alone.

  She rolls over, and I rush to the nightstand where I know there’s Advil close by. Like I’ve done so many times, I reach for the bottle, popping out two.

  I freeze, though, before handing them to her. There, beside the empty bottle, is the picture.

  It’s a smiling couple by the roller coaster where they met. She’s kissing his cheek, youth radiating from them. It was taken one year after they met. It’s where my dad proposed.

  The picture makes me long for what once was but can never be again. They’re happy. They’re together. Mom’s glowing and happy. The smile lines on her face tell me she’s looking forward to the future. She’s living life, she’s free.

  She’s very different from the woman who is trashed in her bed at 2:00 p.m. on a weekday. She’s very different from the woman who has been on her own emotional roller coaster for over a decade. She’s nothing like that woman in the picture, a shell of the woman she could’ve been.

  Shit. I’m a bigger idiot than I thought.

  Yesterday. The date. September 1. It was their anniversary yesterday, the anniversary of when they met and also when he proposed. How could I be so selfish? How could I get so wrapped up in my own life that I forgot?

  The familiar pang of guilt and pain throbs in my chest. I did this. It’s my fault.

  It’s always my fault.

  ***

  I sit on the sofa for the next few hours. I don’t try to think about what to do or how bad I feel. I sit, a blank canvas, an empty shell, staring into the oblivion that’s my life. I see my phone light up on the coffee table, the name “Alex” flashing on the screen. I ignore it. Over and over I ignore it.

  Yesterday, everything was perfect. Yesterday, I thought maybe I could do it. Maybe I could let go of the guilt from the past. I could spread my wings a little, detach myself from the fucked-up situation that is my life.

  But coming home, seeing Mom, remembering that I’m the only thread she has to keep it together, I realize I can’t. How can I leave her here alone? How can I abandon her?

  I can’t. I simply can’t.

  A few hours later, there’s a frantic knock on the door. I don’t move, sitting in the blackness of the living room. I hear a key slide into the doorknob, and within minutes, Margaret’s face is in front of me.

  “Honey, I was worried. I saw your mom’s car in the driveway all day. Is everything okay?”

  I look up at her, my vision blurry from crying. “No.”

  Margaret nods. I don’t have to say anything else. She knows. She’s always known.

  “It’s going to be okay,” she reassures like she’s done so many times, patting me on the shoulder.

  But for once in my life, I can’t believe Margaret. I can’t believe anything is ever going to be okay. For fourteen years, I’ve tried to believe it’s going to sort itself out, that Mom’s going to get better. For fourteen years, I’ve listened to her in her upswings tell me she’s done with drinking, that she’s going to move on.

  For fourteen years, I’ve watched her wreck her life, the ghost of the man who left her clinging to her soul in ways I can’t bear to understand.

  And for fourteen years, all I could do is sit idly by, hoping I could save her from the fate my dad met, hoping I could be the link to salvation she needs.

  For fourteen years now, I’ve felt like nothing but a failure, a letdown, and a disgrace.

  For fourteen years, I’ve been stuck in this purgatory. And, despite Margaret’s soft voice, when she walks back to check on Mom and try to make things better, I know there’s no way out.

  Chapter Twelve

  Alex

  I probably shouldn’t be here, but it’s too late to worry now. The door creaks open, and Marley faces me, the familiar red hat on her black hair.

  But the Marley Jade smile I’ve come to know, the shrieking playful girl from a few days ago in the kayak, she’s gone. The bridge Marley is back, the sad eyes Marley.

  Dr. Conlan’s right. Even if she’s ignored my phone calls for days, even if she’s tried to avoid me, she needs someone. I don’t know if I can be that someone. I don’t know what good I could possibly be. But looking at her, it’s apparent she’s going through hell.

  We stare a long moment. I have no idea what’s going on other than issues with her mom—Dr. Conlan told me I need to wait for Marley to tell me everything when she’s ready. I know Marley’s got her demons, but I’m starting to realize how deeply they run.

  I don’t know what to say or do, but I don’t have to. I realize coming here is exactly what I should’ve done. Before I can second-guess myself or figure out what to say, she steps forward, falling into my arms, the smell of her perfume and the feel of her warm, soft skin beneath my fingers telling me I’m right where I belong and that, just like the night of the bridge, Marley just needs someone to pull her back.

  Maybe, just maybe, I can be that person.

  “Can we go for a walk?” I ask, and Marley nods, pulling the door shut behind her as we head off into the night.

  ***

  “I’m sorry for just swinging by, but I got worried,” I say quietly, Marley staring ahead as we walk the streets now familiar to me.

  “I’m sorry for ignoring you. I just… it’s been a rough few days.”

  I let the silence seep in between us, not wanting to push her too far.

  “I’ve missed you,” I declare, meaning it.

  The past few days without Marley have shown me exactly what she’s come to mean to me. Gone were the days of careless walks in Rosewood, cheesesteaks with Moe, or impromptu trips arou
nd town. Gone were the days of easy laughter. My days again settled into routine—work, sleep, eat, and study.

  My dad would be proud, but my heart wasn’t happy.

  I was bored. I was drowning in monotony and loneliness.

  We walk in silence, the night air crisp, the stars twinkling above us. We head to the park, Marley’s favorite one. Wordlessly we sit on the bench, and she leans into me as we study the night sky.

  “He used to bring me here,” she starts, like a whispered prayer into the night.

  I have an arm around her shoulders, and I gently play with the ends of her hair. I don’t say anything, letting her go on at her own pace.

  “He used to bring me here when I was a little girl on nights just like this. Mom would tell him it was crazy, that he shouldn’t have a four-year-old out at this time of night. But he didn’t care. He’d just smile and tell her we’d be back. We’d walk down here and sit, right here, and he’d point out stars. I, of course, had no idea what he was talking about, naming those shiny dots in the sky. I’d wriggle and fiddle and fidget, wanting him to finish his lesson so we could go swing like we always did. He loved the stars, though. He would always talk about how far away they are but how beautiful, how perfect.”

  She looks at me now as I study her. A tear slides down her cheek, and I reach up to wipe it away. But more tears fall, and I can’t keep up.

  “Alex, I love you. I know it’s probably too soon and I know it’s crazy. I know I’m just some plain girl from Rosewood, I’m just a stop in your amazing life. But I realized on that kayak that I love you so damn much it scares me.”

  It’s an odd confession of love, in the middle of such sadness. It’s like her emotions are running wild, yet, in truth, it’s the most honest, genuine confession of love I can imagine. It feels real and natural. It’s exactly what I needed to hear.

  “I love you too. And you’re not just some plain girl. You’re not just a stop. You’ve reminded me what living is. I used to think life was about achieving, about climbing the ladder of success. I used to think life was eating three meals a day and studying and working. You’ve shown me in this past month that life is this, right here. I love you, too, Marley. And not just for now. Not just for a while. I love you for good.” I lean in then, her tears still falling, and I kiss her.