by Meg Muldoon
I felt my eyes grow wide.
“Really?” I said.
She nodded.
Then, she stared dead into my eyes.
“I’m thinking about leaving him for Raymond.”
I thought my jaw was gonna hit the ground.
Chapter 75
“Molly, I…”
I started saying something, but I didn’t have anywhere to go with it.
The news had come as a complete shock.
Molly and Raymond were…?
“You mean… you mean Raymond Rollins?”
She nodded, looking away with guilt-ridden eyes.
“But…”
I shook my head.
I just couldn’t get my mind around the idea.
Molly, my uptight, prim and proper, perfect sister was thinking about leaving her husband of ten years for my brutish and brooding cop ex-boyfriend?
What in the…?
She folded her arms over her argyle sweater, sensing my difficulty in understanding just what was happening.
“I know it’s a shock,” she said. “It came as a shock to me too. I didn’t mean for it to happen, Loretta. I mean I never thought…”
She trailed off, sighing.
“But it just did.”
She paused, waiting for me to say something. But I found myself speechless.
So this was what Raymond had been bugging me about the past few weeks.
Not about trying to get me back – what I thought it had been about.
He’d wanted to tell me that he was seeing my sister.
And maybe he’d wanted some sort of advice.
“How…” I started saying, my voice hoarse. “How long has this been going on?”
She squinted hard at the river.
“Raymond started coming to church in the summer,” she said. “We got put on a special planning committee together. And seeing as we already kind of knew each other from family dinners, we, uh, we seemed to have a lot to talk about.”
She rubbed her face.
“I just… it was like when I was around him, I was under this spell. Like all my willpower just disappeared. You know? And even though I knew it was wrong, even though I knew I’d burn in hell for it, he made me feel more alive than I ever have before.”
She chewed her lower lip.
“Like the sun suddenly shone down on my drab and boring little life, and I suddenly felt...”
I stared at her, hearing the sincerity in her words.
Words that I’d heard dozens, maybe hundreds, of times before during my matchmaking.
Words people used when they talked about their soulmate.
“I suddenly felt like anything could happen. Anything at all,” she continued.
I nodded.
I knew that feeling, all right.
“But you see,” she said, her eyes suddenly growing glassy. “It’s not easy. I’ve got ten years of marriage behind me, Loretta, and two kids I love with everything I have. And the thought that this could…”
She trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.
I watched as a few plump tears rolled down her rosy cheeks.
Maybe I should have been upset with her.
Some probably would have been if they found out that their sister was running around with an ex-boyfriend of theirs.
But as I looked at her crying there, I didn’t feel upset in the least.
I felt sorry for her.
Love worked in ways that were neither convenient nor just. And often times, it left a trail of wounded hearts in its wake.
It was clear to me that no matter what Molly decided, someone was gonna get hurt in all of this.
Any petty grudges I might have had about my sister dating Raymond Rollins just seemed immature in that light.
She took another swig of gin and made a bitter face as a few more tears rolled down her cheeks.
“Raymond’s told me that he’s tired of sneaking around,” she said. “He gave me an ultimatum. That if I love him, then I have to leave Gary.”
“Do you love him?” I said.
She sucked in wind.
Then she nodded.
“You must think I’m a terrible person,” she said. “I know I do.”
“I don’t think that,” I said, shaking my head.
She bit down on her lip again and fell silent for a spell.
“So have you decided yet on what you’re gonna do, Mol?” I finally said.
“I thought you could help me with that,” she said, glancing over.
“Me?”
She nodded.
“I know I haven’t believed you and those visions you get,” she said. “But I’m desperate, Loretta. Do you think Raymond is my soulmate? Because if I knew that going into it, then I’d know what to do, and I’d feel a lot better breaking up a marriage over it.”
I let out a sad sigh. Then I pat her shoulder.
“I’m sorry, hon. I’d like to help, but my visions don’t work like that,” I said. “I can’t just call them up for specific people. They come and go as they please.”
Her face fell and she looked away as a few more tears escaped her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I said again.
She nodded.
“I knew it was a long shot, anyway.”
We sat there for a few moments in silence. Looking out at the river.
I thought about what to say to her, struggling to find the right words.
I wanted to tell her that no matter what she chose, everything was going to be okay. That she’d figure out a way to make it all work. That in the end, everyone would be happy and content.
But I couldn’t, because none of those things were true.
I thought about me and Fletcher. About despite the fact that we were meant for each other, we still had our problems. Problems that weren’t easy to solve. Problems that could tear us apart.
I thought about Jake and Marie. How in love they’d been in at the beginning. How it all crumbled around them, despite the fact that they belonged together.
“Molly,” I said. “All I can say is that love is a real pain in the behind. But you still have to follow your heart. Because that’s the only way you’re ever gonna be happy.”
I sighed.
“Now whether following your heart means leaving Gary for Raymond, or whether it means staying with your husband and trying to work things out, I don’t know. But what I can say is that sometimes, despite folks’ best intentions, things just don’t work out between two people. Soulmates or not. It doesn’t really matter.”
She nodded, wiping at her nose with a Kleenex she pulled from the pocket of her jeans.
“Jeez, Bitters,” she said. “I was looking for something a little more specific than that.”
I shrugged.
“I know,” I said. “And I wish I could give you more. But it’s the best advice I can offer. ‘Cuz you’re the only one in all of this who knows what the right thing to do is.”
I glanced over at her.
She had stopped crying.
“Well, that’s something I guess,” she said.
I pat her on the back again.
“Just… just know that whatever you choose, Mol, I’ll support you. No matter what. Okay?”
She raised her eyebrows.
“Really? You’re not upset about me and Raymond?”
I shook my head.
“Whatever makes you happy, hon,” I said. “You’re my sister. And as far as I’m concerned, that comes first.”
A surprised expression illuminated her face.
“Really?” she said again.
“Really,” I said.
She was clearly taken aback, left completely speechless, by what she’d just heard.
Like I’d said, Molly and I weren’t always simpatico. We were opposites in just about every way.
But that didn’t mean I wanted to see her miserable and unhappy.
She took in a big gulp of air.
“That means a lot, Loretta,” s
he said. “You don’t even know just how—”
She smiled weakly as her voice became overwhelmed with emotion.
And for a second, she looked like a little kid. Scared and unsure and afraid.
Any grudges I had against her seemed to just melt away.
I reached over and gave her a big hug.
“It’ll all be okay,” I said as she started crying again. “And you know what?”
“What?” she said.
I looked at her and grinned.
“Mom always did love Raymond.”
She cracked a smile and started laughing.
Chapter 76
It was the quiet before the Saturday night storm of customers when she walked into the saloon.
There were just a few regulars hanging out around the jukebox, drinking Budweiser’s and Coors. Floyd Gallagher was here. He’d spent the afternoon thus far shoving quarters into the jukebox, playing a string of 80s country western hits. Looking none the worse for wear, despite almost having an attempted murder charge pinned on him.
When I saw her walk in, I almost dropped the tray of drinks I was carrying.
It took everything I had to keep from flying across the room and attacking her like some sort of wild animal.
She saw me immediately, saw the instant rage that must have been glowering in my eyes, and she held up her hands in a defensive motion.
“Just… Just let me say something,” she said, her voice quivering.
I put the tray down and stomped around the bar, walking toward her aggressively.
“Get the hell out of here,” I said. “Fletcher ain’t here anyway. But if he catches you here, you know what he’s—”
“I know,” Christina said. “But I’m not here to see him.”
I crossed my arms, afraid that if I didn’t, they’d get the better of me and I might have an all-out fistfight on my hands.
“Listen, I’m here to talk,” she said, lowering her voice. “That’s all.”
I glanced around, suddenly noticing that everybody’s eyes were glued on us.
I was about to give them all a lot to talk about soon if I stayed here.
“Outside,” I said between gritted teeth, glancing around.
I nodded toward the back hallway, waiting for her to go first.
I wasn’t about to turn my back on this woman.
She nodded, then walked briskly in front of me.
When we were outside in the alleyway behind the bar, I glared at her.
It took everything I had not to smack her to next Saturday.
“I’m leaving town soon,” she said, her voice shaking slightly.
“Good,” I said coldly. “‘Cuz you’re not welcome here. You never were.”
She winced.
“Look, I just wanted to say something to you,” she said. “That’s why I came by your house the other day.”
“You mean why you gained entry into my house, pretending to be someone you’re not?” I said.
She looked up sharply.
“I’m trying to say something to you,” she said. “Now if you just let me say it, I’ll be out of your hai—”
“Then say it,” I growled.
I wasn’t going to give her an inch. Not after what she’d done to Fletcher.
She didn’t deserve any leniency whatsoever.
“When all this went down, after the cops hung me out to dry, I went running to everyone I knew,” she said. “Lots of people who I considered my friends. And you know what? Each and every one of them turned their back on me. Each and every one shut the door in my face. Do you know what that’s like? To not have a friend in the world to turn to? To be living on the run the way I have?”
“Well, maybe it has something to do with the way you treat others,” I said. “Breaking hearts and ruining people and the like.”
She looked down, unable to meet the fierceness in my eyes.
“That was… I’m not proud of that. I did a horrible thing to Fletcher,” she said. “I was an addict then, Loretta. And I—”
“I don’t want to hear your excuses” I said, sharply.
She sighed.
“I know. But my point is, that everyone turned their back on me. And when everyone told me no, when everyone was gonna let those sons of bitches just kill me like a dog in the street, you know who didn’t tell me no?”
I crossed my arms and stared at her.
“Fletcher Hart,” she said. “Fletcher was the only one who didn’t turn me out. And he did that, even considering the things I did to him.”
“Yeah, well, he’s a damn sucker.”
She shook her head.
“No,” she said. “He’s a good man. And you know what? He deserves a good woman.”
I felt my hands ball up into fists.
“Now you’re gonna pass judgment?” I said. “You, of all people?”
“I ain’t passing judgment,” she said. “I’m just telling you the kind of man Fletcher Hart is and what he deserves. And I think you ought to be thanking your lucky stars, Loretta, that he’s yours.”
She shook her head.
“I know I’d be counting my blessings everyday if I were you.”
I stepped closer to her.
“Get out of my sight,” I growled.
I stared her down for a long moment. She pushed her eyes toward the concrete and backed down the alley.
“Don’t let him get away,” she said. “Take it from someone who knows.”
She turned on her heels and left. Disappearing into the growing darkness.
Where she belonged.
I stood out there a long, long while, her words echoing in my ears like the sound of gun shots in the woods.
Chapter 77
I was tired down to the very marrow of my bones.
Tired, and not looking particularly good.
I caught a glimpse of myself in the bar shelf mirror as I collected an armful of empty beer bottles from one of the tables.
It had been one hell of a Saturday night, and I sure looked it.
With Maggie obviously no longer welcome as an employee of The Cupid, I’d taken on the bartending duties for the evening. And since it was the first night of The Cupid reopening, it had been packed to the rafters. More so than I’d ever seen, in fact. I guess everyone had wanted to see the place where Clay Westwood had been shot. A point of publicity I wasn’t too fond of, but one that I couldn’t exactly complain about when I counted out the cash register at the end of the night.
At this rate, it was gonna be like we hadn’t been closed at all.
I placed the money securely in the backroom’s safe, Hank watching me with one eye from his spot on the office’s leather couch. Then I went back out to the barroom and started collecting more beer bottles and glasses full of melted ice. I washed down the tables, humming along to Lucero’s “It Gets the Worst at Night” playing from the bar stereo.
Things were good again, and I didn’t have much of an excuse to be sad.
Christina was leaving town. I was healing up nicely. The bar was back on its feet. We had the summer line-up still left to plan, with plenty of interest from companies that represented many an up-and-coming country act, probably partially on account of Clay Westwood playing here.
Beth Lynn and Robert had even stopped by earlier tonight. Looking tan and glowing and happy after their honeymoon in Mexico. A reminder that I was good at what I did most of the time.
But despite all that, I found myself feeling rather gloomy tonight.
I grabbed the broom from back behind the bar, and started sweeping up the dust and grime and crumpled receipts the night had left behind.
It’d been a busy night all right, but it’d been a quiet night when it came to me and Fletcher.
No talking. No stealing glances at each other. No taking breaks in the office, scheming about our future.
Just an icy chill between us that wasn’t getting any warmer.
I thought about Molly and Raymond, and what I had
told her about love.
How it was a pain in the ass.
How sometimes it didn’t matter if somebody was your soulmate or not. It wasn’t any easier than any other relationship. Sometimes it was harder, because you felt everything so much more deeply.
About how the problems didn’t just up and disappear because you suddenly realized that you belonged with the person.
That sometimes—
I jumped as my hips bumped into somebody.
I turned around.
“Put the broom down, Bluebird,” he said, handing me my coat. “I’m taking you somewhere.”
Chapter 78
I stepped out of the truck just as a dusky grey hue started to stain the edges of the dark sky.
“Fletcher, what are we—”
“Just… c’mon.”
Hank jumped down from the truck bed, and trotted out somewhere in the distance.
I pulled my jacket tighter around me, following Fletcher’s flashlight as we came to the trail. Even in the darkness of early morning, I recognized where we were.
We were on that old hiking trail that ran alongside The Crooked River. The one that few people used these days.
The one that Fletcher and I had taken once last year before we started dating. The time when he told me who he was and what had happened to him.
I didn’t know what we were doing out here at this hour. But the anticipation and nerves about what could possibly be ahead went a ways toward curing me of the exhaustion that had settled in my bones.
We hiked that way for a long while, climbing the trail in complete and utter silence. Most of the snow had melted, leaving the trail damp, but walkable. The early morning felt mild against my skin, and there was a warm breeze blowing in from the south. Below us, the sound of the river meandering provided a background soundtrack to our ascent of the path.
We got to the top of the ridge just as the stars above were beginning to fade, and a rosy pink started to take hold of the sky in the distance.
Fletcher took my hand in his, and led me to an old wooden bench that overlooked the river.
We watched in silence as the light of morning brought the heavens to life. The rosy pink gave way to shades of candy apple red, and then to a stunning shade of gold that set the clouds in the distance aflame. After several minutes, the bright colors started to fade, and the blue began to rise like a phoenix, engulfing the sky in the fresh hope of a brand new day.
