Even Megan doesn't know what I've been holding onto all these years. If she did, she wouldn't tell me to let it go. She'd tell me I needed to deal with it because for the last five years all I've done is try to ignore it.
Chapter Seven
As much as Megan was trying to help, I'm pretty sure she screwed me up even more. Before she came over, I was trying to get okay with the fact that I had feelings for Zane. I'm not in love with him, but I'll admit there are feelings that extend beyond the bedroom. Beyond friends.
He's special. Important.
Now she has me thinking about my past and is telling me to deal with my shit.
Shit I don't want to think about let alone deal with.
And as much as I want to ignore her advice, two days later, I find myself taking it.
ME: I need a personal day. Sorry for the short notice, but I have something I need to do. I got caught up yesterday, and you only have one meeting this afternoon. Everything you need should be on your desk when you get in this morning.
RYDER: Okay. Everything all right?
ME: Yeah, just sorting a few things out that I need to do during business hours, that's all.
A complete lie, but Ryder doesn't question me on it. I never ask for personal time. Aside from going to the Bahamas with everyone else, I haven't taken but maybe one or two personal days in the last year. I like my job. I look forward to going to work in the mornings most days. Even after days like Monday, where I'm completely exhausted, overworked, and in need of a bottle of wine, I still look forward to going back the next day.
Plus, knowing that I was going to be calling in, I made sure Ryder was set up today. It makes life easier for the both of us.
Yet, as I sit in my car and stare across the street at my destination, I think about texting him back. Telling him I'm on my way. That I took care of my shit and I don't really need the day off.
"You can do this, Ally," I say to myself over and over again until there's a knock at my window.
He's aged since I last saw him. You can see the weight he still carries on his shoulders as they sag forward. The forced smile on his face is the same one he gave me all those years ago.
"Miss Ally," he calls when I make no move to get out of the car.
Sucking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly, I open the door and greet my former father-in-law with a hug.
"How are you, Harry?"
"Same ole, same ole. You know. How are you? You look great."
Holding me at arm’s length, Harry gives me a once over. It's his signature greeting. Every time we meet, he does the same thing. It's been close to two years since the last time we had breakfast. I had to pull away from the family, to distance myself from them and the memory of Kevin.
Harry refused to let me go.
He still calls once a month even though I don't answer.
He sends me flowers on my birthday and a card at Christmas.
As much as it hurts to push him away, it hurts even more to keep him close. To know that his son was the love of my life. And that if it hadn't been for me, he would still be here.
"I'm doing well."
"Really? Your face tells a different story," he remarks, taking my arm and guiding us through the parking lot. "You can lie to your friends all you want. You can't lie to me. Not if you expect me to believe you."
Harry's the kind of person who can see through the façade. Nothing gets past him. Lies, little or big, get caught in his web. It used to entertain me when he'd call people out, mostly Kevin.
Today I find it annoying. I'd much rather he play along like he has the past few years when I've lied and said I was fine. That life was grand. I knew he didn't believe a word I was saying, but at least he didn't question me on it. He didn't call me on my bullshit.
Maybe he wanted to believe me. He wanted to believe that the death of my husband hadn't ruined me. I know that's what I wanted to believe. I still want to, but lying to myself has gotten me nowhere, and it's time to face the truth.
Kevin's never coming home.
He didn't leave me for another woman. We didn't have a fight and get divorced.
Fought for the country he loves. Defended our freedom. And then died.
When he stopped to pick up ice cream for me on his way home.
The very reason I don't eat ice cream anymore. It's a painful reminder of what I lost.
"I don't expect you to believe me," I say to Harry as we follow the waitress to our usual table. "I just figure if I say it enough, maybe one day I'll believe myself. Maybe one day it will be true."
"It'll only be true if you find a way to let go, Allison."
Is Megan around here somewhere? I hear an echo. Oh, wait. That's Harry, sounding like my best friend.
"What if I'm not ready to let go yet?"
"That's not what Kevin would have wanted, and you know it."
And here we go. The beginning of the same conversation we have every time we see each other. It's been a while, and usually he doesn't start in on me until the end of the meal, but I can still recite it word for word.
Kevin loved you. He'd want you to be happy. You should move on. Live your life.
Except today I plan to change the script.
"Well, I didn't want Kevin to die so as much as I care what he would have wanted; he's not here to tell me himself."
My words are filled with anger and hatred. Not for Harry or Kevin, but for the man who shot him. The man who decided to rob the gas station my husband stopped at and shoot three people, killing my husband and one other man. The man who's still out there somewhere living his life while so many others suffer because of his actions.
"There's the spitfire my boy married. It's nice to see you again," Harry laughs.
Rolling my eyes, I order a cup of coffee and an omelet. The waitress has already brought Harry a white milk and doesn't bother to ask him what he wants. He's a creature of habit. He eats at the same three restaurants. Orders the same meals every time. And if you're from around here, you know who he is.
You also knew who Kevin was. That's why I had to get out of here.
The looks of pity wherever I went. The whispers and rumors. I couldn't stand it.
So I moved to the 'big city' to escape. The city that's still only forty minutes away but feels like it's on a completely different continent sometimes. My plan was to blend into the background. To be just another fun-loving, single girl in her mid-twenties.
"So, what brings you all the way out here today?"
"I don't know. I guess I just thought it was time for a visit."
"There you go, lying again. Why not try the truth and see how that sounds."
I'm not sure if I'm ready to confess all my truths to Harry. Saying out loud that I'm seeing someone, that I have feelings for another man, one who's not his son, seems like it would hurt him.
I also don't think he's going to let me leave if I don't tell him something he'll believe.
"I've met someone," I state plainly. I try not to let the sound of my voice convey much. I certainly don't want him to hear how excited I am whenever I think about Zane.
"Is he a good man?"
"So far, yes."
"How long have you two been together?"
"Not long. About a month, I guess."
"And your friends, do they like him? Do they approve of your relationship?"
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"Because, the fact that you haven't told them about Kevin means they don't know shit, Allison."
And here we go. This conversation just took a drastic turn. There's a ditch up ahead and I'm headed straight for it. There's no avoiding it. Harry's driving, and his plan is to let us fall in, so I'm trapped.
"They know him. Only a few of them know we're seeing each other."
"Do they know about Kevin?"
The last time we had lunch, this was the reason I stormed out. I'd been at Dixon for almost a year. I hadn't told a soul about Kevin, and I had no inten
tions to. He was my past, and I was trying to move forward. It had taken me a long time to even get out of bed after everything happened. I was afraid to open that wound up again.
So when he insisted I tell my friends about Kevin, I shut him down. Stormed out. Stopped taking his phone calls. He's always been like a father figure to me. I've always respected his opinion. But that day I wasn't having it. I wasn't in the mood to be told what I should do. How I should live my life.
"No. I still haven't told anyone."
"Why?"
"Let me ask you this," I begin. "Do you talk about Kevin a lot?"
"Most days. Or I talk to him. I visit him once a week."
Ugh. Of course he does. I've been to his grave once since leaving. Before that, I'd only been a handful of times. It was too painful to talk to him when I knew he couldn't hold up his end of the conversation.
And I was still pissed, so talking wasn't getting me anywhere.
"Doesn't talking about him hurt?"
"Not anymore. It used to. Every time I thought about him, I felt this pain in my chest. But after a while, it begins to dull. You'd know if you tried it."
There's a note of challenge in his voice. He's trying to push my buttons now.
"This is something I've carried with me for so long I'm not even sure where to begin. It's not exactly a conversation starter. It's a secret I've kept, and if I start telling people now, what are they going to think?"
"That you're stronger than they imagined. That you've carried this burden with you since the day it happened and haven't asked for help. Not once. They'll wish you would have told them sooner so they could have been there for you. They won't understand why you waited this long, but they won't be mad at you for it.
"This is part of who you are, Ally. Kevin was part of you, he still is, and always will be. He's the part of you that people don't know. The part they don't understand because you don't talk about him or what happened."
As Harry's voice trails off, the first tear falls. Kevin was so much like his father. Sturdy and strong. A great person but an even better husband. He put the needs of others above his own.
He was a soldier at heart.
When we first met, I brushed him off. I didn't want to be a military wife. I didn't want to have to worry about someone all the time. We were at war. He could have been deployed at any moment.
It was a lot to consider.
He never gave me a chance. He swept me off my feet. Swept all my concerns and doubts under the rug.
We were married eight months later. A week before he deployed for his first tour. That was the longest six months of my life. When he returned home, we went on our honeymoon. We bought a house here, close to his family. Put down roots. Made plans to start a family. His contract was up in less than a year. The chance of his being deployed again was small.
When he got the call, I fell apart in his arms. Six more months. He was going to miss our first anniversary. I was going to be left alone again. I'd spend every moment worrying about my husband and whether or not he would come home.
Just like Harry, Kevin talked me down. Made me smile. Helped me see the big picture.
This would be his last tour. His contract would expire the minute he stepped foot on American soil. The next time he came home, it would be for good.
So I put on a brave face and kiss my husband goodbye for the last time. I was determined to keep my chin up. To face this with the same determination and strength he showed when he pursued me. I made it through one tour, I'd make it through another.
Two days later, he called to let me know their assignment had been canceled. He was on the next flight and would be wrapping me in his arms in a matter of hours. He wanted to celebrate with champagne. I wanted rocky road ice cream. My favorite. He promised to stop and pick up both.
And that's where our story begins and ends.
Because that was the last conversation I had with my husband. The last time I heard his voice.
The last time I felt my heart beat with a sense of purpose.
Chapter Eight
Harry and I sit in silence while I accept the weight of his words.
They don't know that part of me, so they don't understand it. And they won't until I tell them.
"Can I give you a piece of advice?" Harry finally asks.
"You've never needed permission to dispense it before. What's stopping you now?"
"Well, this might be hard to take. You're not going to want to hear it. In fact, you might storm out on me again, and I don't want that to happen."
The man who calls it like he sees it is asking permission to speak his mind. Whatever he's about to say is going to piss me off for sure. Yet I'm intrigued. I'm sure that was his plan. As much as I don't want to fall for his trap, I can't walk away from him not knowing either.
"Go ahead." I nod, staring down at my half-empty cup of coffee.
"When Kevin died, you ran. You were hurt, and you needed space. I get that. We all get that. Everywhere you turned, there were reminders of him. Of things you two did together. Memories you made."
"And people staring at me like I was going to break at any moment. Whispering and spreading rumors. Calling me the Parker widow."
"People can be assholes, Allison. You're smart enough to know that at your age. But that's not the reason you ran away from here. You ran from Kevin. You couldn't handle what happened. You blamed yourself then, and I think you still do. What you don't know is that it's not your fault."
"But it was," I mumble to myself, but apparently Harry has sonic hearing in his old age.
"How do you figure?"
"He was only at the store because I asked for ice cream."
"Then why was he parked at the pump? Why had he just filled up his truck? That's not the only reason he was there that night. You didn't kill him, sweetie. You didn't pull the trigger. It was a shitty coincidence. Wrong place, wrong time. You need to stop blaming yourself. It's coming up on five years. It's past time to move on with your life. To start living like you're alive. To stop looking for Kevin in every man you meet. You won't find him. He was one of a kind. What you can find is another man who will love you with all his heart, just like Kevin did. A man that will treat you with the respect you deserve and cherish everything about you.
"My thought is that you've found him. That's why you're here today. That's why you finally came back. Not to see me, but to tell Kevin. To put your past behind you so you can move on with your life. You deserve to be happy again, Allison. In order to do that, you must forgive yourself."
Forgiveness.
I've always found it to be an interesting word.
To forgive means to cease to feel resentment against.
In order to forgive myself, I'd have to stop blaming myself. To stop blaming myself, I would need to either accept what happened or blame someone else. I blame the guy who shot him. He's the one who pulled the trigger, but I also blame myself for putting Kevin in the store. For him being there in the first place.
Whether he needed gas or not.
Had they not canceled his assignment, he would have been overseas. A dangerous and scary place filled with guns. He very well could have been shot and killed there, but it would have meant something. It would have had a greater purpose.
It wouldn't have hurt any less. My husband would still be gone. I'd still be mourning his loss.
But I wouldn't be blaming myself.
"How?" I ask Harry as the waitress sets our breakfast on the table. My stomach lurches forward at the site. There's a layer of grease soaking into my omelet. Everything here comes with extra grease, no charge.
Taking a bite of his eggs, Harry seems to think it over but doesn't offer any suggestions.
"Has the advice well run dry?"
"I don't need to tell you what you need to do, Allison. You already know. You've known for years."
"You think talking about what happened and confessing all my lies to my friends is going to suddenly lift the burden fr
om my shoulders? I can't see how that will help at all. In fact, the thought of it makes me stress out."
A lump forms in my throat, making it hard to talk. Taking a sip of coffee, I attempt to push it down. To work past the anxiety that's creeping in.
"How about you start with one person. Someone you can trust. Who won't judge you. Someone who knows everything else about you."
Megan. Or Zane.
Okay, so Megan. Telling Zane sounds like a really bad idea. One I don't want to entertain. He may know me as well as Megan does, in a more intimate way, but we're not at the stage yet where we can share these kinds of things.
"And then, once you tell them, tell the guy. The one you're in love with."
"Excuse me?" I quickly retort.
"Sweetie, you wouldn't be here unless you were in love with him. You may not be ready to admit it to yourself, but you are. Take your time. Figure it out. But, before you can really let him in, you need to tell him about Kevin and let that part of your life go. I'm not saying forget Kevin or the life you had together. Keep that in heart always. But allow yourself to love again. Allow yourself to feel for someone the way you felt for him. Nothing is wrong with that."
I'm so sick of people telling me how I feel about Zane when I don't even know how I feel about him.
"Before you run away from me again," Harry continues when I toss my napkin on my untouched plate. "Go talk to Kevin. I think you'll find that, as much as it hurts at first, it helps even more."
Talk to my dead husband? Tell him what?
Leaving Harry to finish his breakfast, I pull out of the parking lot and turn toward home. Right then left and then I'm in our driveway.
The house looks the same as it did the day I moved out. The lawn is a little brown from the summer sun, but I'm sure my maintenance guy will water it when he comes by later this week. He needs to trim back the hostas too. They're getting so big you can barely see the mulch in the flower beds.
The front porch could use a fresh coat of paint. The shutters too. I'll have to add those to his list.
I can't imagine how much work needs to be done on the inside. There was a lot that needed to be done when we bought the place. It was summer, though, and we figured we'd spend our time outside while we could and work on indoor renovations once the snow fell.
Rumors: Allison & Zane Page 5
