“I can’t imagine what it was like,” Elise said, taking a sip of her drink.
Matty inclined her head. “No, you can’t. And I don’t mean that dismissively. I just mean that, after a while, the press stops reporting things because it becomes old news. ‘Another seven-year-old gunned down in the streets,’ or ‘another fifteen-year-old girl gang-raped and beaten,’ begins to lose its novelty after the fourth or fifth in a single year. And if the press doesn’t cover it, it’s as if it didn’t happen.” She fell silent for a moment, thinking of all the ruined lives.
“If you were at all like me the night of the storm, you spent a lot of hours in that basement,” Elise commented after a bit.
Matty lifted a shoulder. “We did. And they were long hours, too.”
“But good?”
Matty tilted her head in thought then answered. “In some ways, yes.”
“And last night Steven White came to town and Dash threw all those hours away as if they were meaningless.” Elise’s comment was so abrupt that Matty’s head whipped up in surprise—at the fact that Elise knew about Steven, but mostly at her insight into what was really at the heart of the problem.
Because that was what was really the problem. For Dash to have so easily ignored, or not recognized, or not valued, the meaning of everything that had happened between them that night in the basement was what really stung. It wasn’t the words that mattered when they’d talked, but everything it meant for her to decide to share them with him.
Matty took a long sip of her drink then swirled the ice around in the empty glass. “It doesn’t feel good, that’s for sure,” she said.
“Of course not,” Elise replied, rising and taking Matty’s glass with her—this time filling it with water before handing it back.
“I suppose I should just get over it, I mean it’s kind of a no-harm-no-foul kind of situation. It felt like a big deal to me, talking to him about my past, but maybe it wasn’t, maybe I’m overreacting. Not that that excuses him, but . . .” Matty’s voice trailed off and she shrugged.
“Don’t be ridiculous, dear,” Elise shot back. “Putting Dash’s behavior aside for the moment, how do you feel right now? And I don’t mean how do you feel about Dashiell Kent, I mean how do you feel?”
Several beats passed before Matty spoke. “Disappointed, I guess,” she said softly. “Sad, too. I feel like I should be angry, but I’m not. Not really. But none of that, none of those emotions really get me anywhere, do they? They don’t change anything.”
“Don’t they?” Elise countered. Matty looked up from her glass.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” Elise said with a wave of her hand. “Don’t look at me like I’m some kind of relationship guru who will tap her magic wand and make everything alright. I’ll have you know that my relationship with my late husband was complex and sloppy and definitely not one that inspired sage advice.” Elise paused for a moment, looking lost in some sort of memory. That she’d been married at all surprised Matty, though the minute Elise had mentioned it, Matty couldn’t picture it any other way.
“But?” Matty prompted.
“But it was also fun and he was the love of my life,” Elise said simply. “He died when I was forty-five. It’s not that I lacked suitors or male company afterward, but I figured I’d done the marriage thing, I didn’t need to do it a second time. Or third, for that matter, at my age. So I’ve stayed single.”
“And avoided dispensing relationship advice,” Matty added.
“But I’ve never shied away from telling someone what I think about them.”
“Which means you have something to tell me,” Matty responded.
“I do. You think that all the things you’re feeling right now, this tangled mass of mixed emotions, won’t get you anywhere so you might as well not feel them, right? Wrong,” Elise continued, not waiting for Matty to respond. “Whatever it is you’re feeling, savor it, wallow in it, absorb it, and understand it. It will change things. It might not change the facts of what happened, it might not change the fact that Dash didn’t come straight here to talk to you after he met Steven White, but it will change you. If you let it.
“It can change how you look at yourself, how you think about yourself, and how you deal with disappointments in the future. Because believe me, there will be more disappointments in life. And you should really believe me when I say that when you share your life with someone, like I suspect you and Dash might end up doing, you will disappoint each other at some point, probably more than once. It’s almost as much a fact of life as death and taxes, but how you deal with it, what you do with that disappointment, is what will really define you, both as individuals and as a couple. It’s what will make or break you. And if there is anything I’ve learned about you, from Brad and my short acquaintance with you, you aren’t one to break,” she added, fixing Matty with a firm look.
Matty studied her neighbor for a long time, letting the truth and meaning of her words sink in. She had never thought of her emotions as a tool before, as a way to make her stronger, better. Mostly because she’d never let herself really have them, for all the reasons she had talked to Dash about. They would have been used against her in her childhood, but the idea of using them to make her stronger was a novelty. A concept she found both appealing and terrifying at the same time.
“So, if I don’t let it break me, how do I let it make me? How do I let it help me deal with Dash?” Matty asked tentatively.
Elise shrugged. “That, my dear, is up to you. But Brad, who followed you and your career from afar, was never shy in talking about how much he admired your strength and resolve. I don’t think it will be all that hard for you to figure it out. Of course, it doesn’t hurt that Mary and Will Kent didn’t raise any idiot children, even though it might not seem that way at the moment.”
Matty had to smile at that. She actually had no problem picturing Mary and Will being completely exasperated with their son for his behavior. It didn’t change things, it didn’t change the disappointment she felt when she thought about how easy it was for Dash to doubt her, but it did make her smile. And it reminded her that Dash had a solid foundation as a person; he was a good person, with a good family and good friends. He may not be acting that way right now, but everyone made mistakes. Despite everything, she knew that the core of who he was hadn’t changed. And in recognizing that, in allowing herself to look beyond the immediate hurt Dash’s reaction had caused, she felt a sense of relief wash through her. The hurt wasn’t gone, and she wasn’t going to sweep the events of the last twenty-four hours under the rug, but she knew in her heart, and her head, that somehow, they could sort things out.
“If that look on your face is anything to go by, I think I’ve done my good deed for the day,” Elise said, rising from her seat as the dogs started barking. Matty shook her head and shrugged when Elise cast her a questioning glance, asking without words if she knew who was visiting.
Staying in her seat, Matty watched as Elise opened the screen door and poked her head out.
“I think the cavalry is here,” Elise said, turning back from the doorway with a huge grin splitting her age-weathered face.
“Excuse me?” Matty asked as she rose from her seat and walked to the patio. Just in time to see Vivi, Kit, Carly, and another woman climb out of Vivi’s car. All of whom seemed to be carrying bottles that looked suspiciously like champagne.
Matty let out a groan. It’s not that she didn’t appreciate the obvious effort to cheer her up, but the thought of champagne following her gin and tonics was already giving her a hangover. And judging by the way Vivi was grinning as she led the group up the drive to the patio, Matty had a sneaking suspicion that what she was imagining she would feel the next morning was nothing compared to what Vivi had in mind.
***
Dash was sitting at the bar of Anderson’s when Marcus pulled a seat up next to him. It was late, he was tired, and he still hadn’t figured out what to do about Matty. In his gut he kn
ew there was more to the story than he knew, than what his imagination was hinting at. But that little part of him, that little part that freaked out at the thought of sharing the rest of his life with someone, wasn’t so little right now. If he really thought about it, he might even wager that he was using the congressman’s appearance as an excuse to avoid commitment. But that was so lame on so many levels, not the least of which was the fact that spending the rest of his life with Matty wasn’t actually scary at all.
But still, something held him back. What if it was true? How well did they really know each other, anyway? Matty was the one who was always pointing that out. What if she’d been trying to tell him something?
He took a sip of his whiskey.
Marcus ordered a beer, saying nothing to Dash. When it arrived, he took a long drink. Placing the glass back on the bar, he spoke. “I saw Matty earlier.”
Dash clenched his teeth. He didn’t like the younger man’s tone, but he said nothing.
“It was interesting, actually. We had an interesting chat. Oh, by the way, she found what we think is the knife that cut off Bob’s toe. I handed it off to Vivi to take up to the lab. Kind of freaked Matty out, but she has a good eye for that kind of stuff. Found it out in the field and recognized the fur caught in the hinge of the switchblade.”
Dash flinched at the thought of someone with a switchblade anywhere near Matty. “Is she okay?” he asked without thinking.
Marcus took another sip of beer and tipped his head toward his shoulder in a vague gesture. “She’d be better if you weren’t being a complete asshole, but other than that, she’s fine.”
“I’d be better if he wasn’t being a complete asshole,” Ian added, walking up behind the two men and joining them at the bar.
“Vivienne heard what happened,” he continued, “and now she’s rallied the troops for some girl-power hour or something like that because you’re being such an asshole.” Ian glared at Dash. “She, Carly, Kit, and Jesse are headed over to Matty’s house right now with a couple of bottles of champagne. We have so damn much of the stuff since we got engaged,” he grumbled, mostly to himself. “If only our well-wishers would send beer. Or whiskey,” he added.
“Jesse?” Dash asked Ian, thinking of their mutual friend. “Matty doesn’t even know who she is,” he commented. Jesse was another born-and-raised Windsor resident. She ran the hospital down in Riverside, and though she hadn’t been in the same class as Dash or Ian, their school had been small enough that most of the kids stayed friends, even into adulthood.
Ian ordered himself a whiskey, too. “Yeah, well, Jesse and Vivienne have become friends, and Jesse’s also friends with Kit and Carly, so they included her in the powwow. Now, I’m alone for the evening, without my fiancée, so thanks a ton, Kent. Well done.”
Marcus chuckled. Dash got the sense that they knew more about what was going on than he did, but he didn’t want to talk about it. Mostly because he had a sinking feeling they were right, and now all his doubts were slowly melding into a panic that he’d fucked up big time—so big time that he might not be able to make it right. Especially after the time he and Matty had spent in the basement during the storm when she’d talked to him about everything and everyone. That night, those words, had been a big step for her. And how did he repay her? By doubting everything she felt about him.
“Fuck,” he said, taking another sip of whiskey.
“Yep,” Ian said, sipping his.
Marcus just laughed.
CHAPTER 21
DASH WOKE UP WITH A MILD HANGOVER the next morning. He hadn’t had too much the night before at the bar, not enough to impair his ability to get home, but once he was home, when he knew he had a backup vet on call and could actually get a good night’s sleep, he’d opened his own bottle of whiskey and partook of another glass or two. Long into the night, he’d thought about Matty. By now, he knew he’d messed things up. He’d let his own insecurity lead him to a bad decision and now he was just hoping it wasn’t too late to fix it. He had thought about calling her when he got home, but knowing Vivi and the other women were with her deterred him. Lord knew what they were talking about or saying about him, but he probably deserved every word.
He rolled over, looked at the clock, and groaned. The pancake breakfast started in two hours and if he wanted to catch Matty beforehand, he needed to be up soon. Flopping back onto his back, he rubbed a hand over his face and stared at the ceiling. He was just getting ready to pull himself out of bed when his phone rang.
Hoping it was Matty, he grabbed the phone and answered without looking at the number. And was more than a little disappointed when he heard his mother’s voice.
“Good morning, Dash,” she said. And somehow his own disappointment in himself paled in comparison to the same sentiment he heard in her voice. Huh, clearly she was on the Matty bandwagon, for which he couldn’t actually blame her, even if he didn’t feel up to dealing with it this morning.
“I’m on it, Mom,” he said, responding to her unspoken accusation.
“I should certainly hope so. I did not raise my children to be assholes.”
Dash blinked at the curse. His mother never cursed. “I said, I’m on it.”
She harrumphed.
“I take it you talked to her?” he ventured to ask.
“Of course I talked to her. Yesterday. Unlike you, I might add.”
“I don’t need the reminder, Mom.”
“Well, you certainly need to be reminded of some things, that’s for sure.”
He sighed. “How is she?”
His mother’s voice softened when she answered. “She didn’t say anything specifically about you, which I’m sure doesn’t surprise you. But I think she’s hurt.”
“And angry?”
“You should hope she’s angry. Anger is often easier to deal with than hurt,” his mother countered. He had never thought of it that way, but now that his mother had vocalized it, he saw the truth in what she said. Especially for a woman like Matty. Anger would come easily for her, but to be hurt, to allow herself to be close enough to someone to be hurt by him, well, that was rare.
“So, what’s the story?”
He should have known better than to ask. His mother let out a bark of laughter before answering. “Nice try, Dash, you dug yourself into this. And don’t believe it will be the last time you, or she, does something dumb or thoughtless—you’ve got a lot of years ahead of you, Son. You need to figure your own way out of this one. You both do.”
Dash let out another deep breath. He hadn’t expected any different, but still, a little part of him hoped his mom would throw him a lifeline.
He sat up in bed and swung his legs over the side. “I’m on my way over to her house right now,” he said.
“Good, but you’d better hurry. She’s due at the breakfast site in less than an hour.”
“And she‘ll be there all day?”
“Yes, she’s planning on it. But I told her she might want to consider leaving early since she helped so much yesterday with the prep work and is going to be there early to help set up.”
“Great, thanks, Mom,” he said as he headed toward the shower.
His mom paused for moment before answering. “You’re welcome. And Dash? For what it’s worth, I like her. I really do.”
Dash inhaled deeply, amazed at how his mother’s approval made him feel. It wasn’t that he needed her approval—really, he’d never doubted that his parents would like Matty—but the tone of his mother’s voice was so genuine that he knew she liked Matty because of who Matty was, not just because he did. And because she liked Matty, his mother now wanted what was best not just for Dash, but for Matty, too.
“Yeah, I do, too,” he said.
“Then you’ll go fix it?”
“If you ever stop talking to me long enough for me to get in the shower so I can be presentable, then, yeah, I’ll go fix it.”
“I can still cause you a world of hurt, Son. You remember that.”
> Dash laughed at the love he heard in his mom’s voice. “I don’t doubt it.”
She was still laughing when they hung up and quick as he could, Dash tried to make good on his promise to his mom.
When he pulled up Matty’s drive thirty minutes later, he saw her walking toward her car wearing shorts and a t-shirt, her favorite kind of outfit. Her black hair was pulled up into a ponytail and she was carrying a variety of cooking utensils in one hand as she pressed her phone to her ear with the other.
She froze when she saw him, just for a millisecond, then continued on to her car. The top of her convertible was pulled back and she easily dumped the utensils into the passenger seat as he climbed out of his truck.
“Yes, I’ll be there most of the morning. No, I’m doing okay. If you’d like to come, I’m sure Rob can tell you where it is, but I’ll be busy.” She stopped talking for a moment then made a conciliatory noise, said good-bye, and ended her call.
She stood facing her car for a moment before she turned to face him.
“I’m sorry,” he said as soon as her eyes met his. “I don’t know the whole story, but I know you wouldn’t have talked to me the way you did the night of the storm unless I really meant something to you, and I also know you well enough to know you aren’t the two-timing type. I’ve been a complete jerk and I just hope that I haven’t completely fucked things up.”
He’d taken a gamble mentioning that night in the basement. In some ways the fact that that night had happened just before Steven White had come to town, made the situation worse. He knew she was feeling more vulnerable. He knew she had stepped out onto the proverbial emotional limb. But on the other hand, the fact that she had stepped out on that limb, the fact that they had talked about all the things they had talked about, did mean something. And he was banking on that something to be what they needed as common ground for finding their way back.
These Sorrows We See Page 29
