Broken by Love (The Basin Lake Series Book 2)

by Stephanie Vercier

  “No, the more the merrier.” He sounds like he truly doesn’t care.

  Ready to take a break, I grab a seat as well. “Have you started med school?” I ask, thinking I’d heard him mention it last night at dinner.

  He nods, unenthusiastically, that goofy grin of his nowhere in sight. “Mainly paperwork and a tour today. But tomorrow, it begins. If I can just get a good night of sleep, I’ll be stoked.”

  “You really want to be a doctor though, right? Like your parents aren’t forcing you?”

  “Sure I do, more than anything. I’m just not all that excited to have no life in the process.”

  I’ve always felt a degree of tension with Denny, knowing he’d liked me and that he’d argued with John about it. But with each passing day, he’s become more of a friend. Still, as Denny enters medical school, I realize he’s probably had his fill of female friends and would like to have someone to come home to, someone to take his mind off the stressors of life.

  “I met up with an old friend today,” I say. “Jennifer Egan. We went to school together, and I thought… well… maybe you’d like to meet her too?”

  He stifles a laugh. “You trying to fix me up?”

  “Yeah, I guess I am.” The idea had actually come to me when I’d been at the Egan’s. Jennifer was single for as long as Langston was in California, and so was Denny, and I just had a thought they might click.

  “That’s kind of you, Emma, but I just don’t have the time for that. Not now.”

  “But, I think you’d really like her.”

  “And you probably think it would ease whatever guilt you have about you and I?”

  “I wouldn’t say it’s guilt, Denny. I’ve been honest with you from day one about my feelings for John.”

  “Sure… I know.”

  “But I do feel sad you don’t have somebody.”

  He looks at me for a moment, as if trying to decide on my true intentions. “I appreciate it. Well, hey, I’m tired as hell, so I’m heading up to get some sleep. Say hi to John for me, okay?”

  “Sure… okay.” I’m a little disappointed my attempted love connection didn’t even get off the ground, but it’s not in my nature to push it.

  JOHN

  “So when am I going to meet this mother of yours?” I say after finishing up at the law office and damn glad to be back in Wallingford with Emma.

  “What brought that up?” she asks while she’s tying on her running shoes so we can go for a walk.

  “I’m just beginning to think you’re ashamed of me, and if your mom is going to give me the treatment my parents gave you, I might as well get it over with.”

  She finishes tying the last shoe and stands, her legs mostly bare because of the shorts and a snug tank top over her torso.

  Beautiful.

  “I’m not ashamed of you! Hardly… but I don’t know. I’m sure my mom would love you. It’s just the drinking and all.”

  “I won’t judge,” I say. “I’m not a snob like my parents.”

  She eases a bit. “Okay. I’ll call her tomorrow.”

  “What about right now?”

  “Now?” She looks at me like I’m crazy.

  I stand up and put my hands on each one of her perfectly formed shoulders. “Why not? I had an awful meeting with my mom today, so if it’s going to be bad, I say we double up and make a rightful mess of it.”

  “You had a bad meeting with your mom? John, I’m so sorry.”

  “Now, don’t change the subject on me.” I inch toward her and kiss her forehead. “I love you for your concern, but we’re focusing on your mother.”

  “Oh, fine, like I can say no to you?”

  I smile. “That’s what I like to hear.”

  She picks her phone up from the couch and texts her mom. “There. We’ll see if she even responds.”

  Before she can put the phone down, there’s a chirp, and Emma holds it up.

  “That her?” I ask.

  “It is,” she says. “She says she can meet us wherever.”

  “Then let’s do this.”

  EMMA

  We meet my mother at Greenlake, always popular with people wanting to walk, bike or run along the paved trail circling the decently sized lake, and not all that far from John’s place. I’d suggested to my mom that we meet another day, but she insisted that she’d had a good day at work and didn’t much want to just head home. In fact, she’d mentioned the words thrilled to hear from you in her text back to me.

  In our walking gear, I brace myself as we head toward my mom. She’s sitting on a bench underneath some trees, watching ducks float around in the water.

  “Hi, Mom,” I say, startling her I think.

  “Emma.” She stands up, still wearing her work attire, a light blue silk blouse, a gray pencil skirt and black heels. She looks lovely, nothing like the unkempt mess she is in her robe on the weekends.

  “Hello Mrs. Chambers,” John says, moving toward her and putting out his hand.

  She’d never switched back to her maiden name after the divorce from my dad. I’d once asked her if it was because she hoped they’d get back together someday, and she’d emphatically said, “No! I just happen to like sharing my last name with you. Once you get married and decide to take on your husband’s last name, I’ll reassess.”

  Today, there is a slight tremor in her hand when she takes his, but otherwise, she looks polished and put together. “So, you’re the boy that’s been keeping my daughter away from me,” she says with a smile.

  “I’m afraid I am.” He grins back. “And I can’t say I’d be happy about giving her back to you.”

  “Well, all that matters to me is that she’s happy, and I can tell that she is. Emma even mentioned starting some classes at Seattle Central?”

  “That’s right,” John says, a proud expression on his face as he turns his gaze to me.

  “And you, John? Is it law school you’re going into?”

  “Yes. I start next week actually.”

  “I imagine that will be demanding.”

  “I think I’m prepared,” John says. “I’ll make time for school.”

  “Time for school?” She looks at him, momentarily puzzled.

  “Yeah, well, my main priority is your daughter, but I’ll squeeze school in somewhere.”

  Even if John didn’t mean those words as romantically wonderful as they sound, they’d still be quite affecting. But he does mean them—I know he does—and I can’t help but feel loved and so very special.

  “That’s lovely,” Mom says, sounding gracious and put together, like the Mom she used to be. “I wonder if I might ask for a few moments alone with my daughter?”

  “Mom, I don’t think—”

  “I promise I won’t be saying anything unkind.” There is a very determined look in her eyes.

  “Of course, Mrs. Chambers,” John says. “I’ll do a loop around the lake and meet back up with you?”

  “Okay,” I reply, savoring the light kiss he gives me on the cheek before he blends into the other walkers and runners.

  “He’s very handsome.” Mom edges back to the bench and sits down, patting the empty seat next to her.

  “He’s that, yes… and a lot more.”

  “Very kind, I think. I can see it in his eyes.”

  If I’d been trying to hold back a smile, I certainly can’t stop it now. “He is, Mom, and he makes me feel like I’m the only girl in the world for him.”

  “That’s… magical. I just hope you’re careful. There was another man who made you feel that way, and there were a lot of consequences.”

  “He’s nothing like him,” I shoot back, not even wanting to mention Mr. Thatcher’s name.

  “I’m sure he isn’t. Does he know?”

  “I haven’t told him yet, but I think he’d understand.”

  “About all of it?”

  All of it encompassed so much that it was easier for me not to think about it. I don’t even respond.

  “Well, a
ny man who really loves you would have to I suppose, wouldn’t he?”

  The slight nod I give her is my answer. The idea of telling John about my past still gives me a slight ache in my belly, a fear that becomes more punctuated for every day I spend with him.

  “You look really good, Mom,” I offer, deciding to focus on her instead of me. “Is everything okay?”

  “I’m sober three days,” Mom says with a dullness one wouldn’t expect with such news.

  “Really? That’s great!” I turn to hug her, but the hug she gives in return is weak.

  “It’s only three days,” she says. “I don’t want to get your hopes up. Aiden isn’t on the same page as I am, so the condo is still filled to the gills with alcohol.”

  “Oh,” I say, a bit deflated. “That’s going to be hard.”

  “It will be, but temptation is everywhere. If I can’t handle it in my own home, then I can’t expect to do so elsewhere, now can I?”

  “I guess not. You’ve really thought this out.”

  “I have, and I’ve also thought about you. I’m worried about you, Emma.”

  “Me? Mom, John and I will be okay. I’m sure of it.”

  “Not that,” she says, as if she’s just figured out how solid John and I are. “It’s the drinking. Your drinking.”

  I shake my head. “It’s not an issue, Mom.”

  “No? It’s easy to see the signs once sobriety kicks in. I didn’t think I could tell you a thing because of my own issues, but Emma, I’m really concerned.”

  I’m silent for a moment. I’m not sure I want to tell her that the most recent drink I had was last night at two in the morning. I’d snuck down into the kitchen at John’s and poured myself two shots of vodka after I’d woken from a nightmare about Mr. Thatcher—he was holding John just under the surface of a shallow lake and trying to drown him. I wasn’t even sure that I hadn’t screamed when I’d woken up, but thankfully, John had remained soundly asleep. After I’d calmed myself down, I’d gone upstairs to the guest bathroom, mercilessly brushing my teeth and downing enough mouthwash to kill an army of bacteria.

  “I need it,” I finally say, ashamed to speak those words out loud.

  “Then it’s a problem,” Mom says, not in a judging way, but in a rational, sober one.

  “But it’s better than it was, when I was with Ike… or going out.”

  “Even so, you could go to meetings. I’ve been to two. I’m going to one tonight as well. It helps. It really does.”

  “I’m not that far gone yet. I can do this on my own.”

  “Well, I’m here if you need me.” Mom takes my hand in hers. “And I think maybe you need to reach out to your father.”

  I pull my hand away at even the mention of him. “Why? So he can skip out on our planned meetings?”

  “I think he needs to know how much it bothers you, Emma. Maybe if he knew—”

  “He won’t care,” I shoot back.

  “Well, you won’t know unless you try.”

  The only reason I don’t bury her suggestion into the back of my head is because of how pleasantly surprised I’d been in introducing John to my mom who is an entirely different person when she’s sober.

  “I suppose I could as long as Liz isn’t still acting as his gatekeeper.” Sometimes I feel like I might actually see my father on occasion if not for my stepmother.

  “You just have to learn how to deal with her, Emma. It’s that OCD that makes her so nuts, makes her so—”

  “Unwilling to allow me to see Dad… or the kids?”

  “Afraid is what I was going to say. And your dad is a grown man, isn’t he? If he wants to see you, he can’t use his wife as an excuse not to.”

  “I guess you’re right. Things are just going so well with John that I don’t want to put any extra stress on us if things go less well with Dad.”

  Mom puts her hand over mine. “Or maybe it’s finally time for everything to go your way. Did you ever think about that?”

  I do think about it, allow it to rattle around in my head after Mom leaves and John and I take a lap around the lake together. When we’re done, back home, and John has fallen asleep, I take my phone out and text my dad, asking to meet.

  When he texts back almost as quickly as Mom had earlier, I can’t help but to feel hopeful and decide that even if I have another one of those awful nightmares tonight, I won’t need a drink.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  EMMA

  When my father cancels an hour before our planned meeting, I feel a hollow pang in the pit of my stomach.

  Something came up with the kids. Can’t get out of it. Very sorry Emma. Reschedule?

  I don’t bother replying. Of course something came up with them, the children I’m barely allowed to see because Liz thinks I’d be a bad influence, that I don’t fit into one of her perfect little boxes that won’t allow Dad’s old family to be commingled with this new one.

  “Sometimes it’s nice to have a clean break,” she’d once said to me in a voice that was both nervous and cheery.

  I’m thankful at least that he cancelled while I’m alone at the house, John and Denny in school and Stephen at work. It allows me to slowly pour the alcohol and drink it in peace, closing my eyes as each shot burns down my throat, numbing me enough so that I can at least pretend I don’t care about my dad’s cancellation.

  When I finish the fourth shot, I reluctantly stop. I have homework that needs to be done, and I don’t want John to see me drunk. It will only lead to questions and perhaps disappointment, ending the night with me feeling pitiful and John upset.

  I screw the lid back onto the bottle and push it to the very back of the liquor cabinet. Mom’s words resonate with me. Perhaps I do have a problem, but it’s not one I’m ready to face today.

  JOHN

  Emma is asleep when I get home. I’m surprised to even see her. I’d thought she was going to dinner with her dad tonight, but maybe it had been an early one. I don’t want to wake her, so I head back downstairs where Denny is eating takeout and pouring over some medical books.

  “How’s it going,” I ask him, joining him at the large dining room table with my laptop, hoping I can get some studying done as well.

  He shrugs. “Could be better. I’ve got some hard-ass instructors, but it’s med school, so what do you expect?”

  “Well, I guess we’re both gluttons for punishment. Law school isn’t going to be a walk in the park either.”

  “Tell me about it. Emma here?”

  “She’s sleeping,” I say. “And, I uh… realize I never officially asked you and Stephen if you minded her basically living with us.”

  “Doesn’t bother me,” Denny says. “She cleans the house, and she tried to offer me money for utilities the other day.”

  I laugh. “Yeah, I told her she didn’t need to worry about that. So, she went to you, huh?”

  Denny finally smiles. “She’s very aware of everything and everyone around her. She’s not self centered the way her friend was.”

  “Angela.” I’d meant to ask Emma if she’d heard from her lately.

  “Yeah, as much as Stephen probably thought he was just using her for sex, I think she had the same idea.”

  We both laugh at that, and I’m grateful for it. My friendship with Denny has been strained ever since we’d met Emma, maybe even before that when I finally broke up with Madison. I’m not sure he believed it was actually going to take.

  “Do you still have… an interest in Emma?” I ask, more thinking out loud than anything and wishing I could walk it back when Denny’s expression turns back into a frown.

  “You want the truthful answer, or you want me just to make something up?”

  “I’d like the truth.” Now I’m not so sure.

  “She tried to fix me up with a friend of hers the other day, but I told her no, not because I wouldn’t like to meet someone, but because I still have some residual feelings for her… for Emma.”

  I swallow hard. That’s
not really the answer I was looking for, and I’m not sure I completely understand it. How could he have residual feelings for a girl he’d never dated… never even kissed?

  “You’re mad now,” Denny says, picking his chopsticks back up and snatching some broccoli from his takeout box.

  “No. You were honest, man. That’s all I care about.”

  “Okay, cool,” he says after he’s chewed and swallowed his food, as eager as I am to drop it.

  He takes a long pull off the beer in front of him, and I get up and grab one for myself. When I snap the top off the bottle, I realize that I am bothered. Denny might not be Emma’s first choice, but he’s a solid, nice looking guy, and I have a sudden fear that if something goes wrong with Emma and I, that Denny just might swoop in and take her away from me.

  The weekend comes quickly, and I’ve not spent near enough time with Emma. She’s doing both school and work, and my program is as demanding as I’d imagined. I should probably get a leg up and study for the next two days, but as I watch Emma fold her laundry, a vision that is more intoxicating than one might imagine, I have an urge to whisk her away from the city.

  “How about we go somewhere this weekend? Just you and me.”

  “Like where?” She gives me a cute look of intrigue as she finishes folding up some lace panties.

  “Far enough to feel like a vacation. Maybe the Oregon Coast?”

  “I don’t know,” she says. “I promised my Mom I’d stop over and help her go through some stuff for Goodwill.”

  “Would she really hate you if you had to reschedule? It might be good for you, and how many full weekends do you have off from work anyway?”

  “Not many,” she says, then adds, “and why would it only be good for me?” She throws a suspicious glance my way.

  “Well, for both of us of course, but you do seem a little… down.”

  “Do I really?”

  “Yes, Emma, you do.” While she’s been putting on a brave face, she’d had to admit to me her father cancelled that dinner they were supposed to have, and I think it’s having more of an effect on her than she’s letting on.

  She sighs. “I could try. It’s just that my mom is kind of pack rat, and if she wants to clear some things out, it could be now or never. I suppose she’d understand though.”