Wolves, Witches and Bears...Oh My!

by Nicky Charles

  “To me, you’re the one being difficult.” He crossed his arms. “I want you to come home, Lucy.”

  “You want. But what about what I want?”

  “You don’t want to be with me?” There was definitely a hurt tone in his voice.

  “No. I mean yes. I do want to be with you. I’m just not sure I want to go back to Stump River.”

  He looked away. She noticed how his hand was curling into a fist. “I can’t live in a big city. It’s not right for me.”

  “I know.” She felt her throat tighten.

  “These courses you’re studying, could you take them in Canada? I know Stump River has nothing but maybe in Timmins?”

  She shrugged and stared down at the sheet. “Maybe. It’s hours away though and I don’t know if I can even transfer my credits.”

  He was silent. She knew he wanted her to give up everything and return home, for things to go back to what they were; but she didn’t know if she could do it.

  “I…I want more for myself, Armand. You know that’s what I always talked about, getting away from being in a small town, making a fresh start, not being ‘good old Lucy’. This is my chance to follow my dream.” She looked at him, tears pricking her eyes.

  “At the expense of mine?” He pressed his lips firmly together and shook his head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  She wanted to ask him what his dreams were, but didn’t know if she could handle the answer. What if he said he loved her? He’d not spoken the words or proposed any kind of definite future for them, but she was sure that was what he meant. If he did, if he spilled his heart, would she change her mind?

  Could she change her mind and still be true to herself?

  An ache began to grow in her chest. His silence was probably for the best. Hurting him, making him beg, was the last thing she wanted to do.

  “Armand, you’ve always been so good to me. When my mother died, you gave me a job, you watched over me as I grew up, listened to me grumble when I broke up with someone—"

  “Do not say I’ve been like a father to you!” He swung his legs out of bed and sat with his back to her.

  “No! Never a father! Not even a brother.” She crawled over the mattress until she was behind him, her hands resting on his shoulders, the tension evident in the tautness of his muscles. “You were a very good friend and maybe…maybe something more. But the timing wasn’t right for you back then, I guess.”

  “I thought you were too young.” He leaned forward and her hands slid from his back. “Now it seems I should have taken you up on your offer all those years ago.”

  “Maybe, but we can’t change the past.” She reached out to touch him then stopped, her hand hovering in mid air. The time for touching was gone.

  “And now the timing isn’t right for you.”

  “No. No, it isn’t.” She sank back on her heels increasing the distance between them as if that would lessen the hurt. It didn’t.

  “Last night, I purchased two tickets back home.” He swallowed hard. “It seems I only have need of one now.”

  She didn’t reply, her throat so tight no sound could escape. It didn’t matter though. There was nothing left to say.

  “The flight leaves tonight at seven. I should get dressed. There are a few things I need to do before I leave.” He stood and reached for his clothes.

  “Can I make you breakfast or tea or something?” She watched him dress, fighting the urge to give in, to agree to go with him. But if she did, would she resent the decision in years to come? Grow bitter and come to hate him for what she’d given up?

  “Non, merci. I’m sure you’re tired after yesterday.”

  She wanted to say she’d never be too tired to do something for him. Instead, she kept silent, putting on her old glasses and wrapping a robe around herself, then following him to the door.

  He stopped in the small entryway, one hand pressed to the wooden door, his shoulders slumped rather than his usual straight posture. Guilt ate away at her. She’d done this to him by not giving in. Or maybe it was his own doing because he’d waited too long and then expected too much.

  She blinked trying to clear her vision. The old prescription in her glasses meant his image was already blurry and now, now she could barely make out his face through the watery sheen of tears.

  Damn, why couldn’t things be different? He was a good man, kind and gentle and he cared for her, loved her even though he’d never said the words. Why wasn’t that enough for her? Years ago, it would have been. Maybe she was wrong…

  He turned and cupped her face, his thumb brushing over her cheek, lingering on the scar he called her badge of courage before catching the tears that spilled from her eyes.

  “I’m sorry, Lucy. I never wanted to make you cry.”

  “It’s not your fault or mine. We’re just at the wrong place in our lives.”

  His sorrowful gaze traced over her features. “Do you think we’ll ever be in the right place?”

  “I…I don’t know. I hope so but…” She licked her lips and forced herself to say the words she knew she needed to say. “I want you to be happy, Armand. So, if you find someone, someone who is in the right place in their life, I want you to—”

  He pressed a finger to her lips and shook his head. “No. Don’t say this, Lucy.”

  She kissed his finger, then took his hand in hers, inter-twining their fingers and holding them to her heart. “Armand, I’m trying to be realistic, to do the right thing even though it’s killing me inside. You deserve to be happy.”

  “I don’t know if I can set you free like that.”

  “It’s okay. I don’t want anyone else.” She reached up and stroked a stray curl from his cheek, felt the scratch of his beard one last time.

  He turned, pressing a kiss her palm then traced her features with his lips. “You’re so beautiful, so kind and sweet and spirited. From the moment I saw you, I knew.” His forehead pressed to hers, his eyes shut, he took a ragged breath. “If you find someone, I want you to know, to remember…I…I loved you.” He pulled her into his arms, gave her a searing kiss, holding nothing back, molded her body so tightly to his they seemed one and then…he was gone.

  Stunned, she stood there. Without his strong grip around her, she felt lost, weak, hardly able to breathe. She stumbled back, leaned against the wall and wrapped her arms around herself trying to retain the warmth of his body as long as possible. She could still feel the light rasp of his stubble on her skin, smell the scent of his woodsy cologne. The taste of his mouth mixed with the saltiness of tears and she was sure she could still hear the faint rumble that always sounded in his chest.

  If letting him go was the right thing to do, then why did it feel so wrong? Her heart was breaking into a gazillion pieces each sharp shard more painful than the last... He loved her. He’d said he loved her!

  She should follow him.

  Tell him she loved him, too. That…that…

  She shook her head. Those three words had changed everything and nothing.

  There was an indescribable pressure squeezing her chest. She struggled to breathe, to think. The world was swirling around her, the light being swallowed by an enormous dark cloud. Her legs no longer able to support her, she slid down the wall as a sob broke from her throat followed by another and then another until she was drowning in a puddle of sorrow.

  Chapter 22

  Roxi pounded up the stairs to the apartment. After her conversation with Dante the previous night, she’d headed to Club Mystique hoping to hear some rumours about what had gone down in the alley or even to learn more about this new subversive group. Instead, she’d met a guy on the way there. He’d been at the pizza place where she’d stopped for a snack. With a love of pepperoni, green olives and extra cheese between them, it seemed a promising relationship and she’d ended up spending the night with him. He was nice, not a keeper, but an enjoyable way to pass the evening and part of the morning.

  A smile on her lips, she
rounded the last flight of stairs, only to slow when she saw the apartment door ajar. That was strange. Lulu was security crazy and Armand seemed the same way, always checking the windows and door.

  Approaching cautiously, she cocked her head to the side, listening. There was a soft sound, a sniff and a hiccup followed by hitched breathing.

  Lulu was crying!

  She burst into the apartment only to trip over something or rather someone. It was Lulu, huddled on the floor, her face blotchy, her eyes swollen.

  “What’s wrong? What happened?” She crouched down, completely flummoxed. Lulu had never been in a state like this before. “Where’s Armand?”

  “Gone.” She choked out the word and wiped her face on the sleeve of her robe.

  Roxi noticed the sleeve was already thoroughly stained with tears and so was its partner. The tissue box that usually sat on the entryway table was beside her, its contents now damp crumpled balls strewn about the floor.

  “Armand’s gone? Why? Where?” She checked behind her into the hallway expecting to see him climbing the stairs. “Is he coming back?”

  Her questions produced another bout of crying and indecipherable explanations, so she opted for pulling Lulu to her feet and leading her to the sofa. Next, she found more tissues, got her a glass of water and then sat beside her making comforting noises while trying to figure out what the hell was going on. She’d been sure the two would have spent the night having hot sex and making plans for the future. It seems she’d been wrong.

  Eventually she figured out what was going on and shook her head. “Well that sucks.”

  “I know.” Lulu dabbed at her face, completely cried out.

  “If you both love each other, there should be a way to work things out, right?”

  “I don’t know.” She shredded the tissue in her hand. “We both want such different things. He belongs in Stump River and I can’t go back.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Lulu took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You know, I remember my mother crying like this whenever one of her boyfriends would leave. I used to think she was being melodramatic or weak. Now I know how much it hurts to lose someone you love.”

  Roxi bit her lip and then made an admission. “I’ve never really loved anyone.”

  “No?” Lulu looked at her, her damp lashes dark and spikey against her pale face. “Then why did I have to suffer through all that moping around after you broke up with someone?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. But I never really loved any of them. I mean I’ve liked guys, but I knew inside if I never saw them again, it was okay. Now food, that’s a totally different story. I love food!” She tried to inject some humour into the conversation.

  Lulu gave a weak smile. “I’ve thought I was in love before and felt sad when the relationship ended, but I never let myself cry. I told myself I was strong and I wasn’t going to be like my mother and fall apart over a man. I guess I’m not so strong after all.”

  “I don’t think it’s a question of strength. Opening yourself up to someone takes guts because you know there’s a chance you can get hurt. From the looks of you, it must be painful.”

  “It is.” She looked down at the tissue she’d been shredding again. “Sometimes I wonder why she kept trying, knowing the odds of getting hurt again.”

  “I suppose she must have really believed her true love was out there somewhere.”

  “Yeah.” Lulu tipped her head back and looked upward. “You were a lot braver than I ever knew, Mom. You were always willing to share your heart and you never gave up looking.”

  “Did she ever find her true love?”

  “No.” Lulu shook her head. “She got sick one year and never recovered.”

  “That’s sad.”

  “Yep.”

  They sat in silence for a while until Roxi’s stomach growled. It sounded exceptionally loud in the quiet room and both of them started to giggle.

  “You didn’t have enough breakfast?”

  “No.” Roxi made an exaggerated pouty face, pleased to see Lulu smile and wanting to keep her happy. “Todd—he’s this guy I met last night—didn’t have hardly anything in his kitchen. That’s how I know he won’t be a keeper. If a man is right for me, his fridge will be well stocked and so will his pants.”

  Lulu laughed and then her stomach growled and they both dissolved into hysterics. When they finally sobered, Lulu got up and headed towards the kitchen.

  “I’ll make us something to eat.”

  “I can do it. You look like a disaster. Go take a shower and by the time you’re done I’ll have some pancakes whipped up for us.”

  Lou let the hot water pound on her, hoping to wash away the evidence of her crying jag. She felt empty inside, exhausted, her muscles limp. Crying was supposed to be healing but right now she wasn’t so sure.

  Turning off the water, she stepped out of the tub and began to dry off. The room was steamy and she wiped at the mirror, then peered closely trying to see her reflection. Her face was still blotchy, her scar seemed more noticeable and her eyes puffy. She looked awful. Did cucumber slices really work on puffy eyes?

  She leaned back and put on her old glasses; at least they hid some of the puffiness even if they did leave the world blurry. Getting replacement lenses was a must, she couldn’t go around squinting at everything.

  A wave of regret passed over her as she recalled Armand saying he’d help her pick out new frames. He really had hated the old ones. And he’d been right. She’d purposely picked the ugliest pair she could find wanting to be the antithesis of the person she’d been before the accident.

  Was that why she didn’t want to go back to Stump River? Was it getting her degree that kept her here or was she afraid she’d become ‘good old Lucy’ again if she returned to the town? She wasn’t sure. However, she would pick nicer frames this time, maybe even look into getting contacts. Armand had said he’d always loved her eyes.

  That thought threatened to bring on a new wave of sadness, so she quickly finished getting dressed and wandered out to the kitchen where the smell of pancakes and fresh coffee was emanating. She found a mug, filled it with the hot morning brew and took a sip.

  “This is pretty good. How come you’ve never made me coffee before?”

  “Don’t get used to it,” Roxi warned as she stacked pancakes on a plate. “This is an exclusive post-breakup meal.”

  “Hey, I’ve made you a lot of post-breakup breakfasts.”

  “You mean you’re already planning your next failed…” Roxi’s voice trailed off. “Sorry. That was meant to be funny.”

  She gave a one-shouldered shrug. “It’s okay. And don’t worry, I’m not going to do this again.”

  “You’re signing off on men?”

  “Maybe.” She stared down into her cup of coffee, the dark brown liquid reminding her of the colour of Armand’s eyes. “I can’t picture myself with anyone else.”

  “What about Armand? Is he going to grow old pining away for you?”

  The thought of him with another woman made her stomach roil but she tried to put on a brave face. “I told him he should try to find someone.”

  “That was disgustingly noble of you.”

  “Disgustingly noble?”

  “Yep. When I break up with a guy, even if I didn’t love him, I hope his dick withers.”

  She choked on her coffee.

  Roxi helpfully thumped her on the back before setting two plates of pancakes on the table.

  “Dig in.” Roxi shoved a large bite in her mouth and then talked between chewing. “You know, the best thing to do is to get right back on that horse and go out with someone else.”

  “Isn’t that what I always tell you?”

  “So, listen to your own advice.” She waved her fork about. “What about that Neil guy?”

  “Neil?” There was no spark when she thought about him. In fact, she seriously doubted she’d ever feel a spark again. “No.”

  “Well, ke
ep him in mind. You never know.” She frowned, a forkful of pancakes partway to her mouth. “Hey, shouldn’t you have gone to work today?”

  “Work? Oh crap!” She raced for the phone and punched in the number. It rang numerous times but no one answered. “They must be really short-handed.”

  “Or closed. Think about it. You’re not there. Kathy’s not there. And Jeff probably didn’t go back. Who would have even been there to open the place?”

  She hadn’t considered that. “Gin probably called poor old Mr. Henderson and he’d have to try to get a hold of Dylan, and by the time Dylan got there the breakfast rush would be done. What a mess!”

  “Mr. Henderson is really old, isn’t he?”

  She nodded. “He’s been talking about retiring, selling the business. This could be enough to push him into it.” The impact such a change might have on her life had her worrying her lip.

  “Well, it’s too late to do anything about it now. Finish this amazing meal I made you and then either go down to the diner or call one of the other staff and get the scoop.”

  “Right.” She sat down, her stomach uneasy. If the diner was sold, there was no guarantee she’d keep her job. Without it, she wouldn’t be able to afford the apartment or the tuition for her college courses. Things were tight as they were, and while she might qualify for an educational grant, would that be enough?

  Maybe we should have taken Armand up on his offer.

  No, she had her pride. There was a time when she was younger that she might have expected a man to take care of her but not anymore. She’d find a way to raise the money, no matter what. And maybe she wouldn’t lose her job, there was no point in assuming the worst, right? She’d head to the diner after breakfast and find out what was happening, then go to the optician. With that plan in mind, she finished her meal and prepared to set out.

  “Roxi, where did you put my purse?” She looked around the apartment, peering under her bed, in the closet, beside the sofa.

  “Your purse? It’s… Oh...” Roxi’s voice trailed off as she stood at the sink doing the dishes. “You asked me to keep an eye on it, didn’t you?”