Wild Card

by Karina Halle

  I pull back, wiping at my face. “But I don’t want to be angry anymore. I understand. It took me a long time but I understand. I know you loved me, you were just afraid.”

  “I was afraid and I was a coward,” she says, her voice warbling though she’s trying to sound strong. “No mother should ever choose her husband before her daughter, should never choose herself. Darling, I was in such denial over what was happening to me, to hear what was happening to you…I couldn’t bare it. I couldn’t deal. It just – poof – my brain spit it right back out. But I knew, I knew deep down you were telling the truth, I just didn’t have the courage to face it. I will never, ever forgive myself for it. I’ve betrayed you in the most horrific way possible and I’ll spend my whole life making it right even though I know it won’t be.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “It’s not okay,” she says and now she’s crying, big tears that spill down her pale face and onto the linoleum floor. “It’s not okay and it will never be okay. And that’s something I have to live with. I can never go back and change the past and what I did, or didn’t do, will stick with me. But going forward, I can only love you and pray you’ll give me a second chance.”

  “Of course I will,” I sob to her, leaning against her shoulder. “You don’t need to ask. It’s just there. I don’t want to lose you, not now, not after this when we go back to North Ridge. I want to get to know you, the real you, I want a real relationship and all the time in the world to make up for all the time that we lost.”

  “And so you’ll stay?” she looks at me hopefully.

  I grasp her hand. “If that’s what you want, if that’s what you need, I will stay. For you.”

  She frowns, looking saddened, and shakes her head. “My baby girl. You’ll stay for your mother, your mother who turned her back on you and didn’t protect you when you needed her most, you’ll stay for her but not the man who has always been there. How come you’ll stay for me but you won’t stay for Shane?”

  I blink at her, my blood whooshing in my head as I try and grapple with it.

  She’s asked a damn good question.

  “Because you’re my mother,” I say softly, struggling for words.

  “And he’s your man. A man that loves you. A man who never stopped loving you.”

  “It’s not the same.”

  “When it comes to the heart, when it comes down to love, it all weighs the same amount. Rachel, Shane is in love with you and I know you’re in love with him. Don’t throw that away because you think you belong somewhere else.”

  “But I have a life there,” I tell her and even now my excuses, valid or not, are starting to sound stale. “I have everything I’ve worked hard for.”

  “And you’ll work hard again and you’ll get those things you want, if you even want them anymore, if they really matter. But love like yours, that’s not something you can just show up for, or even earn. Love like that, you have to hold onto it when you see it. It’s a once in a lifetime love, my baby girl. And we both know how short those lifetimes can sometimes be.”

  I grow quiet. I could argue forever. I could bring up the millions of excuses. But against my mother, I’m not sure how far I’d get.

  “Let me ask you something,” she says, taking my hand into hers. “What feeds your soul?”

  “What feeds my soul?”

  “You heard me. What feeds it? What gets you up in the mornings? What makes you want to be a better version of yourself, to keep on growing? What makes you feel alive? More than that, what makes you want to be alive forever, finding the lust and the joy for it day by day?” She pauses. “Now change that around. Not what, but who? Who feeds your soul?”

  I try and swallow. I’m thirsty and exhausted and scared, still so scared. I want to give her different answers and yet I won’t lie. I won’t bother. There’s only one answer.

  Who feeds my soul?

  Shane.

  Shane feeds my soul.

  She squeezes my hand. “You know. I can see that you know. You don’t have to make a decision about it now, but eventually you will. And when you do, just remember what I asked. Just remember what you feel. Your soul is part of your heart and your heart is a part of the world. Who feeds your soul, feeds all of you and in turn you feed them back. And this funny little world rolls on and on and on.”

  I manage to give her a smile. “You know, I wasn’t expecting all the self-examination.”

  “You thought I would be the one to re-examine my life choices?” She rolls her eyes. “Please, I’m getting surgery, I’m not on my damn death bed.”

  Then her features harden and she stares at me, serious. “But there is one thing I’d like to talk to you about before they wheel me away and start with the pain meds.”

  “What?”

  She takes in a deep breath. “I know one of the reasons that you’re struggling, why you’ve always struggled, is because you don’t have closure. And I’m not talking about your boy Shane. I’m talking…I’m talking about your father. He went to jail but he didn’t go to jail for what he should have. Granted, I’m sure he didn’t go for a lot of things he should have but the fact is…he tried to destroy us. And for a while he did. And I know that time has passed but I don’t want him to get away with it anymore.”

  My heart starts to beat faster against my ribs. “I don’t want to see him.”

  “You don’t have to see him. He’ll rot in prison for what he did to that boy but he should also be in there for what he did to you. And me. Now, I can’t and won’t make you do anything that you don’t want to do but, and it depends on how long you plan on staying, I want to press charges. When we get home, I’m going to file a police report against him. I won’t mention your name unless you want me to, I won’t do that without your permission baby girl, but I’m going to give a statement about what he did to me and I’m going to make sure it gets to him.”

  Funny. Even just hearing her say that, as horrifying to even think about the past, the situations, what he did, the fact that she can still do something, that justice can still be served after all these years, that he won’t get away with it…the heaviest weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I’m immediately lighter. Scared, but lighter all the same.

  “I’ll do it,” I tell her, frightened and determined and bolstered all at once. “I’ll come forward and I’ll file. He’s gotten away with it for this long and I’m no longer ashamed of it. I want him to know he’s caught, that he didn’t destroy us like the way he tried. I want to do this. I’ll do it with you. Together.”

  “Are you sure?” she asks, studying me.

  “I’m sure.” I nod, again and again, each time with more conviction. “I’m more than sure. This needs to happen, for both of us. This is closure.”

  “You’re damn right,” she whispers, kissing the back of my hand just as the door opens, Doctor Fielding peering at us.

  “Are you ready, Vernalee?” he asks

  She looks at me and smiles knowingly. “More than ever.”

  She hands me the wishbone and I hold onto it as hard as I can without crushing it.

  He wheels her away to surgery.

  And I wait.

  19

  Shane

  “Can’t sleep?” I ask as I approach the porch.

  It’s past midnight and there’s a big ol’ full moon casting a silver sheen over the ranch. My father is sitting on the porch swing, a glass of whisky in his hands, staring out at the stars. For the first time in a long time, there’s a hint of coolness in the air, a promise that fall is around the corner. That, or more storms.

  It always gets worse before it gets better.

  He looks to me, shadowed in the magic light. “Nope. How about you?”

  I shake my head, lean against the post. “I’ve texted Rachel but you know how our service is here. I’m not sure if they’re getting through. I know that if anything bad happened, she’d call.”

  Because that’s what we’re both thinking, my dad more so th
an me. He’s worried sick about Vernalee, I can tell. He hasn’t said as much, but lately as I’ve become more aware of my love for Rachel, I’ve started seeing his feelings for her mother.

  As for me, I’m worried about Vernalee but I’m missing Rachel fiercely. It burns inside my chest, not a longing anymore, but this desperate need to see her, to have her in my arms again. When she gets back I have to do what I can to convince her not to go and I’m not sure it will be enough.

  “Why don’t you tell her how you feel?” I ask boldly.

  My words hang in the air for a moment and I’m not sure if my father will just brush it away like he usually does.

  Then he says. “Maybe I will.” His voice is softer than I’ve ever heard it. He clears his throat and sighs, looking back at the moon. They seem to have a staring contest with each other. “I should have told her before she left. I had the chance. I didn’t have the courage. I’m not brave like you.”

  That catches me completely off-guard. “Brave?” I’ve never heard my father call me that before.

  “Yeah, son. You’re brave. You know it too. We all know it. You can look any problem dead in the eye and do what needs to be done. And do so without ego. Without armor. I’ve seen you with Rachel, the way you’re nothing but open with her and that takes guts, son. Love takes guts. And you’ve got that in spades.”

  I sigh and sit down on the porch steps, resting my head in my hands. “What good is love and guts if your love runs away in the end.”

  “I don’t need to answer that,” he says. “You know it’s worth it. Worth it to have loved and lost than—”

  “To have never loved before,” I fill in.

  “No, you dolt,” he says gruffly. “Than to have loved and kept that shit to yourself until you died from it.”

  I smile in the darkness. “I’m not sure that’s the saying, dad.”

  “It’s a saying.” He takes a sip of his drink. “Anyway. You know what I mean. No one said loving someone is easy and Rachel has a boatload of issues that are only going to make things more difficult for you. That’s why when she pushes you away, you can’t walk away. You can’t give up. You have to keep at her. In reality, what you should have done is followed her to Toronto the moment she left and told her the truth. But you didn’t. I don’t know, maybe that was for the best. Maybe she needed to be on her own, far away from everyone else, a place she could reinvent herself and discover that she was more than what her father did to her.”

  “When did you find out?”

  “Vernalee told me. She told me everything one night. Cried her eyes out until she fell asleep on my shoulder. I’m not saying that Rachel doesn’t have the right to be angry and hurt by her momma, but Vernalee was a victim too. Both of them are, still. And it takes a special person to work with that. Luckily, I know you’re that kind of person.”

  “So are you,” I point out. “Apparently.”

  He smiles over his glass. “I’m trying. I got to say, and I know it’s hard to hear but maybe you understand better than Fox and Mav because you never got to know her as well but…Vernalee is the first woman since your mother that I’ve felt any part of me come alive. Shit. It’s been twenty-six years and now, only now, am I finally ready, finally moving on.”

  “It’s worth it, though.”

  “I think it is. It’s never too late to learn to use your heart, son. That’s what I keep telling myself.”

  “What on earth are you two knuckleheads yammering about, eh?”

  We both look behind us to see my grandfather standing in the doorway, his white hair all wild from sleep, pulling his robe closed just in time. Thank god.

  “Just watching the stars, grandpa.”

  “Well can you both watch the stars with your mouths shut? Walls are thin, you know.”

  And with that he turns around and walks back into the house.

  Dad and I exchange a grin. I laugh.

  We both start looking for shooting stars.

  The next morning Rachel finally calls.

  The surgery was successful and Vernalee is doing fine.

  I decide to be brave. I tell her I miss her.

  She tells me the same thing right back and it sounds as real as that sun in the sky but I can’t be sure, not yet. Words mean some, actions mean more.

  A week later, after Vernalee’s stint in the hospital, the two of them arrive home.

  Home.

  Because how can my heart not be her home?

  “They’re here,” Delilah says, staring out the front windows.

  Everyone is over, including Fox who is back in town for a few days before he’s sent out

  again.

  Hank heads out and I follow as Rachel brings the Ford Tempo to a stop in front of the house.

  She gets out and grins at me so big, it steals my heart and breath, then she quickly goes to the other door to help her mother out.

  We join in. Hank reaches in and helps her to her feet and she leans on both Rachel and my father for support.

  She looks weak, frail, but she’s smiling.

  “I know I didn’t have cancer long enough to know, but damn this sucks,” she says. “Barely survived that car ride with all that terrible music Rachel listens to.”

  Rachel manages a smile. “The driver gets to choose. Next time, when you’re driving, you can listen to Céline Dion and Michael Bublé all you want.”

  Vernalee wrinkles her nose in disgust and I laugh. She’s an old country lover, through and through.

  We help her into the house, set her down in grandpa’s chair and everyone starts running all over the place, fetching her stuff. Del brings her lemonade, Maverick offers up magazines like Redbook and Good Housekeeping, and I can only imagine how embarrassed he would have been buying them at the grocery store, especially when he’s always hitting on the checkout girls. Fox brings her a blanket, making sure she’s comfortable. It’s a sweltering, stuffy day, the kind that hinges on a thunderstorm, but even so, Vernalee seems cold.

  When everyone is settled and Vernalee starts singing the praises of the nurses at the hospital to Grandpa, I take Rachel by the arm and pull her out onto the porch.

  I’m pretty sure everyone here knows we’re back together but even so, I like to keep it quiet and just between us. We just aren’t a sure thing.

  Yet.

  Maybe never.

  Maybe…

  “Hey,” I say to her, wanting so badly to hold her in my arms, to feel every soft inch of her. I’ve been craving her so badly, an addict in front of his fix. “How are you holding up?”

  “Good,” she says and smiles. She looks good, more at peace now than when she left.

  “How was she? Any complications?”

  “Well, she might be saying wonderful things about those nurses and doctors now but I tell you a few days ago she was pretty close to issuing them death threats.”

  I laugh and then wipe the smile from my face. “That bad, eh?”

  “You better believe it. A bit of cabin fever. She was drugged for the first few days too. Every time she saw the breathing tube she started freaking out. Thankfully it wasn’t in there for long.”

  “And how are you both? I mean, are you okay now, did you talk?”

  She nods. “Yeah,” she says quietly. “We had a good talk.” She pauses, licks her lips. “Before I leave…” And my heart fucking sinks at those words. “My mother and I are going to file a police report.”

  I frown. “What happened?”

  “Against my father. You know, that closure I needed? It wasn’t just from you. It was because he got away with it. And now, finally, we’re not going to let him.”

  “Rachel,” I say with a sigh, relief coursing through me. “That’s amazing. Seriously. This is going to be so good for you.”

  “We won’t mention what happened with you, what you did.”

  “Even if you did, I’ll handle it. The point is, you need this. More than anything.”

  “I do. I really do. And then, then
I can move on. My mother can move on.”

  I grab her hand and hold it tight. “Want to hear something funny? Maybe it’s no longer a family secret but…it turns out my father is in love with your mother.”

  She lets out a sweet laugh, her eyes dancing. “I know. And I know she feels the same way. They just need to fess up to it. They don’t have all the time in the world.”

  “No one does.”

  “Yeah.” She looks away, smiling shyly.

  “Let’s hope they don’t get married though. Or we’d be brother and sister.”

  “Shut up,” she says, pulling away playfully. “Hey, is your house empty?”

  “That’s a strange transition,” I say, letting her lead me off the steps and into the grassy path toward my house. “But yes it is.”

  We head inside and I open the windows, trying to move the hot stuffy air. It’s another scorcher, stifling and thick.

  She stands in the doorway to my bedroom and wags her finger at me.

  “Come here,” she says, backing up until she’s at my bed.

  I raise my brows. I don’t know what I was expecting but I don’t think it was this.

  “Your wish is my command,” I tell her, discarding my hat on the dresser and following her in.

  She grabs me by the back of my neck and pulls me down to her mouth.

  My legs feel weak. I kick off my shoes, my mouth still pressed to hers, kissing her hungrily.

  “I’ve missed you so much,” I whisper to her. “This last week has been unbearable without you.” My hands slide down her sides, feeling the fabric of her sundress, wanting it off so I can see and touch and lick her warm, bare skin.

  I want more. I want her every day, all the time, until she leaves.

  God, please don’t leave.

  “I’ve missed you too,” she says and her throaty tone makes my cock stiffen, hot and thick and pushing against my jeans. She stands on her toes and kisses my jaw, then my cheek, then my mouth. Her lips open against mine, and I slide my tongue in, tasting her.