by Emily Duvall
Ellen turns fully and faces me. “The question I’ve been asking myself the last three weeks is why you’re here.”
I clear my throat with a mischievous grin. “I knew you couldn’t resist.”
“Don’t push me, Caleb.” Her eyes are fierce, but her mouth, I notice, hints at a smile.
“The first meeting, I’ll admit, I had no idea. Curiosity, maybe. But I have an answer the further away from that court case I get. I want to support Maren,” I say simply, with my ego in check.
“You can do that by staying away.”
“You don’t really believe that. Do you?”
She purses her lips. Gives her shoulder a little wiggle. “I wish you would go home and stay out of our lives.”
“Not going to happen. I’m going to come to every one of these meetings until I know how to be when I’m with Maren. You can leave if my presence bothers you. How long are you in town for?”
“None of your business.” She spins away from me and stuffs a cookie in her mouth.
“Ahem,” Doctor Randi says, approaching us. “Is everything okay?”
Ellen jabs a finger at me. “He’s bothering me,” she says with a mouth full of cookie, “and my daughter.”
Doctor Randi looks to me. “Caleb?”
“My entire presence bothers Mrs. Cole. I have dated her daughter. Now she thinks I’ve ruined her life.”
“You have,” Ellen insists.
Doctor Randi doesn’t look impressed by either of us. “Caleb, I’d like you to start things off tonight and tell us your story, if you feel comfortable.”
“What?” Ellen’s incredulous.
One point for me. I grin at Doctor Randi. “I feel very comfortable doing that.”
“We’ll get started in a few minutes,” she says to the group. “Get your snacks and your drinks.”
I’ve been a public speaker since the first moment I stepped into a courtroom. It comes naturally to me. I’m in my element. I know how to deliver the lines, and yet, this is the first time I’m at a loss for words.
Men and women are staring at me and my mouth goes dry. What am I supposed to say? How do I explain my relationship with Maren? These people have deep-rooted relationships. Marriages or children they’ve been with for years. I suddenly feel like a fake. How long have I been in Maren’s life, a summer? Ellen’s right. I don’t belong here.
“Caleb is going to speak first tonight,” Doctor Randi says. “Please, begin.”
“Forget it,” I say, getting up to leave.
Ellen’s hand comes down on my knee. “Don’t you dare leave. Tell them.” She looks at me with what I think is contempt and I see her eyes are splashed with tears. “Tell me.”
Doctor Randi nods encouragingly. “Say as much or as little as you’d like.”
“My name is Caleb Allan.” My voice sounds different, grave, and I struggle to find the right tone.
“Speak up,” someone says.
“My name is Caleb. I’m a lawyer.”
“You’re that guy,” a lady says.
“Maren and I met through her older sister, a woman I used to work with. We had been at a company cocktail hour at an art gallery and her sister had asked me to make sure Maren got there safely, which seemed odd to me because I knew instantly Maren could have gotten to the museum without anyone’s help. Shortly after we arrived, she had a meltdown. A major overreaction to a situation and I was embarrassed.”
A few people nod.
“As I got to know her, I saw glimpses of her. Moments when I forgot how much she was struggling to communicate and get her thoughts out. The truth,” I say, looking at Ellen, “is I knew nothing. I judged her family for rules they put in place for her life. I thought I could swoop in and change her. I see Maren for who she is. She’s got these quirks, like how she thinks frozen waffles are the only way to do breakfast. She’s sloppy and giggly when she drinks, and I’m afraid sometimes of the honesty she uses when she speaks. I think to myself who doesn’t have issues? Who doesn’t have something they struggle with?”
“Mmm-hmm,” comes a sound.
“Maren and I dated, and she wasn’t like any of the other women I had been with.”
Ellen scowls at me.
Doctor Randi nods. “Go on.”
“Our relationship came out in both an unconventional and very public way. Maren was hurt and so was I.” My head shifts, and I look at Ellen. “You want to know why I show up. Why bother, right? I ask myself the same question. Maybe because I want a do-over with your daughter. Maybe I messed things up, but she’s an incredible woman, and we work well together. I don’t know if that’s enough. I don’t even know if she wants me. All I have to offer is an apology.”
“Sometimes that’s all we have,” Doctor Randi states emphatically, and continues speaking.
The conversation turns to other people. Most of their stories I don’t hear. I need space from this topic and from the last few weeks. I am the first person to leave the meeting and I get out of there before Ellen has a chance to talk.
The sports bar I escape to is packed. It’s loud with talking and music blasting from speakers. The O’s game is on ten different televisions and I snag the last available barstool. I’m not even two sips in to my beer and someone bumps my lower back. I have every intention of ignoring this person, but she speaks.
“I’ve been wondering where you have been hiding,” Sara says.
Reluctantly, I angle my head to her. “Sara,” I say without feeling and cringe at the sight of the other woman at the end of the bar.
“I see you’ve spotted Dana,” she explains. “We’re here with other people from the firm.” She sucks on her straw and eyes me. “I’ve been meaning to call you.”
I laugh bitterly. “Why would you do that?”
“You may not believe me, but I am sorry about what happened. I didn’t know whether to come by or to call you, so I left you alone.”
The smirk on her pencil-thin lips confirms that she couldn’t care less. I take a long sip of my beer and give in to my curiosity. “I’m sure you’ve been busy with all your new cases.”
The smugness in her smile fades. “You didn’t hear?”
“Hear what?”
“Today is my last day at Hockley and Lyon. Dana has made my life miserable, which is ironic, considering she set up this happy hour. I got a job in New York with a small firm.”
“You’re finally getting what you want. Congrats.”
Her eyes are clear. I see her answer. “Not everything I want,” she says, pushing her hair off her forehead.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t be what you wanted.”
“It’s fine. I’ll be okay.”
I cock my head in the direction of Dana. “If you can’t stand her, why did you let her throw this party for you?”
She flashes a knowing look at Rosenthal. “Don’t make this hard. I want to leave on good terms with you.”
“You’re the one who slipped information to Dana. How do you think I should respond? Don’t be a snitch and a liar.”
Sara looks genuinely hurt. “I didn’t tell. It wasn’t me.”
“’Course you did.” I’m not wrong. Am I?
“I wanted your job. We made a deal. Why would I ruin my shot?”
“If you didn’t, then who did?”
“Jane.”
Young, eager, working-hard Jane. “No, she didn’t.”
“She’d seen you and Maren out jogging together and that night when you left us to walk her home. She and Dana have known each other for years. They’re childhood friends. Their families are close. I overheard Rosenthal thanking Jane after she’d taken the job at Hockley.”
“Their friends?” I shout, scaring the customers next to me. My teeth clamp down hard and I clutch my drink in a way that is ready to throw it at a target. Reducing my voice, I seethe. I pound the glass on the bar and beer sloshes over the top and down my fingers. “I was impressed with Jane’s work. Now I see what she’s done.” A flippan
t glance at Dana and I understand how everything had been set up to fail.
“You were too busy thinking all I did was fantasize about you. You should have been paying better attention.”
There’s the understatement of the year. “Yeah, I see that.” I’m not over this new detail, but Jane and I will never work together again, and I will remember this if her name ever crosses my desk. “Thank you, Sara.”
“I mean, you’re hot, Allan, but you’re not the only guy in the universe.” Sara gives my arm a playful punch. “Are we cool?”
My ego downshifts. “We’re cool.”
“How’s the job search?”
“I’m enjoying unemployment too much to look.”
“I need to get back to the group.” Her hand rests on my elbow. “I wish you the best of luck and I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
“Thank you,” I remark sincerely.
Dana glares at me from across the bar. That’s fine. She can shove her career up her ass. I signal the bartender and pay for my drink. I can’t stay with them lurking around. Tonight’s been odd. The best course of action is to go home and shut my door. A bit of blocking out the world will do me some good.
The night leads me, no, pushes me to go home. It’s the one place I’ve been distancing myself from tonight and where I end up a short time later. I have myself another drink and lay on the couch. The volume on the television is low to the point of a murmur and I have no idea what I’m watching. A cooking show for people who can’t cook. I give a restless sigh. What is it about tonight? Is it the end of summer? One season giving way to another?
Is it time for me to move on with my life? Do I want that? The big city life with the big city job and a fresh start and all that. My job was my life. This house was meant for a family that doesn’t exist. I run my hands over my face. What’s left for me here?
As if the answer wasn’t obvious. My heart shoots to my head.
She is.
I close my eyes and pass out. I can forget about her. Someday. Maybe.
The doorbell is ringing and ringing. “What the…?” I wake up and find myself still parked on the couch. Guess I didn’t make it to the bed. My arms and neck are stiff. “Hold on,” I shout and check the time. It’s early. “Christ.”
The door flings open with my powerful pull. “What do you want?” I say and don’t make a move to let her inside.
Libby holds two cups of coffee in her hand and a tentative smile on her lips. “Good morning,” she says cheerfully. “Want to talk?”
“Not again. Aren’t you supposed to be in New York?”
“My mom called me last night,” she pauses, hesitating. “She said you’ve been going to the meetings.”
I grab one of the coffees. “Who cares?”
“I do. And so do you.” Her voice is pleading and her expression, dire. “Please, Caleb. There’s a lot to say. Give me five minutes.”
“I think everything’s been said. I’m trying to move on with my life, not get stuck further into your family’s drama.”
“You don’t mean that. If you did, you wouldn’t be going to group.” She closes the door and follows me back to the couch. “Mind if I sit down?”
“Knock yourself out.”
Her gaze travels around the room and the sprawling mess that’s taken over. “I’m impressed that you’ve been attending. The gesture means a lot to my family.”
“I’m not going for them.” Torn between wanting to kick her out and needing to hear what she’ll say, I take a seat next to her.
“Then why are you going?”
She asks the question at the exact moment I anticipate it and the problem is, I don’t have an answer. I mold my hands around the coffee cup. “Maren showed me I need more to my life.”
“Maren and I got to talking. She told me about Andy and the night you got her home safely.”
A frustrated sigh leaves me mouth at the memory. “I wasn’t going to let her leave with them.”
“You care about her.”
“I happened to be in the right place at the right time. What if I wasn’t there?”
“You were.”
“What if I’m not there every time some loser wants to use her?”
“Before you met her, I had the same thoughts. Being away from Maren has made me realize that I’ve been a part of the problem. Maren’s capable of figuring out situations on her own. She’s an adult and I’ve been treating her like a child. I thought I was protecting her. I think I’ve just been preventing her from growing up. We all did. You were right. My sister needs to know failure. She’s experienced some of that with her new life and she’s doing fine. She’s still standing. Each visit home we’re doing things together and we’re laughing and talking.”
I take a risk with a lopsided grin. “Are you jealous because I brought this out in her?”
A tear runs down her face and over her smile, but she laughs. “Yeah, a little bit.”
My shoulder nudges hers. “It’s not all me and I’ve never been so hated in my life.”
“Sucks, doesn’t it?” She picks up the coffee cup and rolls it between her hands. “Maren told me about Darcy.” Libby lifts her hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. Or anyone.” Breathing feels lighter, letting people mention her name. I don’t want to get in to that now though and I switch topics. “I ran into Sara last night.”
Libby’s instantly cold. “Was she gloating?”
“Quite the opposite. Sara didn’t betray me. She wasn’t the one who told about my relationship with Maren. One of my interns did.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
“Nothing.”
“That’s probably for the best. I discovered something this morning, not that it makes a difference now, in terms of a win for you.”
My gaze drops to her handbag. “Makeup and tissues won’t help me.”
“I was looking for Maren’s phone. I needed to get a number and I found this.” She pulls out a sleek plastic card.
I snatch it out of her hands. “You can’t be serious.” A long breath leaves my lips. “Beth Corrigan’s fake ID.”
“The very one.”
“This was in Maren’s purse? How did she get it?”
“She doesn’t know. The only thing I can think of is this. The area at Pierce’s bar has purse hooks under the counter. Beth and her friends literally stood next to Maren. Maybe Beth reached over and put her ID in the wrong purse.”
I hand back the license. “At least we know Maren did tell the truth. I don’t think the jury would have changed their opinions after hearing what Pierce did to Beth in the parking lot, but I maintain those girls were not innocent either.”
“I agree.” She tucks the license into her back pocket.
“How is Maren doing?” I take a leap and ask.
“You know Maren made up rules for our parents when they come to visit. They can’t tell her to clean, and she doesn’t want meals left for her. One morning a week she rotates scrambled eggs into her breakfast, but there must be cheese, and she removed Countess Coins from her iPad. She’s moved onto a crossword puzzle games.”
Man, I love this girl. Impulsively, I say, “I want to see her.”
Libby’s smile doubles. “Don’t let me stand in the way.”
Chapter 31
Maren
My apartment is quiet with Libby back in New York and I take time to pull down the giant board with reminders, dates and sticky notes. I prefer keeping my schedule in my planner. One that the world doesn’t need to see when they come over. Someone will come over, I tell myself. Whether this person is Charlotte or my parents, or a date (not Joe, he never messaged me after standing me up). These thoughts stay with me as I leave home and get right into a jog.
My feet pound the pavement and my head is full of ideas about how to change my living space. I stick to the path I always run on and I know people will be out right before sunset. The air is
cooler than I expect, and I head off towards the park.
The grass and playground come into view, an expanse of deep green with the tree branches hanging heavy over the pathway. A golden light covers everything it touches. People are out and about. Some eating. Others are walking dogs. I make my way to my favorite bench.
There’s someone sitting on it. A man.
Damn. I don’t want to share my bench. I’ll have to sit on the other end.
This guy stands up. Good, he’s leaving.
He’s walking towards me.
He’s right in my way.
I stop. I say his name like a reflex. “Caleb.”
“Maren Cole.”
My gaze sweeps over his body, dressed in running attire. “Going for a jog?”
“Not really.” His arms drop to his sides and rest on his hips. “I’ve been deliberating whether I should run or go home.”
A nervous laugh escapes my mouth. “What’s the problem?”
“Actually, that’s a lie. The only reason I’m here is to see you.”
Caleb wants to see me. “How did you know I would be here?”
That incredible sunset light touches his eyes, turning them clear. “I took a chance.”
“The last time I saw you, I ran.”
“So, what? I’m not going anywhere. Neither are you.”
A smile spreads slowly across my lips. “Could we jog and talk? We haven’t done that in so long, and you’re already dressed.”
His hand extends forward to the path in front of us. “You lead the way.”
We take the route we did from our first jog, except halfway through we cut to a new section following along a shallow creek overgrown with plant life. Our run is close to an hour by the time we loop back around to the bench.
Sweat seeps through Caleb’s shirt. He takes it off and I stare at his beautifully bronzed bare chest. Muscles ride up and down his midsection. Light brown hair trails from his chest to the rim of his shorts. He’s trim and broad, and ripped. “I always thought it was unfair that you can take your shirt off.”
“You suddenly have a staring problem, Ms. Cole?”
“Yes,” I say over my parched lips.
He slaps his shirt at my thigh and takes a seat. Casually, he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Can we talk?”