Spun Out

by Lorelei James

  Had she thought about trying it again?

  Was she on antianxiety meds?

  Had counseling helped? Back then? What about now?

  Jesus. His brain felt like it’d explode. He needed a damn drink.

  Inside the trailer he found Meghan gathering her things to leave and Olivia holding Wally.

  “Daddy. Guess what? Meghan’s friend who is a drummer is playin’ with her band in the park! Can we go? Please?”

  “Uh. Meghan, what’s she talkin’ about?”

  Meghan petted Wally’s head. “My friend scored tonight’s ‘music in the park series’ band gig in Casper so it’ll be wicked cool. You two should totally come. There’s a hot dog feed beforehand, so one admission gets you into both events.”

  “People just show up?”

  “Yep. Bring your own chairs, blankets and cooler.” She looked at Olivia. “Sorry no pets allowed, miss.”

  “No pets or just no cats?” Olivia asked suspiciously.

  “No dogs, cats or pet pigs,” she said, chucking Olivia under the chin.

  Olivia’s eyes lit up. “You can actually have a pet pig like Wilbur and Babe?”

  Streeter sort of wished Meghan had skipped out before she mentioned that, because now Olivia would beg for a pet pig. She’d seen Babe and Charlotte’s Web far too many times to let it go. Then again, she had stopped asking if she could dye her hair pink.

  “You’ll like the music,” Meghan assured him. “It’s not rap.”

  An open-air concert away from here might be exactly the distraction he needed tonight. “All right, Meghan, you convinced me. We’ll see you there.”

  After Meghan left, Olivia said, “Yay! I’m gonna go down and tell Bailey to get ready.”

  His hurt squeezed him. He wished he had a disconnect so he could never give Bailey a second thought.

  No, you don’t. You don’t fall out of love with someone in one hour.

  “Hold up, Olivia. I saw Bailey earlier and she’s busy tonight, so it’ll just be us.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  “Let’s get snacks packed and hit the happy trail, partner.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Bailey hadn’t driven far. Just back up to the main parking lot at the lodge. She wedged her SUV between two RVs, hiding her vehicle so Streeter would think she’d left.

  Despite the hollowness that had taken over her thoughts, she couldn’t just leave her sister like that. She wasn’t surprised to see Harper had turned the sign to Closed, nor was she surprised that she hadn’t locked the door.

  Harper had moved to the window in the back room that overlooked the sloping hills of the grounds.

  “I’m sorry I took off after him like that.”

  Harper spun around and raced toward Bailey, pulling her into a tight hug. “You had to go. But I’m so glad you came back. I’ve been sitting here thinking, and that’s never good.” She squeezed Bailey tighter. “I love you. Period. No ‘ifs,’ ‘ands’ or ‘buts’ about it. And it scares me to the bone that I might not have ever had the chance to tell you that, Bails.”

  “I know.”

  “I hate that you were too embarrassed to tell me about what you’d gone through alone—” Her voice caught.

  “I know that too, sis,” she whispered back.

  “So no more of this secretive shit, okay? No more learning important things about you from someone else. No more keeping things from me because you’re afraid I can’t handle them. I’m stronger than you give me credit for.”

  Bailey let her tears fall. “That’s exactly the wrong thinking, Harper. You are the strongest woman I know, and I never wanted you to see me as a gutless coward who thought about checking out of life rather than dealing with the blows I’d been dealt.”

  “But you didn’t check out,” she said fiercely. “You’re here and I’m here and we’re calling Liberty because you’re not keeping this from her either. That way you’ll only have to tell it once and we’ll put it behind us.”

  She’d have to tell it again if Streeter demanded answers, but somehow she knew they were done.

  She hadn’t ever felt this level of despair and she had no idea how she’d get through it.

  Harper started to let her go, but Bailey held on. “Please don’t let me go. Not yet.”

  “Of course, sweetheart. For as long as you need.” Harper rubbed her back and soothed Bailey as she sobbed, from fear and relief because she knew she wouldn’t have to deal with any of this alone ever again.

  When Harper’s blouse was soaked clear through on the left side and Bailey had no more tears left, Harper released her. She pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead. “Better?”

  “Some.”

  “Good. So I’m hoping that me bringing up Streeter ain’t gonna turn those waterworks back on.”

  “Maybe a little, but I’ll try to rein it in.”

  Harper took her hand and led her to the two conference chairs that faced each other. “What happened?”

  “First lemme ask you . . . you know how Streeter’s wife died?”

  She nodded. “It’s too horrific a story to gossip about. I figured if he wanted you to know, he’d tell you. Here he’s built a solid community of people that have let him move on from it.” She paused. “When did he tell you?”

  “The first night after we slept together. The whole time he was telling me, I knew that him finding out I’d considered doing what his wife had done would be the ultimate betrayal and bring back all those bad memories for him.”

  “But you continued to sleep with him.”

  “Yes. The sex is outstanding, and I couldn’t just do the one-and-done thing because of . . . let’s just say his sexual past is complicated and leave it at that. So I swore I’d let my body get involved with him but not my head. Not my heart.”

  “And how’s that going for you?” Harper asked.

  “Not worth a damn. I love him. I even have maternal feelings for his daughter. Which given the way things started out is a small miracle.”

  “How does Olivia feel about you?”

  “You mean will she be devastated when I’m not around anymore? No.” Not that she could explain the reasons for that either. That was when it occurred to Bailey just how many secrets she’d been keeping—not just her own. No wonder she was mentally exhausted. “The world fell away when it was just us. He’d seen himself as daddy for so long that he’d neglected the sexual side of himself. I helped him reclaim that. And I have zero regrets about it.” She swallowed hard, tamping down the sadness that she’d never bask in his passion again. “He’ll find someone else eventually. Maybe he’ll even be thankful for our short time together. But there’s no doubt he saved himself a lot of grief by letting me go.”

  “Bailey. You’re acting like this is a done deal. Like there’s no room for understanding or for forgiveness from him.”

  “From his perspective? There isn’t. It’s over.”

  Harper opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again and said, “You’re so wrong, honey, but if you wanna live in denial for a while, if it makes it easier for you, then fine. I’m here for you.” She pulled out her phone. “And we’re calling Liberty so she can be here for you too.”

  “Do we have to?” God. She sounded like a whiny kid.

  “Yes. But I have something that’ll make this difficult conversation more palatable.”

  “What?”

  “A bottle of rum.”

  * * *

  Two hours later, Bailey didn’t feel cleansed, but she did feel lighter. She’d had no idea how heavy that burden had become until she’d shared it with her sisters.

  After she and Harper had countered their tipsiness with a pot of strong coffee, they tackled cataloging the remaining merchandise. Throughout the past week of closing the store, they’d talked of options regarding the futur
e of WWC. Even maintaining an updated website with strictly online sales was more effort than Harper wanted to expend at this point.

  Bailey understood her sister needed a full break, but keeping a visual record with photos of the existing inventory meant if Harper decided to have a pop-up store a few times a year, half the work would already be done.

  She walked down the hill just past dusk, opting to leave her car where it was. It’d be easier all around if Streeter believed she’d moved out.

  As she considered the complications for the parents if she canceled the last boot camp on Friday, she decided she’d suck up her reluctance to meet Streeter face-to-face and end the camp as she’d originally intended.

  No one sat around the fire pit tonight, not a surprise given that the heat of the day still lingered. She noticed Zack slumped in a chair. Slumped and looking surly. Slumped, looking surly and smoking a joint.

  Shit.

  Split Rock didn’t do drug testing. But such a blatant act would likely get him fired.

  “Hey, Zack. Uh, you’re not as alone as you might think, so I’m suggesting you ditch the joint before someone else sees you out here getting high.”

  “Maybe I kinda wished that would happen.” He sighed and stubbed out the blunt, and it disappeared from view. “Sorry. Feelin’ sorry for myself.”

  “Sounds familiar.”

  “Be glad you don’t have a roommate.” He’d said roommate with total sarcasm.

  “I get it. Streeter and I had a huge fight today too.”

  He snorted. “I’m supposed to say it’s not the same thing—”

  “But it is. From my point of view, it seems trite to call ours a lovers’ quarrel when it ended our relationship.”

  Zack’s eyes went wide.

  “Are you more surprised that Streeter and I are done? Or that I know you and Ted are more than merely roommates?”

  “Both, actually.” He studied his hands. “How did you know?”

  “I overheard you guys when you had the windows open.”

  He looked stricken. “Then does Streeter know?”

  “If he does, he didn’t hear it from me.”

  “Thank god. That would kill Ted if his beloved boss knew he swung that way. And that circles back to the fight we had.” He closed his eyes. “I’m tired of hidin’ and pretending we’re best friends. Roommates. Coworkers. Buddies from the same town. When we’ve been together since we were fifteen. I thought we’d leave the secrecy behind once we left behind our asshole families who wouldn’t understand, but he still drags that fear with us everywhere we’ve been. It’s exhausting.”

  “I know what you mean about keeping a secret that in the end . . . no one really gives a damn about because they’re so busy keeping their own secrets.”

  Zack looked at her. “What secret are you keepin’, Sergeant?”

  She folded her arms over her chest. “I have lupus. It’s the main factor in me leaving the military.”

  “My friend’s mom has that. It sucks. It’s painful and unpredictable, if I remember right.”

  “That it is.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Have you ever tried cannabis? I remember that helped her.”

  She shook her head. “Couldn’t chance I’d fail a drug test in the army. But now that I’m out, there are a few things I’d like to try if I move someplace where it’s legal.”

  A strange silence stretched between them. Was she supposed to say sorry that his partner was still half in the closet? Before she could say anything, Zack spoke.

  “Thanks for bein’ cool about this, Bailey.”

  “Thanks for not scooting your chair away from me like I have a disease.” She paused. “Oh, right, I do have a disease. It’s just not contagious.”

  He laughed. “That’s where we’re alike. Bein’ gay ain’t contagious either.”

  “I hope you and Ted kiss and make up.”

  “We will. That don’t mean anything will change.” He paused. “Hope you and Streeter get things figured out.”

  She couldn’t even manage a small smile for him when she felt so hollow inside. “Night, Zack.”

  Inside her trailer, Bailey poured herself a bowl of cereal for supper. Then she took a long, hot shower, which had no effect on drowning out the voices in her head. She feared sleep wouldn’t come, given the day she’d had, given the live wire her emotions had become, but she crashed almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

  * * *

  Olivia didn’t show up asking for her drums back the next morning.

  Or the morning after that.

  Bailey half expected that Olivia wouldn’t show up for the final day of boot camp, but she was there in her bossy, pigtailed glory.

  She followed the camp rules to the letter. As a matter of fact, all the kids did.

  They’d all come so far—such a huge improvement from the first time she’d stumbled into mass chaos at the start of the summer. She wasn’t big on speeches, but at the end of the day, these kids deserved something.

  She’d ordered pins shaped like combat boots and engraved with the year, a little token for them to remember their accomplishment. Hopefully it’d also remind them to be respectful and disciplined outside of camp.

  Olivia was the last to leave, as usual. Since Bran was hanging around with the boys, waiting for Harper, Bailey slipped out the back door. The only thing that kept her tears at bay was the they’re better off without me mantra she repeated one hundred thirty-seven times as she booked it to her trailer.

  She had so few belongings it didn’t take long to box them up and set them by the door. She spent her last night at the Split Rock much like the first night she’d arrived: alone, wondering what was next.

  After loading her SUV early the next morning, she returned Olivia’s drums along with the good-bye gift she’d purchased for her.

  She’d given Streeter nothing.

  Except her heart.

  Scratch that, she’d given him heartache. But he was a strong man.

  He’ll get through it.

  Bailey repeated that mantra over two thousand times on the drive to Harper and Bran’s place. She’d screamed it. Sobbed it.

  In the aftermath she had no choice but to believe it.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Saturday morning Streeter stumbled over the buckets that comprised Olivia’s drums, which had been set directly in front of his door.

  The feeling of being utterly lost that he’d suffered through the past five days since he’d last spoken to Bailey intensified by about a million.

  She really was gone.

  She’d really left, and left it like this between them.

  Unresolved.

  Goddamn her.

  But what had he expected? He hadn’t made an effort to talk to her. He could tell himself over and over that he avoided her day after day because he was too hurt, too heartbroken, too blindsided by such a huge omission to speak rationally or without making things worse.

  But the real truth was somehow harder. Scarier.

  Streeter wanted to understand.

  He wanted to forgive her.

  She’d healed him and he wanted a chance to help her heal.

  What the fuck was wrong with him? How had he let it go on for five fucking days? He should’ve . . .

  Infuriated with himself, he turned around to punch the trailer or some goddamned thing, when Olivia appeared.

  “Daddy?”

  He dropped his hand to the side. “Hey, punkin.”

  She spied the drums. But instead of her joyfully saying Yay! and asking if she could play them, she peered around him, looking toward Bailey’s trailer. “Why’d she just give ’em back?”

  He tried to smooth her extreme bedhead. “Probably because she’s moved away.�
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  Olivia’s reaction . . . not what he’d expected to say the least.

  She shoved away from him and ran down the plank walkway until she reached Bailey’s trailer. She started beating on the door with both fists. “Sergeant B! Come out right here now!”

  No response.

  More pounding. “You wouldn’t just leave! You said we were friends, and friends don’t do that! I mean it! Come out here right now or I’ll scream!”

  The last thing he needed was an epic Olivia meltdown.

  Just then Wally darted out between Streeter’s legs and hightailed it down the walkway.

  Shit. Wally was a damn house cat. If he took off Olivia would be inconsolable.

  Streeter’s heart raced a million miles an hour as he slowly stalked the kitten. Wally stopped to sniff and then peered over the edge of the walkway, crouching low, preparing to pounce on something in the grass. In a panic, Streeter said, “Wally, no,” which caught Olivia’s attention.

  She stopped beating on the door, lowered her hands and snapped her fingers. “Wally. Come.”

  Wally backed up and then happily bounded toward Olivia in that funny way that kittens had. When he reached her, he twined through Olivia’s bare calves, meowing.

  She reached down and scooped him up. “Good boy.”

  Not only was Streeter dumbfounded that the cat listened to Olivia, she’d stopped the impending meltdown herself, out of concern for her kitty.

  Bringing home that cat was the best thing that had ever happened to her.

  Wrong. Bailey is the best thing that ever happened to her. And to you.

  Olivia cradled Wally in her arms as she walked back.

  “Daddy, you gotta remember to close the door. Wally can’t be outside if he’s not on his leash.”

  “Sorry. I forgot. But how did he come right to you when you called him?”

  “I’ve been training him. He’s a really smart kitty. Smarter than a dog.” Then Olivia noticed the four big boxes stacked behind the buckets. “What’s that?”

  “No idea. Let’s take ’em inside and find out.”