by Doyle, S
He was bracing himself against the desk. Hadn’t even bothered to tuck his dick back in his pants. I reached for him and took a firm hold. I knew he was sensitive, but this time he didn’t swat my hand away.
“Just don’t stroke it,” he said.
“Hmm,” I agreed, tilting my head toward him so he would kiss me. It was sweet and intimate and when he straightened, I was about to hop off the desk. Then I stopped. Looking at the floor, I could see shards of glass.
A book had toppled over. And what looked to be a picture frame was upside down.
“Caleb, I think we got a little carried away,” I said, smiling. “We actually broke things.”
His eyes followed to where I was pointing then I heard a noise, part gasp, part scream. Bending, he carefully picked up the now shattered glass frame. I looked over his shoulder and it was my turn to gasp.
I didn’t need to ask who the two in the photo with him were.
His wife, Sarah.
His daughter, Emily.
And Caleb. Caleb happy in a way I’d never seen him. In a way I’d never made him
“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, I didn’t—”
“Swing your legs around to the other side of the desk,” he said laying the picture down flat on the shelf. “Get down over there and I’ll hand you your clothes.”
I did, standing on the other side of his desk. Naked and freezing suddenly, where I’d been so blissfully hot only seconds ago.
Dutifully, he handed me my panties and bra. Then my jeans and sweater. Finally, my socks and boots. The whole time neither of us said anything.
“Caleb…” I had no words. No condolences to express. It was just a frame. It could be replaced, and the picture would live on inside of that frame. Intellectually, I knew that. But this felt like something bigger.
Like I’d broken something inside of him.
“You need to go now, Vivienne,” he said softly. Gently. My evil villain suddenly gone. “You can make it back if it starts snowing?”
I nodded.
“The cabin—”
“I’m staying with Zeke and Eve. Zeke was worried about the cold.”
He swallowed and nodded. “I should’ve thought of that.”
“Caleb,” I said reaching for him because it felt like he was falling down some deep chasm, each second getting farther and farther away from me.
He sat heavily in his chair then turned his back toward me. “Please, Vivienne. Please just go.”
Swallowing a sob, there was nothing else I could do.
17
Hope’s Point Airport—aka the runway
The next day
Cal
In the end, there was only one thing left I could do. I couldn’t ask her to leave. She was building a life here. She had a job, friends, eventually she’d need something bigger for her and Sam than the cabin, but I had no doubt the community would figure out what she might need and make that happen for her.
There were plenty of men. A lot of good men, single men. If Ty wasn’t a fit, there would be others. Men who would die for a chance at her sweetness. Her shyness. Her incredible bravery.
Her love.
That’s why I had to be the one to leave. I left a note for Angel. Told him he was in charge until I settled things with Dyson. Told Frank at corporate I needed extended time off. It wasn’t the most unusual request for someone who’d been stationed somewhere in Alaska for the past seven years. For most, if you weren’t from Alaska, eventually the Lower 48 would call you home.
I didn’t pull the trigger on quitting. I wasn’t worried about money or anything else. I had more money than I would ever know what to do with, but I would need to work again. Somewhere. After all, work was all I had. All I would let myself have.
Dyson had operations around the world. Maybe there was one where they might transfer me to. The reality was I could probably write my ticket to any job that appealed to me. But that decision was for later.
Now was about getting away.
Running away. A habit I’d formed early with Vivienne.
Fucking twenty-six-year-old almost virgin with a kid in tow and she’d brought me, me, crumbling to my knees. Pathetic.
I watched Doogie land the plane, and when he slowed to a stop, I went out to greet him.
The door opened, and he didn’t bother with the step ladder. “S’up, Cal?”
“Know you just got back, but I need to get to Nome. You got enough fuel to make a round trip?”
“Yep,” he said with a slow nod. “Hop in.”
I threw the duffel I’d packed into the back seat of the plane. I’d managed to avoid everyone, leaving as early as I did. As part of the note I’d left Angel I told him to come pick up the truck from the runway when he got a chance.
The snow had already fallen, the winds had subsided. It was fucking balls-of-ice cold, but that wouldn’t stop Doogie from flying. I pulled the door to the Cessna closed, latched the lock and settled in for the flight.
“Where’re you going, Cal?” Doogie asked.
“Told you, Nome.”
“Nah, I mean, where’re you going?”
“Away,” I said.
It’s what I’d said when Sarah’s parents had asked me the same thing seven years ago. I told them I was leaving, knowing I might never see them again. They hadn’t objected or fought me. They understood. We shared our loss together.
Doogie didn’t say anything after that.
And I closed my eyes and tried not to think about what a fucking coward I was. I didn’t succeed.
* * *
Bud’s
That night
Vivienne
“What do you mean he’s gone?” I asked, my stomach dropping to the floor.
I was working since Eve and Zeke had Sam. Even though it was beyond cold, enough of the guys had ventured out to make the tips worth my efforts. I’d already been told if you let the cold stop you in Alaska, then you’ll be stopped most of the time.
Shelby had grabbed my hand and brought me to a table where Jackson and Eli were sitting with horribly stoic expressions on their faces.
That’s when Eli had delivered the news.
Cal’s gone.
“He left a note,” Eli continued. “Said he couldn’t stay. Not much more than that other than some instructions for me.” Eli’s hands were open like he couldn’t believe it.
“Did he leave me a note?” Because I deserved a note, damn it!
Eli shook his head.
He met me, and he ran. He kissed me, and he ran. He had sex with me, and he ran. Always running. Always away from me.
“Guess he ran out of places to hide from me,” I muttered.
Shelby grabbed my hand again. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. He’s just messed up in the head. You know why. But he’ll be back, you’ll see.”
I pulled my hand from her grasp and stood. I smoothed out my ponytail over my shoulder and lifted my chin. Mom had left. Dave had run. Pop had kicked me out. Now Caleb was running, too.
I’d never know what I did to the people in my life that made them so damn afraid of me they couldn’t bear to have me in their world.
Anger, unlike any I’d ever felt, nearly overwhelmed me.
This was new. I didn’t get angry. When Dave said he couldn’t handle being a father, I was ashamed and scared. When Pop said we couldn’t live with him anymore, I was ashamed and scared.
My problem. My fault. I blamed myself for their issues.
I wasn’t blaming myself for Caleb. Not this time. He was the coward. Not me.
“Fuck him,” I spat, clearly shocking everyone at the table. The word coming easily off my tongue this time. Maybe I was starting to become more Alaskan after all. “If he doesn’t want what I can give him, there is nothing I can do about that. I’ve got me and Sam, and we’re doing all right up here. That will have to be enough. Now, I’ve got to make some money.”
Which, of course, would be harder without Caleb and his twenties.
>
I clenched my teeth down hard, smiled all night and did what I had to do for me and Sam.
Because that’s all that I could do.
And if somewhere deep inside I didn’t think it could be real, that Caleb couldn’t be gone for good, I didn’t share that with soul.
* * *
Plainview, Texas
One week later
Cal
I didn’t have a fucking clue why I was here. I’d come to the Lower 48 with no real agenda other than to get away. I’d stopped in Oregon and saw my folks who seemed happy enough, although curious, to see me so unexpectedly.
My folks were never big on surprises.
Then I made my way to California to see Sarah’s parents. Something that had been uncomfortable for everyone. All we ever did was remind each other what we’d lost. Still, it wasn’t a connection I was willing to totally sever.
The fact that they made me stay with them for the night proved they weren’t exactly willing to let me go, either.
They’d asked me what was wrong, what was upsetting me. I thought it was funny my own folks hadn’t.
I told them I was missing family and, in so many ways, that hadn’t been a lie. I was missing family. Mine, but also Vivienne’s.
The next day I knew it was time to move on, and apparently, that meant here.
Plainview, Texas.
I pulled my rental car over to the side of the road and turned off the engine. The car was a Ford Taurus and I hated it. I felt trapped inside of it, like it was some kind of tin can on wheels. The door was too light. The top of the car was too close to my head. The steering wheel, no matter how far I moved the seat back, was too close to my chest.
All of it felt claustrophobic.
I popped open the door and crawled out, standing and breathing actual air.
Tepid, dry air. Nothing that hurt your lungs; certainly nothing that required any heavier clothes than the black Henley I was wearing with jeans. This was summer in Hope’s Point.
Around me, the people I saw walking along the streets all had some manner of coat on, like it was chilly.
I tried to imagine it over a hundred degrees in the summer.
“…the heat in Plainview in the summer is unlike any heat you’ve ever felt, I’m sure.”
I could hear her voice in my head and even that hurt. I tried to shake it free, but I hadn’t been able to. Not since I left. I thought coming here might help me put some of the pieces together.
See for myself where she came from, what made her leave. More importantly, what made her so insistent she wasn’t ever coming back. The town wasn’t much. A couple blocks, at best.
I’d parked across the street from the only diner I’d spotted. Not even sure if that’s where she’d worked, but it called to me anyway.
Crossing the street wasn’t an issue as there was no traffic in the middle of the day. I opened the door to the diner and heard a familiar ring sound above my head. I watched as most of the folks in the place turned to see who’d come in.
In seconds they assessed me.
A stranger.
Their expressions not too unfamiliar from how the folks at Bud’s reacted anytime there was someone new in town. I put my head down and made my way to the counter and took a stool that was bolted to the floor.
A waitress, maybe mid-forties, a bit tired, immediately showed up with a coffeepot in hand. She poured me a cup without a word and left without taking an order. I sipped the coffee and wondered, not for the first time, what the fuck was I doing here.
A couple minutes later she was back with a small notepad.
Vivienne didn’t carry one at Bud’s. She’d gotten to be a pro at memorizing the orders from the guys.
“Hi,” she said curtly with a deep Texas twang. “What can I get you?”
It was strange but there was a time when someone would ask me those generic questions and I would think, I want my wife and child back. As if the person asking wasn’t some waitress trying to do her job but instead a magic fairy ready to grant me my deepest wish.
This time I didn’t think about Sarah and Emily. This time I thought about Hope’s Point and what I’d left behind.
“Tuna melt,” I muttered saying the first thing that came to mind.
“Something else to drink?”
I shook my head then stopped. “Hey,” I asked, before she turned away. “I’m looking for someone named Vivienne Chester.”
“Viv?” the woman asked surprise etched into her face. “Yeah, she worked here, ’bout a year ago, but she’s long gone. Got herself knocked up and had to take off.”
“You don’t know where she went.”
The woman shook her head then shrugged as if it was not her problem. “Nope.”
I nodded and the woman walked away. I had to tamp down the sudden burst of anger I felt. How was it that someone could have known Vivienne and cared so little about what happened to her and Sam?
The bell above the door rang again but I didn’t bother to turn around. I did, however, notice the arrival of someone new at the counter. He was tall, over six-foot, heavy boots, red ball cap that advertised Tucker Trucking Co.
“Hey, Betty,” he called out to the waitress behind the counter.
“In a second, Dave.”
Dave.
No, it wasn’t possible. Although Vivienne had said his route took him by this town. I looked at him again, closer this time. Sandy hair, hazel eyes, mid-thirties. It could have been a total coincidence. A guy with a trucking hat, named Dave, having lunch in the diner where Vivienne used to work. I turned, looking out the windows to see if I could spot a rig, but I realized he would have parked behind the building. Somewhere with more room.
He caught me staring and dipped his chin as if to acknowledge me. I could see nothing of Sam in this man’s face, but would I? Babies were babies as far as I was concerned, and they looked like themselves. No matter how many times Sarah used to say Emily resembled me, all I ever saw was Emily.
“Can I help you?” he asked, now seemingly agitated that I wasn’t looking away.
“You come here a lot?” I wanted to know.
“Now and again. I’ve got a route takes me through this town often enough. Why you askin’?”
Safe to come back now that she was gone, the fucker.
“You know a young woman who used to work here? Named Vivienne. Red hair, hazel eyes.”
Instantly, his expression changed, shut down even more. He looked away from me and shook his head. “Nope. Doesn’t sound familiar.”
Betty came to the counter with my order and slid it in front of me.
“Usual, Dave?” she asked him.
He nodded without saying anything but still kept his head turned away from me.
“He made me hide what we were doing…”
A thought occurred to me.
“You married, Dave?”
His head snapped in my direction. “What of it?”
She’d been a repressed virgin and you were the first man who ever paid attention to her. She thought you were going to save her. And the whole time you were just some guy cheating on his wife.
“Just asking,” I said even as I reached for the ketchup, dumping a ton of it over the fries that came with the sandwich. “Kids?”
“Two girls,” he grunted.
And one boy. One sweet, goofy boy with light hair and hazel eyes. Who, if Vivienne has it her way, will grow up in Alaska surrounded by a community of people who would love him and watch over him and raise him right.
I picked at my fries, took a bite of the sandwich I was no longer hungry for then threw a twenty on the counter.
In my head, I had a vision of just planting my hand on the back of Dave’s head and slamming it hard enough into the counter to break his nose. Some kind of justice for Vivienne and Sam she would never know about.
In the end, though, he wasn’t worth the effort.
I left the diner, walked across the street and got into the fucking T
aurus, wondering what the hell I was doing here.
Then I looked up the directions for the local church run by a Pastor Chester and made my way there next.
* * *
Cal
It was about ten miles outside of the town. Along a dusty dirt road surrounded by a whole lot of nothing. Shit, this place looked barren. Brown, flat, endless. About as far from vibrant, vivid Alaska as I could imagine.
It felt like nothing could live here on top of the soil.
Probably why everyone spent so much time digging for oil underneath it.
I pulled the car into a parking spot and got out of the tin can. Happy again to stretch my legs.
The doors to the church opened and an older man stood at the top of three narrow steps framed by a handrail.
He was older than I’d imagined. Sixties, judging from his thinning hair and stooped shoulders. At least from this distance.
I held a hand up that I hoped he interpreted as a greeting because I wouldn’t have been surprised if there was a shotgun just inside that church door.
“Can I help you?” he called, his voice hoarse.
“Looking for Pastor Chester,” I said.
“Found him,” he returned with a nod. I made my way toward him, cautiously as if to show him I was no threat.
I stopped a few feet away, but he stayed right where he was at the top of the steps leading into the church. I thought of a million things I wanted to say, but I thought of the only thing that mattered.
“Vivienne’s safe. So is Sam. They’ve got a place to live and she’s working.”
The only sign he acknowledged what I said was to grab the wooden handrail.
“Who are you?” he finally asked.
Who was I? Not her boyfriend, not her lover anymore. “A friend. I was in the area and I thought you should know.”
“Why?”
“Because I was a father once. And if my little girl was out there in the world without me, I would want to know she’s safe.”
I could see his face tighten up. Like he wanted to say something nasty, something horrible about Vivienne.