Deepest Blues

by Heidi Hutchinson

  She and the good doctor also discussed her attending some local AA meetings. So that if and when Mike came back, she'd have a better understanding of what he was dealing with. It was a scary idea. But one Clarke was more than willing to face head-on.

  Another great thing that had come out of last week's drama was that Clarke had friends that were chicks now. She'd had Greta for a while, but Tatewin was abnormally busy, so that relationship had been set adrift. Enter Lenny and Lucy.

  While the guys were busy scrambling to grab a hold of things as they went topsy-turvy, the women had collectively rolled their eyes and inserted themselves into Clarke's life with casual ease.

  In fact, that's where they all were right now. Waiting for her at her home.

  Greta had been with her a lot since the night Mike had left. She didn't push Clarke to talk about it. And she also didn't look at her with worry. She just stayed nearby, being the shoulder of support that Clarke needed. Because, for the first time in her life, Clarke was recognizing how important those kinds of relationships were.

  It was okay to need help. She sensed a lightening of her friends' spirits as a whole when she started to allow them to care for her. And she realized that needing help didn't make you weak, but accepting it definitely made you stronger.

  Greta had moved Girls' Night Out to Girls' Night Wherever. Clarke had been promised Greta's on-the-grill hamburgers, homemade french fries and Lucy's Southern sweet tea. Lenny said she'd make a salad. That meant that a tomato would run across an open bag of lettuce.

  “Honey! I'm home!” Clarke called the familiar greeting with bittersweet fondness as she opened her front door. Greta was married now and wouldn't be living here anymore. It didn't suck as much as Clarke had feared. One perk was that her boss was in a way better mood more often. Then again, living with Greta would make anyone's life better.

  “Hey, babe-alicious, we're almost ready to eat, get out here!” Greta called from the open patio door.

  Clarke deposited her purse and keys on the table, ran her hand over Walter's back, and joined the girls outside.

  “How was it?” Lenny asked, handing her a glass of tea. Lenny, professional snowboarder, Shane's first big break-up, and Luke Casey's wife. She had blonde hair and sapphire blue eyes that made her look more like a movie star than a professional athlete. Chill, confident, assessing. She missed nothing, took no guff, and was cool as heck.

  “Good.” Clarke nodded, taking a sip. She crossed to an empty chair and dropped into it gratefully. “What's Shane doing tonight for food while you're here cooking for me?” she asked the woman with the spatula.

  Greta lifted an eyebrow and Clarke wished she could take a picture. Greta had her hair pulled into a high ponytail, and she was wearing jeans and a Celtics jersey with Kevin Garnett's name and number on it. Around that was wrapped an apron that said “Why You All Up In My Grill?”

  “First of all, I'm grilling, not cooking. Second, he's out with a rock band. I have no idea what they're doing, but they're probably up to no good.”

  Lenny shrugged. “If you go with the odds, anyway.”

  “Is it weird that the girls are having burgers for supper and staying in and the guys are... out?” Lucy asked, her face scrunched in such a way that Clarke actually snickered. Lucy was the wife of Blake Diedrich, the band's guitarist (one of them), and she was Shane's second big break-up. Dark hair, dark eyes, talented musician and song bird from Oklahoma. She was hilarious, honest to a fault, and spunky sweet. Clarke adored her.

  As far as women went, the men in the band had exceptional taste, and Clarke harbored a secret hope that she would someday join their ranks.

  “Don't you think that the surfer bums will get jealous?” Clarke asked, referring to Steve, Adam, Bo, Brady, and Kip, who had also been hovering as of late.

  Greta shrugged and turned back to the grill.

  “Nah,” Lenny answered. “Luke and Shane never get to see each other, they've probably included as many people as they can. It's not like our husbands are super shy or anything.” Lenny smirked at Lucy who grinned in return.

  “Well, I know Lia is out of town for a while, so the beach house is available. Hopefully they won't burn the place down,” Clarke said, more to herself than to the others.

  Conversation swung into the relaxed area between weather and work. They ate their burgers and finished off the tea. It was dark and getting darker, nearly time to call it a night, when they finally brought up Mike.

  Everyone had been dancing around the issue, mentioning things about him and what he was doing and then waiting for Clarke to have some sort of input. She didn't. She wasn't sure if they thought she was talking to him and maybe she knew more than they did. Or maybe they wanted to get a reaction out of her to report back.

  “I know Luke worries, though I've told him not to,” Lenny said quietly.

  “Blake is just happy that Ilsa is locked away in that facility in Utah, or was it Malibu? I can't remember,” Lucy noted.

  “She's actually very nice,” Clarke found herself saying. The girls stared at her. She shrugged one shoulder slowly. “I met her once, I really liked her.”

  “That makes sense to me, actually,” Greta put in. “Mike never was one to hang out with chicks who were catty or shallow.”

  Lenny and Lucy concurred with that assessment. Then Greta and Lucy gave similar looks to Lenny, who finally sighed, set her empty glass on the table and leaned forward, elbows on knees.

  “How are you holding up?” she asked Clarke.

  “Fine,” Clarke answered, perplexed. She was fine. She was more than fine. She was doing very well, actually. Much better than she had been weeks ago, when nothing at all made sense.

  “With Mike being gone and stuff, you okay?” she asked in a way that made Clarke want to laugh. But she didn't.

  “Mike and I aren't together,” Clarke responded, smiling diplomatically. Because it was the truth. They weren't together—officially. Even though Clarke knew they shared a connection unlike anything she'd ever experienced. So in that regard, she supposed they were together. They were both heading toward the same goal, with the same idea in mind. She knew that like she knew Walter would never forgive her if she forgot to give him his wet food every morning.

  Greta and Lucy snorted in unison and Clarke looked in their direction. They both looked down into their laps and then around the backyard, avoiding eye contact.

  Chickens.

  Lenny sighed patiently. “Listen, there's some things you need to know about being in a relationship with a rock star.”

  Clarke's eyebrows lifted into her hairline, but otherwise she didn't respond.

  “They're very passionate, hardheaded, talented people. And when they fall in love, it's a big frickin' deal.” Lenny cocked her head to the side. “We were all there at the hospital, we saw what happened—”

  “Not me,” Greta raised her hand. “Apparently I wasn't considered 'family' enough to warrant a phone call.”

  Lenny shook her head and turned her eyes to the sky. “She's so dramatic.”

  Clarke bit back the laugh that wanted to escape at that moment. Greta was dramatic. It was nice to see someone else take notice.

  “My point,” Lenny threw a small glare at Greta, who seemed unconcerned, before returning her attention to Clarke, “is that we all saw the connection you two have.” She let her words sink in for a second. “Mike's gonna come back.”

  “I know,” Clarke replied, when she realized that's what they were waiting for.

  “No, I mean, he's gonna come back for you.”

  Ohh, that's what she meant.

  Clarke smiled quietly.

  She knew that, too.

  Chapter 19

  Crazy Love

  Mike saw her arrive long before she figured out where he was. He finished his laps, deciding she could wait if it was so important to her. She seemed to agree, seeing as she had made herself right at home on one of the lounge chairs on the lower lanai.

&nb
sp; He pulled himself out of the water and walked the thirty feet to the back of the house.

  He snagged the towel he'd left for himself on the railing and dried himself off. Her green eyes held no remorse as she looked up and down his bare torso and soaked swim trunks.

  “Something I can do for you?” he asked, when it became obvious she wasn't going to speak first. He tossed the towel over one shoulder and putt his hands on his hips. It never ceased to amaze him, the audacity of some women.

  She looked around the empty patio area and towards the door of the cottage. “Where are your traveling companions?”

  Mike had seen her a few times over the past week. The first time in the market as he picked up a few groceries. The second was when he went into town to purchase a surfboard. Then again yesterday, she was at the coffee counter where he'd met a friend he'd made in the church meetings.

  Each time she was dressed in class and money. Expensive clothes, hair and shoes. She held herself with a practiced ease, clearly used to getting what she wanted. She was older than he was, by probably a good decade even though she'd had enough injections to erase most of it. Each time she had seen him, she'd tried getting his attention, but he shrugged her off.

  Meeting loose women was not why he was here.

  She knew he had no companions, she just wanted him to say it out loud. So he didn't answer. It wouldn't have mattered to her anyway.

  “I've asked around about you.” She crossed one long, bare leg slowly, waiting for his eyes to drop there.

  They didn't.

  “I'll be straight with you.” Mike leaned against the post casually and crossed his arms over his chest. “You're not the first woman to come sniffing around here in the past month. The answer I give you is the same as the others. Thanks, but no thanks.” He dipped his head to the side of the house that would indicate he wanted her to exit.

  Her eyes widened, then narrowed dangerously. “You're asking me to leave. Without even knowing why I'm here.”

  Mike sighed with strained patience and grimaced. “Please?”

  She shoved to her feet indignantly. She may have sputtered some very unladylike words before she stomped around the corner and he heard her car start and speed away. He was really getting tired of the women showing up. It took away from the reason he was out here in the first place.

  He turned to face the ocean view again and his eyes lost focus over the blue-green waters. He missed her.

  He had been here five weeks. The women had started to show up sometime during week two. All it really did was make him miss Clarke more. He'd never been one to enjoy being pursued. He liked the chase as a rule. Having a woman throw herself at him was an instant turn-off.

  Mike hadn't called or had any contact with Clarke the entire time. Maybe it was weird to think but he knew, he just knew, she wasn't freaking out about it. What they had went deeper.

  A month ago he couldn't be certain.

  He was now.

  He'd gotten back to a calm center. And at the center was Clarke's love. They'd never spoken the words, but it was more than implied. So much more.

  Now, he saw her in everything he did, everywhere he went. Especially with his close proximity to the ocean.

  They shared a rhythm, a heartbeat.

  Luke still called every day, though less freaked out than he had been initially. He gave small updates, so Mike knew Clarke was seeing a counselor. She was doing fine. The band and their women had pulled her into the fold. She was in the family. Right where she belonged.

  Mike watched the waves for several long moments, counting the heartbeats in between.

  It was time to go home.

  ***

  Clarke sat straddled on her board, her heart beating so hard it made her want to giggle nervously. Instead she smiled across the water as the swell began to approach.

  Swinging her board around, she lay flat and began paddling with her hands. As the swell grew, she grabbed the edges and tucked her feet underneath her, popping up in expert fashion.

  The smile rode her face even longer than she rode the wave.

  ***

  Brady watched his friend soar.

  He had suspected something was up when he'd stopped by her office earlier that day. They'd discussed business, Walter, and the weather. He was there to make sure she knew to come out to Lia's that night for a big shindig.

  But Clarke's face was anxious without looking nervous. She kept looking at the clock on the wall, a secret smile playing on her lips when she thought no one was watching.

  Brady had an instinct. About an hour after her shift, he drove over to her spot. The little slip she used to favor. The one her brother had shown her and that she used to frequent with devoted fanaticism.

  The one she had been avoiding for three years.

  The late afternoon sun glinted off of the gold of her skin, her wet hair slicked back, a smile so brilliant that it rivaled the burning ball in the sky.

  Brady felt the tightness in his chest ease. He watched her for a few more minutes, admiring her strength, skill, and the freedom with which she rode.

  Then he put the Subaru in reverse, backing out of his parking spot.

  Leaving his friend alone.

  And free.

  Finally.

  ***

  Clarke slipped a coral colored open-weave sweater on over her white tank. It hung loosely to just past her hips. She shoved her hands in the pockets of her white jean capris and set off around the side of the beach house where Lia's bonfire was in full swing. The soothing sounds of Michael Bublé were playing from the mega stereo on the back porch.

  As far as days went, this one had been very good. She had no idea it was about to get so much better.

  She couldn't help the swell of emotion that filled her chest when her friends came into view. Bo, Brady, Adam, Kip and Steve were already engaged in some sort of sprint down the beach. Shane had both of his arms locked around Greta from behind, her head tipped back as she smiled at whatever he was saying into her ear. Lia was near the fire, a peaceful expression on her face as she sat quietly with that handsome man who had been coming around to see her for the past few months.

  Then there was the band. Luke, Sway, Harrison and Blake were standing in a semicircle by Shane and Greta. Discussing whatever it was that rock stars discussed. Lenny was running out of the ocean with Lucy on her back—both laughing. Greta spotted them and broke from Shane's grasp to join whatever game had been started.

  Clarke's eyes burned. But not with sorrow.

  She had lost her mom when she was so young she hardly had any memories of her at all. Then her only family had been taken from her within days of each other. Looking around, the people who had become her new family—friends that had come into her life because of Paul—she realized that she had never been the orphan she thought she was.

  Family really was what you made it.

  A strong arm slid along her shoulder and she was tucked into Brady's side. Automatically she wrapped both of her arms around his middle, resting against him.

  “I saw you today,” he said, his deep voice vibrating in his chest.

  Clarke felt a happy tear escape out of the corner of her eye. Not big enough to run down her face, just enough to make her vision blur.

  “Proud of you, sweetie,” he said roughly, then he pressed his lips to the top of her head.

  He began to pull away and she let him go, though she had been enjoying the close warmth he provided.

  That's when she saw him.

  Mike was just on the other side of the fire, making his way towards her slowly.

  Her feet began their own journey without checking with her head, drawing her straight to him.

  With less than a foot between them, they stopped.

  His hair was getting longer, but not enough to be shaggy. His shoulders were clearly more developed under his thin red tee shirt, his skin a golden brown from being in the sun. Those pale blue eyes were assessing her the same way she was him. />
  The conflicted indecision that she had last seen in his eyes was gone. The tense worry lines around his mouth faded to a memory. The dark circles that had been so persistent their last few weeks together were gone completely.

  He looked healthy.

  His hand came out, fingers barely touching the back of her hand, the hint of a smile twitching at his lips.

  “You're back,” she said softly.

  “Yeah.” He gave her that half-smile she was so fond of. The one that was almost shy but still completely cocky. The one that had been absent from her life for far too long. “My heart missed you.”

  Clarke tried to swallow and found it difficult. “That must have been a lot... because you have twice the heart of any man I've ever known.”

  “Good thing it found one strong enough to take care of it,” he answered without pause.

  It was too dramatic, she knew that, but it didn't stop her. She threw her arms around his neck and buried her face there. Thankfully, he caught her. Wrapping her in his strong arms, their bodies pressed close, and Clarke felt that earlier swell of emotion grow to twice its size.

  Her friends were her family. But Mike was her home.

  Michael Bublé started in with “Crazy Love” and Clarke's grip on her emotions almost slipped.

  The music played on and Mike didn't loosen his hold. Nor did anyone approach them.

  “As far as Hollywood endings go, this one is pretty perfect,” he murmured in her ear.

  Clarke pulled back just far enough to see his face. She knew she was grinning by the way he smiled when he looked at her mouth.

  “I love you, you know,” she said, suddenly serious.

  “I know.”

  Then he kissed her. Long, slow, and thorough.

  No urgency, no panic, no second guessing. He kissed her like they had all the time in the world.

  Because they did.

  Epilogue

  Future Days

  Mike smiled at his phone before turning it off again and placing it back on the bedside table. He rolled to his side and pulled Clarke closer.