by Julia London
He didn’t feel right in anything. It was like his life was an ill-fitting suit and he couldn’t seem to adjust it to make it comfortable.
They’d agreed going in that Jason would be the manager of the gym, as he had the connections and was from Chicago. But Jason couldn’t seem to navigate around any of the problems they kept butting up against, and it seemed to Rafe as if the management end had fallen to Jason’s father. That was fine for now, but there would come a day when that would need to end, and he worried about how that would go.
The living accommodations were wearing on Rafe, too. He hadn’t been able to find a job in social work that would meet the requirements he needed to obtain licensure. Either the jobs that fit didn’t pay enough, or they didn’t have the credentials for overseeing his work. He’d been surfing Chaco’s couch for weeks, and it was getting old. Rafe had sacrificed his comfort during his time in the army, and now, about to turn thirty-three, he wanted his own bed in his own room.
All of these thoughts weighed on him, but the unspoken thing that kept him up at night was Hallie.
Sometimes, when Chaco was sawing some logs in the bedroom, Rafe scrolled through Hallie’s Instagram account. She posted a lot of pictures of Sulley, who had already doubled in size. There were a few pictures of Aspen that would crop up every now and then. There were a few family photos—Luca and Ella, Miss Dolly doing tai chi with her friends. And there was one of an empty warehouse with the caption What’s a girl to do?
Sell it, he guessed.
But most of the pictures she’d posted lately had been ones she’d taken as she wandered around Austin. In all of them, she was alone, smiling at her phone with some landmark in the background. It was probably his own misery speaking, but her smile was not as bright as it burned in his mind’s eye.
He and Hallie had exchanged a few texts over the last few weeks. Not many—he didn’t know how he could go back to being chummy, not after he’d left Texas as a fraction of the man he’d been. And the texts were superficial, a lot of how are yous. They hid behind words that were easy to send—but without emojis and definitely no GIFs.
How he regretted going to Aspen. He’d existed all these years with his private fantasy—why couldn’t he have let it lie?
Toward the end of January, his dad called and said his mother hadn’t been feeling well.
“Is it back?” Rafe asked quietly, meaning the cancer. Meaning a third round for his mother.
“Maybe. Can’t get her to the doctor,” his dad said. “She’s being stubborn, and I can’t keep up with everything.”
That was his father’s way of telling him he wanted him home. He didn’t know how to tell Rafe in any other way. “I’ll take her,” he said. “Rico and I will be home in a couple of weeks for his court appearance, and I’ll get her to the doctor, Dad.”
He could now add that worry to his nightly agony.
Just before they were to leave for that trip home, the gym hit another snag—an inspector informed them they didn’t meet the ADA requirements for entry and exit.
“You gotta have a wheelchair ramp,” the guy said.
“No one told us that,” Jason said angrily, and looked around for the contractor. To Rafe, it was just another in a long line of mishaps and roadblocks, of giant flags waving at him, telling him to go home.
The next day, as Rafe watched Rico pack for home, Rafe surprised himself when he said, “I think I’ve had it with this deal.”
“What deal?” Rico asked, his attention on his bag.
“The gym. The whole thing.”
Rico looked at him with surprise. “Are you kidding me right now?”
Rafe shook his head.
Rico gaped at him. “Don’t give up now. We’re almost there. We’re so close.”
“I don’t know, Rico—I’ve put a lot of money into this, and it looks like it’s going to take a lot more.”
“See? That’s what I’m saying—you’ve worked a long time toward this.”
He sighed. He felt weary to his marrow. “Sometimes, you just have to know when to fold a bad hand.”
“Well, this isn’t that,” Rico said. “You just need a break. Look, we’re going home for a few days. When we come back, you’ll feel differently.”
“Maybe so,” Rafe said. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that this project, initially conceived by three soldiers in Afghanistan, was beginning to feel too heavy. Like a years-long slog toward nothing. All the money he’d worked so hard to save was sinking into a black hole of constant needs, and they still had nothing to show for it, other than an unfinished building. But its biggest failing was that it hadn’t achieved his secret goal of taking his mind away from Hallie.
* * *
• • •
They arrived in San Antonio to miserably cold rain that fit Rafe’s mood. Rafe took the late afternoon to pay a visit to John Horowitz. John was home now, and had a physical therapist coming around to see him twice a week. But John lived with his mother in a tiny little house. It had been equipped for John’s new reality, but it was an old house, and the rooms were small, the hallways narrow. It was hard for him to get around. There certainly wasn’t enough space to do adequate martial arts therapy. Rafe thought that if he were around, he could make a few changes to that house to help John out. Take out a wall. Widen the door to the bathroom.
John was unflaggingly enthusiastic, convinced that he would be able to live without help one day very soon.
Rafe wanted more than anything to help John achieve that goal.
On his way home, he noticed trucks outside Hallie’s warehouses. What’s a girl to do? As he drove by, he noticed her car parked next to the trucks. It was the middle of the week. He thought she lived in Austin now.
He’d meant to text her and let her know he’d be in Three Rivers for a few days, but he hadn’t. It had seemed pointless, really. But seeing her car spurred an overwhelming desire to see her in the flesh. He drove down the road another tenth of a mile or so, then turned around and went back, pulling in and parking next to her car.
He sat and stared at the warehouse. His gut was churning. He didn’t know what to expect. Would she be happy to see him? Would it matter, because his chest felt like it was about to explode? “Yeah, well, you’re here. No turning back now.” He got out and went in.
The moment he stepped inside, he was instantly rushed by Sulley, who announced Rafe’s arrival with a lot of barking, and then a launch at Rafe’s legs, his tail wagging. Rafe went down on one knee to greet his travel buddy properly. “Hey, Sulley, how are you?” he asked, scratching the dog behind the ears. “I’m happy to see you, too, buddy.”
Sulley pushed off from Rafe and raced away, probably looking for someone to praise his greeting skills. Rafe stood up and glanced down, and only then noticed that, apparently, Sulley was muddy. And now he was, too.
“Rafe!”
He glanced up from trying to get some of the mud off him. Hallie was standing in the middle of the warehouse, her hands shoved into the pockets of her sheepskin coat. She was wearing earmuffs, beat-up jeans, and work boots. She looked surprised, but her happy smile glowed, and his heart was melting. His poor, beat-up heart.
“Hey,” he said sheepishly. He felt uncharacteristically awkward, and dragged his fingers through his hair.
“I didn’t know you were in town!” she said, coming forward. “You should have told me!”
“Just got in. Did you take up carpentry while I was gone?”
“Sort of.” Her smile deepened. “You have mud all over you.”
“Sulley greeted me.”
“He likes the mud puddles. Come in. I’ll show you where you can clean up.”
He followed her deeper into the warehouse, where workers were putting down some flooring.
Hallie led him into the offices and all the way to the back to a bathroom that was
being enlarged. A wall to the open bay had been removed, and the opening was covered with heavy plastic. “What’s going on?” Rafe asked.
“I am building a ballet studio. Surprise!” She pulled a piece of paper towel off the roll and stuck it under a sink faucet.
“Really? You’re going to dance again?”
“Well, sort of. Genevieve has been coaching me.”
Another surprise. “I didn’t think you were friends.”
Her eyes were glittering when she turned to face him. “Funny how things have a way of changing when you’re an adult.”
Yes, funny that.
She brushed the towel against his shirt. “She’s actually very nice.”
Rafe couldn’t take his gaze from her eyes. “I was surprised to see your car. I thought you were in Austin.”
“Oh. Yes, I am in Austin. In a way,” she said with a flutter of her fingers.
What did that mean?
She concentrated on his shirt. “Oh, and guess what? Luca and Ella are building a house on his land. When they get married, they’re moving into his loft until it’s finished. And when it’s finished, they are going to totally immerse themselves in ecological rejuvenation.” She paused, her smile deepening. “That’s a direct quote.” She arched a brow.
Rafe and Hallie broke into simultaneous laughter. Hallie loved her brother, but she and Rafe had sometimes found Luca’s enthusiasm for conservation amusing. “I guess the prairie chickens paid off after all,” he said.
Hallie giggled, then pulled a sorrowful face. “Don’t make fun, Rafe. That has turned into a very tragic story. There are only about a dozen of them left, according to Luca. He’s distraught. And vowing revenge.” Before Rafe could ask revenge against whom, she said, “It’s so good to see you.”
His eyes moved over her face, remembering every freckle, the exact placement of her dimples. She had no idea what it meant to him to see her. “You, too, Hallie,” he said quietly.
Her smile softened. “I’ve really missed you, you know that? So much,” she whispered.
Those words squeezed his throat. Rafe couldn’t help himself; he touched her cheek. His heart had melted, and he felt like the rest of him was crumbling into dust again. Missing was too inadequate a word for the way he’d felt. An entire history that lived in him had been extracted, and left in its place was a gaping, weeping hole. “Same.”
“I guess it would be inappropriate to kiss you hello?”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” he said.
“Since when have I gone with the good ideas?”
Hallie. His heart was already broken. What was one more kiss? “I suppose I could allow it this once.”
Her eyes sparkled. “Okay, here goes. Do you need to hold on to something?”
Only you. He shook his head.
She slid her hands up his chest, and around his neck. She pulled his head down to her, lifted her face, and touched her lips to his, so softly. So reverently. So carefully. His senses, which had lain dormant these last few weeks, began to unfurl. He put his arms around her waist. He drew her closer. He was falling back to another time, to Aspen, and all his emotions, all the desire began to wave.
But then Hallie slipped down and pushed back. She looked alarmed. “Oh no.”
“What?” he asked, confused.
She suddenly turned around and retched into the toilet.
“Oh!” Rafe said, grimacing.
She retched again.
“Hallie! Oh no, Hallie, no.” He had to turn around and face the wall, swallowing down the nausea that started to build. “Jesus, are you okay?”
Her response was to flush the toilet. “Sorry! I must have eaten something that didn’t agree with me.”
“Do you need to sit down?” he asked the wall, still afraid to turn.
“I don’t think so. I feel much better. You can turn around now.”
He heard the sink begin to run, heard her rinse her mouth. He slowly pivoted toward her. “Are you okay?”
She grinned sheepishly. “I think so. Come on. Let me show you around.”
She pushed aside the plastic flap and stepped into the warehouse. The kiss, the moment, was gone. Rafe hesitantly followed.
She opened the bay door and said they were going to put in a big picture window. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?”
He would say beautiful. All trees and a creek, and even as they stood there, looking out at the rain-drenched landscape, a hawk perched on a fence post and calmly stared back at them. In the distance, a few cows grazed alongside goats. “That’s Prince land for you,” Rafe said. “Prettiest country in this part of Texas.”
“That’s Prince land?” she said, her voice full of wonder. “The ranch is too damn big.”
Rafe laughed. He wanted to put his arm around her.
She showed him the flooring samples, and the mirrors they would install. “So who is going to dance here?” he asked.
“I’m so glad you asked,” she said. “Remember the little girl in the Thanksgiving Day show? The one who made you cry?”
“I didn’t cry.”
“You cried,” Hallie said breezily. “My idea is to teach more kids like her to dance. I’ve been in contact with a group in San Antonio that serves the needs of disabled kids. And I’m talking to the school district. I’m going to advertise, too, and get the word out, and Genevieve is going to help me. I’m excited, Rafe. You inspired me.”
“Me?”
“Yes! By what you’re doing in Chicago. But really, because you were the one who encouraged me to figure out what I needed and not what I thought others expected of me.”
“I did?”
She laughed. “You did!”
Rafe looked around him. She’d accomplished so much in a short amount of time. “But what about Austin? Aren’t you in school?”
Hallie didn’t answer for a moment. When he looked at her, she smiled a little. “I’m enrolled,” she said. “I’m learning a lot about myself.”
That was not an answer, but he wasn’t going to press it. The less he knew, the easier it was to keep his emotions in check. Or so he assumed. “This looks great, Hallie. Congratulations.”
She smiled gratefully. “How about you? How is it going in Chicago?”
Rafe shrugged. He forced himself to smile. “It’s going. Rico loves the work.”
“Fantastic.”
She asked about Rico, and Rafe told her how he was actually making it work, both in terms of a job and his sobriety. But the more he talked, the more he ached, and he finally said, “Well, it was great to see you, Hallie. I should probably go.”
“Oh.” She turned toward the door. “Right. Probably best. Talk to you later?”
“Sure,” he said, and started for the door.
“Tell your mom I said hi!” she called after him.
Rafe glanced back. He watched her swipe up her camera from a bench on her way and walked to where the workmen were setting big mirrors on the walls.
He made himself leave. He felt strangely sad. He wasn’t part of this, not even as a text advisor. Not even a little. She really had moved on with her life.
Later that evening, he looked at her Instagram. She’d posted pictures from the warehouse today. Mostly pictures of Sulley sitting on a tool belt. And the obligatory selfie taken in front of one of the newly installed mirrors.
For the millionth time, Rafe closed his eyes and thought of Aspen.
Chapter Twenty-eight
Hallie was definitely pregnant.
If the tests hadn’t convinced her—she had an amazing capacity to argue what she wanted to be true as opposed to the truth displayed on four pee sticks—the morning sickness definitely had.
She was hiding her bouts of sickness, too, and that was getting difficult. She had finally convinced her mother that her ge
neral queasiness was the result of an intolerance to milk and milk products.
“Since when?” her mother had demanded.
“I don’t know. For a while,” Hallie had said vaguely. “I need to be careful.”
She wasn’t even remotely prepared for a pregnancy, and she’d been shocked by it, too. It figured that she would be in the two percent of the population for whom condoms were not effective. But even in the midst of her fluster, she felt surprisingly excited about it. Thrilled, actually.
Hallie desperately wanted to tell Rafe. She didn’t know how he would take the news, but one thing she knew with all her heart—Rafe Fontana would do what he thought was the right thing. He would insist they get married. But Hallie didn’t know if she wanted to get married. She loved Rafe, she really did, more than anything—but to get married because she was pregnant? That seemed exactly like something the old Hallie would do because it was easier. It was expected. But the new Hallie was perfectly capable of being a single mother.
Well, she hoped she was, anyway.
Of course she would love it if she and Rafe could raise a child together. But she didn’t want Rafe to marry her out of a sense of duty. She wanted him to marry her if it was right for them both. At least after a period of proper dating instead of sneaking around. She didn’t want any misguided notions that he was saving her, either, because she didn’t need anyone to save her from this. She’d already figured things out for herself—she would push herself to finish the coursework before the baby came. She didn’t need to live in Austin to do that—the two cities were close enough that she could make the drive to Austin once a week for class and do the rest online, just as Tasha at the Comeback Center had explained.
But Hallie wasn’t moving back to the ranch either. She was doing this on her own terms. She needed to do this on her own. But if she did it with Rafe, even better. As she saw it, she had a choice between two positives: her and a baby, or her, a baby, and Rafe.
She talked to Ella about renting her little house. “But what about Austin?” Ella asked.