She’d hated being rejected, hated the cheap way it had happened, with Tagg sleeping with Cake Girl instead of having the guts to tell her to her face that he didn’t love her enough to marry her.
But now she felt only relief. Thank God she hadn’t married him! Who knew how long she would’ve kept telling herself she loved him, kept trying to make it work, despite the nagging in her soul that surely there must be more.
With Colton she felt love the way it was meant to be. He knew her so well, her vulnerabilities and her strengths, and he wasn’t afraid to call her out on either. But now he was rejecting her too.
* * *
Colton found the door to Hannah’s room closed. On it was a little magnet board covered with pictures of her and her friends and some goofy signs her friends had made for her eighteenth birthday. Typical teenager stuff.
The photo that caught his eye was of Hannah hugging a scraggly teddy bear whose left eye hung a little lower than his right. Elmer. Colton had sewed that eye back on when he was sixteen, after they’d all hunted for it for over an hour on Cookie’s front lawn.
He remembered how Hannah had cried about that lost eye, big, heaving sobs that had made him vow he’d search high and low all night if he had to, until the thing was found.
Where had the years gone? And why couldn’t today’s problems be as simple to fix as yesterday’s? Sewing on a teddy bear eye was nothing compared to worrying about the consequences of bad choices.
He hated that Hannah was growing up. He really hated the thought of her getting serious with someone. Someone who was a tattooed troublemaker, who would probably dump her for some other girl in a heartbeat. Someone who could get her pregnant and narrow her choices and alter the course of her life forever.
He rubbed the heel of his hand over his forehead. It was no secret that he had a difficult time talking about feelings. Add the birds and the bees into the discussion and he felt beyond helpless. But now he had no choice. Hannah’s life was too important to him. He wanted her to have the best life ever—full of love and happiness and fulfillment. Every choice that had been taken away from him—through his parents’ deaths, his heaped-on responsibilities, his blown-out knee—he wanted to be hers for the asking. He’d been a coward to depend on someone else to do what he should’ve done himself.
He knocked on the door.
No answer, but he was pretty sure she was in there, so he knocked louder.
“Come in,” Hannah said. “Is it Cookie?”
“Colton.”
He opened the door to find her sitting on her bed in a jumble of blankets, talking into her laptop. Elmer stared at him with his uneven, oddly suspicious gaze from her side.
“I’m FaceTiming Sydney,” she said, laughing at something. “What’s up?”
“I wanted to talk with you. Can you call her back?”
“Hey, Syd, I gotta go. I’ll text you later, K?” She closed the computer.
There were clothes tossed all over the floor, makeup strewn across her dresser top, some smudged into the carpet. Photos lined her vanity mirror on both sides, mostly of her and her friends hamming it up for the camera. A lacy purple bra dangled off the edge of the mirror. He was really, really glad he never came in here.
He headed for the desk chair. “Can I sit here?” She jumped off the bed and moved the clothes that hung over the back of the chair. “I wanted to talk to you about something I probably should have brought up a long time ago.”
Hannah bit back a smile. “I’ve already had my period, Colton. It’s all good.”
“Ha ha. Look, I’m just going to come out and say it, OK? I found some pills in the cabinet when I was searching for a Band-Aid. I-I wondered if you’d talk to me about that.”
“About why I’m on the pill?”
He nodded. His hands were clenched so tightly on his knees he was pretty sure he’d leave bruises, and his jaw was stiff from clenching. But he had to stay the course on this, or he’d never forgive himself.
“Wait—no,” he said. “It’s not really about that. I feel like I’ve let you down as a brother.”
“What are you talking about? Most boys are terrified to ask me out because you’re so scary.” She was smiling.
That was the idea, but clearly Aiden hadn’t gotten the scary memo. And Colton didn’t feel very intimidating now.
Who the hell was he to give a sex talk anyway? He hadn’t had a serious relationship in his life. He’d cultivated that lifestyle on purpose. Carefree, easygoing Colt, who had enough responsibilities at home. Who didn’t want to be tied down to anyone.
Until now. Until Sara. And now he’d wrecked that.
“I screwed up because I was afraid to talk to you about what’s important because it made me uncomfortable. Because I told myself it was easier to send you to someone else who could help you.”
“That was great advice. I love Sara. By the way, she said she’d take me to the Young Adult Bookfest in Coventry next weekend. My favorite author’s going to be there and there’s food and a street party. Wanna come?”
“Maybe. The point is, I passed something off on Sara that I should have done myself. Should have said myself.” He took a deep breath. “Don’t have sex just to have sex. Or because a boy is pressuring you. Do it because you love someone.”
“I haven’t had sex, Colton.”
His exhalation was audible. “You haven’t?”
“No. And I’m not going to have sex with randos or just to hook up.”
“If you aren’t having sex…then why are you taking those pills?”
“Because I’ve been seeing Aiden since March. I love him. And I’m thinking of having sex with him.”
March? Jesus, it was July. He’d had no idea.
“I’m sorry I hid it from you,” she said. “I was afraid you’d go ballistic.”
“Look, Hannah, Aiden has a lot of things to overcome. He’s already gotten into trouble and my whole reason for bringing him here was to…”
“I know, Colton. Get him on the straight and narrow. He appreciates it. He knows he screwed up with the pot, but he’s a good guy. And very driven. His dream is to own his own company one day.”
“Hannah, there are lots of guys out there. Ones with intact families who don’t have all that turmoil at home and lots of stuff to overcome.”
“We come from a family with a lot of turmoil and lots of stuff to overcome, and look how we turned out. Well, you can speak for yourself, but I’m personally planning on being terrific.”
Colton cracked a smile. God, he loved this kid. “Hannah, you are terrific. And you’ve got your whole life ahead of you. Decisions like sex can lead to permanent consequences—babies.” There, he’d said it. “I want you to have every choice, every opportunity you dream of. I don’t want something like an unplanned pregnancy or a boyfriend that ties you down to this town to make you alter your dreams. So I still wish you’d wait.”
“Sara told me the same thing. She told me to talk to you because she said you’d probably be afraid to bring it up. She said you weren’t going to like that I was starting the pill, but it was my decision. And she told me how to be safe. I really like her, Colton. Honestly, you’d be an idiot if you didn’t marry her.”
Sara told her the same thing. Yet he’d been so angry, accusing her of dispensing birth control with little thought. And of course she’d told Hannah to talk to him because she herself could not.
God, he was an ass.
He stood up and went over to the bed. Hannah’s phone with the pink sparkly case was next to her, pinging every few minutes. He remembered when she wore pink sparkly tutus and pink sparkly ballet slippers and pink sparkly everything. Not everything had changed, apparently.
He put his arm around her and hugged her. “I’m really proud of you. You have a lot of good sense. I love you.”
She wrapped her arms around him. “Oh, Colty, I love you too.” After a few seconds, he heard sniffing.
“What is it?” he asked, drawing ba
ck to look at her.
“It’s just—sometimes you’re a kick-ass brother. I want you to know that. You’ve taken good care of me and Cookie.”
Sometimes. He’d take that as a compliment. He smiled against her hair. “I still don’t want you to have sex. Ever.”
She hugged him back. “I’ll take it under advisement. Now what about you? Don’t screw things up with Sara, OK?”
Don’t screw things up. Yeah, he was pretty sure he’d already done that.
Chapter 21
There were times when not having your own place was a very bad thing. Like now, for instance, when Sara sat numbly on her grandmother’s old sofa, Rocket lodged next to her hip. Gabby, Rachel, her dad, and Nonna were due back any minute from the senior center meatball competition. She didn’t want to see anybody. She just wanted to watch The Notebook and ugly cry.
She checked her phone every ten seconds, but there were no texts from Colton saying he was sorry for being an ass and couldn’t live without her. Dammit.
She was rummaging through the cupboards looking for Nonna’s Christmas Eve bottle of Crown Royal when Gabby walked in. “Nonna won the sauce contest and Rachel and Dad took her for ice cream to celebrate. And I stopped at the liquor store because Dad told me Tagg’s back and causing trouble—” Gabby took a good, hard look at Sara. “Geez, you look terrible.”
“Colton broke up with me,” she said, her voice cracking. She gave up on the liquor search and poked around in the freezer. Through the blur of tears, she saw a bunch of things wrapped up in tinfoil and labeled with masking tape with dates on it. A quick perusal showed random packages marked “2013” and “2014.” No ice cream. She shut the door.
“Did you say liquor store?”
Gabby held up a brown bag. Sara didn’t care what was in it. She’d take it.
“Oh, Sara. Maybe he just needs time—”
“He hasn’t called me to make up.” Gabby pried her phone out of her hand and set it on the kitchen table. “He’s not going to, Gabs. He broke up with me. Done. Finito. Kaput.”
“What happened?”
She took the bag from Gabby and pulled out a bottle of wine. “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I saw his sister in the office at his request and…and I can’t really talk about it but he’s upset with me.”
“You gave her the sex talk?”
She nodded. “And other things.”
“He should be thanking you.”
“Well, he’s pissed.” She rolled the cold bottom of the wine bottle against her forehead. “Really pissed. And then Tagg was here, being an idiot, and it just snowballed. And then Colton said he wanted to call it quits. Said we’re too different. Just like that.”
“Have you had dinner?”
Sara’s eyes suddenly filled with tears. “I don’t want dinner, Gabby. I want Colton.”
Gabby guided her over to Nonna’s table and pulled out a chair. As Sara glanced out the big bay window, she saw the old oak tree, steadfast and solid, but somehow it didn’t provide her with any of its usual comfort.
“Sit here,” Gabby said. “I’m going to make you something to eat, OK?”
They’d gotten used to taking care of each other after their mother died, depended on each other for comfort and confidences. Gabby’s mothering was familiar and welcome.
Gabby opened the wine and poured them each a glass in one of the many plastic cups in every color of the rainbow that filled Nonna’s cupboards.
Her sister handed her a cup, and Sara took it gratefully. Gabby had just started to crack eggs into a bowl when they heard voices coming up the walkway.
“Oh, they’re home,” Gabby said.
“Don’t say anything.” Sara wiped her eyes and blew her nose.
The door opened, and Nonna, her dad, and Rachel walked in. Nonna was clutching an old iron pot with a blue-and-white-speckled lid to her chest.
“I won first prize in the meatball contest,” she said.
“The best meatballs this side of the Mississippi,” her dad said, giving Nonna a hug.
“And there were ten other contestants,” Rachel said, looking elegant as usual in jeans and a sleeveless black blouse.
“Oh, Nonna, that’s wonderful,” Sara said, a note of false cheer in her voice. Rachel, always intuitive, looked at her a little strangely, but kept a smile on her face.
“I got a gift certificate to Giuseppe’s. So it can be my treat next time we all go.” Nonna looked at Gabby, who was beating the eggs. “Who are those for?”
“Sara. She’s feeling a little low and hasn’t had any dinner yet.”
Nonna shooed her away and took over the cooking in that way she always had. “Go, go, sit down. Sara, want some mushrooms in your omelet?”
“Anything you want, Nonna,” Sara said. She wanted nothing but Colton. That big stubborn jackass.
“Why are you feeling low?” Rachel asked, narrowing her eyes.
“Colton and I broke up.” There, she’d said it. They might as well know.
“Damn that Taggart,” her dad said. “Thinking he can come home with his tail between his legs like that and stir trouble. You’re not taking him back, are you?”
“No, of course not.”
“Oh, honey,” Rachel said. “I’m so sorry.”
“Colton’s jealous,” her father said. “That’s got to be it. He certainly didn’t appreciate Tagg showing up in the office today.”
“I have no idea why he’d feel threatened. I don’t love Tagg anymore. I don’t want Tagg anymore. I love Colton.”
“Did you tell him that?” Rachel asked.
“I tried to, but he was too busy being angry with me about seeing his sister in the office to listen.”
“I know about that visit,” her dad said, frowning a little. “The pharmacy called me about the prescription.”
She nodded. She thought her father would understand the difficulties of seeing Hannah in the office, even if they couldn’t really talk about it now in front of everyone.
He patted her knee as if she were twelve again. Kissed her forehead. “Hang in there, sweetheart.”
She attempted a smile. “Thanks, Dad.”
Rachel hugged her. “I’m sorry, sweetie.”
She squeezed Rachel’s hand. “Thanks, Rach.”
After her dad and Rachel left, Nonna served her up a perfect mushroom-and-onion omelet, and made one for Gabby too, but Sara was barely able to stomach a bite. Then they all sat on the couch, Nonna in the middle covered up with her favorite crocheted afghan, and turned on an episode of Friends, which Nonna loved.
Nonna wrapped her arm around Sara’s shoulders and Sara leaned her head against Nonna’s shoulder. She smelled like baby powder and spaghetti sauce, not a bad combination, actually.
“Nonna, where are our mom’s journals?” Gabby asked during a commercial. She tended to ask every once in a while. You never know when Nonna’s memory could be triggered, she’d say. “We’ve combed through every box in the attic.”
“In my bedroom closet,” Nonna said. “Want a meatball?”
Gabby got up and came back into the room a few minutes later with a box.
Sara saw the elated expression on Gabby’s face and threw back the afghan. “Oh my God.”
“What is that?” Nonna asked.
“It’s a box of Mom’s things. I found it exactly where you said it would be.”
Gabby set the box down and knelt on the floor to rummage through it. It was filled with bundles of computer-printed paper rubber-banded together.
“These aren’t journals,” Gabby said excitedly. “They’re stories. Typed out.”
“Oh, your mother was always writing stories, from the time she was in third grade,” Nonna said.
Gabby pulled out a fat bundle. “What kind of stories did she write, Nonna?”
“Oh, adventures with animals mostly. Kid stuff. She always did have an amazing imagination
. She stopped writing once she got married, but after Rafe was born, she got back to it. She even had a writers’ group. I think she may have been writing a romance novel. You know, like that one about the girl falling in love with the priest.”
“Good God, Mom was writing a Thorn Birds story?” Sara said. “Maybe you don’t want to read that. There might be love scenes.” She made a silly gagging gesture for Gabby’s benefit.
Gabby was completely enthralled, leafing through the bundles and the notebooks. “Nonna, is it OK for me to have this? Sara, it’s all right with you, isn’t it?”
“Oh, have at it,” Sara said. It felt good to see Gabby happy. Excited about something other than Malcolm.
“Well, this was a lovely surprise,” Nonna said.
“I know!” Gabby said, grinning.
Despite her pain, Sara couldn’t help but be happy for her sister. She put a hand on her shoulder. “You always loved to write. Maybe it will give you some inspiration.” Now if only it gave Gabby some inspiration to dump that idiot Malcolm. But Sara didn’t want to ruin things by saying that.
“Just knowing Mom did this inspires me. I don’t even need to read what she wrote, although I will. Every word.”
Gabby emptied all the papers out until they were piled all around her. Then she tipped the box toward herself and reached into the bottom. “Oh my God, Sara.”
“What is it?”
She pulled out a small rectangular box wrapped in pretty pink-and-green paper, with a silver bow.
Under the bow was a tag.
Gabby exchanged glances with Sara. Sara knew Gabby was thinking the same thing she was.
Her long-lost birthday present from so long ago. Somewhere deep inside, she knew it. Even more fitting, because tomorrow was her birthday. Her eyes filled with tears yet again.
Aw, hell. As if there hadn’t been enough crying today.
Gabby handed it over. She was getting teary too.
“Open it, sweetheart,” Nonna said.
Sara flipped over the tag. Her name was written in her mother’s beautiful script, with the usual flourishes and swirls she’d used for special occasions.
Then There Was You Page 25