by Heidi McVay
He watched as his mother pushed herself to her feet and retrieved the ugly pink towel, unfolding it. He stood and bent over the tub to lift Evie from the water, delivering her into her grandmother’s waiting arms. “Because he kept asking me to marry him and move to Cairo. It didn’t seem to matter to him that I was happy where I was. I was successful in my own right, Zarek. I’d started the pottery studio; I was having showings in galleries and making a decent living for us. Until your father understood that relationships work by give and take, I couldn’t say yes.”
It was as if his mother had clubbed him over the head at that moment. Understanding ripped down his spine in the form of a cold chill. It was exactly what he’d done to Scarlett. He found himself unable to speak as a lump rose in his throat. His mother rocked back and forth, Evie on her hip as she spoke again, bluntly and without censoring her words, not even seeming to realize that she’d shifted Zarek’s entire world with her explanation. “Any man who expects a woman to give up everything, and him give up nothing, doesn’t know what relationships are really about. If you love someone, you’ll never ask them to do something you aren’t willing to do yourself.”
“And now?” Zarek pushed those words out, unsurprised when it came out in a rasp that was as tangled as his insides were. “What changed, Mom?”
A smile spread over his mother’s lips, and genuine pleasure shone through her eyes. “He turned up on my doorstep two days ago with a very large suitcase in his hand and a letter from an immigration attorney. He’d started the process of applying for a visa. So this time, I said yes.”
Zarek licked his lips, his eyes moving to his daughter. His vision blurred as he realized fully just where he’d screwed up. So many fucking ways, so many fucking mistakes. “Mom, can you stay here with Evie for a couple of days?”
He watched as her lips curved into a smile. She reached up and cupped his cheek, tugging his head down. His mother kissing his forehead should have been embarrassing, but instead, it sent a wave of comfort through him. “I would be happy to have a visit with my grandbaby and that handsome barn dweller out there. You should probably go pack. I’m pretty sure you can get a flight out.”
“I’m driving.” He pressed a kiss to his mother’s forehead, and then his daughter’s before turning for the door. “There’s something I have to do.”
Chapter Twelve
Scarlett knew something was off the second her little house came into view. A tiny black convertible sat out front, with the top down. Every light inside was on. As she pulled in behind the convertible, she peered at the license plate. A rental? For a second, her heart quickened. She’d answered none of Zarek’s calls, had deleted every single voicemail and text without listening or reading them. Had he left Las Vegas and come here? There was no car seat in the car, though, and convertibles had never been Zarek’s style. Scarlett killed the engine and stared at her house for a moment before she saw a familiar figure moving in the window. What was her mother doing here?
She reached for the bag of groceries she’d gone to get and climbed from her tiny car, making her way to the door. Once inside, she could smell something suspicious as her mother stood in front of the stove. It wasn’t just the frying chicken that she smelled. Was that…pot? Scarlett sniffed the air once more, and the distinct odor only confirmed that it was, indeed, marijuana. She stepped around the fireplace that stood in the center of the single room of the cabin and spoke over the music that pulsed loudly from her stereo. “Momma?”
Her mother jumped a little and glanced back at her, then lifted the remote to turn off the music she’d been playing. Beth Landry didn’t even like Pink Floyd. Come to think of it; she wasn’t even sure if her mother knew who they were. Her mom offered her a smile as she reached for the joint that rested on a saucer by the stove, then lifted the tongs in her other hand. “Scarlett! I’ve been waiting here for hours. Where have you been?”
“Never mind where I’ve been. What are you doing here? And where did you get weed?” Scarlett had barely gotten the question out when her mother pointed toward the narrow spiral staircase that led up to her loft bedroom.
“You’ve been keeping it in your underwear drawer since you were sixteen, Scarlett. You are a lot of things, dear, but subtle is not one of them.” Her mother waved the tongs as she took another long inhalation from the joint she held with a level of familiarity and expertise that was even more shocking than the sight of her uninvited arrival. “Come have some, Sweetie. You seem stressed.”
Scarlett placed the grocery bags down on the counter. “Well, if I weren’t stressed before, I certainly am now. I leave for a few hours to run some errands and come back to find that my painfully Baptist mother has broken into my house, decided to fry chicken, and smoke my weed. Mom, what’s going on?”
Her mother stubbed the remains of the joint out onto the saucer and focused on the chicken. “Scarlett Jane Landry, you better watch your tone.” The words were accompanied by a glance that reminded Scarlett of the times she’d spent on the receiving end of her mother’s wrath. She cleared her throat and tried again, purposefully gentling her voice. “Momma, not that I’m not glad to see you. But maybe you could explain to me why…” It hit her out of nowhere. She rolled her eyes and braced her hands on the countertop. “Mom, have you been talking to Sylvia?”
“Of course I have, darlin’.” Her mother answered her without hesitation. “Now, why don’t you peel those potatoes I see in that bag, and I’ll make you some mashed potatoes to go with the chicken?”
“Dammit, Momma. I don’t want to talk about fried chicken and mashed potatoes. I want to know why you’re here. I’ve lived here for over a year, and you’ve never come to visit. I don’t want food. I want answers!” Scarlett didn’t even attempt to keep the bite from her voice now. It was taking everything within her to keep from breaking all over again. She’d already burst into tears in the cereal aisle of the grocery store and sobbed with such force that she’d scared a child, right there in front of the Raisin Bran.
Beth lifted her head and cut a stern look at her, causing Scarlett to bristle in reflex. Her voice was low as she lifted a finger and shook it at her like she had when Scarlett was a child. “You want to know why I’m here? I’m here because I love you, and I don’t want to see you ruin your life all over again.”
“You mean you want to meddle in my life.” She shot back, even as she took a step back on instinct, knowing her mother’s propensity for swatting with whatever was handy. “What happened in Las Vegas is between Zarek and me. It’s no one’s business but mine and his.”
“Well, when that boy calls me crying because you ran away when he told you he loves you, it becomes my business. Now, if you aren’t going to be helpful, you just go sit your butt down in that chair right over there and listen.” Her mother’s sudden vehemence made Scarlett freeze. While soft-spoken and prim, Beth Landry had never been a doormat. She pointed to the kitchen table with the tongs. “You heard me, little girl.”
Scarlett chafed at the language and shot her mother a glare. Nevertheless, she crossed the tiny space to the kitchen table and sat down. She remained silent, watching as her mother stepped away for the grocery bag and produced two large potatoes from inside it. Several seconds later, she delivered the potatoes and paring knife to Scarlett, plunking it down next to a bowl, uttering the words with the singular command of a matriarch who would not be defied. “Peel the potatoes, keep your mouth shut and listen.”
She reached for a potato on autopilot and lifted the paring knife in her other hand. Horror dawned on her as she realized what her mother was doing. Zarek had been right. Their mothers were conspiring, and she’d not given them nearly enough credit. Scarlett felt the burn of humiliation as tears began to well up all over again. She gripped the potato in one hand, and the knife in the other as a sob worked its way from her chest. Her mother was at her side in an instant, arms slipping around her. Scarlett dropped both the potato and the knife and wrapped her arms around her mot
her’s waist as she let go. Shudders wracked her body, torn from her in a way they hadn’t, even after Zarek had walked away two years earlier. Her mother stroked her back and murmured soft words into her hair. “That’s it, baby girl. Let it go. It’s okay. Everything’s gonna be just fine. You just cry it out.”
And she did. Scarlett wept as she had when she’d been fourteen and first realized that Zarek was never going to look at her the way he did other girls. Scar. He’d always called her Scar. Never Scarlett, as though he were afraid to acknowledge her as a girl, as a woman. The tears burned their way down her face as she buried her face in her mother’s shoulder, only to find Beth’s arms tightening around her. The anger and the hurt were scalding from the inside out as the words burst out from somewhere inside her. “I hate him. Momma, I hate him.”
Her mother gave a soft laugh, indulgent, and patient as she stroked Scarlett’s hair and coaxed her to lift her head as the waves of self-pity began to abate. “No, you don’t. You don’t really hate him. You’re hurting, and it feels like the same thing, but you know you could never hate him, Scarlett Jane.”
Scarlett sniffled miserably as she nodded. “I know. And I think that’s worse. If I could hate him, it would mean that he can’t hurt me anymore.”
“Hate don’t hurt no one but you.” Her mother repeated the words she’d said so many times that Scarlett knew them by heart. Beth pulled the other chair closer and took a seat. “You know that boy loves you more than his own life.”
“No, he doesn’t.” Scarlett shot back as she buried her face in her hands. “For a second, I thought he might. And momma, I was so happy. But then… then he just started telling me about all this stuff he wanted me to do. He wanted me to marry him. He wanted me to move to California. He wanted me to go to Greece. He wanted… he never stopped to think about what I want.”
“What do you want?” Her mother posed the question so softly that for a moment, Scarlett thought she was mocking her. But when she raised her eyes to Beth’s face, her mother was staring at her as if she were truly a puzzle to be figured out. “I’m serious, Scarlett. What do you want?”
“Zarek.” Scarlett whispered the single word as she bowed her head and scrubbed at her face. “But he was lying the entire time. I almost believed him. But then, there was just this moment, this sickening moment, Momma.” She hiccupped as she felt another wave of anguish begin to rise in her. “When I realized that he was only asking me for all those things because I was an easy fucking lay.”
Her mother released her and rose to her feet. Beth heaved a longsuffering sigh. She picked up the tongs once more and began to turn the chicken again. She was silent for several seconds before she spoke slowly as if Scarlett were a particularly slow child. “I swear to the good Lord above, Scarlett Jane, that’s just about the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard pass your lips.”
“Mom!” Scarlett rose from her seat to protest. Her mother turned sharply and gestured back to the chair. Scarlett dropped into again. “I’m serious. He wanted sex, and he wants a babysitter. And he pretended to be serious to get those things. It was humiliating.”
Her mother waved the tongs once more, “Scarlett, just listen to yourself. That boy has been in love with you since he was seventeen years old.”
The anger was rising again, passing over the sadness of her broken heart. “What? He has not. He never said anything about that. Zarek sucks at keeping secrets.”
“You never said anything to him, either.” Beth’s pointed stare was like a punch straight to the gut. “You never told him how you felt. Did you?” Her mother repeated, emphasizing the words more gently.
Grudgingly, Scarlett rolled her eyes and then admitted. “No. I didn’t.” She drew in a deep breath. “It doesn’t matter now anyway. I can’t do it, Mom. I can’t pretend he didn’t rip my heart out. He walked away from a lifetime of friendship like it was nothing. Like I was nothing. I can’t let him in again. If he does it again, I couldn’t survive it.”
“Oh, my Lord. Scarlett, stop being so damn dramatic. And besides, you’re sitting here putting all the blame on him. If you’d stop feeling so damn sorry for yourself, you’d be able to see it differently. I’ve seen you hurting yourself for two years because that man made a hard choice.” Scarlett opened her mouth to speak, but her mother waved a hand at her.
“No. You just sit, and you listen. I’ve held my tongue for too long. Zarek hurt you, but you are not blameless in any of this. Not then, and certainly not now. I think you need to take a long, hard look at your own choices, little girl.”
The words were a lecture if ever Scarlett had endured one. She opened her mouth once more, but yet again; her mother was on a roll.
“Grow up. You can’t expect a man, any man, to be perfect. Love isn’t perfect. Zarek is only human, and he’s going to make mistakes, but at least he’s trying to do better. Tell me, Scarlett Jane, what have you done to change?”
Scarlett’s eyes dropped to the table as the words sank in. Her chest was suddenly tight. In one horrifying moment, she realized her mother was right. She’d done nothing to change her life for the better. Moving to Colorado had only changed the location of her self-imposed misery.
She’d become comfortable in her angst. But even then, despite this realization, she still shook her head. “You’re right. But I still can’t forgive him, Mom.”
“It’s not him you have to forgive, Scarlett.” Her mom’s words were softer now, sadder somehow. Scarlett looked up to find her mother steadily removing the chicken from the skillet and placing it on a plate lined with paper towels to drain. “It was never Zarek McCall you were angry with.”
Like a bomb, her world exploded around her all over again. Scarlett stared at her mother. It never failed to surprise her, how well her mother knew her. Inside and out. The only person who knew her better was Zarek. It had always been, it would always be Zarek. The truth slapped her in the face, hard and fast. Scarlett stared at the wall behind her, where her mother was now rummaging in her pantry, finally producing a box of instant mashed potatoes.
Beth was right. About everything. She’d been so angry with herself for letting him walk away, for not going after him. She hadn’t told him. She’d never told him, and she’d lost the chance the second he walked out the door. And she’d hated herself for years now because of that one mistake. Scarlett cleared her throat and leaned down to retrieve the fallen potato and knife, then rose to her feet, carrying them to the kitchen. She spoke quietly as she placed them on the counter. “I have some green beans in the freezer.”
“That would be perfect. Thank you.” And just like that, the conversation about Zarek was over. But how did she fix her mistakes?
She’d made so many. She couldn’t even begin to inventory the ways she’d messed up. What now? Mistakes were made, but could they be unmade?
Chapter Thirteen
Zarek glanced to where his phone was mounted in the cradle on the dash. The GPS said he was getting closer. A moment later, the phone rang with the call he’d been hoping to get for the last hundred miles of the drive to Colorado. He reached out to put it on speakerphone.
“Embry? What’d you think?”
“You’re right. It looks great, Zarek. But, I can’t possibly pay you the price your mom quoted me. I’m sorry. It’s just more than I can afford.” The woman’s voice was a crackle, a sign that Scarlett had moved farther from civilization than he’d thought.
His heart sank a little as he mentally calculated for the hundredth time. He wasn’t going to so much as break even. He bit his lower lip and pulled off the highway onto the side of the road, flicking on Buttercup’s hazards. “Listen, Embry; this is really important. Okay? I understand that it’s a lot. But you could call me a motivated seller. Give me a number.”
There was a moment of silence before the woman’s voice came once more. “You’re jerking my chain, aren’t you?”
“No.” Jesse was going to kill him for what he was doing. Zarek just hoped that the m
an would eventually understand why he had to do this, and quickly. “Give me a number.”
He could almost hear the wheels in the woman’s head turning as he waited. A heartbeat later, she answered him hesitantly. “I could go two if you’re willing to wait for financing, but if you want a cash offer, the highest I can do is one point seven.”
Zarek closed his eyes, cringing as he buried his face in his hands. It was way too low. He didn’t owe money on his home, and he had more than enough to live comfortably without ever having to work again, but a hit in the hundreds of thousands still stung a lot. He drew in a breath and exhaled it heavily. Zarek bit his lower lip as an idea occurred to him. “Okay. How about we go one point five, cash, and you agree to let my tenant stay on the property for the rest of his lease. We did a two-year term, and he’s about halfway through. Would you do that?”
He was going to lose his fucking shirt on this, and it was like a hollow pit in the bottom of his stomach. He was gambling everything, maybe even literally, on this working. Embry’s voice was tinged with disbelief as she spoke again. “Good tenant?”
“He’s a solid tenant, never late on the rent, and he’s pretty quiet, except for his dog. But the dog’s friendly, you’ll probably like him.” Zarek knew he was going to hell for not telling her that Jesse, whom he knew Embry Turner hated with a passion, was the tenant. They were both going to kill him. “And I want a quick close, as in I’ll have the contract ready for you to sign in twenty-four hours. I’m pretty sure you noticed the movers packing up the truck.”
“I did notice that. And I’ll take it for those terms.” A flood of relief replaced the dread. Suddenly, the money didn’t matter anymore. Calabasas wasn’t his home. Scarlett was his home. Zarek closed his eyes for a moment and gripped the wheel to steady himself. “Mind if I ask why the hurry? The place isn’t going to explode or drop off into the canyon or something, is it?”