by Brea Viragh
“Ah, Ros.” Finn swiveled around to face me, and his head dipped until his lips reached mine. We came together in a frantic crash of heat. Mouths massaging the other and bodies pressed as close as physically possible. My arms looped around his neck until we’d passed heat and moved into urgent.
“I will never hate you.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”
“I hurt you, and I’m sorry,” I admitted. “I hurt myself, and I don’t know why anymore.”
“It will work out better this way. Maybe you were right. We’re too different. It wasn’t for nothing.”
“It wasn’t for nothing,” I repeated.
“No one has given me the same kindness and compassion you have.” He put his hands on my shoulders, rubbing. “My life has been an entire you can’t win no matter what scenario. Until I met you.”
My head was reeling. “Why are you making this so difficult?”
“I used to think I’d never get my lucky break. I thought shattering my legs was the lowest point. A shit cherry on top of the shit show of my life since they took Winter away. Since I lost my parents and my baby. Until you.”
“Finn, don’t.”
“Until the door opened and the light poured through.” He used his fingertips to trace a circle along my cheek.
“I’ve been such a bitch,” I admitted, leaning into the contact.
He huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, you have. It’s part of your charm.”
“Don’t go. Give me a chance to make it right.”
“I don’t regret a thing, and neither should you.”
“What am I going to do without you?” I shook my head, walking a step away from him before circling back around. Needing his touch.
“Ha. I knew you missed me. You didn’t fool me for a second. You’ll have more time to spend with your friends. To work on your important new career in real estate and boost your public image. Without me, you’ll be able to finally make a sale.”
A laugh like gunfire burst from my chest. “Right!”
“Surprise everyone, River. Be yourself,” he said, “and surprise them.”
I bent to rest my head on his chest. Listen to his heartbeat. “I don’t want you to go.”
“Stop worrying about me. I’ll be fine.”
“What about me?”
“With your spunk? How can you go wrong?”
“You know I hate that word.”
“Spunk? One of my all-time favorites.”
His arms came around me. Why had I been afraid to love this man? For all his faults, he was caring. Compassionate. A better person than I could ever be despite his public image.
His lips pressed against the top of my head before moving to my mouth. Finn lingered there as if memorizing my taste.
“See you later.”
There was nothing left for me to say. Nothing to make him grow roots when I knew he wanted to leave.
I was in a daze when I watched him walk to the bike. Numb when he strapped the bags to the back and secured the helmet on his head. Was this what he’d felt like? I wondered. When I threw him out of the house and told him I was done? Had his feelings become hollow and disoriented, like he wasn’t sure which way was up?
Finn shot me a final salute before starting the engine, the roar filling the air between us and masking the howl of my heart as it broke.
My composure trailed behind the line of smoke when he peeled out of the parking lot. I’d wanted the anger. I’d wanted the pleasure, the privilege of being right. It had taken me too long to realize the truth.
Now I’d lost the love of my life.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
I glanced up as I walked in the door of the real estate office. Garth waved a pile of papers in front of his face, grabbing my attention.
“Hey River, do you want a single-story cottage on Spruce Street? Comes with two acres and a peach tree. Needs some updating, but they only want one-fifty.”
“To buy or to sell?” I wanted to know.
“Well, I guess they go hand in hand. If you’re looking, this is a sweet deal.” His eyes sparkled in the low light. “If you want the commission, then you better start making up flyers. And put up an ad on Facebrook.”
“You mean Facebook?”
“Yes!”
Garth continued to wave the papers. He’d done his best to bring the office into the twenty-first century, integrating social media to sell more property. While he wholeheartedly embraced the changes, he was ill equipped to make them himself.
I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. My reading glasses nearly tipped off the end of my nose and I pushed them higher in a well-worn gesture. “Sure, Garth, I’ll take it.” A few steps brought me close enough to snatch the sheets of paper from his grip. I stared down at them through bleary eyes. “Market value?”
“Tax assessed at one-sixty-five. They aren’t fools. They know the place needs a special touch. Like I said, they’re motivated.”
“They’d have to be to want to list with me,” I murmured.
Garth sighed, chair squeaking when he leaned back. “River, people like you. You’re personable and charming and you know what you’re talking about. They’ve gotten over the incident at your first open house.”
Maybe they had. I hadn’t yet. Finn had been gone for two months. Two extremely long months where I’d spent my waking moments obsessing over the minutiae of what I’d done wrong. I spent my nights dreaming I was in his arms until I woke up remembering the smell of his soap.
What was wrong with me?
I’d found my place in town. Now people looked at me and I saw acceptance. It was hard-won and I valued every moment I spent where I wasn’t getting the look. The what’s wrong with you? look.
But somehow it wasn’t enough anymore. It had been, once upon a time. When my father had his accident and I wondered where I would be if not with him. If not at my tidy CPA firm enjoying my tidy—and single—life.
Crossroads: (noun) a point at which a vital decision looms ahead and must be made
I’d had a turn to make, a path to choose, and I’d stubbornly dug my heels into the mud instead. It hadn’t been nearly as scary moving from Tennessee to Heartwood. I’d known I had a support system waiting for me. No sense in forgetting the family I had here, the friends begging me to come home. Leaving hadn’t been fun, neither had arriving, but at least I’d made the decision.
I took the listing and went about my day.
When twilight touched the horizon, I remembered I was supposed to attend a party. One where I didn’t know the people but couldn’t find a good enough excuse to cancel. Sitting in my cousin’s pickup, eyes closed, I pondered how I’d gotten to this point.
There was comfort in predictability. With Weston gone and Finn out of the picture, I’d developed a routine. I walked daily from my little rental apartment above the County Corner General Store to the real estate office. Now, with summer looming, lamps lit the streets with golden light, and fading evening sunshine shone through tree limbs burgeoning with green growth. The crowds of tourists on Friday and Saturday nights provided entertainment and almost made up for the empty bed.
She thought sarcastically.
Still, I struggled against a tide of resentment.
“You should be happy,” Nell informed me. “This cookout is a once in a lifetime opportunity.” She kept her hands on the steering wheel and used her peripheral vision to assess me.
“Oh?” I shifted to face her. “Why is that?”
“Because you get to see me in a dress, of my own accord. It’s a miracle.” She paused, jaw clenching, and I knew she was uncomfortable.
Screw it. I could appreciate the time alone, without a man. Without my man.
“It’s going to be a lovely evening. With ribs, potato salad, and Leda’s famous spinach cupcakes,” Nell continued.
“I’ll pass, thanks. I’m in the mood for greasy comfort food.”
“Yup, they can accommodate.”
&nb
sp; We were on our way to a cookout at the McKenneys’. A way to celebrate the Missus and her new arrival due later in the year.
Nell told me I needed to get out and meet people.
June told me I was turning into a hermit and there might be an eligible bachelor among the members of the hired band. Someone to meet my standards.
My mother told me I hadn’t showered in a week. Had it already been seven days? Who can keep track of those things?
I hated how their words mirrored each other. God, if Finn were here, he would have laughed them all off. I could hear his response in my head.
Ros, you wear hobo like Gucci. Fucking sexy.
So maybe he wouldn’t know a designer brand. It was part of his charm. Two months since Finn left and I couldn’t think about anyone else.
Nell snatched my hands from my lap and gave them a slap. “Wake up!”
“Keep your focus on the road,” I demanded irritably. “I don’t feel like dying today.”
“We have a terrific day for the party. Don’t you agree? There’s nothing like the sweet scent of flowers on a warm afternoon.”
I drew my sweater closer. “It’s chilly.”
“No, that’s your heart.” I glanced over at her words and Nell sighed. “Sorry, below the belt,” she continued. “You’ve been upset and I hate it.”
“I’ll get over it. I always do. You don’t need to worry about me.”
“He isn’t coming back.”
“What?”
“Finn. I heard some people talking about the job he’s taken in Minneapolis.”
Minneapolis, eh? He’d never bothered to tell me. More of a kiss and split kind of deal where my calls and texts went unanswered. Not for lack of trying, as my bloated data plan could attest to. “It’s none of my business.”
“I’m passing along friendly gossip. My coworker said he had to fill out some kind of form with the state letting them know his new residence,” she said with forced cheer.
Far away from me and on the edge of the tundra. “I hope he’s happy.”
Nell shrugged. “I couldn’t say.”
We pulled into the gravel driveway of a rambling farmhouse. Giant whiskey barrels had been cut in half and stuffed full with moss and succulents. Planters to welcome guests and urge them in the right direction. Nell followed the signs and parked along the ridge of a field brimming with tall grass and brown patches of weeds.
“Have I told you how I didn’t want to come?” I put in nonchalantly.
“Neither did I, but I feel obligated. After all, I’m the one who told the woman she was pregnant.”
My brow furrowed. “I won’t know anyone.”
Nell reached across to pat my shoulder. “You have me. We’ll make the rounds. Then we can go and have a cry at my house.”
“I don’t want to have a cry.” I pouted.
“You never do, which is why you look puffy and distended all the time.”
Leave it to family to mince no words when it came to doling out insults. At least Nell tempered it with a kind smile.
“You have to be willing to let your heart spill to your feet. Give the man a call,” she had the pleasure of telling me before we exited the vehicle. All the wiser for her experiences. “Maybe you can’t be lovers. But you could be friends. Explain it to him.”
“Nell, I tried. He won’t return my calls. I don’t—”
“Just try to have fun tonight. Forget all the crap and enjoy. Deal with your issues in the morning when you’re fresh.”
“All right.” I shoved open the door, digging my hands into my pockets to warm them against the slight chill of the evening. “Anything so I don’t have to listen to you.”
The party went off without incident. I stayed close to the food table and watched the rest of the crowd as an outside observer. There was the happily married couple, aglow beneath their wooden torches and visions of parenthood. Their friends brought potluck along with hopes for the future to the table.
Then there was me and the mockery I’d made of life.
“You look like you could use one of these.”
I glanced over and saw June, arm outstretched and a Mason jar filled to the brim with red liquid held out for me.
Shooting her an appreciative grin, I took the drink and slugged half of it in a few gulps. “Please tell me this is spiked,” I said with an exhale.
She shrugged, and I wondered what she was thinking, dressed like Christie Brinkley’s suburban twin. “It’s not. This is a baby shower. The woman of the hour can’t drink. More than likely it’s plain sugar water with a little bit of red food coloring.”
Oh yeah. I hadn’t been paying attention. “It’s good to see a friendly face here.”
She nodded pleasantly. “And I’m glad you’re here. I’ve never been much for babies. They come with too much baggage.” She gestured around at the crowd. “Baggage and obligation.”
“Once upon a time, I would have agreed.”
“What, you don’t now?”
I chugged the rest of the drink and wiped the red ring from around my lips. “No. Now I feel depressed.”
“You know what always makes me feel better?” June said.
“What?”
“A vacation. You haven’t left the county limits in months.”
“I don’t need a vacation. I don’t have the money to go anywhere. I’m saving up to be house-poor.”
She shook a finger in my direction and shot me straight back to third grade with the movement. “I’ve heard taking the bus is a good option. Sure, you have to deal with all kinds of stops before you get where you want to go, but they run ’round the clock and are pretty affordable.”
“June,” I said slowly, “whatever you’re trying to say, come out with it.”
“There’s a bus to Minneapolis leaving from the station in Cedarville in two hours.”
My ears perked up at the mention. “You did your research.”
“I always like to be prepared.” She sounded pleased.
My brain whirled, digesting this information. “I’m not sure I have enough money on me to cover the cost,” I said to stall. I was shaking all over, and for a second I felt like I was going to throw up. My hands start to sweat.
June reached into the back pocket of her soccer-mom capris and withdrew a folded piece of paper. “Got you covered. Price was reasonable and you can pay me for it when you get back.”
I stared from the ticket to her, and down again. “Are you kidding me?”
“Not kidding. I’ve been planning this for weeks.”
“Why are you helping me?” My face burned.
“Because if I’m wrong, I’ll say I’m wrong, and I was wrong about Finn. You need to get off your bum and go after the man.”
“You weren’t wrong,” I muttered. “He left me.”
“I’m not in the habit of placing blame. Take the ticket and have a good time. Call me when you get there so I know you made it safe. It should take about eighteen hours, and there are lots of stops on the way, but you won’t have to drive yourself. It’s roundtrip, but the return date is open.”
Tears came unbidden before I was able to rein them in. “This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”
“I doubt that.” June handed the ticket over and folded my fingers around the paper. “Take it before I use it and go up there myself. I promise I won’t have nearly as much fun as you will. Although he does have amazing abs. Totally droolworthy.”
“You’re a life saver.” I took the ticket, leaning forward to kiss her cheek.
“Be safe and say hello for me!” June called out when I sprinted toward the truck.
***
She was right about the number of hours, and about the stops. I wasn’t the type of person to look for the faults in a gift. It wasn’t about the distance, or the toilet smell, or the lovely elderly couple taking up the majority of their seats and half of mine.
It was the thought. Each mile brought me closer to Finn. He was go
ing to be surprised.
This will teach him to ignore my calls.
June had taken the time to write his address on the back of the ticket, along with a list of directions to get me there. I had exactly fifty dollars on my person to pay for food and drink. I let none of it dampen my excitement. I should have paid Finn a visit ages ago.
This was a once in a lifetime opportunity to do something outside of my comfort zone. The travel didn’t bother me. It was the thought of what would come when I confronted him.
I couldn’t think of the right words to say. To express how sorry I was for letting him walk out of my life.
What kind of moron turns her nose up at a chance for happiness? My kind, apparently. Finn had given me plenty of opportunities to reconsider my stance on a relationship and on my opinion of him. I’d acted like a stubborn jackass each time.
Not for long, I admonished.
Time ticked by slower than I’d ever seen. Eventually the cesspool on wheels pulled into a station near the city center in Minneapolis.
I grabbed my sweater and lurched toward the exit, limbs numb from sitting too long. The jacket I wrapped around my waist. I hadn’t had time to pack.
Limp hair fell across my face and I pushed it back, irritable. The hot smell of diesel fuel mixed with exhaust greeted me the moment I walked down the three tiny steps onto cement. I followed the throng of people into the main station, searching for the information desk.
Half an hour later, I was in a taxi.
“Going to surprise your boyfriend, eh, Miss?” The cabbie glanced through the partition and shot me a tired smile, hardly visible through the bushy bristles of his overgrown mustache and mutton chop sideburns.
“Can you tell?”
“I know the look.” He eyed me in the rearview mirror. “This address isn’t in the nicest part of town, though.”
“It’s okay. I can handle myself,” I answered with confidence.
“Make sure the dude takes good care of you.”
I wanted to say how he’d tried. He’d offered me a place at his side and I threw it in his face. Sometimes our initial reactions to people can be horribly wrong. I’d misjudged Finn after he offered me pieces of himself in return.