The Do-Over

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The Do-Over Page 24

by Georgia Beers


  So many questions. So many regrets. So many memories. Easton sat there and stared off into the middle distance of her living room as her brain went around and around and around. It was a giant, discombobulated jumble, but there was one clear thought. Just one.

  I want to start over.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  The advantage of not showing up at the park mid-morning on a Saturday, Bella found, was that there seemed to be fewer people rather than more. This surprised her as she unloaded Ethel and Lucy from the car and walked them around the paved path to an emptier part of the field.

  “Do you think daddies bring their kids earlier so mommies can sleep in?” she asked her dogs, neither of which seemed to have an answer, though Lucy looked as though she was thinking about it. “Or maybe people come here in the morning so they can do other stuff the rest of the day?” Whatever the reason, Bella was glad for the sparse crowd. Fewer people to worry about giving her a look because her (big teddy bear) dogs were scary looking.

  She’d had trouble getting out of bed this morning. Then she’d had trouble getting herself moving. Motivated. Finding any ambition at all to go forward. Her fight—and subsequent breakup—with Easton had been three days ago, but she still felt as battered as if it had happened in the past twenty minutes.

  “Can you break up with somebody if you’re not even sure you’re dating them?” she asked aloud. Again, Lucy glanced up at her, wise brown eyes seemingly absorbing her words. “Sure feels like it.”

  She’d dragged herself through the morning, managing two cups of coffee but nothing to eat. She’d made it from her bed upstairs to her couch downstairs, and she’d killed another two hours lying there, staring at the television. She couldn’t recall what she’d watched. At all. No idea.

  Both Amy and Heather had texted her, probably from the same place, she’d thought with more than a hint of envy, but she hadn’t felt like talking. Again. She was wallowing, it was true, and she wanted to wallow in peace. For as long as she felt like it. With nobody to tell her she shouldn’t.

  The far end of the enormous open field was pretty much deserted, so Bella took a tennis ball from her pocket and hurled it as far as she could for Ethel, who went bounding after it with uncontained excitement. Lucy settled down onto the grass with a sigh and watched.

  The day was overcast, and for that, Bella was oddly grateful. Cheerful sunshine and inviting blue skies would’ve just made her feel worse. At least the dull grayish-white clouds matched how she was feeling. No rain. No thunder or lightning. She wasn’t angry. She didn’t want to lash out. She was simply…sad.

  Ethel could play ball all day long, and that was just fine with Bella. And Lucy, apparently, who’d fallen over on her side like she’d given up on life. Bella sat down on the grass next to her and placed a hand on her warm belly as Ethel trotted back toward her with the ball for the nine-hundredth time. Bella threw it and watched Ethel run. A little slower at this point but still magnificent, the power in her lean, muscular body obvious. She got the ball on the bounce, then turned to trot back to Bella.

  Except she trotted right past her.

  “Hey,” Bella said firmly as she turned around to see what had caught Ethel’s eye. Her voice stuck in her throat then as she saw Easton, all blond and beautiful, striding toward her as if she owned the park. She stopped to pet Ethel, who seemed thrilled to see her, the traitor. When the tennis ball was dropped at her feet, Easton picked it up and threw it for a surprising distance, sending Ethel off to chase it once more.

  “Hey.” When she reached Bella, she held out a hand like a traffic cop. “No, don’t get up. Just…hear me out. Please.” And just like that, she went from quietly confident to glaringly nervous. Her hands trembled, Bella noticed, and she put them together in front of her stomach, fiddling with her nails as if trying to keep her hands busy. She looked out in the distance, at the trees, at the sky, down at Lucy, who’d sat back up and was studying her with interest. Anywhere but at Bella. A shaky chuckle escaped her lips. “You know, I don’t have Emma tonight, so I have an entire day to get things done. Instead, I’ve been sitting in that parking lot for nearly four hours, just hoping you’d show up so I could talk to you. I had plenty of time to rehearse, and now that I’m on…” Her voice trailed off as she shrugged. “Everything I wanted to say just sounds…” She blew out a breath. “So lame.”

  Bella pulled her gaze away, watched as Ethel strolled slowly back to them.

  “I’m sorry, Bella.” Easton’s voice was small, filled with so many emotions, Bella couldn’t keep up. “I’m sorry for now, but mostly, I’m sorry for then.”

  She looked…defeated. That was the only word Bella could come up with to describe the sadness, the resignation on Easton’s gorgeous face. Her dark brows were turned down slightly over her nose, as if she’d been thinking hard about something for a long while now. Her full lips were pressed together in a thin line. Bella didn’t like seeing her this way, but her words from Wednesday were still fresh. “Was this, like…revenge for you? Getting to know me? Having dinner with me? Sleeping with me?” She understood what might have made Easton feel them. Say them. But they still sliced through her like a razor blade, despite Bella’s harboring a pretty significant secret. The fact that Easton thought she could do something so diabolical as to plot a sexual revenge fantasy and then carry it out…she had trouble swallowing that one.

  And then she heard Amy’s voice. “I think you should just let this go. It’s caused you both a lot of pain, you know? Let it all go. Move on.”

  Easton looked up at the sky, scratched the back of her head, and gave a rueful smile. “Yeah, this isn’t coming out like I imagined it would, so just let me say it again: I’m really sorry, Bella. I never meant to hurt you. Then or now.”

  “I’m sorry, too,” Bella said. “I should’ve been up front from the beginning. It was unfair of me.”

  Easton held her gaze for what felt like a long time, and Bella felt like she was searching for something. Then she gave one nod. “It’s okay.”

  There was so much more to say and nothing more to say. Bella had never felt both things so acutely at the same time before, so she continued to simply look at Easton, her mouth staying shut, her voice box keeping silent. Her swallow was audible.

  Easton cleared her throat. “Thanks for listening,” she said, barely a whisper. She laid her hand on Ethel’s head, then turned and strode across the field back toward the parking lot. Bella watched her the entire time. She didn’t want to, but she couldn’t manage to pull her eyes away. Something tugged at her heart. Something important and she clenched her jaw as Easton got into her car and drove out of the parking lot. Bella had the strangest feeling that Easton had just driven off with a small part of her.

  And she needed to get it back.

  ***

  Why did she feel like this?

  Easton had to stop crying. This was ridiculous. She hadn’t known Bella that long. A few dates. One night on the couch. This couch. Where she lay now, used tissues strewn across the coffee table, the Food Network on the television as it was the only channel she could count on to not have anything remotely resembling a love story.

  She’d screwed it up in the park. Somehow. She’d rehearsed it over and over, and it always sounded so genuine and sincere—because it was!—but Bella hadn’t reacted the way Easton had hoped. She’d apologized, yes. She seemed to accept Easton’s apology, yes. But that was the extent of it.

  “What, did you think she was going to jump up and throw herself into your arms, Evans? God, you’re pathetic.”

  Yes, she’d also taken to talking to herself again. A lot. This was what it had come to.

  “You blew it. You had something that could’ve been great, but you blew it because you unloaded on her. You gave her no chance to explain anything. You let your anger take over…” She stopped talking, wishing she could go back to that moment in Bella’s office, wishing she’d handled it differently. She had every right to be angry, but
she should’ve listened more instead of just beating Bella up over it.

  Which was exactly the kind of behavior high school Bella—Izzy—knew from her.

  Easton’s eyes welled up again. Thank God Emma wasn’t there tonight. She was a mess, and the last thing she wanted to do was explain her state of mind to a seven-year-old.

  But she needed to talk to someone. She knew that beyond a shadow of a doubt now. It was something she’d toyed with since Olivia had happened, but she’d never pulled the trigger, always had some reason to delay it another day, another week, another month, until another year went by. The irony was not lost on her that Bella was a therapist.

  Easton snorted, which morphed into a quiet sob, and she swore as she reached to snag another tissue from the box just as the doorbell rang.

  She sat up quickly, confused. It was seven in the evening, a light rain was falling, and she was expecting nobody. She grabbed her phone and gave it a quick glance in case she’d missed a call or a text while she’d been crying like a five-year-old.

  Nothing.

  “Shit,” she muttered as she stood.

  Easton blew her nose, took a deep breath, and hoped she looked halfway presentable as she crossed the living room to the front door, which she pulled open.

  “Hi,” Bella said, standing on the front stoop looking damp, a little windblown, and absolutely beautiful. Her dark hair was tousled and wavy, her hazel eyes were wide and hopeful. In her hands were a bouquet of purple daisies, a paper bag, and a bottle of wine.

  Easton blinked at her. Dabbed the tissue under her eyes. Blinked some more.

  Bella didn’t wait for an invitation. She stepped through the door and set the wine and bag down on the table near the coat closet. “Listen,” she said, standing tall—or as tall as somebody as petite as Bella could. “I saw you at the park earlier and—this is going to sound weird—but I think we know each other. In fact, I think we went to school together. Are you from around here?”

  Easton blinked again, felt suddenly like she was having trouble keeping up. She took a moment to stare into those eyes. Eyes that were now saying so very much, showing so very much: hope, certainty, happiness, and more. Way more. Easton cleared her throat as she began to understand what was happening. “Is this…is this a do-over?” she asked quietly.

  One corner of Bella’s mouth lifted as she leaned forward and said, her tone conspiratorial, “I thought we could use one.” Then she stood back up and asked again, “So, are you from around here or…?”

  Easton shook her head with a hesitant smile. “No. A town a few hours east. Framerton.”

  “No way!” Bella’s face lit up with excitement. “Me too!” She stuck out a hand. “Bella Hunt. It’s nice to meet you.”

  Easton slowly put her hand in Bella’s and felt the warmth radiate around her as Bella held on. “Easton. Evans.”

  Bella gasped loudly, brought her fingers to her lips in a lovely display of overacting. “Easton Evans, you say? Wow, this is strange, but…I don’t think you were my favorite in school.”

  “No?” Easton played along, beyond interested to see where this was going.

  “Oh, no. See, I had a major, major crush on you.” Bella scooped up the flowers, paper bag—which Easton now realized smelled delicious—and bottle of wine and headed into the kitchen as she talked. “I was dealing with my sexuality, which I didn’t know at the time, of course, because hello? Seventeen years old.”

  Easton followed her, let her talk. Once in the kitchen, Bella held up the bottle and Easton dutifully retrieved a corkscrew and two glasses.

  “Every time I saw you, I got all weird and tingly inside.” Bella shook her head as she chuckled and went to work with the corkscrew. “I was pathetic. No idea how to deal with what was going on in my head. I think I would have loved to talk to you.” The cork popped, and she poured the deep crimson wine. “I also think that would’ve been a nightmare for both of us, so it’s probably better that I didn’t. Plus, you were always with that other girl who loved to make other people’s lives as miserable as possible.”

  “Tara Carlson,” Easton supplied.

  Bella tipped her glass toward Easton and wrinkled her nose. “Her.” She handed Easton a glass. “I wonder why she was so unhappy.” That line was said in a quieter, more pensive tone, and Easton was amused that as adults, she and Bella had wondered the same thing about Tara. Then Bella seemed to shake herself as she looked back up.

  “Can I add to this?” Easton asked quietly. She had the sudden urge to unload, but this time, in a good way. Maybe “unburden” was a better word choice. When Bella raised her eyebrows, Easton continued. “I want to be completely honest with you.” She paused. Swallowed. “It’s important to me.”

  Bella gave one nod.

  Easton pulled out a chair, feeling the sudden need to sit during this conversation. She took a large sip of her wine, hoping to gain some courage from it. Bella followed suit with the sitting and once they were both settled, Easton set her glass down, folded her hands on the table, and held eye contact with Bella, those hazel eyes still full of so many things. They gave Easton strength. She took a deep breath.

  “I’m so sorry, but I didn’t remember you.” She swallowed again, took another sip of her wine to help move things in her throat, to help the words come out. “I hate saying that, but it’s true. And that’s because I was going through the same thing you were.”

  Bella’s brow furrowed in confusion.

  “I was struggling as well. And I also had a crush. On a girl.”

  “You did?” Bella’s voice was soft, tinged with surprise.

  Easton nodded. “I did. Do you remember Kristin Harrington?”

  Bella squinted in thought. “Redhead? Super nice to everybody?”

  “That’s her.”

  “You were crushing on her? But you were with Connor.”

  “I was. So, you can see my dilemma.” A bitter chuckle followed.

  “Wow. I had no idea. You were just so…” Bella met her eyes. “Put together. Perfect. You were perfect to me. I couldn’t get you out of my head.”

  A scoff escaped Easton’s lips. “I’m sure my perfection ended up pretty tainted.”

  Bella tipped her head to one side, then the other. “Yeah…”

  Easton felt a gentle laugh bubble up. “Yeah.”

  “Did you ever tell Kristin? Or anybody?”

  “That I thought I liked girls? Hell, no. I come from a family of successful medical professionals. We were well-known in the community. My mother, in addition to being a surgeon, was on every committee known to man. There was a path I was supposed to follow, just as my siblings did. Get straight As. Go to medical school. Marry a man with ambition who comes from a successful family. Have children. Be a pillar of the community. Nowhere was there anything about falling for a girl.” She brought her gaze to Bella’s, saw the wheels turning, and pointed at her. “Hey. Stop analyzing me, Ms. Therapist.” She smiled to make sure there was no sting in her words.

  Bella blinked. “Sorry. Occupational hazard.”

  “It’s okay.”

  They sat quietly, and while Easton felt like she was waiting for something she couldn’t identify, it was still companionable. Comfortable. In that moment, there was no place else she wanted to be than sitting in a room with Bella.

  “I have an idea. Kind of.” Bella’s expression was uncertain, but hopeful.

  “Okay. Tell me your kind of idea.”

  “I’d like to try to leave our past behind us. I mean, it’s there, of course. It always will be. But we were kids.”

  “That’s what Connor said,” Easton told her with a sad smile.

  “You told him about us?” Bella didn’t seem angry or freaked out. Just mildly surprised.

  “I did. I needed to know what he remembered, if he felt as horrible as I did.”

  “And?”

  “He knew we’d been assholes a lot of the time. He felt pretty awful about it. But he also reminded me that we w
ere kids, still figuring ourselves out, and that we’re different people now. Not an excuse. Just a fact.”

  “That’s true.” Bella studied her hands, then looked up at Easton. “I’ll make a deal with you.”

  “Okay.” Easton drew the word out, not knowing what to expect.

  “I’ll let go of my blame if you let go of your guilt.”

  Easton could almost feel the weight of the words, the importance of the steady eye contact Bella gave her now. “I’m so sorry, Bella,” Easton whispered, her eyes welling up. “I’m so sorry I made things hard for you. Then and now.”

  Bella’s watery smile was everything in that moment as she reached across the table and grasped Easton’s hand. “I know you are. And I forgive you. Okay? I forgive you.”

  A small almost-sob pushed itself from Easton as she felt her heart expand, fill with warmth. They stayed like that for a long time, just holding hands across the kitchen table, enjoying the silence of being together, the silence of forgiveness, of a possible future and what might come.

  After a long while, Easton cleared her throat and finally spoke. “What’s in the bag?” she asked as her gaze landed on the paper sack Bella had brought with her.

  Bella’s eyes widened as if she’d completely forgotten about it. “Oh, my God. Dinner. It’s dinner. Chinese. Probably cold now.”

  “Good thing I have this newfangled contraption called a microwave. It heats up food in a matter of minutes! Shall I demonstrate how it works?”

  Easton was pretty sure Bella’s smile lit up the entire room. “Yes, please.”

  “One condition.”

  Bella’s dark brows raised. “What’s that?”

  “We eat it upstairs. In my bed. How does that sound?” Easton wanted nothing more than to spend time with Bella, to be close to her.

 

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