THAT NIGHT, when she arrived home from work, she passed her mother’s office. She was at her desk, her eyes drowsy as she sat back in her chair with her phone to her ear.
“Hm-mm,” she said about eight times before looking up to see Naomi in the doorway. When she motioned for her to come in, Naomi walked across the room and sank into the comfy leather armchair across from the desk. She could tell her mother didn’t want to be on the phone. It was eight-thirty and Naomi doubted she had eaten dinner yet.
“No, like I said, we can settle all of that tomorrow at the office,” her mother said into the phone. “Yes, yes, goodbye.” She set her phone on the desk and turned to Naomi. “So, how was the kitchen?”
Naomi smiled. “Dirty, as usual.”
“And you cleaned it?”
“Yep.”
“And you ... like that?”
“Yep.”
A deep sigh. “Well, Naomi, you keep surprising me, I’ll give you that. Are you ready for a counselor yet?”
“I guess so.” She folded her arms, sure her tone of voice made it clear she wanted nothing to do with counselors anymore, but she wasn’t going to argue. She was so tired of arguing.
Her mother cradled her forehead in her hands as she stared at her desk. She began massaging her temples with her fingers. “I’ve been thinking about a lot of things,” she said, her words sagging in their middles like wet rags.
“You’re always thinking about a lot of things, Mom. I’m sure I give you plenty to think about.”
Her mother didn’t look up. She kept moving her fingers in circles against her temples. Slow. Calm. “Sure, you do—you’re my daughter, and I will always worry about you. But I’ve been thinking about Jesse and if you’ll ever see him again. I’m hoping you’ll—”
“I already told you I’ll never see him again,” Naomi interrupted. She felt her pulse quicken as she realized how important it was to tell her mother the truth. Finn had told his mother the truth. He wasn’t living a lie anymore, and she couldn’t either, no matter what it would bring on in her life. She was safe now. She had chosen an honest life and she had to keep it that way.
Her mother looked up. “You say that as if you mean it. You’re not just saying it to make me feel better?”
Nodding, Naomi shifted in the chair. The leather groaned beneath her weight. “I did go to Italy with him, but I didn’t know he’d broken his parole. Some of my friends tried to make me see something was wrong, but I refused to listen. I left with him, and then I found out the truth when I was there.” She looked away. “You were right, Mom—about everything. You never told me I couldn’t be with Jesse, but that’s what I thought you were telling me. You knew things could end up like they did. You knew I was doing everything at the wrong time. I had to face myself there and make my own decisions, alone. I decided to leave him. Forever.”
Her mother leaned across the desk, her eyes wide. She looked surprised but sad, and it broke Naomi’s heart to think about what she had put her through in the past few years. “I can’t be what you want me to be, Mom,” she said, squeezing her hands into fists. “I can’t go to Harvard. I can’t marry the perfect man. I can’t be obsessed with stocks and money. Right now, all I want is to find myself and figure out what to do with the rest of my life.”
Her mother shook her head and wiped away a tear falling down her cheek. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.”
“Then why have you kept pushing me everywhere else?”
“I haven’t pushed you.”
Naomi raised her eyebrows and watched her mother’s expression melt into horror.
“I mean ... that’s what I’ve done, isn’t it?”
Naomi nodded. “The counselors. Harvard. You told me to choose for myself, but you cleared only certain paths for me. Let me make my own decisions, Mom. Please. Even if it means I’m cleaning dirty kitchens.”
“Your own decisions ...,” her mother’s voice faded as she scraped her fingernail over a spot on the desk. “I’ve turned into my mother,” she muttered. “I’m exactly what I tried to avoid.”
Naomi leaned forward. “What do you mean?”
Looking up, her mother kept scraping at the spot. “She was controlling. She wanted to know everything about my life, right down to what nail polish I was putting on my toes. She drove me away, Naomi. I wanted to avoid that. I wanted to keep everything open for you, but somewhere along the way I swung from one extreme to another.” She moved her fingernail from the spot as her eyes grew huge. “I’m so sorry.”
Naomi opened her mouth to reply. She wanted to say it was okay. She wanted to say she was sorry too, but as she searched for the right words, her mother’s cell phone started ringing on the desk. She looked down at it, sliding her hand forward until she picked it up and turned off the sound. She turned to Naomi, a calm expression replacing the horror on her face.
“I have some things to show you,” she said after a deep breath. “It’s a box I saved for when you were ready.”
“A box?” Naomi’s fists started to loosen.
“Yes, it’s filled with newspaper clippings and recorded television segments about your kidnapping. There are some journal entries in there too. I put it all in one place for when you were ready to hear my side of the story from when you were captive.”
Shocked, Naomi felt herself stiffen. She wasn’t sure she was ready for such a thing, but then she remembered Jesse making her read her journal and how it had opened a window inside herself so she could see things more clearly. Maybe this would help her connect to her mother better.
Walking around the desk, her mother held out her hand. “You think you can let me share all of that with you?”
Naomi remembered a crumpled paper cup. She remembered Stacy’s couch, curling her knees to her chest as she let her mind enter the bedroom over and over. She remembered the train tracks and the sound of Finn breathing next to her. She remembered a sapphire Italian sky as wide open as a new day. Reaching up, she took her mother’s hand.
XXVII
Three months later — April
“SO, YOU FOUND ALMOND CAKE THIS FAR from Java, huh?”
Naomi looked up from her sketchpad, her mouth falling open as she realized Finn was standing next to her table.
“Finn!” she squeaked, remembering her chat with him a week ago on her computer. “You were at Harvard. You were—”
“I know, but I’m here now.” His smile was mysterious.
“It’s an hour before closing time. How did you know I’d be on my break?”
The café was empty and the bright lights made it seem even emptier. Alyssa, who had moved to a waitressing position a month earlier, gave Finn a lusty look as she passed by, carrying a tray of empty glasses. Great. It was like Carly all over again.
Finn ignored her as a grin spread across his face. For some reason, Naomi wanted to stand up and wipe it off. He looked a little too pleased with himself for surprising her. Leaning down, he peered at her sketch.
“No more dragons?” he asked, brushing over her last question.
She squeezed her pencil. “I don’t draw dragons anymore.”
“Just women walking into ... oh, excuse me ... out of the ocean.” His grin settled into a warm smile as he looked her in the eyes. He was holding the edge of the table, leaning his face dangerously close to hers, especially if he was still dating Carly. She inched away from him. “Looks like you found her happy ending after all,” he said, standing tall again.
Relaxing, Naomi set down her pencil and motioned for him to sit across from her. When he was settled, she picked up her fork and cut off a piece of almond cake. “It’s not as good as Java’s,” she said, sliding the fork into her mouth, “but you’re welcome to share it with me if you’ll tell me what the heck you’re doing here.” She chewed slowly, waiting.
Finn unwrapped a set of silverware from a napkin and pulled out a fork. “Well, it’s a long story,” he began in a once-upon-a-time tone of voice. He cut off his o
wn piece of cake. “It all started when I met a girl in a café. She was an artist, but she seemed unsure of herself, like me. I liked that, so I kept trying to break down her walls so we could be friends. After a while, when I realized I couldn’t break down her walls, I tried climbing over them. It worked, kind of. We got to be friends. I liked her, but then ....” He slid the bite of cake into his mouth and chewed.
“I should throw this pencil at your head,” Naomi laughed, wishing he would finish the story already.
“Good cake,” he said through his chewing. “Did you make it?”
She shrugged. “No, but I was the one who suggested they put it on the menu. It’s one of their best sellers now. I think in a few months I might apply to move up in the kitchen.”
Swallowing, Finn dug his fork into the cake for another bite. “Well, you have to start somewhere.”
“Listen, Finn, I’m dying to know what you’re doing here. Did you drive? Fly? How did you know when I would be here?”
“I flew, yeah. You already told me where you working, so I called your mom to get your schedule. Once I knew when you had a break, I thought it might be fun to surprise you.”
“Why?”
He set down his fork, a smile playing on his lips. “May I finish my story?”
“Of course.”
“Then,” he continued in the same tone as before, “the girl said someone else wanted to help her over her walls and carry her to a place very far away. I was heartbroken, to say the least, but she’d warned me from the beginning she might leave, so I couldn’t complain. I wallowed. It was pathetic. I decided I should try to get over the girl, so I attached myself to another one. I ended up liking her, kind of, but then you—that first girl I could never forget—came back. I was stuck and sad and obligated to someone else. So I waited and decided to tell the truth and break it off with the second girl, no matter what might happen after that. And here I am.”
He looked into Naomi’s eyes, making her heart thump so hard she looked down at her chest to make sure she was still in one piece.
“I didn’t know that’s why you hooked up with Carly,” she said, breathless. “I thought you wanted to be with her. I thought even if I gave up Jesse you wouldn’t want to be with me. I was a wreck. Who wants a wreck for a girlfriend?”
“Did you forget about that kiss on the train tracks? Did you forget how much I wanted you before?”
“No, I just thought—”
“You thought you weren’t good enough for anyone just the way you are, and you’re wrong. I don’t know why you won’t admit you went to Italy with Jesse, but I know you did. I know you went over there and realized you were running away from yourself.”
She took a deep breath and rolled her pencil across her sketchpad. Finn could open her up like a book, but she didn’t mind. “You’re right,” she said, looking up. “I did leave with him and it was wonderful and terrible at the same time.”
Silence stretched between them. It seemed as wide as the Atlantic.
“When are you off work?” Finn asked. He seemed in no hurry to learn everything that had happened, and that was exactly why she liked him so much.
She looked at a clock on the far wall. “Forty-five minutes. My break is almost over, so I need to go.”
Finn stood. “I’ll wait outside ... if that’s okay?”
“Yes,” she said, her heart still thumping, “that would be great.”
HE WAS outside, just as he said he would be. She walked with him to her mother’s Mercedes and unlocked the doors. Once Finn was inside, she started the car and drove out to the main road. “So, where are you staying? I can drop you off if you want. We can see each other tomorrow, right?” When he didn’t answer, she looked over to see him blushing. Blushing. Her mouth dropped open. “You’re staying at my parents’ house, aren’t you?”
He nodded. “Your mom picked me up at the airport, and then after I dropped my stuff off at the house and picked a room, she drove me to the café. She said she didn’t want me to have to pay for cabs.”
“I’m going to kill her.”
He laughed as he leaned forward to fiddle with the radio. He found a station playing similar music to what they had danced to in the club the night of her birthday. “Don’t blame your parents,” he said, chuckling. “When I told them I would only be here tonight and tomorrow, they offered to let me stay. Your house has five guest bedrooms.” He looked at her and shook his head. “Five. You can hardly blame your parents for offering.”
Naomi squeezed the steering wheel and glanced at the tattoo on Finn’s arm. It was as wicked looking as she remembered, with jagged swirls and dips surrounding it. “My mom didn’t have a problem with your, uh—” She pointed to the tattoo.
“She didn’t seem to mind. She asked me a lot of questions when I called her before coming. I told her about what happened between us and how I wanted to fly out here to see if you’d be interested in getting back together.”
Naomi stopped at a red light. “If I say I’m interested, will you want me to move back to Harvard?” She looked at Finn, studying his strong jawline and the way his chin jutted out a little when he was thinking.
“We could try to keep up a relationship long-distance if you want to stay here. I can’t leave Harvard for a while.”
The light turned green and it took Naomi a few seconds too long to move forward. The car behind her started honking. Finn laughed.
“Shut up,” she teased, smiling. “I know you can’t leave Harvard. I wouldn’t ask you to do that.”
“And I wouldn’t ask you to leave your parents and your job if you don’t want to.”
She drove carefully—too carefully. Cars started passing her until she entered the coastal highway and rolled down her window. Cool air filled the car, whipping through her and Finn’s hair. The longer she drove in silence, the more she appreciated Finn’s patience with her. He rolled down his window too and rested his arm on the door. He looked out at the ocean glittering in the moonlight, the salty smell of it thick in the air.
“I love it here,” she said, unsure if Finn could hear her over the wind.
“I like it too,” he answered. “I have some cousins north of here, on my mom’s side.”
“Oh, yeah, you mentioned that before.”
“I won’t be at Harvard forever.”
“True.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him turn to look at her. It was a good feeling to know she didn’t have to rely on him for her own emotional stability—a new feeling that made her feel free for the first time. She would be fine without him, but she also knew how much better her life could be with him.
“I want to be with you, Finn,” she said as he watched her. “I can’t decide right now if I’ll go or stay, but I want to be with you, whatever I choose.”
“Maybe you could get a job at Java,” he suggested with a teasing look in his eye.
“Yeah, maybe. Or maybe I could open my own café,” she laughed. “Except I’d have to figure out how to get Eric’s scrambled eggs just right.”
Finn tapped his fingers on the door. “Sharp cheddar,” he said, looking out at the ocean. “Have you tried that?”
“Cheese?” Her breath stopped in her throat for a moment. “You mean in the eggs?”
“Yeah, shredded. You dump it into the eggs when you scramble them up. Gives them a tangy flavor.”
That was what she had been missing. “How do you know that?”
“Experimenting. I’ve been cooking a lot since you were gone. I got tired of ramen noodles and you weren’t around to feed me anymore.”
She made an exaggerated eye-roll. “Always goes back to food, huh?”
“Well, shouldn’t it?”
“It’s definitely at the top of my love list.” She rounded a bend in the road. There was a pull-off coming up, and when she spotted it, she eased the car off the road and parked. Switching off the engine, she stared out the windshield at the ocean, the sound of the waves a whoosh
ing heartbeat in the otherwise quiet night.
“What’s this about?” Finn asked, turning in his seat to face her.
She undid her seatbelt and got out of the car. “There’s a trail down to the beach,” she said, breathing in the cool, salty air. She remembered all those walks on the beach with Brad, those stupid bonfire parties where everyone would sit around and get drunk. She remembered Jesse reading to her from The Great Gatsby, the way her last goodbye to him was nothing more than a glance as she climbed into the cab. She remembered the train tracks and how it would always be difficult to decide which direction to go when there were so many ‘ifs’ and ‘maybes’ hanging in the air. But she had the freedom to choose. She knew now that her past had to become a part of her.
When Finn came around to her side of the car, she was already taking off her shoes. “I thought we were going back to your house,” he said, a smile playing on his lips.
She moved closer to him, her bare feet crunching over asphalt and sand. She took his hand into hers and squeezed. “I changed my mind.”
His playful smile widened. “Then the beach sounds great.”
They started down the trails. Once on the beach, they approached wet sand and Finn bent down to pull off his tennis shoes. Tipping one upside down, he laughed as a waterfall of sand fell out. He pulled off his other shoe, rolled his jeans up around his ankles, and left both shoes in the sand as he straightened to face Naomi. “You’re pretty in the moonlight.”
She blushed, but knew he wouldn’t be able to see it. “Thanks.”
“Do you want to keep walking?”
“Yeah.”
He took her hand and they continued up the beach, inching their way closer to the waves.
“When I was a kid,” Naomi said as sand squished between her toes, “I used to jump up and down on the wet sand. It always felt like the top layer was floating over something solid underneath. You know how it sometimes jiggles when you walk on it? Then, if I stood still long enough, I’d start to sink until I couldn’t see my feet anymore. I always thought if I stood still long enough, Id sink to China.”
Pieces (The Breakaway #2) Page 22