“I don't know what happened between you guys. But I think you should be there.”
Miranda licked her lips as her mind raced. Okay, this had to be about Carl but she had no idea what it was. Pain pierced her heart at the thought. He'd given her space and time and everything she asked for.
And the weeks turned into months. And the semester ended and the next one began. And she was busier than ever. His last phone call had come just after Valentine's Day.
But she'd missed the call because she was working on one more of her very important papers.
He didn't leave a message.
And she didn't know what to say if she called him back.
So she didn't.
She just kept thinking that if she got far enough ahead, she'd be able to offer him something more than a part-time girlfriend. She was so close.
“Be there for what?” she asked.
“The funeral.”
“What?” she asked, feeling the room begin to close in around her. “What funeral?”
“Carl's dad.” Harrison shook his head and looked at the ceiling. “You're the smartest person I know, Ran, but you're completely clueless.”
Miranda ignored his statement because it was entirely true. Her mind scrambled for a solution. But her body was already ahead of her. She raced upstairs shouting, “Wait for me! Five minutes!”
Oh, God. Carl. Oh, God.
Why hadn't he called her?
Why would he call her? She told him she needed space. The last thing he would do was bother her with something of his.
Oh, God. Carl.
She found a plain black dress and threw it on, pulled her hair into a low ponytail, and rejoined Harrison.
“Is he okay?” she asked needlessly as they got into his car.
“The man he's hated his entire life up and died of a heart attack. It's ironic in a way. How do you think he is?”
“Oh, God. Carl,” she whispered.
The church parking lot was full enough that Harrison dropped her at the curb. It had been raining all day and the spring chill stung her skin as she raced up the steps and into the building. Getting to him the only thing on her mind.
She stopped short at the entrance to the sanctuary, hearing Carl's voice coming from the reception hall. She spun that direction and her heart broke into a thousand pieces.
Carl's shirt was half untucked from his suit pants. He had managed to get his jacket on but his tie dangled uselessly around his collar. Luke had him pulled down by the neck and was speaking into his ear.
Carl nodded and lifted his head. His eyes found hers and her body arrested. They stared at each other. She didn't know if she should go to him, if she had the right.
Luke pulled Carl her direction and they walked right past her. Luke cast her a disapproving glare. She turned to watch them.
Carl spun, staggering and tripping on his feet. He pointed a finger at her and called loudly, “How's school? I bet it's great.” The finger-point morphed into a thumbs up. “I'm awesome, by the way.” He faced Luke, who spoke to him low. “She's really smart. Smartest person ever. Gonna save the whole world. Well,” he scoffed loudly, “not my world. But whatever, am I right?” He held up a hand for a high-five from Luke who ignored it and muscled him into the sanctuary.
Miranda swallowed the burn in her throat and ducked her head as strangers' eyes peered at her. She didn't know what to expect, but this wasn't really it.
How do you reinsert yourself into a life that you had exited? No, begged to be let out of? Thoughts, regrets, consequences to her actions tumbled through her head so rapidly she got nauseous.
She had thought pushing him away would save him.
She thought she was doing the best thing for them.
She was wrong.
And now nothing could be done for it.
She slid into a seat in the very back, wishing like hell someone would have told her about this sooner. She was out of place. She didn't belong here. Or she did, but she'd ruined that. Because her heart was demanding she take her place beside Carl. Be there for him. But she hadn't been there, she had forfeited the right to be there.
The pastor only managed to get the greeting out before Carl broke away from Luke and stood at the podium. Clearly drunk and distraught, Miranda sat stunned, unsure what to do. Luke gave up, letting Carl have his moment.
“Well, dad, you finally got me in suit.” Carl held open the suit coat as if to demonstrate. “I know a bunch of people are going to get up here and talk about what a great guy you were. Your golfing buddies, your business partners. You know, the people you spent time with.” The alcohol fueled his surliness and Miranda winced at the thick sarcasm. “I don't want to have to stay for that. So I thought I'd say my piece now and then go celebrate this the Irish way.”
Carl looked around at the people's faces before he found hers and settled on it.
“Best laid plans of mice and men,” he quoted and Miranda felt like someone had kicked her in the gut. “Dad's plans never included me. I was a nuisance. A distraction. 'Carl, go to your room. Carl, go to college. Carl, go away.'” He laughed humorlessly. “Some things you finally get used to hearing, I guess.” He nodded once. “Message received, dad. You made sure no one wanted me.”
He staggered away from the podium and out the side door. Luke tried to stop him but Carl shoved him away. “Can I just have one minute of peace from you people?!”
Luke backed off with his hands up.
Miranda, tears streaming down her face, bolted from her seat and out the door beside her. She could cut him off around the pass if she hurried.
“Carl!” she shouted at his back as he blundered through the side exit of the building and out into the rain. She chased him, determined to get to him though she wasn't sure what to do when she finally did.
“Carl!” She yelled at his back again when she reached the parking lot. He paused and turned to face her. His expression was thunderous as he took solid steps back to her. She clenched her fists to keep herself from retreating. The rain pelted her exposed skin and soaked into her hair, though it did little to cool her humiliation and heartache.
“Why are you even here?” he asked, his slur gone though she could smell the whiskey on him.
“I didn't know,” she said, tasting the lame in her mouth. “You should have called me.”
He sneered at her and turned around again, stalking away.
“For you!” she called. “I'm here for you!”
Carl stopped, his shoulders rose with a deep breath and he faced her again.
“You know, it's good you're here. You should know this.”
He walked back to her until they were a foot apart. His bloodshot eyes roamed over her face like someone looking at an old photograph. New pain sliced through her as she felt the weight of missing how he used to look at her — with adoration.
“It didn't take,” he said flatly. “All the work you put into me, trying to make me a better person. It didn't last. I'm a loser just like dad predicted.”
“Don't—”
“Call myself a loser?” He smirked, shrugging. “It's just truth. Guess what? Dad hated me so much that he wrote me out of the will. So I guess school won't be getting finished after all. I'm a glorified roadie with a worthless education and a heart that stopped beating months ago. Sorry to disappoint you, Ran. Apparently you can't save everyone.”
“Carl — ”
He held up a hand to stop her. “Just... let me go. Let me let all of this go.”
He took two steps backwards, his eyes sweeping over her one last time, then he turned and walked away.
She watched him, limbs numb with guilt and grief. She knew she was crying, but it didn't matter.
Carl reached Blake who was waiting at a car. Blake stared hard at her for a second before getting in the car with Carl and driving away.
***
Two months later Miranda walked across two stages and received everything she'd been working for.
As family and friends gathered in her parents' home to celebrate, Miranda couldn't help but feel the loneliest she had ever felt. Her head lifted with every new arrival, fresh disappointment saturating her when it was never Carl.
This was supposed to be a big deal, and it was in a sense. But at what cost?
Slipping away from the house, she slid her arms into the supple leather sleeves of a jacket she had no intention of returning to its owner. A walk on the back of the property, fresh air, that's what she needed.
Harrison had made it back to town in time for her graduation. The band was thriving. That was good, she hoped they did well.
All of them.
She still believed that she and Carl could've made it work as soon as she was done with school. But she hadn't anticipated his father dying. No one had.
It changed him.
It changed everything.
If there was some way to get him back, some way to apologize that showed how much she regretted that night in October... she would do it. But she couldn't think of a way to make that happen. All of her education and all of her studying and it couldn't help her with this.
“That's a nice jacket.”
Her heart nearly stopped when she heard his voice. She turned towards it hopefully, half-expecting him to not be there. But he was.
Jeans, charcoal shirt, hands in pockets. Hair tousled in the wind, dark eyes wary and guarded.
“Thanks. It was a gift,” she said.
His lips twitched. “They must really like you.”
“I sure hope so,” she whispered.
His eyes searched her face and then drifted over her shoulder. “I, uh... I wanted to let you know that I don't blame you.” He swallowed, his eyes tangling with hers. “And that I'm proud of you. And I understand why you did what you did.”
She nodded, rolling her lips inward. “I see.”
“I'm sorry for what I said to you at the funeral,” he continued. “I was...” he rolled his eyes. “Well, I was drunk. But I was out of line.”
“I already forgave you.”
His stare grew heavy on hers and she touched her lips with her fingers, thinking maybe she'd find the right words just waiting there.
“I'm gonna stick with the band,” he said at last. “They've got some momentum and I feel like I should stick around. Someone has to keep them alive, right?”
Her mouth tugged up on one side in agreement.
“And your mom said you got a job with the state art agency.”
“Yeah,” she confirmed. “Entry level, but it's something.”
“So... we'll both be okay,” he said, but it sounded like a question.
Tears welled in her eyes and fell before she could stop them. “Remember when you used to love me?” she asked.
Carl took a step towards her and gently placed a hand on the side of her face. His thumb swept her tear away.
“There are three very important things I need to tell you, Miranda. I want you to listen close, okay?” His normal scowly face softened to a gentle she knew he only reserved for her. “One, I need to grow up a bit before I'll be comfortable trying to be what both of us need me to be. I don't know much more than that. But I know it. Two, I will love you forever. I've told you that more times than I can count. You're it for me. I have exactly one heart and I only ever plan on giving it to one person. Nothing is going to change that. And three, if you ever need me, for any reason, I will be right here. You call and I'll show up. No limits, no restrictions.”
He folded her into his arms and she pressed her cheek to his chest. Being back in his arms was an excruciatingly painful joy she thought she'd never experience again.
“What does this mean for us?” she asked.
“It means that we're gonna hold on and we'll see what happens next.”
***
If you enjoyed this book, or any of Heidi's other books, or perhaps you liked a photo of a hippo she posted once, or maybe you happened to notice she likes the same food as you do (this is easy because she loves all the food all the time), then please consider leaving a review expressing your enjoyment on any platform of your choosing.
**Heidi does not condone the defacing of public property, but she is otherwise flattered.
About the Author
Heidi Hutchinson was born in South Dakota and raised the exact right distance away from the Black Hills. She had an overactive imagination very early on, and wasted no time in getting most of her friends in trouble due to her unrealistic and completely ridiculous ideas. Seeing as she was so lazy and also afraid people would think she was bonkers, she didn't write down any of the story lines that played out in her daydreams.
During her high school years, she took pen to paper and filled more notebooks than she is proud of with angsty, depressing, self-deprecating poetry. This led to her writing down more things: notes, ideas, character bios, plot twists that had no plot yet to twist. After years of cleaning up her own scraps of imagination with nothing solid to hold on to, she sat down and wrote the story that had been in her head the longest. Fueled by coffee and her unwavering and perfectly normal devotion to Dave Grohl, she discovered a writer living inside of her.
She still lives in the Midwest, though not as close to the Black Hills as she would prefer, with her alarmingly handsome husband and their fearless child. They eat more pizza than God intended and she listens to her music the same way she lives: loudly.
Links to Author:
heidih.net
Facebook: http://facebook.com/heidirhutchinson
Blog: http://heidihutchinson.blogspot.com
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7275775.Heidi_Hutchinson
Twitter: http://twitter.com/ChosenbyFaith
Other titles by Heidi Hutchinson
Double Blind Study Series
Learn to Fly
In Your Honor
Tectonic
Deepest Blues
The Hope That Starts
Brand New Sky
Into the Night We Shine Page 13