But he did say something that gave me some hope. He said I appear to be as fertile as any woman could be, and he chastised me for having unprotected sex. He gave me a prescription for birth control. So now the ER doc in Grand Junction thinks I’m an anorexic nymphomaniac.
And I think he’s an unmitigated asshole.
He did say that when I decide I want to have children, I should talk to my doctor about having fertility treatments. I was still in shock, so I can’t remember for sure, but I think he said I could take pills for that. Really. He said it’s a lot less invasive than in vitro. Well, no shit. The only drawback would be that I could have a birth with multiples as opposed to one child (he mentioned the octomom gal. Jesus…talk about extreme. From infertility to a fucking litter—I don’t know how I’d like that). But instant family in one shot.
I asked him what the hell was up with my body. Why was I bleeding? Well, guess what, dumb ass? It’s your fucking PERIOD. Remember what that is? I hadn’t had one for so long, I’d forgotten what it’s like.
But then I asked him why the pregnancy test showed a false positive. I thought the professional ones were supposed to be pretty damn accurate. He told me in his doctorly manner that no test is ever one-hundred percent accurate, but he couldn’t give me a good explanation about why the clinic test would have shown positive. Mistakes can happen, he said. But I’ve thought of little else since I left the ER. How could the clinic fuck up the test? They seemed to be pretty on the ball. And then I remembered when I put my cup in their cabinet. Would it have been possible for the nurses to get my results mixed up with that other girl’s?
Or, more probable…would that other girl have considered intentionally switching our lids or something like that? It would explain why she asked me point blank what my result was. Why else would she care? It’s not like we’d bonded in the waiting room or anything…
But there would be no way I’d ever know for certain.
It didn’t really matter, though. I wasn’t pregnant, never had been, and wrong or not, it was something I had to accept.
Because I seemed doubtful, the doctor at the ER did another pregnancy test with me to show how what the hospital used worked. It triple-checked its own results, and all of them came out negative. Casey Williams was not pregnant.
So I came back here to my dinky little motel room where I’ve done nothing but cry and cry and cry. I’m still crying, but I’m better. And Jesus…I feel so stupid. I never had to leave Winchester in the first place, never had to leave him. What a fool I’ve been. And now I’m afraid to go back. But I have no choice. I’m almost out of money, and I doubt I’ll be able to afford the hospital bill. Just like when I left Barry, I’m going to have to tuck tail and run home to mommy and daddy.
I guess I’ll leave tomorrow and start heading back.
Or whenever.
Chapter Twenty-five
I drove into Winchester at daybreak. I hadn’t been able to sleep very long in my parked car, so I left Salida in the middle of the night. Instead of eating breakfast, I ate a microwaved burrito and bought a huge cup of coffee in Cañon City in the wee hours. When I arrived in Winchester, the sky was a beautiful pale orange with thin filmy, cottony clouds traced in red at the bottom.
I pulled up to mom and dad’s house, tail tucked firmly between my legs. Could I ever tell them why I’d really left? Or why I was coming home? I doubted it. I’d already sworn to myself that no one would ever know the real reason why I’d left, especially because I’d been so wrong.
I’d convinced myself that there were other reasons, but it all boiled down to fear, and I only knew half of what I was truly afraid of.
They were expecting me, so Dad walked out before I’d even gotten to the front door. He didn’t say a word, just hugged me tightly. “Come on in and have some coffee, honey.” Then, patting my back, he started to lead me inside. “Sure is good to have you back home.”
I knew what he meant. It didn’t matter that we’d been apart for longer periods of time when I’d lived in Denver. I knew what he must have been feeling when I left this time—the sense of finality I’d given my journey, because that was how I’d felt.
“Wait a second, dad.” He followed me back to the car, and I opened the hatch.
“Wow, Casey. You could open your own art gallery with all these.”
I grinned, feeling better already just being around my father, one person in my life who had always accepted me for me. No strings, no condemnations. And he understood that I just wanted to show off my work; we didn’t have to haul them in right now. “Come on.” I closed the hatch and walked with him up to the house.
“Casey!” My mom nearly screamed as we walked inside. Sobbing, she pulled me into her arms and held me so tightly, I felt like the prodigal child—no questions asked, no shooing me off, just pure loving emotions and joy to see me. It made me feel even guiltier for having left in the first place. “You’re not leaving again like that, are you?”
I felt a slight smile cross my face. “I don’t think so.”
We sat down at the table after I got a cup of coffee. “Did you find what you were looking for?”
I paused, considering. I’d barely addressed the question to myself, because I’d had the real reason I hadn’t shared—but what about the fringe benefits of being gone? “Yeah. Yeah, I did.” It was the truth. After almost twenty-five years, I knew who Casey was. And even though Casey had a lot of problems and myriad imperfections, I loved her. My time away had made me realize a few things—I no longer wanted to operate from a place of fear and, hard as it would be, I wanted to be truthful about things.
“Casey, forgive me for harping, but I’m your mother. You’re much too thin. I want—”
“I know, mom.” I wasn’t angry, and I understood why my mom was freaking out. I was way too thin. “A doctor told me the very same thing and wanted me to focus on gaining weight. He put me on an eating plan.”
Her eyes almost bulged, and I fought back laughter. “We haven’t eaten breakfast yet. What would you like to eat?”
“Anything.”
“Casey,” dad said, “we won’t be offended if you want to live on your own again. You’re a grown woman and can think for yourself. We’ll support you no matter what you decide.”
“Thanks, dad. I’ll probably have to stay with you guys for a while. Lewis said he was going to put the house up for sale and, much as I liked it, I’m in no position to buy.”
Mom was mixing pancake batter in a bowl. “You know you can stay here as long as you want.”
Nodding, dad got up to pour another cup of coffee. “Do you want to tell her or should I?”
My mind raced, remembering all the weird events that had happened while I’d been gone. Did it have to do with Barry—or Scott?
Mom deferred to dad. “Isabel called and said she hadn’t been able to reach you.” Probably because I’d never called her back. “She’s almost gone through everything you gave her and she wants more.”
“You saw what I have.”
“Exactly. And there’s a check in the—”
“I deposited it yesterday,” mom said, pouring batter into a hot skillet.
“Almost gone. Maybe I really could make a career of it.”
“I keep hearing about this tattoo art show at the Arts Center.”
Oh, yeah.
Why the fuck had I ever left?
* * *
After taking a long nap, unpacking the car, and then cleaning up, I drove to Bob’s Southern BBQ. I hadn’t been there since my last day of work.
Even though my intestines were twisted like a pretzel, I knew it had to be done. When I walked toward the front doors, I glanced around the parking lot. I didn’t see Scott’s black truck anywhere around the place, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. When I walked in the restaurant, Carla spied me from the main dining room and came over to give me a hug. “So good to see you, Casey. I’ll talk with you in a while.”
“I know you’r
e busy, but do you know who’s cooking today?”
“I think David is. Want me to go get him?”
I grinned. “That would be awesome. Thanks.”
She rushed into the back when someone behind me started talking. “Hi, stranger.”
I turned around. “Hey, Ed. How goes it?”
“Fine. We miss you around here, though.”
“I’ve missed you guys, too.”
“Are things better now, Casey?”
“Much. Thanks.”
“Well, good to see you. Don’t be a stranger.” It wasn’t lost on me that he didn’t ask if I wanted my old job back, but I wasn’t going to press the issue right now. In fact, I wasn’t sure I wanted it.
David came out to the lobby. “Casey!” He ran over and gave me a big bear hug, swinging me around. After our last encounter, I had expected a cooler reception, so relief washed over me like a waterfall—until he spoke again. “No offense, but you look awful.”
“What do you mean?”
“You look like you’ve been starving to death.”
For fuck’s sake. So I was thin. I was getting tired of hearing it. “Stress. Not eating right.”
“You all right?”
“Better. Thanks.” I cleared my throat. “Scott around?”
David’s eyes shifted, trying to hide…something. He avoided making contact with mine before answering. “At our place maybe?”
“David, what are you not telling me?”
“I think you need to talk to Scott.” He gave me a quick hug and started backing up toward the kitchen. “I’ve got to get back to work. Nice to see you, Casey. I missed you.”
“Yeah, you, too.” Try as I might, the enthusiasm was gone from my voice. I wasn’t looking forward to finding out whatever it was David was hiding.
I drove by their house, but Scott wasn’t home. I considered texting him but I needed to see his face. What was going on?
* * *
When I awoke the next morning, I still wasn’t sure what I should do about Scott. I joined mom and dad for coffee at the kitchen table, trying to act lighthearted.
“Does she buy the surreal stuff just because it’s surreal?” my dad asked.
The phone rang. Mom had the handset next to her on the table and answered it while I said, “I’d like to think so—and that’s why I’ve really been pushing the envelope.”
“That’s my Casey.”
Mom wore a heavy look of apology as she held out the phone. “Casey, it’s for you.”
In spite of her facial expression that should have been my clue, I didn’t ask. I practically lunged for the handset. “Hello?”
“So you’re finally back, huh?”
My heart sank to the floor. This was not the voice I’d been hoping to hear. “Barry, you do realize we’re not married anymore.”
“Casey, do you realize that not one day has gone by that I haven’t thought of you?”
“Oh, come on. That’s bullshit and you know it.” My parents were staring, so I stood up from the table and walked toward the back door, stepping outside. They didn’t need to hear whatever this conversation would turn out to be.
“Why did you run again, Casey? You were gone what? A month? I know you better than you think I do. What were you thinking? What were you doing? Your parents were worried sick.” I didn’t say a word, and the silence loomed heavily. I felt trapped again, just like I had a year ago, under the thumb of this domineering man who wielded control like it was his God-given right—and he was good at it, thanks to his powers of manipulation. I marveled even now at how I’d found the strength to get out. “Have it your way. Somehow you think being silent exonerates you.” Why had I frozen? Too many times that had been my response to him until, at last, I’d snap. “You still whoring around with that guy there?”
And that was enough to do it. “Barry, I want you to stop calling me. Stop calling my parents. Stop calling my cell phone. Stop obsessing over my life. We’re divorced. You signed the papers fair and square.” My hands started shaking and I felt the old fear like a long-lost friend gripping my bones—but I had to do this. “And if you don’t leave me alone, I’ll slap you with a restraining order so fast, you’ll wonder what fucking hit you.”
“Casey, you—”
“I mean it, Barry. Stop. Calling.” And, with fluttering hands, I hung up the phone. Then I took a deep breath of air already warmed by the late August sun and closed my eyes, willfully forcing the image of my ex out of my head. He wasn’t allowed in that space anymore, and so I had to make sure he got out.
In spite of my strength, tears were sliding down my cheeks. With another deep breath, I swiped them away and made myself smile. Barry was out of my life and he couldn’t harm me. I now had the upper hand, and why he continued to call as if each incident were a death throe, I didn’t know.
When I returned to the table, dad asked, “Is everything all right?”
I nodded. “Peachy.” And then I forced down a piece of toast, focusing my brain on my mission.
I had to find Scott today. Good or bad, I had to know what the hell was going on.
Chapter Twenty-six
As much as I’d promised the ER doc in Grand Junction that I’d be better about eating, the fact was I’d gotten worse. My nerves had been shot since returning to Winchester and, between Barry and Scott, I could barely force any food down. So when I tried to make sure I looked okay for my first encounter with Scott since I returned, I doubted anything I did helped. My loose clothing probably highlighted the weight loss instead of hiding it. Fortunately, the makeup almost covered the dark circles under my eyes while putting a little color on my pale face.
But I knew Scott could see right through me. Or could he?
When I drove by his house, I saw David’s car there, but Scott’s truck was gone. I considered stopping but decided not to. Even though David had hugged me the day before, I knew he was still mad at me for leaving in the first place.
So I drove by Bob’s, breathing a sigh of relief when I saw his black truck near the back of the parking lot. Anxiety quickly followed the relief as acid began boiling in my gut. No wonder I found it hard to swallow food. Sitting in my car, I took a few deep breaths as if to steel my nerves. Finally, though, I just needed to get my ass out of my car and do it.
When I walked in, I saw Ed sitting in the office, so I popped my head in. “Long time, no see, Casey.”
“Hey, Ed. I wondered if I could talk to Scott before you guys get busy.”
He frowned as he stood. “I thought maybe you were going to ask for your job back.”
Pursing my lips, I tried to assess if he would actually give it to me or relish telling me to fuck off. As much as I got the vibes that people here genuinely liked me, I also sensed that they also resented that I’d left and how I had.
I supposed I couldn’t blame them.
As Ed headed toward the kitchen, I said, “Please let him know I’ll be waiting in the parking lot.”
Leaning against my car, I tried to relish the feel of the warm sun on my skin and the fresh air traveling through my nostrils to my lungs, but I was too damn keyed up. At least out here I wouldn’t have to share whatever was going on with Scott with everyone else at the restaurant.
I found myself gritting my teeth. If I’d still been smoking, I would have been sucking a cigarette down hard by now. I realized I might need to consider chewing gum, something to keep my mouth busy and my nerves calmer. As it was, I started pacing, hoping to relieve some of the anxiety building in my bones.
Holy fuck. Not knowing was the hardest part. A few minutes passed and I started thinking maybe he wasn’t coming.
But then he did, and he looked like a group of palm trees I might spy across a vast desert. He looked just as handsome as the first time I’d seen him. But, as he got closer, the air around him felt like the first time I’d seen him, too—closed off, private, quiet. I wanted nothing more than to run to him and collapse in his arms, tell him I loved him,
apologize for leaving in the first place, but I was afraid. I knew everything was different now—the sensation was palpable. The problem was, after talking to David, I was afraid it was a lot different.
“Hi, Casey. Good to see you.” He hugged me and, at first, I felt a little relief until I realized the hug was sterile, platonic…cold. But what the hell had I expected? This wasn’t his doing. I’d put several weeks and hundreds of miles between us. Maybe we couldn’t just pick up like nothing had happened.
He didn’t hold me for long. “Scott…it’s really good to see you, too. I need to talk to you, but I don’t think this is the right time or place.”
“How about tomorrow sometime?”
I wanted to ask why tomorrow and not after work today—but I was afraid to hear the answer, so I just nodded.
“Casey, how much weight have you lost?”
“I don’t know—but the doctor put me on a diet.”
“Then he’s a fucking quack. You’ve lost way too much.”
“No, no…he put me on a diet to gain weight.”
“Oh.” I didn’t know what to say. I was feeling way too out of control and emotional. Scott’s voice grew quieter. “Are you sick? Do you have cancer or something?”
“No. Not even. Let’s just say I need to be more mindful about eating.” I could talk about eating, but my stomach lurched at the thought. “So…can we meet somewhere for breakfast or lunch?” I knew I didn’t want to invite him to my parents’ house, and I sensed his hesitation to meet at all. Maybe a neutral public place would take off some of the pressure.
“Sure. We could go to that truck stop on the east of town if you want.”
Urg. I’d never been there. Just the idea of dining at a truck stop made me think I’d never want to eat again. Considering it, though, I suspected I knew why Scott chose the place. It was unlikely anyone we knew would be there. But maybe I was wrong about the reason. “What time?”
“Ten?”
Dirty Boys: Bad Boy Rock Star Romance Box Set Page 111