by Elicia Hyder
I sank onto a couch cushion and plucked a tissue from the box on the coffee table. I wiped my eyes and blew my nose with a loud honk. Dad was smiling gently when I looked at him again. “Sorry,” I said. “I have a head injury. I think it’s messing with my emotions.”
“Why do you have a head injury?” He leaned forward, balancing his elbows on his knees.
“I started playing roller derby a couple of months ago.” I watched as his face shifted from worried to perplexed.
“Roller derby?”
I nodded.
“On roller skates?”
“Yep.”
He stroked his goatee. “Huh. Well, that explains the head, I guess.”
“Sort of. The team captain knocked me out yesterday when she found out I was dating her ex,” I said.
His brow rumpled even more. “Your brother said you weren’t seeing anyone.”
“I am now.” Or I was, at least. “It’s really new. Anyway, I didn’t know he used to date her. Then she saw us together in those pictures from Jake Barrett’s party.” I pointed at my swollen eye. “She expressed her frustration at practice yesterday.”
“And you had it checked out by a doctor?”
“Yeah. I’ll be OK.”
He leaned his elbow on the back of the couch and cradled his head in his palm. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
My nose scrunched up. “I didn’t tell anybody. I didn’t know if I’d actually make the team. It’s really hard. And I knew you’d worry.”
He gestured to my face. “And I’d obviously be right to worry. You look like you’ve been in a car accident.”
I thought for a second. “I actually was in a car accident. Did I tell you about that?”
His mouth dropped open. “What?”
“Oops.”
With a heavy sigh, my father ran his hand down his face. “Lucy, what’s happened to us?”
My head was starting to throb again. “I don’t know, Dad.”
“Sure you do.” He put his hand on mine. “Talk to me. I can’t fix it if I don’t know what’s broken.”
For a moment, I stared at the couch cushion. A squiggly thread was poking out of the seam. I pulled it, and the fabric splayed open leaving a gaping hole to the fluffy stuffing inside. I frowned.
“Lucy?”
I sighed. “Do you really have to ask?”
“Yes, I really do.”
I sank back into the cushions and hugged a pillow to my chest. “Four months, Dad.”
His eyes crinkled. “I’m afraid I’m going to need a little more information.”
“Mom was only gone for four months, and suddenly, you were over it and on to another family that I don’t even know how to be a part of.”
“Lucy, you haven’t even tried to be part of it.”
I tossed my hands up. “I don’t want to. I’m not ready, and I don’t understand how you are.”
Dad’s gaze fell to the carpet.
“I miss Mom, and we can’t even talk about her anymore.”
When Dad looked up, his eyes were glassy. “I miss her too, Lucy. Every single day. You don’t move on from what your mother and I had. She was mine, and now she’s gone. And it’s hard for me to talk about her because I miss her so much.” He took a deep breath. “Katherine makes that easier for me. How hard is that to understand?”
It wasn’t hard to understand in my head, but wrapping my heart around it was a completely different challenge altogether. I truly didn’t want him to be lonely or sad, but I couldn’t make myself sound like it or make my heart feel happy about it. That was exactly why I’d kept my mouth shut and stayed out of Riverbend.
“You just went looking for her, for anybody, so soon. It was a little hard to not take personally,” I admitted.
He was quiet for a moment. “It was personal. Lucy, you don’t belong in Riverbend. You’ve never wanted to live there. And you would’ve stayed for me. I thought maybe if you weren’t so worried about me being lonely, you’d get back to the life you were pulled away from when your mom got sick.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Surely, hallucinations from the concussion.
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m also no good without a wife. As much as I don’t like to admit it, I need somebody around.” He cleared his throat. “But I didn’t start dating again because I wanted to replace my family and get rid of you and Ethan. I did it partly so you kids wouldn’t feel so obligated.”
I heaved in a deep breath. “Wow. I did not expect that.”
“You didn’t ask.”
I laid my head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Dad.”
He patted my knee. “It’s OK, honey. None of this has been easy.”
“Do you really love Katherine?”
“I do.”
I sighed. “She’s so different from Mom.”
“She is. That’s part of what I like about her.” He put his arm around me. “With Katherine, I don’t have to be so alone, but because they’re so different, she never feels like a replacement for your mom.”
A strange mix of sadness and relief washed over me. I hugged him again, this time snuggling my face against the curved slope of his neck, that spot beneath a man’s chin that seems solely carved as a space for the tearful cheeks of weary daughters.
“I love you, Dad.”
He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I love you too, Lulabean.”
*
Dad stayed for dinner, then drove back to Riverbend alone. I promised to come for the weekend as long as the coaches didn’t mind me skipping a practice I couldn’t participate in. I stayed in bed again all day on Wednesday and woke up early enough to watch Jake Barrett on Good Morning America. Then I drove myself to the Sweatshop that night to watch practice.
Grace, Monica, and Zoey all skated over and met me at the door. Olivia had to work.
“How are you feeling?” Zoey asked, enveloping me in a hug.
I smiled. “Better. The headache is gone, and since the swelling is down, I can see properly out of my eye again.” I was searching the room.
“Medusa isn’t here,” Grace said as if reading my mind. “She’s been unofficially suspended.”
“Really?” I asked.
Monica nodded. “They’ve called an emergency team meeting here tomorrow night. They’re holding a vote that could kick Medusa off the team.”
My head snapped back. “Are you kidding?”
“Nope,” Zoey said. “Maven told me it’s the first time in the team’s history they’ve done anything like it.”
“They can do that? Kick her out?” I asked.
“It’s in the Code of Conduct. You can’t intentionally hurt your teammates,” Grace answered.
“Are you guys going to the meeting?” I asked, looking around at them.
They shook their heads.
“It’s only open to team members. We were hoping Olivia might be able to eavesdrop through Styx during the meeting,” Zoey said.
“She’s at the restaurant tonight, but I’ll ask her.” My eyes fell to the concrete floor. “I can’t imagine the Rollers without Medusa.”
They all agreed. Then Shamrocker blew her whistle. I waved as they skated back to the group.
My phone buzzed in my hand. It was a text message from West. How are you feeling?
Me: Better. Thank you. Sorry I’ve been quiet the past couple of days. Been a lot to process with a head injury.
West: It’s OK. Can I come over?
Me: I’m not at home. At practice now.
West: Practice??????
Me: Calm down. I’m just watching. And Medusa’s not here.
West: I hear she might be off the team.
Me: Yeah. I don’t know.
It bothered me that he knew. Was he still talking to her? My brain tinged at the thought, and I pressed my eyes closed. The phone buzzed again.
West: I miss you.
Me: I miss you too. Will you be home tonight? Maybe I can stop by later.
&nb
sp; West: Absolutely.
“Lucy, hey.” I looked up as Styx plowed to a stop in front of the bleachers. “How are you?”
“Better. Thanks again for your help the other night,” I said.
She waved her hand. “Don’t worry about it.”
I smiled.
She leaned a knee pad on the bottom bench. “Olivia said you’re thinking about not taking the skills test.”
I looked away.
“It’d be a real shame if you don’t. You’ve come a long way to give it up now over something as stupid as this.”
I shrugged. “I don’t even know if I’ll be cleared to skate by then.”
She put her hands on her hips. “I know where you live now, and I’ll personally come kick your ass if you don’t show up and the doctor’s say it’s OK.”
The corners of my mouth twitched up.
“What are you doing here if you can’t skate?”
“Maven said even if we get injured, we’re expected to be here, remember?” I asked.
She grinned and crossed her arms. “It doesn’t sound like someone’s completely given up roller derby then.”
I didn’t answer. “Are you guys really voting to kick Medusa out over what happened?”
Her eyes fell to the floor. “The team has rules. She broke them.”
My heart twisted. “Will you let us know what happens?”
“Of course.” She jerked her head toward the door. “You don’t have to stick around. We’re just recapping everything from now until the test.”
“I was thinking about taking Saturday off. Would that be OK?” I asked.
“Sure. Take as much time as you need. Considering all that’s happened, I think we can cut you a little slack.”
My heart deflated.
She pointed at me. “Just be there on the twenty-second.”
I nodded. “I’ll try.”
*
I stayed for the first half of practice, then decided to leave early since I had the coach’s blessing. When I reached the Old Hickory Boulevard exit off I-65, I could circle around the on-ramp and head home to Brentioch, or I could turn right and go to West’s house.
I turned right.
West’s cabin was lit up against the mountainside when I pulled into the driveway. Cash bounded through the grass to meet me when I stepped out of my SUV. He crashed into my chest with his muddy front paws, knocking me back against the driver-side door.
“Cash, down!” West shouted behind me.
I pushed the dog off, then leaned down to scratch his head.
West came around the back of my car, and I straightened, turning toward him. He froze and stumbled back a step when his eyes fell on my face. “Oh, Lucy.”
Cash nudged my leg with his nose.
In a few long steps, West closed the distance between us and pushed my hair back off my face to inspect the damage. He cringed. “Looks like it hurts.”
“It does.”
“I’m so sorry this happened.” He kissed my forehead, then wrapped his strong arms around me. He’d showered recently and smelled like soap and fresh cologne. It was intoxicating.
Pulling away, he took my hand and led me up the steps to the walkway. Cash was right on my heels as we walked to the front door.
“You stay,” West told him, blocking the entrance with his leg when we went inside.
I caught the door before he closed it. “Can’t he come in?”
The dog’s tail wagged.
West smiled. “If that’s what you want.”
Cash trotted proudly into the living room.
“I made dinner if you’re hungry,” he said.
I walked to the sofa and sat down in the center. Cash jumped up next to me and plopped his head in my lap. “I ate before practice. Thank you.”
West was looking in the refrigerator. “I have wine.”
“I’m good.”
“Cheesecake?”
“West, come sit down.”
He closed the refrigerator door, then stared at it a second before finally turning around and walking over. Instead of sitting, he stood in front of me. “Why do I feel like you’re about to break up with me?”
I sighed and didn’t answer. I didn’t have to.
His gaze fell to the floor. He put his hands on his hips. “Because of Medusa?”
I reached for him, and he took my hand. I pulled him down next to me. “Because of me. I’ve got a lot of things to figure out.”
His arm stretched along the back of the sofa behind me. “Why can’t we figure those things out together?”
I stopped petting the dog, and he immediately wiggled his snout under my arm. I snapped my fingers in the direction of the floor. “Cash, get down.” He whimpered, but slid off the sofa and collapsed by my feet. I turned toward West. “I like you so much.”
He tucked my hair behind my ear. “I like you too. This is good. Really good.”
I nodded. “It is. You’re right. But for the first time in forever, I’m doing something just for me. And now it’s all screwed up.”
“And it’s my fault.”
“It’s not your fault, but this does complicate the hell out of it.”
“Aside from this shit with Medusa, how does me being with you complicate it?” He touched his chest. “Not to sound full of it or anything, but I’d like to think being with me could only be a good thing for you in derby.”
I turned up my palm. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about. Two months ago, I sucked at roller skating. I’m still not that great, but I’ve busted my ass to get ready for the skills test. Now I’m afraid they’ll judge me differently because of all the shit with Medusa and because of you.”
He rubbed his forehead and stared out the window. “So that’s it? I’m out so you can do this alone?”
I reached over and tangled my fingers with his. Maybe waffling would say what my words were obviously failing to. “I want you, West. But one way or another, I need to finish this for me.”
I think he stopped listening after “I want you” because his hand slipped behind my head and pulled my lips to meet his. And the kiss was perfect. Long. Slow. Deep and desperate. His teeth tugged at my lower lip, and his tongue slid, warm and heavy, against mine reminding me of all the things he’d done to my body on that very couch just a few days before.
Panting, I pulled away while I still could.
“Stay,” he whispered, his wet lips against my forehead.
My fingers curled into his shirt. “I want to, but I won’t.” I cut my eyes up at him. “I waited for you for a while. It’s your turn now.”
He traced his thumb across my lips. “You’re worth waiting for, Lucy Lou.”
I smiled and breathed him in one more time. “I certainly hope you mean that.”
Nineteen
Thursday morning, I returned to work and slipped into my office undetected before even Claire arrived to man the reception desk. Laying on my leather chair was a white envelope with “Lucy” scrawled in messy handwriting across the front.
I slid my finger under the flap. The card inside had a picture of a donkey on the front and the words “You Kick” printed above it. I laughed and flipped it open.
Lucy,
You kick ass. Seriously. Thanks for helping make my launch such a success.
Sorry about your phone.
Jake.
There was a five-hundred-dollar gift card inside.
His stats had continued to soar in my absence. The video views had climbed to over ten million, the new single was still at the top of all the US charts, and the album was on a trajectory to be the biggest-selling country album of the year.
I propped the card up on my desk and tucked the gift card in my purse.
“You’re lucky it wasn’t a basket of fruit a week for a year. I talked him out of that one,” Ava said.
I looked up as she walked into my office.
She gasped and covered her mouth when she saw my black eye.
�
��It looks worse than it feels,” I said.
“What happened to you?”
I sat back in my chair. “I’m playing roller derby.”
She turned her ear toward me like she wasn’t sure she’d heard me correctly. “Roller derby?”
“Yep.” I pointed at my eye. “I took a pretty nasty hit Monday night and caught a set of wheels to my face.”
“Yikes. Do you wear a helmet, I hope?”
“Yeah. It probably saved my life,” I said.
“I’m glad you’re OK. All I heard was you called out sick.”
My office phone beeped. “Lucy?”
It was the first time I could recall ever hearing my name correctly off the lips of Audrey Scott. Ava and I locked eyes. “Yes?” I asked.
“Can I see you in my office for a moment, please?”
I stood. “Sure. I’ll be right down.”
Ava met me on the other side of the desk. “Be strong. You’ll be fine,” she said as we turned toward the door.
My nerves were screaming otherwise.
Audrey’s door was open when we reached it, and Peter was sitting across from her desk. Thank God.
“Good luck,” Ava whispered before cutting across the hall.
I knocked on the door. “Audrey?”
Audrey and Peter looked up and both did a double take when they saw my face. “Oh…hi, Lucy,” Audrey stammered. “Peter, would excuse us? And close the door on your way out.”
Peter stood and walked toward me with a small grin as he lowered his voice to a whisper. “Show no fear. She feeds off it.” He gently nudged me through her door, then closed it behind me.
Uh-oh. I closed the door gently, then crossed the room and took a seat in one of the armchairs across from her.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
“Better after a couple of days of rest.”
“I’m glad.” It was obvious she wanted to ask about my face. I could tell by her perplexed expression of worry, a look I was quickly becoming accustomed to. But she didn’t ask. Instead. she leaned over a stack of papers on her desk. “I’ve been going through your weekly reports since you’ve been gone.”
To find a reason to fire me, no doubt.
She slipped her glasses back on and picked up the top sheet on the stack. “Since you started here five months ago, across the board our clients have seen a fourteen-percent increase in social-media followers, a four percent-increase in email campaign opens, twenty-two percent in clicks, and a mind-boggling thirty-one-percent increase in post engagement.”