Wood U (Carved Hearts #4)

by L. G. Pace III

  “All I’m saying, Raquel, is that this behavior is not the behavior of the girl I raised. Would I love to have you come to Denver? Of course. But this…this seems like running away from your problems. Shouldn’t you call Malcolm and try and clear the air before you go?”

  I whipped my head in her direction and nearly spilled my coffee. “What the hell would I call him for? I saw him kiss his ex-wife. I need to have my fucking eyes bleached.”

  She pursed her lips at my use of profanity, but didn’t correct me.

  “I realize that looks bad. I just think you should make sure you have all of the information before you make a major life decision like leaving town.” Suspicion flooded through me at her strange behavior.

  “What the hell, Mom? You’ve been bugging me for years to move back to Colorado. Now you’re waxing philosophical and embracing my independence? Where’s my selfish mother who railed at me for living a half a world away?”

  Instantly regretting the volume of my tirade, I cradled my throbbing temple. My mother quietly left the room, returning with some pain killers and a tall glass of water.

  “You know that I want you to come to Denver.” Her placating tone was unfamiliar, but no less comforting. “I just don’t want you to look back and regret your decision. You have a contract to think about, and I know how much you love this school.”

  Swallowing the pills, I drank most of the water before sinking back into the couch.

  It had been an idiotic mistake, drinking as much as I had the night before. Now my mind, heart, and body were in agonizing sync. Mom picked up a book from the table and began to read, leaving me to close my eyes and rest. After a few minutes, the pounding in my head abated enough for me to peek over at my mother. She was fiddling with her cell phone, and I decided I must be in an alternate universe. My mom had never been a big cell phone user, but then again, she’d just discovered the joy of the smartphone.

  I went to soak in the shower, as if I had some hope of steaming away the ache I felt all the way down in my soul. I didn’t want to leave my job. I had a home at Porter, and felt appreciated for the first time in a very long time.

  After toweling off, I dressed in slow motion, wishing I could just go home and crawl into my bed. Remembering that my sheets would smell like Mac’s musk, my daydream vanished in a puff of smoke.

  I was in the act of stuffing my face with pancakes a half an hour later when there was a knock on the door. My mother rose to get it. I thought maybe Bart had forgotten his room key, and you could have knocked me over with a feather when I looked up to see her standing in front of me with my father. Francis wore a guilty, hangdog expression on his face, but when I met his eyes, his features smoothed.

  “Dad? What the hell are you doing here?” My tone was more incredulous than angry. If you had told me a week before that my mother and father would be standing side by side, I would have laughed you out of the room.

  “Hey, darlin’. Your mom called the shop earlier and she and I got to talking.” The glare I shot my mother should have melted steel, but she simply shrugged.

  “I was going to give that Malcolm fellow a piece of my mind. Your father answered instead.” Her tone was less than pleased.

  “I normally handle the phones.” He shrugged.

  “Yes,” my mother said in a tone cold enough to freeze water. “It’s oh so unusual for a salesman to answer phones.” Francis glanced at her then looked down at the ground. Mom continued as if he hadn’t interrupted her. “After I spoke with your father, he pointed out some inconsistencies with your version of events. He went to find this Malcolm fellow to get to the bottom of things. He called me back, and we agreed that it would be best to try and figure all this out together.”

  I looked back and forth between them, attempting to wrap my dehydrated brain around what I was hearing. It was obvious that they hadn’t buried the hatchet. If anything, my mother looked like she wanted to bury a hatchet in Francis’s head. But they were speaking, working together, trying to parent me.

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake!” My profanity dam had apparently shattered along with the rest of me, and I suddenly found my colorful vernacular the only refuge from the insanity that had become my life. “How dare the two of you conspire against me! You wait until I’m a grown woman to put on your parent pants? Where the hell was this unity when I needed it?”

  “Kelly,” Mom gasped.

  “Honey,” Francis began, his cautionary undertone instantly pissing me off. He was already siding with Mom against me.

  “Shut up, both of you, before my brain explodes. Do you know how many times I fantasized about this? My parents coming together because they were more concerned about me than about themselves? I don’t need this now! I’m not thirteen anymore.”

  “Kelly,” Dad soothed. He perched on the couch beside me and put a hand on my arm. “We know we made mistakes. But we ended up with a lot of wisdom because of it. Is it so wrong that we’re trying to keep you from making an equally bad error in judgment?”

  My mother moved to sit on the nearby chair, letting my father take center stage in front of me. “I know you’re mad, but that’s the worst time to make big decisions about your life. Take some time, get your head on straight, and get all of the information. Once you calm down and look at things objectively, you’ll be able to make a choice that you can live with.”

  My father was a born salesman. Everything about his delivery encouraged me to listen and to realize that he had my best interests at heart. I knew he wanted me to stay in Austin and be a part of his daily life. For a moment, I wavered. I actually considered going along with whatever cockamamie scheme they’d come up with. I pictured Mac, his easy grin and those amazing arms. I could smell him…taste him as if it had been moments, rather than days, since we’d been together. Then the image of Patricia plastered all over him filled my mind, and pain shot though me, nearly doubling me over. I took a few breaths to steady myself. As the pain receded, it was replaced by white hot anger.

  “I asked you for something simple, Dad. Can you pack up my apartment for me or not?” The venomous way the words came out wiped the placating look from my father’s face, and he looked as worn as I’d ever seen him.

  “Of course I can. Whatever you need, I can do. But—” I interrupted him with a shake of my head.

  “No. I appreciate what you are trying to do.” I turned and included my mother in my gaze. “Both of you…really. But I can’t go back to that apartment. I just…can’t.” The tears started streaming down my cheeks and I hated the fact that I couldn’t stop them. They blurred my vision enough that I almost missed the look that passed between my parents.

  “What?” I asked angrily. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Well,” Francis responded in a guilty tone of voice. “Mac knows you’re here and he is waiting down in the lobby to talk to you.”

  I felt like the blood had drained from my body.

  “H…how could you do this to me?” Panic blossomed in my chest. Jumping to my feet, I rushed to the door, taking a few seconds to pull on my running shoes. Adrenaline coursed through my veins, causing my heart to thud dangerously in my chest.

  “Raquel!” my mother snapped from behind me, her voice firm and authoritative.

  “Honey…” was all Francis managed before I was out of the door.

  I had a sickening premonition about running into Mac in the elevator, so I took the stairs. As I exited into the lobby, I caught sight of him sitting in a wingback chair by the front desk. Our eyes met, and as always, his baby blues ensnared me. He rose to his feet, and the action broke me free from the spell. I bolted for the door, and a half second later, I heard him call my name.

  Once outside, I burst into a full sprint. I had no destination in mind; I just wanted away from the searing pain that seeing Mac caused me. As I neared the end of the block, I glanced over my shoulder. Even from a half a block away, I could see Mac’s face contorted in disbelief. I’d easily smoked him, but I kept
running to be sure I’d lost him. Doubling back to the hotel, I asked the valet to bring my car around to the other side of the building.

  I drove to nearby Zilker Park and spent the next couple of hours sobbing in the front seat of my car. I had nowhere to go, and everyone I knew also knew Mac. When I finally calmed down, I pulled out my phone and turned it on. Ignoring the multiple texts and voicemails, I called Jerry.

  “Hey Kel, what’s shaking?” Her cheery honeymoon-laced voice made me envious.

  “Jerry, hey…I hate to bother you…”

  “What’s wrong?” she said in a rush, her tone all business.

  “Mac and I broke up.” I hated the bitter taste of this truth, but I pushed past it. “It’s a long story. I need somewhere to stay tonight. Can I come over?”

  “Yes. Get over here.” Her commanding quality was that of a general formulating a battle plan. “And for God’s sake, either drive slowly, or call a cab!”

  Jerry’s is where I should have gone in the first place. With Chuck away at a conference in New England, she was gracious enough to let me stay in her guest room. Their new house was amazing, and the room I was staying in had a huge en suite bathroom with a deep tub that I spent hours soaking in. When I resurfaced, Jerry told me she’d spoken to her husband, and he had insisted that I stay as long as I liked.

  As generous as she was, Jerry was very “tough love” about the Mac situation. After a day of arguing, binge watching Gilmore Girls, and consuming tons of Amy’s Ice Cream, she helped me figure out what my next move was.

  “I wish I could just take off, get away for a few months. I love Porter Elementary, and I love Austin. It’s just that everywhere I go and every single stinking thing I do here reminds me of him.” I admitted, toying with a loose thread on the throw I was cuddled beneath.

  “There is no way in hell you’re leaving Austin.” Her green eyes flashed as she pointed her Milano cookie at me aggressively. “So you and Mac broke up. Big deal. He stepped out on you with a skank and that’s unforgivable. You don’t need any part of him or that Maury Povich bullshit. Go get yourself tested and move on. This town is full of eligible men.”

  That night, I took one of Jerry’s sleeping pills and dreamed I was playing cowboys with M.J. His infectious laughter was remarkably vivid. I turned and saw that Mac was kicked back watching us from the tail-gait of his truck. I woke with a smile on my face, but as my eyes adjusted to my unfamiliar surroundings, the blade of reality twisted inside me. Rolling over, I stared at the freshly painted wall, and I tried to tell myself it didn’t matter. My time with Mac and M.J. had been the dream, and loneliness had always been the eventual outcome.

  I changed my phone number the following morning, and I sent a text to Mom and Dad immediately. I instructed them that if anyone else ended up with my number, I’d change it again and neither of them would get it. They both responded that they understood.

  Mom was already back in Denver, and I cried when I realized I’d blown my chance to properly see them off. I texted her that she didn’t deserve such a selfish kid, and I promised to fly up to see her and Bart over fall break. She called me immediately.

  “Don’t be sorry, Raquel. We enjoyed our visit. I’m looking forward to Thanksgiving. Bart and I want to come down to see you again once the dust from all of this settles.”

  “You don’t have to—” I started, but she cut me off.

  “We want to. I love you, sweetheart. Please be good to yourself. I hate that you’re going through this. Things will work out the way they were meant to.”

  “I love you too, Mom,” I said past the lump in my throat. “Tell Bart thanks for being so patient.”

  Twenty minutes later, I called Dad. I was nervous. I needed him to bring me a couple of things from the apartment, but I was afraid he’d tell Mac he was meeting me. I couldn’t live without the stuff once I was back at school, and I had no idea how long it would take to find a new place. Dad answered on the first ring and agreed to meet me at a nearby cafe.

  I watched my dad from my parking spot across the street to be sure he hadn’t brought Mac along. He hadn’t. Feeling melodramatic, I rolled my eyes and entered the restaurant. I slid into the booth, and the scrutiny in his dark eyes was unmistakable as he peered at me from over his menu.

  “How are you holding up?” he asked cautiously, passing my bag of things across the table to me. When I shrugged and sipped my water silently, he dropped the menu and folded his hands. “I had a talk with Joe today. He says to take your time finding someplace else and to call him if you change your mind.”

  I nodded. Joe’s understanding made me a little misty. I considered all of the Hildebrandts (Joe included) my friends. Losing them left another gaping hole in my heart, and just like that, I was mad at Mac all over again.

  “Thank you,” I managed. “I’m sorry I yelled at you. I know you were trying to help. I just wasn’t ready to see him. I don’t think I ever will be.”

  He seemed to evaluate the statement, and it appeared to frustrate him.

  “You know I admire your strength, Darlin’, but your self-righteousness isn’t one of your best qualities. You might want to reserve judgment until you have all of the facts.”

  I whipped my head in his direction, stunned by his abrasive tone.

  “I know what I saw. I can’t unsee it.” I sounded so much like my mother that I wanted to wash my own mouth out with soap.

  He shook his head, his lips a thin pale line. “You’re only hurting yourself, Kelly.”

  “That’s exactly the problem. I’m the only one who’s hurting. And it’s so unfair because I did nothing but love those two. I deserve someone who respects me. I warrant a damn phone call, Dad. It would be nice to be missed.” Tossing my menu aside, I took the bag of things he’d brought me and left without another word. Thirty minutes later, guilt set in and I called him.

  “Hello, darlin’.” The love I heard proved that no matter how much of a jerk I was, he wouldn’t allow it to cause a schism between us.

  “I’m sorry, Dad.” When I exhaled, it seemed like I felt it all the way to my bones. “I just miss him.”

  “I know, Kelly,” he responded. I heard a racket and deep voices in the background. He covered the receiver, and I heard his muffled speech. Then he was back. “I can’t talk. I’m at the shop. Call me later, alright?”

  “Okay,” I replied, and as I was hanging up, I was sure I heard Mac’s voice in the background. It pierced my armor, and I spent the rest of the afternoon in bed, too depressed to do anything at all.

  School was starting in three weeks, and I was really looking forward to it. I had found out ‘unofficially’ from Principle Higgins that she had found the media mole. Paula had been foolish enough to give interviews to anyone that would listen to her. One of the people she talked to was a free speech blogger who believed in the free flow of information. That included listing the full name of their sources in everything they reported. With the blogger willing to corroborate that the interview had taken place, Higgins had been able to happily terminate Paula for cause.

  The thought of being back at school without that horrid woman lurking in the office was one of the few positive things in my life. I took comfort in the structured days ahead. Though I knew it would be painful to see Mac Junior again, getting back into my work routine would help keep my mind busy, and I was in desperate need of that distraction.

  A few days later, Jerry convinced me to hoist up the long skirts of my dignity and trudge forward on the path to normalcy. We’d been on a series of long bike rides to make up for pigging out, and after relentless peer pressuring, I spent two hundred dollars to join Capers and Connections. It was the non-dating service Molly had told me about that arranged for groups of singles to go on different outings.

  “Just go a few times,” Jerry insisted, and the girls nodded in agreement. “If you hate it, fine. But it’ll get you back the game.”

  The first two trips were awkward minglings. The first was a w
ine tasting at a nearby vineyard with a bunch of young professionals who spent the entire night name- dropping politicians and other people I’d never heard of. The second sounded like more fun. It was a murder mystery dinner, complete with costumes at a local bed and breakfast. Half of the crowd drank way too much, and I complained to the organizers when some masked guy felt me up. I was ready to abandon my deposit and resign myself to life as an old maid. Jerry refused to let me sit around and mope, and she dragged me to get my first (and last) Brazilian.

  “Have I told you lately that I hate you?” I asked her, collapsing into her recliner and resisting the urge to put ice on my aching v.

  “What? You’re all sooth and kissable now,” she laughed. “You’ll thank me later.”

  “No one’s going to be down there for a very long time.” I sighed with a wistful smile, and before I could stop myself, Mac was on my mind. My grin evaporated instantly. Jerry noticed immediately and hurled a throw pillow at my head.

  “The best fix for falling off a horse is to saddle right back up. So get out there and ride cowgirl! Ride!” The obscene gyrations that accompanied her advice sent me into hysterical laughter. Against my better judgement, I ended up at the next Capers and Connections event, which was go-cart racing at a mini-midway. Molly’s employee, Isaac was hanging out with the event organizer when I walked in. He spotted me and called out in his flamboyant voice.

  “Hey, gurrrl!”

  I had a surprisingly good time, racing recklessly around the course against a couple of guys from UT Austin’s athletics faculty. The assembled group was much more laid back, and a few of us went out for wings and a pint afterwards. With Isaac there, I felt a lot less pressured, and when a particularly cute banker urged me to try fried pickles, I accepted. Mac had been after me to try them for a year, but I’d always been too worried about the calories. Since I no longer cared if my ass got fat, I decided there was no time like the present to start making new Texas memories. For a few hours, I almost felt normal again. Isaac made me swear I’d come to the next event, which they announced was zip lining at Lake Travis. Everyone at the bar was planning to go, and I was surprised to find that I was actually looking forward to it.