by Devney Perry
I shook my head, focusing on the coffee pot. I’d brewed a large pot today because I’d slept like shit last night. Though I always slept like shit. Waking at three or four in the morning had become normal over the past decade. If I got five hours sleep, that was a good night.
There was just too much on my mind. Too much to shut down.
Too many thoughts.
Clara was one of them.
How had she found me? How had Londyn’s car found its way to Clara? And what about the others? Had she heard from them? The questions seemed endless. I swiped a bottle of water from the fridge and carried the coffee mugs to the living room.
Clara was bent over her son, watching along as he played with more animation than the game characters themselves.
“Here you go.” I handed her a mug, then took the couch opposite hers, setting my coffee on a coaster so it could cool.
“Thanks.” She did the same, then touched some buttons on August’s game, turning the volume down.
He shot her a scowl but didn’t argue.
“Your home is gorgeous,” she said, taking in the room’s white walls and plethora of windows.
“I wanted something bright. Airy. I like to be able to see outside.”
“Mine’s got more of a modern style, but lots of windows too.”
“Where do you live?”
“Welcome, Arizona. It’s a little town on old Route 66. I moved there five years ago, when August was a baby.” She toyed with his hair, brushing it off his forehead as he played.
“You like it there?”
She nodded. “I do. It’s quiet and safe. Good schools. The desert is truly beautiful in the spring, when the wildflowers bloom. Though at the moment, it’s hot. Aria just moved there.”
“Aria.” I smiled at the name. A name I hadn’t said aloud for years. I hadn’t spoken any of their names in longer than I could remember. “How is she?”
“Great. She just had a baby. She’s married to my boss, Brody. They live next door so we can invade each other’s privacy on a regular basis.”
“Good for her.” I leaned forward and put my elbows to my knees. “Okay, I was going to go for small talk, but the curiosity is killing me. How are you here?”
She stretched for her coffee mug. “Like I said. Londyn. That’s the short answer.”
“Londyn.” Another name. Another memory. “I’m going to need more than that.”
Clara laughed and shifted in her seat, crossing a leg over the other. She moved with such elegance. It was something I’d always noticed. She was graceful, like a dancer who’d missed out on dance lessons, but the talent didn’t need instruction because it was in her bones. If anything, time seemed to have only accentuated her poise.
“Londyn hauled the car to Boston and had it restored,” she said.
“But she didn’t keep it?”
Clara shook her head. “She wants you to have it.”
“Me?” My jaw hit the area rug beneath the couch. “Seriously? Why?”
“Because it was yours too. That was the reason she gave me. But I think because she doesn’t need it anymore. She found what she was looking for.”
“Is she happy?”
Clara smiled. “She is. She lives in West Virginia with her husband. Has a couple of cute little kids.”
Something inside me clicked. A piece snapped into place. A worry disappeared. For many, many years I’d wondered what had happened to Londyn. To Clara. To the rest of our junkyard crew. I hadn’t had the courage to seek them out. Maybe I’d been too afraid of what I’d find. But knowing Londyn was happy was a balm to the soul.
“Good. You’ve seen her?”
“Just on our virtual chats. We have them every month or so. It started as a book club but we rarely discuss books. Mostly we talk. Catch up on the years we missed. The chats are a fairly recent thing. Ever since the Cadillac started its trip across the country.”
Another string of questions zipped through my mind but rather than blurt them in rapid succession, I picked up my coffee and settled into the couch. “I think you’d better give me the long answer now.”
She laughed. “We might need more coffee.”
“For you? I’ll make all the pots in the world. I also have lemonade with lots and lots of ice.”
“You remember that too?”
Everything. “I remember everything.”
An hour later, I stared at Clara in amazement. There was no other word for her story. It was simply amazing.
“Handoffs. That’s . . . damn, that’s cool.”
“Right?” She’d been smiling for nearly the entire hour we’d talked. With every twist and turn of the Cadillac’s journey across the country, her smile seemed to widen.
And I kept on drowning, sinking deeper and deeper into those twinkling eyes and breathtaking smile.
“So Londyn’s in West Virginia,” I said. “Gemma and Kat in Montana. And you and Aria in Arizona.”
“Yep.” She nodded. “I don’t know if we would have come together again without that Cadillac. Maybe. I guess I like to hope so. But it’s been the catalyst. All because Londyn wants you to have it.”
“But I can’t take it.” I shook my head. “That car must have cost her a small fortune.”
“She doesn’t care about the money. She wants you to have it. You deserve that car. You were the one who made it safe for us to live at Lou’s. You stayed. You protected us.”
“It’s too much.”
“No, it’s not enough.” She shook her head. “Besides, I’m not taking it with me when we go home. And after you spend an hour or two behind the wheel, you’ll never let it go.”
I chuckled. “Should we go for a drive?”
“I was hoping you’d say that.” Clara nudged August away from the game. “Gus, time for a break.”
“Okay, Mom.” He looked up at her with so much love and admiration. That kid worshiped his mother. Lucky guy. All kids deserved to have a mother like Clara.
We hadn’t gotten into much of her story yet. Or his. I hoped we would on the drive because while my curiosity was sated for the moment, the hunger to know everything about her would return.
I stood from the couch and collected her empty coffee mug. We’d been so into the story, I hadn’t needed a refill. I’d been glued to her every word. “Let me put these in the sink. I’ll meet you outside.”
With flip-flops on my feet and my wallet tucked into a pocket of my shorts, I found them in the driveway. August was already buckled into his car seat while Clara stood beside the passenger door. Her green shorts left her long, tanned legs on display. A white tee draped over her trim frame.
Beautiful. She’d only grown more beautiful.
She tossed me the keys with a smirk and popped open her door.
It was strange, getting behind the wheel of a car I’d once slept in for months. One glance at the backseat and I didn’t see white leather or August, but Londyn lounging against one side while I was against the other, our legs tangled.
Clara followed my gaze. “It’s hard not to see her back there, isn’t it?”
“We had a lot of good times in this car.”
“What’s that saying? You never forget your first love.”
My gaze shifted to her face.
Londyn hadn’t been mine. I was sure that Clara thought so, but Londyn had been a great girlfriend. A best friend. My first love? No. I’d thought so at the time but now, years later, after growing up, I knew the difference between affection and love.
“No, you don’t forget.”
When she turned my way, something crossed her face. Shock, maybe. Or was she back there with me, at the junkyard when we’d lain on the hood of this car to count shooting stars?
“Where are we going?” August asked.
I tore my eyes away from Clara’s soft lips and put the key into the ignition.
Clara cleared her throat. “Um, just for a drive.”
“Another drive,” he groaned. “For how long?”
; “Short.” I turned and gave him a wink. “Promise.”
“I bet we could drive by the ocean again,” Clara said.
“Sure thing.” I started the engine, feeling the rumble and vibration of what had to be a state-of-the-art engine. “Ahh. She purrs. Like she always should have.”
“And she floats.” Clara dug a pair of sunglasses from her purse and slid them on, covering up those sparkling irises.
I fought the urge to take them from her face. I fought the swell in my chest—and behind my zipper.
Get your shit together, Avery. This should not be my reaction. It had to be history, right? Shock? That was the only explanation for why my head and my body were having such a hard time distinguishing the Clara from my memory and the Clara riding shotgun.
Shaking it off, I put the Cadillac in reverse and backed out of the driveway. I drove us to the highway, and as my foot pressed the gas pedal, I couldn’t help but smile. “Oh, yeah, she floats.”
“Told you.”
“Londyn’s never getting this car back.”
Clara giggled. “She thought you might say that.”
“I feel like an asshole for not keeping in touch.” Though I’d had my reasons. Or excuses.
“He said a bad word.” August sat up straight in his seat, but instead of a glare or scowl, he was grinning eagerly.
“Sorry.” I gave Clara an exaggerated frown.
“You owe him a quarter. He’s going to fund his college tuition off the bad language of the adults in his life, aren’t you, Gus?”
“Yep. I have three hundred twenty-seven dollars and fifty cents.”
“Wow.” I shifted in my seat, keeping one hand on the wheel so I could dig my wallet out of my shorts pocket with the other. By some miracle, there were three quarters inside the main fold. I plucked them out and passed them all back. “This is in case you bust me later today.”
“That’s what Uncle Brody does too. He calls it paying in advance.”
“Brody has supplied the bulk of that three hundred and twenty-seven dollars,” Clara said.
We drove for a few miles, letting the wind blow past us, but curiosity kept gnawing at me.
Where was August’s father? Why didn’t Clara have a ring on her finger? Had they met in Vegas? How long had she worked there? Why had she left? When?
Damn it, I shouldn’t have looked her up all those years ago. One ten-minute glimpse into her life on Facebook, and I’d been haunted by a string of pictures ever since. Those photos had taken on a life of their own in my imagination. I’d seen her with him. I’d seen her happy and free.
I’d lived with them and the envy that tainted them because in my mind, Clara had been happy. She was happy, right? She looked happy. So why were she and August here alone?
Maybe I shouldn’t have let those pictures scare me away.
I glanced at Clara, memorizing the small smile on her mouth. Not that I needed to. I’d memorized that look years ago. August’s attention was rapt on the passing buildings and the ocean beyond.
“Been to the beach yet?” I asked Clara, keeping my voice low.
“Not yet. We came straight to your house.”
I grinned at her, then pushed down the blinker and drove to my favorite spot. When I pulled into the parking lot, August’s excitement was palpable. His legs kicked and he bounced in the confines of his seat’s harness.
“Can we go swimming?” he asked, nodding like he could influence his mother’s answer.
“Uh, not yet. But later we’ll go swimming. After we get checked into the hotel.”
“How long are you staying?” I unbuckled as she climbed out and helped August out of the car.
“Two nights.”
Two nights. Not enough. “What hotel?”
“The Kate Sperry Inn. It’s a local spot, I guess.” She shrugged. “The ratings were good.”
“It’s very nice.” The place was a four-star hotel that cared more about quality than quantity. She’d have access to the beach and a pool.
“Mom, can I—” He tugged on her arm.
“Go ahead. Only go into the water as far as your ankles.” She laughed as he raced away, stumbling a bit on that first footstep into the sand. But he righted himself quickly and threw his arms in the air as he ran.
“I did the exact same thing when I came here.” I chuckled and led Clara to the beach. Our pace slowed as we joined August at the water’s edge. He dipped a toe in, then dropped to put his hands in the foam.
“I hope you don’t feel like we invaded today,” she said.
“Not at all. It’s a Sunday. I don’t do much on Sundays except come to the beach. Surf if I’m feeling it. Today, I didn’t have to come alone.”
She tipped her head to the sky, letting the sunshine light the fine contours of her cheeks. Her every movement had my focus. It had always been like that, hadn’t it? Even when it shouldn’t have been. Even when I’d had to hide it from everyone else.
Clara had always held a special place in my life. She was sweet. She was strong. She made me laugh.
She made me feel like I could move mountains. Like I could swim across the ocean and back. She was . . . she was my Clara.
Maybe that was why it had been so easy to fall for her, even when I’d known I shouldn’t.
Twelve years ago. Today. Here I was, still hanging on her every step. Clinging to every word. Every smile.
Even when I knew I shouldn’t.
Chapter Ten
Karson
“August loves pizza,” Clara said, digging a fork into her salad. “I’ll eat it every now and then but rarely.”
“Same.” I twirled a twist of spaghetti around my fork. “I haven’t had peanut butter since.”
“Me neither. Gus didn’t even know what a peanut butter and jelly sandwich was until he started kindergarten last year. He thinks they are the best things ever.”
August was sitting behind a plastic steering wheel with his eyes glued to a video game screen where a race was about to start. The arcade room of the restaurant had been a hit. His foot slammed into the gas pedal and he shifted his body with every turn of the wheel.
After spending the afternoon at the beach, mostly watching August and the ocean, I’d taken them to get checked in to their hotel. Then we’d watched August swim for an hour.
Clara and I had talked poolside, mostly reminiscing about old times. She’d filled me in on the lives of the others and shown me pictures on her phone of Aria and her newborn baby.
The longer the day went on, the more and more I’d resented the noticeable lack of detail about her life in our conversation.
So I’d insisted on dinner. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye until I knew more of her story.
Around us, the sounds of arcade games filled the air with beeps and bells. Most of the tables were full of parents visiting. Like Clara, they seemed to keep one eye on their children, ready to dole out more quarters when needed.
Garlic and tomato and cheese scents infused the air. The owners of this little Italian restaurant had been brilliant to bring in the games for kids because it brought families here to savor their delicious food. The kids had the games. The parents, the wine selection.
“August is a great kid,” I said, smiling as he shot both hands in the air, game won.
“He’s my whole world.” Clara’s eyes lit up when they landed on her son. It reminded me so much of the past. She’d had that same look when we’d stood in line at the movie theater for tickets. Or the day I’d brought her that GED study guide, even though I’d stolen it. Or when she’d beat me at cards.
When I’d teased her that I’d let her win, when really, she’d kicked my ass.
“I keep getting this feeling like no time at all has passed,” I confessed. “Then I blink and remember how long it’s been.”
“I was thinking the same thing when we were on the beach today. Weird, right?”
“Weird.”
Wonderful, heartbreaking, beautiful misery.
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I was so damn glad to be sitting across from her. And so fucking sad that I’d missed so much when maybe . . .
Maybe I hadn’t had to miss it.
Clara set her fork down and gave me a sad smile. “When you never came to see us in Vegas, I thought maybe . . . oh, never mind.”
“Thought what?”
“That you’d forgotten about us. That maybe we weren’t as good of friends as I’d built up in my head.”
Friends. That word rang through the air like a gunshot. Pain speared my chest. Direct hit.
Was that all she’d thought we were? Friends? Clara had to know that she’d meant so much more. And because of what she’d meant, it was the reason I hadn’t gone to Vegas with her in the first place.
I’d had to get my shit together. I’d had to realize that the words she’d once told me were true—that I wasn’t toxic to the people in my life. I’d had to grow up. Too bad it’d taken me so damn long.
By then, it had been too late.
“I never forgot about you. You know why I didn’t come with you to Vegas after the junkyard. I didn’t want to taint your life. I might have run away from my mother, but that didn’t mean her words hadn’t come to the junkyard with me. It took me a long time to erase them from the back of my mind. To move past them. You were right, what you told me. Wish I had listened. But I needed to figure it out on my own, you know?”
Understanding crossed her face. “Karson.”
“It wasn’t that I didn’t want to go with you. I just didn’t want to bring my bullshit into your new life. And by the time I realized it was just that—bullshit—well, a lot of years had passed.”
“I get it,” she said. “It’s the same reason all of us lost touch for so long. We all needed that time to put the past away.”
“Exactly.”
What I was never good at articulating, Clara could voice perfectly. There was no person on earth who’d gotten me like she always had. She knew it had been my mountain to climb.
God, how I had missed her.
“Thank fuck for that goddamn Cadillac.”
She laughed and the sound was a blast to the past. Sweet. Musical. Sincere. Clara’s face was like a shooting star when she laughed. You didn’t want to blink and miss a second of the show.