“You don’t have to come with me,” she insisted, once they had put enough distance between them and the crowd and racing tractors to be heard. “I don’t want to spoil your fun.”
“Nothin’ is spoiled,” he assured her, keeping her close to his side. So close, in fact, that their steps faltered every other one from their hips knocking together. “Here we are.” He settled her down on a vacant bench, his hand lingering on her shoulder as if he was afraid to leave her alone. “I’m going to go grab a coupla waters.”
She nodded. Water sounded good. She needed to cool off, get her head together, and stop fantasizing about something that may never happen. It would only lead to disappointment.
After a moment’s hesitation, he left…and that’s when the girl across from her with the two kids decided to strike up a conversation.
“So, you and Nash, huh?” She waggled her strawberry blonde eyebrows.
“Excuse me?”
She wrinkled her freckled nose and scooped up a tiny bit of mashed sweet potatoes from a paper plate to feed to the toddler on her lap. “You’re the talk of the town. Heck, I feel like I practically know ya, ‘cept we just met.”
Vivian couldn’t say the same. “I’m sorry, what did you say your name was?”
“I didn’t. Setting the spoon down, she wiped her hand on her loudly geometric-patterned shirt and reached across the table. “I’m Tabitha, but everyone calls me Tabby. And you are?”
“Vivian,” she returned politely and gave her hand a quick pump. So much for ‘practically’ knowing her.
“That’s an unusual name.”
“My parents are usual people.”
Tabby’s red head bobbed slowly. “Well my husband thinks Sasha here was an unusual choice for a boy, but then I reminded him of that Cohen guy in Hollywood, and he shut right up.”
“Oh yeah, I think I remember a male actor named Sasha on an old family sitcom.” She used to watch it all the time when she was a teen. One of her few guilty pleasures growing up.
“So Nash—”
A bottle of water slid in front of Vivian, cutting their conversation short. Vivian took the bottle, prepared to crack it open and drink deep, but the voice beside her stopped her in her tracks and sent a shiver of warning skating down her spine.
“You look flushed, dear.”
Andrew.
“Are you stalking me?” Vivian gritted out.
“Stalking?” he scoffed. When she felt his hand on her shoulder, Vivian cringed and jerked away. He continued on as if nothing was amiss. “It’s so hot today, and I know how you get in the heat. I must say, though, I’m surprised to see you at an event like this.”
“Would you just, like, disappear?”
Tabby’s shocked expression but inability to look away made Vivian feel even more uncomfortable. If the town was already talking, they would have a well that ran miles deep to draw from after this.
“I already told you my conditions,” Andrew replied casually.
“I already told you I’ll take care of it Monday.” She was not about to allow a potential oversight—that was quickly starting to look like a definite oversight—on her part to derail what she was trying to build now.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Tabby inserted herself.
Vivian wanted to slap her. She’d captured Andrew’s attention, and he was just the type to capitalize on it.
“I’m sorry, where are my manners.” He thrust his hand out. “I’m Andrew DeBois, Vivian’s husband.”
Tabby’s hand, caught mid-shake, stilled, and she appeared a deer in the headlights, her wide, doe-like eyes darting back and forth between them. “You’re…married?”
Vivian wanted to die. Just what she needed, a reputation to tarnish her fresh start.
“I thought you said he was lying.” A voice said from behind her, and Vivian jerked around, horror filling her. There he stood, her handsome cowboy, holding two bottles of water and wearing a stony expression that hid every emotion…unless you knew what to look for. It was the storm brewing behind those blue eyes that told her just how angry and betrayed he felt.
“Nash, it’s not what you think. I thought he was lying, but now…” His expression made it clear she wasn’t getting through to him. “I was going to explain,” she rushed out, her hands held out in front of her as if that would somehow buffer the blow of his rejection.
Gretta was right, she should have said something. She should have said it sooner. But how could she have anticipated Andrew barreling in and ruining her chance?
“Actually, this explains everything,” he said, too calm for her comfort. He set the bottles on the table and glanced at Andrew and then Vivian. “It’s all pretty clear now. Sorry to have gotten in the way. I hope you two are happy together.”
“Nash,” Vivian said weakly as he turned and walked away. She desperately wanted to call him back, to explain everything, but she knew how bad this looked, and with the way he must be feeling inside? Well, if it were her, she’d want some space and time to think.
Also, if it were her, she knew what her decision would be: never to see her again.
Nash’s dark form was swallowed by the crowd in moments, leaving Vivian staring at strangers and with an ache in her chest that left her feeling hollowed out and breathless.
She thought she’d known what heartbreak felt like when she’d walked in on Andrew in bed with another man, but it had nothing on this.
“Fine, Andrew,” she said in defeat, “you win. I’ll come back.”
The look of triumph that erupted on his weasel face vanished quickly.
“But not with you. And only so I can sign those papers and get you out of my life for good,” she sneered, then spun on her heel and marched off in the same direction Nash had gone with the knowledge that it was finally time to do what she’d been fighting not to: say goodbye.
TWENTY-TWO
“You can’t just leave. Y-you have dishes!” Gretta argued. She’d been following her around, trying everything to get Vivian to stay, but Vivian had made up her mind.
“I’m sorry. I know this is a shock, but I can’t stay anymore. I have to go back and get this stuff straightened out.”
“You can do that from here, I’m sure of it.”
“Maybe, but I’m going to make sure it’s done right, in person.” It was something she should have done a long time ago. Running off had been a stupid idea. Now look at the mess she’d caused.
“You’re just upset because Nash took off. He’ll get over it. Men always do.”
“I don’t think this is something Nash is just going to get over. You didn’t see his face.”
“I didn’t have to.” Grabbing her elbow, Gretta forced Vivian to stop packing and look at her. Gray eyes filled with desperation and sadness peered up at her. “I’ll tell you what I tell my boys: don't go runnin’ off half-cocked. That’s how mistakes are made, and you’re makin’ a big one right now.”
“No, I think I’m finally making the right one.” Vivian gently extracted herself and finished folding the last pair of pants, then zipped up her luggage.
Gretta twisted her hands, her mind scrambling for something she could say to make Vivian see things her way, but that only made Vivian feel worse. The reality was, there was nothing that could be said…at least, not by her.
Oh, what a mess she’d made. She felt humiliated all over again, except this time, it was her own damn fault.
Rather than argue further, Gretta accepted defeat and picked up one of Vivian’s suitcases and helped her carry her stuff downstairs. “I don’t know what I’m going to do without you.”
“Same as you always did.”
“Oh, dear, nothing will be the same after you leave.”
Vivian felt another pang in her chest, but this was borne of a different kind of love than she felt when it came to her thoughts of Nash. “I wish I didn’t have to.”
“Then don’t.”
“I can’t stay.”
&nbs
p; Once outside, they took the stairs slowly. “You could if you’d stop being so damn stubborn about it.”
“I just don’t fit here. I thought I was starting to, but now everything is ruined.” Thanks to Andrew and his big mouth.
“No thanks to your smarmy husband,” she echoed her thoughts.
“He has a way of ruining things,” Vivian agreed. “But you won’t be alone. And I’ll call all the time.” Popping the trunk, they dropped her luggage inside.
“That’s no consolation. Come visit, come stay, and then I’ll be happy.”
Vivian could only smile, the effort half-hearted at best. Opening her arms, she enfolded the little woman in a giant hug. “I’ll try to stop in from time to time, but I can’t make any promises.”
“You’re breakin’ my heart, you know.” Gretta sniffed, and Vivian realized she was crying. “You’re the first real friend I’ve had in ages.”
“What are you talking about?” Vivian set her away. There were no tears shed to stain her face, but it was clear that Gretta, strong as ever, was scraping the bottom of the well to keep it together. “You have all kinds of friends.”
The whole town, in fact.
“Bah!” She batted the air. “They’re just people I know. Say a few words in passin’ and everyone is friends. But true friends? Now that’s hard to come by.” She cupped Vivian’s cheek with a wrinkled hand. “And I count you as one.”
Now it was Vivian’s turn to try her damnedest to keep it together. “I’ll call when I get there.”
Gretta’s hand fell away, and she stepped back. “Make sure that you do.”
Vivian turned and opened the driver’s door.
“What do I tell Nash when he asks after you?”
Pausing, Vivian stared across the field in the direction of his property. Did he hate her? Would he ever want to see her again? Did it even matter?
“Tell him…to have a good life.”
***
The drive back to the city took a couple of days, between making stops and finding places to stop and rest in between. The trip felt far longer going back than it had coming in. Maybe it was because with each mile she put behind her, she felt the pull to go back grow stronger.
Was she making the right decision?
She’d told herself and Gretta she was, but the truth was, she wasn’t so sure. She just knew that to stay in that town would have been a mistake.
Right?
She’d forced her way into peoples’ lives only to turn around and hurt them. It was better that she’d left. Now they could get back on with their day and forget about her.
The traffic was a nightmare. That was something Vivian hadn’t missed. Somehow, it felt even more congested and chaotic than she remembered, though. Horns honking angrily, people shouting at one another, pedestrians risking their lives darting in and out of moving traffic, cars and trucks shoving their way between lanes at the first sight of the smallest opening.
Madness.
This was what she’d once called home? It all seemed so foreign now.
I can’t stay here. After I sign those papers, I’m gone.
Just like before, she had no idea where she would go, but anywhere was better than here. Besides, she still hadn’t seen the ocean. What better excuse to leave was there if not that?
Wending down one narrow street after another, fighting the tide of relentless traffic, Vivian finally made it to the building she’d once called home. It belonged to her parents. They weren’t expecting her, but they had a fully-stocked guest room that was always available.
Pulling the nose of her car up to the gates leading to the underground garage, she pressed the button on the intercom. “Vivian Parish for Nadine and Niles Parish,” she told the invisible person listening on the other end.
There was a brief pause while they checked her name against the pre-approved visitor’s list, and then there was a buzz and click as the gates were unlocked.
“Welcome to East Grande Estates. Enjoy your stay, Ms. Parish,” came the disembodied voice.
Light gave way to dark as she pulled the car inside and circled the garage until she found the pre-approved spot her parents paid monthly to reserve for their guests. It struck her, as she parked and got out, that before she never thought twice about the kind of luxury that surrounded her. Now, she couldn’t not notice it.
Everything was so upper crust, so extravagant and expensive, to the point of the ridiculous. Paid parking spots and gated underground garages, apartments that cost more per month than most people made in a year, and so many people vying for it all that they became sour toward one another, resulting in the insanity she’d just waded through outside, yet no one seemed to notice the way it changed them.
Vivian noticed. She felt the changes in herself. Being outside the city had calmed her, had gotten her used to a slower pace, a simpler way of life.
If her mother could hear her thoughts right now, she’d clutch her pearls in horror, because Vivian preferred that simpler life over all of this.
That preference wasn’t going to go unnoticed for long. Vivian hadn’t taken time to change into the requisite clothing that was expected from her parents and those they knew. She’d driven away from Gretta’s house in a pair of blue jeans and cowgirl boots with a simple powder-blue T-shirt from a package off a drugstore shelf and, sticking with that theme, she hadn’t bothered to change into a dress and heels before her arrival.
They would just have to take her as she was because she wasn’t the woman they remembered. Everything was different now, like it or not.
The elevator shot to the fourteenth floor where her parents resided and swept to a smooth stop before settling, causing her stomach to drop and flutter. Vivian stepped off and into a gilded hallway covered in the kind of handcraftsmanship that hadn’t been duplicated since the early twenties when the building was constructed.
She could almost understand the high price tag. Almost.
As with most residents, her parents owned the entire floor, their apartment spanning in all directions. She knocked on the door and waited, rather than let herself inside.
“Vivian, how nice to see you!” Beatrice, the housekeeper from El Salvador, greeted as she opened the door. Vivian smiled at the older woman. With long, black hair that she kept tied up in a braided bun and a smile that bracketed her mouth and eyes with fine lines that bespoke her chipper attitude, unsoured by the city and its people, she was easily the most attractive woman Vivian knew, inside and out, within city limits.
“Hey, Bea! It’s been a while,” she said, accepting and returning the woman’s brief hug. “How is the family?”
“Never been better. Carlos got that security job at the university.”
Vivian matched her enthusiastic smile. “That’s wonderful!”
“It is. We can finally put away for Isa’s college.”
Vivian was so happy to hear that things were going well for her. They’d known each other for years, since Vivian was a teenager, and the woman had become a kind of second mother to her. She was always great to chat with, and her warm personality made her easy to relate to, even if they came from different ends of the social spectrum.
After a bit more catching up, she asked, “Are my mom or dad around?”
“Just your mother.” She pointed toward the bank of windows beyond the living area that led to the private balcony and a stunning view of the city and the harbor beyond. “Mr. Parish is away on business until next week.”
“Thanks, Bea.” Leaving her to her work, Vivian headed outside to join her mother, whom she could now see was relaxing on the settee she’d ordered special from Italy two years ago, reading a book.
The patio door slid open on a whisper, and she stepped out. “Reading Dracula again?” she asked, startling her.
“Vivian! I didn’t know you were coming.” She popped her five-foot-one self to her feet and pulled Vivian into a very uncharacteristic embrace.
Awkwardly, Vivian returned the hug wit
h a light pat on the back. “It was kind of spur of the moment.”
“I wish you’d called,” her mother said as she stepped back to have a good look at her. “I would have asked Bea to order some food.”
“It’s fine. I’m not hungry.”
Her mother’s brown eyes ran over her. “Did you lose weight?”
“Um…maybe?”
“You look good.”
Vivian wasn’t sure how to take the compliment. Had she thought she was overweight before and approved of the loss, or was she being critical because she thought she was underweight?
“Thanks. So, um, I don’t plan on being in town long,” she started. “I just need to get a few things squared away. I was thinking I would stay here for a couple of days?”
“Of course you can, honey,” her mother agreed, though her expression was filled with a combination of suspicion and curiosity. “Is this about Andrew?”
Vivian shifted on her feet. Sensing that this was going to be a heavy conversation, her mother returned to the settee, motioning for Vivian to follow.
“Andrew claims that I didn’t sign the divorce decree, so we’re still technically married.”
Her mother gasped lightly, but Vivian had a feeling this wasn’t news to her.
“He was adamant, so I’m inclined to believe him. So I need to call my lawyer and get that settled.”
“And then you plan to leave again.”
“Yes,” she answered plainly.
“To where? You didn’t tell anyone where you were going last time, or even that you’d left. We were worried sick. If it wasn’t for Andrew, we may never have known what happened to you.”
So they had been in touch with him. Vivian began to wonder just how much they knew and for how long. “I’m sorry about that,” she offered. “I just had to get away. It wasn’t planned.”
“Well, I can certainly understand the need for a vacation, but now that you’re back, I must insist you stay.”
“I can’t.”
“Nonsense,” her mother argued. “You have to work, earn money, pay bills. You can’t do any of that flitting about to God knows where for God knows how long. It’s time to return to the real world and pick up where you left off.”
Finding Home (Roped by the Cowboy Duet Book 1) Page 15