by Jody Holford
“She’s leaving,” he whispered pitifully.
“What?” Char said again, this time a bit more hushed but still surprised.
“Yes. She is,” Kate said. She shook her head and finally looked at Alex. It took everything in him to find the strength to meet her eyes. She waited until he did before she continued.
“Lucy agreed to take a one-week photo shoot in New York. Kind of a trade-off for her friend taking me on as an intern. It works out perfectly. She’ll come with me. Do the shoot. Help me get settled. Turns out that Kael even found some apartments for me to take a look at.”
Kate stood, took Char’s hand, and leaned her head on her sister’s shoulder. Alex looked back and forth between them. Char’s face registered understanding. “You thought she was leaving for good. You thought she was running.”
Alex didn’t move. He couldn’t.
“You should go,” Kate said. He started to protest, but she stopped him. “The doctor said she’s going to be fine. Just a dizzy spell. They’ll run some tests to rule things out. You have to let her go. If she wants to contact you, she will.”
With that, both women turned and walked past the nurses’ station. The doors slid open when they approached and then shut behind them. Alex sat, staring through the glass at their disappearing backs, wondering how—when Lucy was all that he had wanted for as long as he could remember—he had managed to chase her away when she’d been willing to stay.
Lucy was curled on her side, Kate holding one hand, Char tucked in behind her. Char had crawled right into the bed, bossy as ever, and wrapped herself around Lucy and cried. All three of them had cried. They’d washed their dad out of the small, curtained room with their tears. He’d left to get Charlotte’s car and bring it around to the emerge ncy room exit.
“Lucy?” Kate said. Lucy stared at a tiny fleck on the washed-out wall. Her body felt numb, and her mind refused to focus. Her heart was still beating, but she was certain that it was an entirely useless organ now. What would she do with it? She thought of all of the photographs she had taken that hadn’t turned out just as she’d wanted. She’d shredded them. It’s not like she could travel with boxes of unusable photographs. How do you do that with a heart? Especially one that’s already shredded. She wished she could box it up. Drop it off on Alex’s doorstep. Here. You broke it, you keep it.
“I want to go home,” Lucy whispered.
“Dad’s getting the car. Damn. We haven’t even talked about that yet,” Char said, rubbing her hand up and down Lucy’s chilled arm. “Can you sit up? What did the doc say about your dizzy spells?” Kate asked.
Lucy closed her eyes. Too much. She opened them as Char eased herself carefully off of the bed.
“Just a combination of heat, running around too much, and emotional stress,” Lucy said, looking away from Kate’s assessing gaze. It was partially the truth. He had said those things.
“You’re used to temperatures in South America, and this heat bothered you?” Char asked. Lucy sat carefully. Kate put her hand on Lucy’s gown-covered thigh. Lucy pushed it away.
“I’m fine,” Lucy snapped. There was a razor edge to her voice that she knew didn’t hide the tears, but at least it shut her sisters up, for now. Mark pushed the pale blue curtain aside, making the little chain links on the top bar rattle. Lucy picked up the tepid water they had brought earlier and sipped.
“Car is out front. I didn’t see Alex,” Mark said. He looked at all three girls. No one said a word. Lucy stood, waving both of her sisters away. “I’ll wait in the car,” Mark said.
Once the dizzy spell had passed and the nausea had abated, she felt fine. The hospital had been more of a precaution, and it made her feel stupid. She sat in the front seat of Char’s car, staring out the window, wrecked. Char pulled up to the house and Lucy noted that Alex’s car was nowhere to be seen. Kate’s gasp of surprise redirected her attention. Luke stood on the porch with Mia in his arms and Carmen by his side. Carmen was holding her grandmother’s hand. Lucy got out of the car, oblivious to everything else, and walked to her mom. She stood in front of her and looked down at Carmen.
“I brought Grandma outside because she was worried. But she needs to hold my hand,” Carmen said in her no-nonsense tone.
“That makes sense,” Lucy said quietly, her throat raw but not nearly so much as her heart. She looked at her mom, who tilted her head slightly before reaching out and touching Lucy’s cheek. Lucy’s tears fell without warning, and she stepped into her mom, who pulled her tightly into a one-armed hug. Carmen kept a hold on her grandmother’s hand, but Lucy felt the other touch Lucy’s back, making them a circle. The hug, the moment, made Lucy think that maybe, one day, she might be okay. But it wouldn’t be today.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Alex lived off of coffee, anger, and self-pity for the next forty-eight hours. He didn’t go home after the hospital. He’d driven to the station, poured through the vandalism pictures, growled at anyone who spoke to him, and did everything humanly possible to avoid thinking about Lucy. Nothing worked. He kept seeing her face in the moment she’d realized what he’d been saying. He saw her falling to the floor. He saw her lying lifeless on his bedroom floor. Laying full of life in his bed. Laying underneath him … over him. He saw her lips moving, telling him she loved him. He saw her tears. Tears he caused. He saw her on the gurney as they put her in the ambulance, and he saw Kate’s profile when she told him that Lucy didn’t want to see him. What he couldn’t see, was how he would get over this. Over her. Past this. He couldn’t fucking breathe without her.
“Hey,” Sam said, startling Alex from his brooding at his office window. Sam looked normal. Happy. How were people still functioning when he couldn’t breathe, and how the hell could this hurt so bad?
“Hey. Thanks for coming by,” Alex said.
“You look like shit,” Sam said, opening Alex’s mini fridge and pulling out a coke. He cracked it open and took a long drink. Alex didn’t know where to start. So he told him about the phone call, the fight, and the hospital. Sam whistled, shook his head, and sat down in Alex’s chair while Alex stayed where he was at the window.
“No wonder you look like hell. Is she okay?” Sam asked, feet up on Alex’s desk.
“Yes, as far as I know. She was released from the hospital. Doc wouldn’t tell me much; he said she was released because I used my badge.” Alex sighed and scraped his fingers along his scalp. He went to the fridge and got his own drink.
“You want her back?” Sam asked. Alex gave him a nasty look that revealed the stupidity of the question. Sam laughed it off with the ease of a long-time friend and lowered his feet. “Okay. Just checking. Want my advice?”
“Will it be any good?” Alex asked, taking a drink and wishing he had a bottle of scotch in his drawer. “Which one of us is getting married?”
“Right,” Alex scoffed, “that makes you an expert.” But he waited and listened when Sam spoke. “Get some knee pads,” Sam said gravely.
“What?”
“You’re going to be on your knees groveling for a while, so it’s best to be comfortable,” Sam said. At the huge grin on his face, Alex slammed his drink down, making bits of it splash and fizz out of the opening.
“Fuck you. You don’t have to enjoy this,” Alex replied. His shoulders sagged.
“Come on. Don’t be like that. Seriously, man. You are going to have to beg for forgiveness. You need to pull out all the stops. You want Lucy back, you need to turn yourself inside out and prove it. Show her that you know her, that you get her. Prove to her that you’ve changed—whatever you have to do. I can tell you from having things almost go south with Anna, laying yourself bare is scary as hell, but worth it if it works.”
Alex mulled over what Sam had said. He had already come to those conclusions, which was why he had asked Sam to stop by in the first place. “I need your help,” Alex admitted.
“You got it,” Sam replied.
Lucy didn’t expect miracles, but she had
thought by the third day home from the hospital, something would stop hurting. People fell in and out of love all of the time. She’d been to Hollywood and she read the magazines. How did they do this? How could anyone survive this churning and devastation that swirled inside of her heart and her head? How did she move beyond Alex seeing her just as everyone else did?
The sun was shining through her bedroom window, reminding her that the world still rotated and everyone in it was still functioning. Knowing that didn’t entice her to participate. The spot on her bed was too cozy. It needed the weight of her, and she thought that getting up would take too much effort. Kate walked in without knocking. Lucy moved only her eyes. Kate tilted her head, and Lucy would have punched her for the look of pity, but again, the effort. Kate wore a white, oversized, collared-shirt-dress that hung to her knees. She’d paired it with a wide brown belt and boots. Lucy wondered how she’d missed her sister’s real passion all this time. Kate carried a brown cardboard box from Kinko’s. Lucy closed her eyes. She knew what that was.
“Get up. Looking at hot men always helps,” Kate said. She came to the bed and pushed Lucy’s curled-up legs so that her feet fell off the edge of the bed.
“When did you become so bossy? You’re acting like Char,” Lucy grumbled. But she also sat up and ran a finger part way through her hair, getting it caught on the tangles. She sighed and leaned her head on Kate’s shoulder.
“You adore Char, so I’ll take that as a compliment. Have you talked to him?” Kate asked. Lucy took the box and ignored the question. “Let me see my handy work.”
The calendars were beautiful. The front had a great shot of all the guys playing basketball on the court behind the almost-finished rec center. They were laughing and smiling. Sam was up in the air, making a shot, and Alex was guarding him at the net. Lucy inhaled slowly, painfully, certain she could hear the crumbling inside of her chest.
“You sure you want to look?” Kate asked with more gentleness than Lucy could stomach. She stood up and put the box on the bed.
She couldn’t look at them with an audience. “I need a shower. You check them and make sure everything is alright. We’ll go over to the rec center when I’m done, okay?” Lucy said, pulling fresh clothes out of her dresser. Kate came over and wrapped her in her arms. Lucy let herself be hugged for a few seconds before she firmed her shoulders and her resolve.
“I’ll meet you downstairs,” Kate said. Lucy nodded and headed for the shower.
Under the hot spray, the scent of vanilla shampoo surrounding her, Lucy sobbed, hoping that the water would wash away the pain and the empty ache. The hardest part, other than him not believing in her—in them—was knowing that even if—when—she got through this, she would never fully be over him. He would always be part of her.
Sitting in his car outside his dad’s house, far enough away that he wasn’t immediately visible, Alex barely recognized himself. Here he was, spying on his own father because he couldn’t shake the feeling that somehow, all of the trouble was connected to him. Sometimes, people weren’t who you thought they were. He hadn’t turned out to be who’d Lucy thought he was—hell, who he had thought he was. His phone buzzed. His hope was squashed immediately when he saw Sam’s text: Just checked it out. Should be easy enough. Won’t take more than a couple of days. You owe me.
Yeah, he owed him, even if his plan didn’t work. Alex slouched down a bit, pushed his seat back, and felt the last few days catching up with him. His eyelids were heavy, and even with the windows open, so was the heat. Without warning, his dad came out of his house, springing down the front stairs, headed to his aging Durango. Hopping in, he backed out of his driveway, forcing Alex to sit up and shake off the heat. Though he didn’t feel good about it, he started his car and tailed Chuck from a safe distance.
“Where the hell are you going?” Alex mumbled after he had followed behind for about ten minutes. Older homes lined the street, along with the cars people parked in front of those homes. Alex knew a few people who lived in the decent neighborhood that was just south of the main area of town. In his gut, he knew, but he didn’t want to admit it or face it without proof.
Sure enough, Chuck pulled up to the curb outside of a little bungalow that was older, but well cared for. Painted a bright, cheerful yellow, it had multicolored window boxes brimming with a rainbow of flowers. It suited its owner perfectly. Said owner must have been watching for his dad because she came bouncing out of the house, her hair not moving with her exaggerated, high-heeled steps. She had a leopard skin purse the size of a suitcase slung over her shoulder and even from where he sat, parked down the street, Alex could see she was wearing fishnet stockings. He didn’t know they still made those for anything other than Halloween costumes. As they moved closer to each other, Alex groaned out loud.
“Don’t do it. Stop. Please don’t. Arrrg,” he groused, slapping his hand hard on the steering wheel. Through squinted eyes, he watched as his dad embraced Dolores in a so-much-more-than-friends hug and then kissed her like he was going on leave for a month. Alex was suddenly grateful that he hadn’t eaten much in the last few days because with what he was watching, he had a feeling it would have come back to bite him.
The rec center was ready. It needed a good cleaning—construction crews weren’t known for their tidy cleanups. Still, they had gotten most of the work done at cost, so Lucy wasn’t complaining and neither was Kate. Her sister had an exam that evening, and Lucy had told her she would walk home. Kate had protested, but Lucy insisted, saying the fresh air would make her feel better. It did, particularly in that moment, when day was turning to evening. When the air cooled but wasn’t cold. When the heat lifted slightly and the slight breeze moved in from the lake, funneling around her, thanks to the mountains.
It surprised her that, even with the sadness that had taken up residence inside of her heart and her mind, she had no urge to leave. In fact, she was thinking about getting a place of her own. She would need one. She certainly didn’t want to live with her parents forever, and she needed to start making some plans. As she walked past the Sheriff’s station, she kept her eyes down, watching her footsteps. She couldn’t avoid him forever, but she didn’t have to see him now. She would have to talk to him again, but it didn’t have to be today. She kicked a stone in her path and decided to pick up some dessert from Bean’s Bakery.
Opening the door, she held it for the high-haired woman that was coming out with a delicious smelling pie. Dolores might be stuck in the eighties, but she seemed like a sweet woman, and just the sight of her made her think of Alex and his funny stories about Dolores and the station.
“Well, hey there. Heard you weren’t feeling too well,” Dolores said, a wide smile on her pink lips. Lucy continued to hold the door.
“Oh, I’m okay. Just a dizzy spell and everyone overreacted,” Lucy said, shrugging and feeling the need to escape before his name was said. “I’ve never seen Alex so beside himself. He was positively sick with worry,” Dolores crooned. Lucy’s heart cracked at the sound of his name. “I’m fine. Really.”
Dolores smiled at her like they had some sort of secret understanding. Then her eyes widened. “Are you still looking for donations for the auction?” Dolores asked.
Lucy felt silly standing there with the door open. She caught Bean’s eye from behind Dolores’s back and stifled a small giggle at the baker’s talks-too-much gesture.
“Of course. Do you have something? I’m trying to get everything together by Friday morning,” Lucy said.
“My son is an artist and, I know I’m his mama, but my boy has talent. Serious talent. I would be thrilled to donate a few of his pieces. He’s shy about offering his work, but I just keep telling him he needs to get it out there,” Dolores gushed.
Lucy wasn’t sure what kind of cash value a painting from Dolores’s son would bring, but every artist started somewhere, so she was happy to agree.
Dolores moved out of the doorway finally, and Lucy gave up, letting the door close an
d ignoring Bean’s wide smirk from behind the counter. She was middle-aged, blunt, and very funny. Lucy always wondered if ‘Bean’ was a nickname. Dolores pushed her pie at Lucy, who had no choice but to accept, then dug in her large, animal print bag.
“You come choose one or two pieces, okay? What am I saying? I can just give them to Alex, and he can give them to you,” she said, laughing too hard and starting to put her pen away.
“No!” Lucy said forcefully then took a deep breath and tried to smile. “Just write your address. I’ll come pick them up tomorrow night.” Dolores gave her an odd look but didn’t question Lucy further. She wrote her address down on the back of a receipt and traded it for the pie. “Thanks for doing this,” Dolores said.
“Thank you. Are you coming to the gala?”
“I absolutely am. I have this gorgeous sequined dress that has just been begging for a night out,” the enthusiastic blonde told her. Lucy smiled and bit her tongue.
By the time Dolores finally walked away, pie in hand, Lucy had lost her appetite for dessert. The only thing she had an appetite for was Alex. But, like dessert, she was probably better off without.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Lucy sat on the porch step in the moonlight and thought about the night she’d come home. She’d been so tired and ready for a break. Africa had been wonderful, and she had especially enjoyed the last village, but it had made her crave her own village. Her own family. The night air was cool, a welcome reprieve from the heat she had felt in her bedroom, even with the window open. So she’d crept down the stairs like she had throughout her teenage years, past her parents’ bedroom, and eased the door open to sit on the steps. She looked at Alex’s house. She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen his truck in the driveway. She wondered if Furball was lonely. Nowhere near as lonely as she was.