Junk

by Komal Kant

  Years had gone by, but that didn’t make me feel any surer about returning to the life I had left behind.

  I had let a woman destroy me.

  “Wade, you are one of the strongest people I know.” The tenderness in my mom’s tone was comforting. “What Penelope did to you was terrible, but you can’t let yourself fade away because of that devil woman.”

  “But-” I started to say.

  “No buts.” Mom’s tender tone turned fierce. “I didn’t raise you to be a quitter. Pull yourself together, son. Put the bottle down. Pick up the pieces.”

  “Yer mother’s damn right.” Dad appeared in the doorway, a deep frown coloring his face. “I didn’t raise you to give up on something you worked so hard to get in the first place. Yer successful and yer smart and you got the looks that make woman weak in the knees, kinda like I do.”

  Mom rolled her eyes at him. “What your father’s trying to say is, you are greater than your past mistakes. You’ve had so much success; don’t give up now.”

  “We’ll always be here. We ain’t goin’ nowhere,” Dad said, his tone serious. “But it’s time for you to face your true life.”

  My true life.

  My true self.

  Sure, I had been born Wade Welsecky, but I would die Harlen Walker.

  A small town, Midwestern teenager who’d been laughed out of auditions for having too strong of an accent. A struggling actor in Hollywood no one wanted to take a chance on.

  My parents were right. It was time for me to confront my fears. My legacy would not be defined by a woman who had betrayed me.

  If only this epiphany had struck a day earlier.

  “How am I gonna do that now with that damn pack of rats out there?” I asked, getting to my feet.

  “We’ve got it covered.” There was a twinkle in Dad’s eyes. “You just pack a bag. Don’t forget your passport.”

  Mom rose to her feet. “I’ll help you.”

  As Dad left the room, I attempted to throw my necessities into one bag. Clothes. Shoes. A couple of books.

  Something was missing.

  When I cast a glance around the room, my eyes finally landed on him. There he lay, watching me with loyal eyes. I was forgetting the one thing I couldn’t just pack into a bag and make a quick getaway with.

  Achilles.

  “Hey, buddy,” I said, approaching him as my heart crumbled.

  Achilles wagged at me; excitement lit up his face as I sat cross-legged in front of him and scratched his ears, fighting back the stinging in my eyes.

  Of all the things to make me hesitate, it was this goofy, bumbling dog. I’d gotten him three years ago, just a three-month puppy back then, when I’d first escaped from L.A.

  Richard Wilkinson, the guy my sister had been seeing at the time, hadn’t wanted him—he’d had a cleft palate which had been too expensive to fix and was scheduled to be put down. Delilah told me about it, insisted that I needed to meet this little guy and save his life.

  Achilles ended up being someone for me to take care of, someone to keep me company each and every lonely night. In the end, he’d ended up saving me. How could I leave him behind, even for a day?

  Mom was folding some shirts for me when she looked around and caught sight of the two of us. “We’ll take care of him until you’re ready to take him, Wade. Lord knows he’s the only grandchild you kids will probably ever give me, even if he is just a furry one.”

  Despite the situation, I snorted.

  Giving Achilles one final squeeze, I rose to my feet and gathered a few random items before zipping up the duffel bag we’d packed. There wasn’t a lot in it, but I didn’t need much.

  With heavy feet, I turned out of the room and down the hall, Mom and Achilles following behind me.

  Everyone turned to us as we walked in, and I noticed the addition of an extra person—Emme.

  My small cabin felt overcrowded right now.

  “You got everything you need?” Dad asked.

  I nodded. “Yeah, I think so.”

  “Good.” Edgars said, stepping forward. “Because Blair has a plan.”

  Blair? What?

  When I turned to her, she fidgeted with her fingers uncomfortably. “Uh.”

  “Go on, tell him,” Delilah ordered, nudging her with a shoulder.

  “Okay.” Blair took a deep breath. “So, we’re going to create a diversion.”

  “A diversion?” I asked, confused. “How? They know I’m in here and there’s only one way out. The front door.”

  “Actually,” Harris spoke up, “you’re forgetting about the side door that leads into the shop.” He gestured at the door off to the side of the kitchen that I’d blocked with a chair, so he couldn’t get in earlier.

  Kind of a dick move now that I thought about it.

  “We asked Emme to bring some items,” Blair continued, walking over to the counter where a grocery bag sat. She pulled out two things—a brown wig and a brown beard.

  How was that going to-?

  I stared at her, realizing her plan. “You’re gonna dress someone up like me.”

  Blair nodded. “Yes, probably Cole. You guys have a similar enough height and build.”

  As Blair said all this, my eyes drifted over to Cole. His expression was inscrutable. Things were rough between my brother and me. I’d said some shit to him on the phone that I shouldn’t have said. I couldn’t blame him if he didn’t want to help me.

  Everyone could sense the tension between us.

  Edgars shifted uneasily. “Cole?”

  “I don’t know how believable that’s gonna be,” Cole said slowly. “I’m way more muscular than Wade. They’ll never buy it.” His stony expression slipped. He didn’t hate me.

  “You’re so full of shit,” I said, cracking a smile.

  Blair seemed relieved that we weren’t biting each other’s heads off. “Cole, get that stuff on. When you’re done, everyone is going to rush you outside. Try to shield his face as best as you can. Drive Cole in the opposite direction that Wade’s going in.”

  I had to admit, it was a pretty good plan.

  Everyone nodded as Emme and Delilah walked over to Cole to help him get ready.

  “Any questions?” Blair asked, glancing around the room.

  “Yeah,” Drew piped up. “Where is Wade going?”

  “Nearest airport,” I responded. “Then back to L.A.”

  “That’s huge,” Drew remarked, eyes wide.

  There was nothing to say. It was huge, but it was the only way I could escape the paparazzi. They knew I’d been hiding out here, that’s why I couldn’t return. I still had no idea how they knew.

  It wasn’t Blair.

  It wasn’t Cole.

  Maybe it’d been Krystle. Maybe I’d rejected her one too many times.

  Maybe it’d been one of the members of the Dick Trio. They’d always had it in for me

  I guess I’d never know now.

  “Okay, Cole’s ready to go,” Blair announced, stepping aside to reveal my brother.

  Cole looked like a rougher version of me, as if someone was making a parody video and could only afford the most basic props. The wig was too long and shaggy and the beard looked like it had been made from back hair.

  “Jesus, Emme,” I said, aghast, “tell me what you really think of my looks.”

  “This was all I could find at such short notice!” she snapped, then mumbled under breath, “I think it’s pretty close.”

  No one in the room laughed out loud, but I could see the ridiculousness of Cole’s appearance had lightened things up a little.

  “Does everyone know what they have to do?” Blair asked, trying very hard to hide her smile.

  We all nodded in unison, preparing to face the madness outside.

  Tears ran down Delilah’s face as she threw herself into my arms. “I love you, I love you,” she sobbed into my shoulder. “Please take care of yourself. Call me if you feel the urge to drink. Just let this be your last day, Wade,
please.” Her deep blue eyes searched mine, and I nodded in response, too choked up to speak.

  One by one, everyone said their goodbyes.

  Harris gave me a tight squeeze. “I’ll try to come see you soon, brother.”

  Emme gave me a soft kiss on the cheek. “Stay safe, Wade.”

  Cole—looking like my demented twin—and I hugged longer than we normally would, and words weren’t necessary. We were brothers. We would always be there for each other.

  “You’re doing the right thing.” Drew placed his hands together and gave me a low bow, and I noticed he wasn’t wearing shoes.

  Edgars was crying almost as much as Delilah was and couldn’t even speak.

  My parents were the last ones to hug me.

  “We’ll see you soon,” Dad said.

  Mom’s lips shook, but she didn’t let a single tear slip her eyes as she told me she loved me. My gaze lingered with hers the longest. Words couldn’t express what she meant to me, but maybe I could convey it in my eyes.

  Finally, everyone, except Drew, Blair, and me, moved towards the front door, leaving me with a hollow echo in my chest. These were the best of people, and I was lucky to have them.

  “Good luck, guys,” Blair told them, before opening the front door and quickly stepping behind it.

  A wave of noise rang out. Shouts of my name filled the air. Rapid flashes lit the night.

  Harlen! Harlen! Over here!

  Then, just as quickly, Blair shut the door behind them, throwing her back against it as she caught her breath,

  “I’m really glad I don’t do that anymore,” she told the empty room.

  “Me too,” Drew commented, slumping into the couch. “It’s bad for your spirit.”

  He wasn’t wrong there.

  “They’re getting in their cars.” Blair was peering out of a gap in the blinds now. “They’re following Cole. I think it worked!”

  “So, now what?” Drew asked.

  Blair spun around, fire in her eyes. “Now, Wade gets the hell out of here. Use the side door. C’mon, move.”

  Her words spurred me into action. With one final pat on Achilles’ head, I picked up my duffel and strode over to the side door, moving the chair out of the way.

  My heart was pounding in my ears as I turned the knob, adrenaline surging through me.

  “Wait!” Blair called out. “Let me go ahead of you, just in case someone’s still out there.”

  “Good idea.” Standing aside, I let her pass through the doorway.

  While I waited for Blair’s confirmation that the coast was clear, I took in my home one last time. The modest cabin that had been in my family for generations, the same place that had given me a second chance to live again.

  It was time for goodbye.

  “Okay, no one’s here! Let’s move!” Blair called.

  Tightening my hand on the strap of my duffel bag, I stepped out into the shop, shutting the door behind me. There were only three vehicles in here. Blair’s. Harris’. Mine.

  Harris had singlehandedly worked on all the cars while I’d pissed my time away getting drunk. Great friend I was.

  Wanting to kick myself for being so self-absorbed, I headed to my truck and unlocked it. As I threw my bag on the back seat, I was mentally preparing myself for what came next.

  Saying goodbye to Blair.

  When I turned back to her, she was silent, hesitance and uncertainty written all over the gorgeous face I had come to love.

  Blair studied me with the same look blazing in her eyes. I knew it, without a doubt in my mind that she felt the same way that I did.

  There were so many things I could say to her in this moment, but there was one thing she needed to hear the most. The one thing that would ease the years of guilt she’d been harboring in her soul.

  “It wasn’t all you.” The walls inside me began to crumble. “Everything was going south way before you stepped into my world.”

  My ex’s hushed phone calls. The late nights she claimed to be working. Someone else’s scent on her skin.

  The signs had all been there—I had just been too full of myself to believe that anyone would cheat on the great Harlen Walker.

  Shock registered on Blair’s face. “Y-you mean, you suspected?”

  “Yes, I suspected,” I told her, lowering my head. “I suspected, but I was too weak to confront her. If I had, your story would never have hit me so deep. But I was in such denial that I refused to face the truth.”

  Blair’s gentle hand slid across my back in comfort. “It’s not your fault.” She rested her head against my shoulder, gazing up at me with rainbow eyes. Was this the last time I’d ever see her again? “It never was. It just wasn’t meant to be.”

  My gaze turned on her, taking in every inch of her face, memorizing every little detail from her full lips to the dimples in her cheeks. “No, not with her.”

  Blair closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath, as if she was inhaling my every word. “What does this all mean, Wade? What does it mean for us?”

  The burning question, and, hell, if I knew the answer.

  “I don’t know.” Rubbing my temple, I glanced out across the twisted scrap yard and out to the lake. “I can see us sitting out here in front of the water, watching the grass swaying in the breeze. I see us together, laughing and fighting and loving until the end of our days.”

  “I want that, too,” Blair pressed herself to me, sending that ripple of life shooting through my body. “So much, Wade, but it’s a dream. I don’t belong here, and neither do you.”

  Blair was right.

  This place wasn’t for us. Maybe for a little while, but not for the rest of our lives.

  “When we leave Pine Bluffs, we each become a part of two worlds that are so different.” It was impossible to keep the sadness from my voice. “Maybe it could work between us, maybe it couldn’t. I don’t have the answers.”

  Blair studied me for a moment, her expression impenetrable. I swear I saw darkness in those eyes, but it could’ve been my imagination.

  “Goodbye, Wade,” she finally said, holding out a hand. It was such an impersonal end to our profound relationship. “I hope everything works out for you.”

  This was it. There was no going back now.

  Grasping her hand in mine, I held onto it longer than I should have. Long enough for that familiar elation to unfurl inside me. “I hope you think of me, Blair Fonseka.”

  “I don’t think I could ever forget you, Wade Welsecky.” Sadness touched her lips.

  When I dropped her hand, my body split in two. Dazed, I walked over to the truck and got in—everything was hazy and unclear.

  Every inch of me screamed at me to stop. To go back to her. To give her a different response.

  But I didn’t.

  Blair’s crumbling face was the last thing I saw before I got into her my truck and drove out into the dust.

  LAX WAS AS UNPLEASANT AS ever.

  The only upside was that no one recognized me. The bearded guy dressed in the red, flannel shirt and worn, grease-stained jeans was of no interest to the paparazzi idling outside.

  As I hailed a cab, I caught the eye of one of them, a particularly savage pap who worked for MTZ, a tabloid channel that prided itself in capturing female celebrities flashing their crotches.

  Animal.

  Giving him a nod which he didn’t return, I got into my taxi, feeling pleased that I’d fooled him. That guy had gone out of his way to catch my ex-wife and me in the worst scenarios. Any fights, any weight gain, any bad days, you name it, and he’d been there to capture it.

  Penelope hadn’t cared as much as I had, but to her any publicity was good publicity.

  “Where you headed?” the taxi driver asked, as the heavy scent of cigarettes hit me.

  Without pause, I gave him the address, screwing up my face at the smell. It never made any damn sense to me why people smoked in their vehicles.

  The driver raised thick, dark brows at me in the re
arview mirror. “Are you sure that’s the right place?”

  Confused, I gave him a nod. “Yeah.”

  The taxi remained stationary, but the driver turned in his seat. “You’re telling me you want me to take you to this mansion in Beverly Hills. You?”

  It hit me right then that I looked like shit and this guy probably thought I was sketchy as fuck.

  “Uh, yeah.” I wracked my brain for the perfect cover. It had been years, but I knew how to put on an act. Settling on a character, I relaxed into the seat. “I’m the gardener there. Had to go out of town for a grass convention.”

  The driver eyeballed me, disbelief creeping onto his face. “A grass convention?”

  “Yeah, Ms. Roberts is a freak about the kinda grass growing on her property,” I said with a straight face. “Apparently, it’s some imported French grass that smells like jasmine.”

  For a second, I thought my bluff hadn’t worked. Then the driver made a ‘pffft’ sound and turned back to the front. “These Hollywood types, I tell ya. Always wasting their money on fancy schmancy crap.”

  With that, he pulled away from the curb and drove out of the bustling airport terminal where crowds of people stood with the usual assortment of expressions I’d come to expect from travelers: apprehension, excitement, nerves, exhaustion.

  Those same feelings coursed through me. I had returned to the city that I’d called home for so many years. The city that had made me. The city that had broken me.

  Now, I was back—and I had no idea how this city would treat me.

  The brightness of Los Angeles hit me immediately—the clear, blue sky, the sunny disposition, the signature palm trees lining the street. All the things that had made this Midwestern boy fall in love.

  Reaching over, I pushed the button to roll my window down. The familiar crisp, sea salt air washed over me. The desire to be in the ocean hit me with full force. I had been homesick for L.A. for a long time, dreaming of warm nights on the boardwalk and weekends spent dining at restaurants with samplings from all over the world.

  Hidden beneath the mask of Wade Welsecky, I could bathe in the city I had run away from. I was a nobody, just like I had been the first time I’d set foot here as an eighteen-year-old, with only a modeling portfolio in my hand.