Shades of Blue

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Shades of Blue Page 15

by Karen Kingsbury


  “I remember.” The look in Laura’s eyes changed a little. “The one you grew up with.”

  “Right.” He shifted. “Her.” For a moment he looked up through the trees, as if the sliver of blue sky beyond might somehow lighten the moment. But wide open broad sunlight wouldn’t lift the mood here. He rubbed his free hand against his knee. “I didn’t tell you everything about her.”

  Again Laura stayed quiet, her fingers cold despite the warm morning.

  His stomach hurt and he wanted to erase everything that led to this moment. If he had it to do over he wouldn’t have taken Emma to Holden Beach at all. Then there wouldn’t have been a past to talk about. No August nights full of regret. No baby. No abortion. No reason to be anything but joyful here, five weeks before marrying his sweet Laura. Inside his chest, he could almost feel his heart growing heavier.

  He had no choice but to say it. “Emma and I … we let things get out of hand the last summer we were together. The summer after I graduated from high school. We had …” He looked down at the ground between his feet. “We had every intention of staying pure. Really we did.” He shook his head and lifted his eyes to hers. “But we didn’t. We gave in.”

  Gradually Laura’s fear gave way to a look of disbelief. “What?” It was a whisper. “You’re not …” She sat straighter, and in the process her hand broke free from his. “You slept with her?”

  Another long sigh. Brad pictured his time with Emma on the beach, the way she was surprised and hurt that the moment was over so fast. They hardly slept together, but that wasn’t what Laura meant. He nodded. “I did.”

  “Once?”

  Her question flew at him, piercing him like an arrow through his soul. And this was only the beginning. Her questions were going to get more difficult for sure. He clenched his jaw. “A few times. Over the month of August.”

  Brad tried to fathom how this news was hitting Laura. It was one thing to realize that the man you were about to marry wasn’t really a virgin. But to realize the fall wasn’t one indiscretion, but a series of bad choices? He shuddered, not sure what to say next.

  Laura allowed a few slow nods. Then she raised her brow and shook her head, the way someone might do after a blow to the temple. Her voice simmered with anger and betrayal. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  His only answer seemed cheap even to him. “You didn’t ask.” He dug his elbows into his knees. “So I didn’t offer.” He locked eyes with her again. “I tried to forget about it. I wanted my past to be like yours. If I could change it I would.”

  “You think I wouldn’t have dated you if you’d been honest?” Pain hung on every word.

  “I don’t know. I’m not the same guy I was back then.” He felt defeated. “I wanted you to see me the way I am now.”

  Laura stared at him for a long time. Then she stood and crossed the path, keeping her back to him. Brad wasn’t sure whether to go to her or stay seated. If she needed time to sort through her feelings, he understood. After nearly a minute she faced him again and slowly returned to her spot on the bench. “Is there more?”

  With his whole heart, Brad wanted to say no. He stared at the ground again and muttered the words, “Yes. There is.”

  She bent over her knees and braced herself, as if she wasn’t sure how much more she could take.

  “Sometime in November, toward the end of November, Emma took a test and found out … she was pregnant.”

  Laura closed her eyes. “You mean …” she blinked and stared at him. Her expression had gone from shocked to horrified. “You’re … you’re a father?”

  The question ripped through him. “No.” He breathed out and willed the pain to go with it. But there was no way to minimize the truth, no way to feel less of the hurt. “I’m not a father.” He thought about blaming their age or the school nurse or a culture that would endorse abortion in the first place. But if he was going to reckon with his past, he had to start by claiming it. “I … drove her to a clinic.” The words sounded so foreign, the memory so far removed from his conscious thought, that he didn’t recognize his voice. “I paid and she … she had an abortion.”

  An audible groan came from Laura and she covered her face with her hands. She stayed that way for a long time, and when her hands dropped away, there were tears on her face. “I guess … I mean I’m not sure what to say.”

  He had no idea what to expect, but he half hoped she would tell him she was sorry, that she could only imagine the sort of pain his past must have caused him. Not that he deserved that reaction. He didn’t deserve anything about Laura James. “May 15 would’ve been the birthday, and so …”

  A dawning flashed in her eyes. “Kotton Kids.” She looked away. “No wonder.”

  “Yeah.” His heart beat hard in anticipation of what was next. “It started that day and by the next night nothing felt right.”

  “About us.” Her tone was dead, her expression too shocked to react.

  “Of course not.” He raised his voice just a little, then he moved for her hand again, but he changed his mind. “About me, the way I treated Emma back then.” He found her eyes and willed her to understand. “I never told her I was sorry. I never made things right.”

  “She had an abortion, Brad. There’s no way to make that right.”

  “I talked to a friend of mine. A Christian counselor. He said when it’s possible, making amends with someone can be the first step toward healing.”

  “Making amends?” Laura looked pale, like she might not survive what she was hearing.

  “I don’t know how else to say it.” He stuffed his frustration. He had to find a way through this. “Anyway … I went back to North Carolina to talk to my dad and his advice was exactly how I was feeling.” He pictured his dad, gripping the metal detector, intent on the targets beneath the sand. “He told me the last lines to that chapter in my life weren’t written yet.” He hesitated, but he was gaining conviction. The last thing he wanted was to hurt Laura. But he needed to do this. “I have to find her so I can at least apologize. So I can close that chapter before I start the next one. With you.”

  Slowly, Laura sat up straight again. She leaned against the back of the bench and slumped a little, her eyes vacant. “You’re going back to her?”

  He forced himself to sound patient. “Not like that. Only to do what I should’ve done when I left her.”

  “So,” she turned to him and fire flashed in her eyes for the first time since they took the park bench. “Let me see if I have this right. You’re not the guy I thought you were. You slept with your old girlfriend and got her pregnant. And you paid for her abortion. Now you want to take a few days and find her so you can tell her you’re sorry? The way you should’ve before?” She was deliberate, her anger barely contained. “Five weeks before our wedding? Is that right?”

  “I should’ve done all this a long time ago.” He hoped maybe her careful, drawn-out analysis was for clarity, but he figured it was more in disbelief. “I can’t move forward, Laura. Not without finishing what I left behind.”

  Laura’s anger faded and again her eyes gradually filled with tears. She stared at her knees for several seconds and then breathed deep in a way that seemed to restore some inner strength. “Okay.” Her voice was tight, strained to the breaking point. “I won’t stand in your way.” She pressed her fingers beneath her eyes, brushing away her tears. “I only wish we hadn’t sent the invitations.”

  It took a few heartbeats to understand what she was saying. “Wait …” Brad put his hand on her shoulder and shook his head. “I’m not calling off the wedding. Not at all.”

  She paused long enough to collect herself. When she finally spoke, her voice was calm, more certain. “Maybe I am.”

  Brad sat back against the arm of the bench. He had dreaded this conversation and planned for it, thought it through and prayed about it. But for some crazy reason he hadn’t once seen this coming. “Are … you serious?”

  Her single laugh lacked any humor. “What
do you think, Brad? I mean … I could live with the things you just told me. If I’d known from the beginning, we could’ve worked through the sad pieces of your past. But there are two details I’m not sure I can see past. Not in five weeks, anyway.”

  He waited, but he thought he probably already knew what she was going to say.

  “You lied to me. You let me believe something about you that wasn’t true, and you kept up the lie since we met. Four years, Brad. That’s a long time to keep up a lie. And if I could handle that, there’s the other reality.” More tears filled her eyes. “You’re going back to her.”

  “Not like that. I never — ”

  “Please.” She held up her hand. “Let me finish.” Her chin trembled, twisting her face from the sorrow consuming her. “You’re going back. Who’s to say what happens when you find her?”

  Brad was ready for this. “Emma and I barely talked the last few months we were together. Neither of us has feelings for the other. That’s not what this is — ”

  “Stop.” She cut him off again, her voice more controlled. “You said that. But if you’re thinking about her, this close to marrying me … maybe your feelings for her are stronger than you think. Maybe you’ll reconnect and realize you’ve fallen in love with her again.” Laura squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her fingers to her lips for a moment. When she opened them, her look was pure heartbreak. “You’ve known her since fourth grade, Brad. You could fall for her again and you know it.”

  “I couldn’t.” He felt suddenly desperate to convince her. This wasn’t about some rekindled love for Emma. His voice rose with the passion of his conviction. “I don’t love her. I love you. Please. Don’t do this.” He stood, paced three steps, and then turned and walked back to her. “I want to marry you, Laura. I’m trying to be the right guy here. I made terrible mistakes in the past and I never told you. That was wrong.” His words were as intense as they’d been since the conversation began. “I couldn’t go another day letting you think the wrong thing about me. I don’t want to marry you when I haven’t been honest.” He pressed his fist to his chest. “When I stand on that altar telling the world I love only you, I don’t want any reason to look back. Not one.”

  An occasional tear still fell on her cheek, but she was listening, holding tight to every word.

  “Sure, I wish I’d done this years ago. But marrying you is a beginning. The best beginning.” He thought once more about taking hold of her hand, but he wasn’t sure she’d let him. Instead he took a step closer. “What kind of man am I if I don’t apologize to Emma … for what I put her through?”

  “You were a teenager.”

  “Yes, but I handled everything wrong. I can’t move on without dealing with that, without making sure she’s okay.” As soon as he said those last words, he regretted them.

  Laura’s eyes grew harder than before. “Her?”

  “And you too. All of us.” Brad’s frustration pushed his voice louder than before. “Look, I love you and I want to marry you. Please don’t call off the wedding.”

  She waited a long time before she answered. Then a weariness settled in around Laura’s eyes and mouth. “I’ll wait till you come back.” Her look pierced him to the depths of his heart. “But in my mind it’s on hold. Come back and look me in the eyes and tell me you’re really over her. Then we can talk about the wedding.”

  It took a few seconds for him to process what she’d just said. Hope soared through him, hope mixed with sorrow for what he was doing to her. Without hesitating he reached for her hands, and this time she responded. He eased her to her feet and looped his arms around her waist. She was stiffer than usual, but she stayed, their eyes fixed on each other. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Laura. None of this is fair to you, and I know it.” He stared at the far-off skyline, waiting for strength to continue. He found her eyes again. “I’m asking for your mercy … and your forgiveness. Two things I don’t deserve.”

  She hugged him, but somehow the gesture felt like it came from a stranger. When she released him she looked defeated but more composed. “I need time, Brad. This is a lot for one day.”

  His hope evaporated again. Her faith was stronger than almost anyone he knew. But her forgiveness would not come easily. That much was obvious.

  “Let’s walk. I want to go home.” She backed out of the hug and took a few steps. She crossed her arms tightly, but she waited for him so they could walk side by side even if they didn’t hold hands.

  The walk back was marked by silence. She needed time. What more was there to say? When they reached the firm, Laura bid him a hasty good-bye and she was gone. Brad watched her leave, and he had the horrible feeling he was free-falling, tumbling into an abyss with no way of knowing when he’d hit bottom. He didn’t blame Laura for wanting time. In some ways his actions were borderline insane. But he had to be honest both to himself and her. Otherwise the past would haunt him, distract him from everything wonderful about marrying Laura.

  A realization hit him. He had to be honest with someone else too, the one man who Brad dreaded facing more than any other. If he was going to make a change, if he was to be successful in dealing with his past, then even that most difficult conversation would have to take place.

  But until Laura had brought it up, there was one part of the journey ahead he hadn’t wanted to think about, wouldn’t let himself acknowledge. The idea that if he found Emma, he might find his feelings for her too. The possibility might have scared Laura, but now it suddenly terrified him. He could downplay Emma’s role in his life, but that didn’t change the reality. They had grown up together, and for most of his childhood and teenage years he couldn’t have imagined marrying anyone but her.

  He’d told Laura the truth this time. The whole truth. He had no plans to linger around Emma Landon or spend more time with her than necessary. He wished there were another way to make things right with her — a letter or an email. But that wouldn’t allow him to look in her eyes and make sure she absolutely knew how wrong he’d been. How sorry he was. He would have to keep his guard up, for sure. As long as he did, he wanted to believe that Laura was wrong. There was no possibility he would have feelings for Emma once he found her. Even if his search took him back to Holden Beach. But Laura had reminded him of something he would have to remember as he sought to find her in the coming days, a truth he couldn’t deny.

  He had loved Emma first.

  Fifteen

  EMMA MISSED HER MOM, MISSED HER the way she hadn’t in years. Maybe because it was Monday and her kids had to hear the news that Kristin Palazzo was sick. Very sick. Or maybe because she’d taken a risk and told Gavin the story she hadn’t shared with anyone. Talking about what happened reminded her of everything about that time. She’d thought about it a lot since then and the truth was clearer than ever. If her mom hadn’t been sick she might’ve done things differently. She might be a mom today.

  Again the school hours passed quickly — another day closer to summer and telling her students good-bye. Emma pulled into her driveway after a day at school, the sun hot on her shoulders. She cut the engine, stepped out, left the convertible top down, and went inside. Summer. That might be it. She missed her mom more in the summer, when the days stretched out and her loneliness was sometimes unbearable.

  “Hey Riley … here, boy.” She watched him thud down the hall, the cats in tow like always. “Want a snack, buddy?” She patted his head and scratched behind his ears and did the same to her cats. Then she led them into the kitchen, Pied Piper of her solitary household. A dog treat for Riley and a pouch of kibble for the cats to share, but still Emma didn’t feel like herself. Her mom had been her best friend in those final years after Brad left. An afternoon like this, she wanted just one more day with her. One more hour.

  Emma leaned against the kitchen counter, her back to the window. She could take the missing her out to the beach, pound it out of her system with a long run. But she had a feeling running wouldn’t touch the ache inside her. Not today.
She poured a glass of water and made up her mind while she drank it. The cemetery. That’s where she needed to go. Her mom was buried at an old tree-lined cemetery just off the interstate, this side of Wilmington. The drive would take forty minutes, and maybe it would help clear her head.

  She waited until Riley finished his bone, then she hooked a leash on him. “Come on, boy … let’s take a ride.” She led him out to the car and he leaped onto the front passenger seat. She looped his leash around a hook on the inside of the car door and they set out. Usually Emma would talk to Riley as they drove, but not today. She was lost in a place and time where her mother was alive and Brad was still a possibility.

  Halfway there she stopped and bought red roses from a roadside stand. They reached the cemetery and Emma found her familiar parking place, just a fifteen-yard walk from her mother’s grave. On this side of the quiet cemetery, no one would mind if she had Riley with her. Besides, dogs were allowed as long as they were on a leash. A cement bench sat close to her mom’s tombstone — a gift from Emma’s grandmother. Engraved on a metal nameplate were the words, “Jean Catherine Landon — loving daughter, devoted mother.” Beneath that were her mother’s birth and death dates. Emma sat Riley by the bench, then she walked the few steps to the marker. The wording etched into the light gray marble was the same as on the bench.

  Emma didn’t come here often. With her mother’s deep faith, certainly she wasn’t relegated to some underground grave. She was alive in heaven — that much Emma was sure of. But being here sometimes helped the memories come a little easier. Emma stooped down and brushed a few stray grass clippings and a layer of dusty dirt off the stone.

  Carefully she laid the roses on the grave. Her mom had loved flowers … red roses especially. “Mom … you should be here.”

  The memories called to her, surrounding her and comforting her with the peace of the familiar. As they did, everything about those years came to life again. Her mother’s pale face and cheerful voice, the way the house smelled faintly of her lavender lotion when she was alive.

 

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