One Good Play

by Meredith St. James

  Wren quietly contributed, "I haven't been advertising our relationship because I didn't want people treating me differently before they'd gotten to know me."

  It took me a second to realize that she was talking about her relationship with her father, not her relationship with me. Wishful thinking on my part, but at least I hoped it was a good sign that she'd spoken to me at all.

  Remembering the waitress' earlier comment, I asked her, "Do you have your dad's last name?"

  "Not technically," Wallace breezily answered for her. He reached over and gave her hand a quick squeeze. "I like to call her Wren Wallace because I like the sound of it, but she goes by her married name."

  I'd thought seeing Wren and Dr. Wallace at a dinner table together was the biggest surprise I was in for that evening. Boy, was I wrong. Nothing could have blindsided me more than those words.

  Wren Harrison.

  Harrison was her married name. Wren was married. She was married and we'd slept together. She'd never even mentioned previous relationships, much less having a husband waiting around for her somewhere.

  I sat there frozen in my chair, certain that Wren would tell me it was a bad joke or at least offer some kind of explanation. Instead, I watched as she downed her entire glass of wine. Wallace was looking between the two of us like we were a particularly difficult crossword puzzle.

  "Oh. The two of you are dating," Wallace finally stated. He seemed unsure of how to handle a situation for the first time since I'd met him.

  I jumped to my feet, unable to sit there any longer. "No, I don't think we are," I spouted off with a humorless laugh. And before Wallace could say anything else—because Wren obviously wasn't going to—I walked away.

  I walked away, and she let me.

  23

  Wren (flashback)

  "Wren?"

  I paused, my wrinkled sundress in my hands as I stood there in only my underwear. Henry was lounging comfortably on top of the sunflower bedspread. When we'd first arrived, we'd had a good laugh about how outdated it was. It was charming though, which was how we knew we were in exactly the right sort of place.

  "Thank you," he said.

  "For what?" I asked softly.

  I discarded my dress back to the floor and crawled across the bed to him. He opened his arms to welcome me into them. I clung to his side, curling up like a cat next to his body heat.

  "For coming back. For being here." His eyes were soft on mine. "I know being stuck in this little bed and breakfast with me isn't nearly as exciting as France or Dubai, or wherever the hell you'd be if you weren't here." His voice was light, teasing, but his words weren't.

  I pressed tighter against him. "I only went to all of those places for you." My hand trailed lazily over his bare chest. He'd been more muscular the first time I'd met him. Time had robbed him of that, but I still thought he was the most handsome man I'd ever known.

  He caught my hand, clasping it into his own. "I know, but I'm glad you went. You made enough memories for the both of us."

  My voice was choked up as I said, "And I always will."

  He took a few precious breaths as he held me silently. Finally, he asked, "Where will you go next?"

  "Wherever you are." I knew I sounded miserable. I felt guilty for it even as the words were leaving my lips.

  "You and I both know that's not possible, Wren."

  The silence fell over us again. I tried to take comfort in his heartbeat, the steadiness of it. Too quickly, the day was coming when there would be no heartbeat left to hear. Henry was dying, and there was nothing I—or anyone else—could do about it. My dad could give me all the money in the world, but none of it would be enough to stop the inevitable. The man I loved was living on borrowed time, and I'd always known it.

  "What if we had more time?" I asked.

  "Wren, don't," he warned.

  I tilted my face up so I could look at him. "I just mean hypothetically. If none of this was happening. If the whole world was ours for the taking, what would we do?"

  "Hmm." He gently stroked my hair away from my face. "For starters, I would have invited a whole hell of a lot more people to our wedding."

  "What? Why?"

  "Because, damn, would it have felt good to gloat to all my old high school buddies about how a dork like me got such a hot piece of ass like you."

  "Hey!" I laughed out in protest. He was always doing that, saying things he knew would make me laugh when the moment was getting dangerously serious.

  We'd had a quiet wedding just the day before. My dad was the only person we'd invited, choosing to intimately tie the knot in the beautiful garden in the backyard of his New York home. Dad had been so worried about me, fretting about my decision to marry a dying man. I'd had to reassure him quietly that the only doubt I'd had was whether or not I was worthy of the man waiting to meet me at the end of the little makeshift aisle we'd created in the garden. A woman couldn't get any luckier than to marry a truly kind and loving man. Even if he wouldn't be there for the rest of life's milestones.

  "How we spend our time matters," Henry had once told me. It had never been truer than when I'd made the decision to come home. I wanted to spend the last days or weeks—however long we had left—with the man I loved.

  As we lay there in what was our honeymoon bed, I begged, "Now give me a real answer."

  He twirled strands of my hair around his finger as he seemed to get lost in thought. "If this wasn't happening, we would have gone to college." I started to roll my eyes at him. "No, seriously. Hear me out. Your dad has been great, and you know he wants so badly to see you in school. We'd go together somewhere. Live in a little apartment near campus where I'd spend the evenings painting while you read. Everything would be so normal, but it would be special because we were doing it together."

  It sounded like a dream—and that was all it could ever be.

  I let my cheek rest against his chest again and closed my eyes. I didn't want to be looking at him when the tears rolled out of the corners of my eyes. Henry was so in tune with me, though, and he knew the tears were coming.

  "C'mon, don't cry. I don't want us to waste this time together on being sad about things we can't change."

  I started choking back real sobs, then. "I don't... don't know what I'm gonna do when you're gone," I managed to pant out in between the cries wracking my body. Henry rubbed my back, the only comfort he could offer for a problem he couldn't fix.

  For years, I'd put my life on hold to live out the fantasies that Henry told me. He'd heard interesting stories about a certain Russian circus? I found it and sent him videos. He dreamed of being a special guest at the Sundance film festival? I went and got autographs for him from all his favorite stars. Snorkeling in the Caribbean? Check. Riding horses on a Wyoming dude ranch? Check. Hiking in a rainforest in Costa Rica? Check.

  I had lived because Henry couldn't.

  There were still several places left for me to go. I'd kept a faded paper list of all the things he'd dreamed of since I'd met him years ago outside my mother's hospital room. I knew I would have to finish the list. It would be the best way for me to honor him after he was gone. I just didn't know what came after that when the list inevitably ran out.

  "I have some thoughts on what you should do when I'm gone." The words sounded rehearsed. As if he'd been preparing himself for the conversation he'd known would eventually come. "Would you like to hear them?”

  "Yes," I managed to whimper out.

  "The first thing you're gonna do is spend at least six more months traveling."

  My lips drooped down into a pout. "But I won't have you to send my pictures to."

  "Send them to your dad," he replied smoothly. "Which brings me to the second thing I think you should do." He gently tilted my head back so I was looking at him again. "You should work on your relationship with your dad. I know he's still like a stranger to you, but he's the one person I know I can trust to take care of you. Do something nice for him. Spend some time getting to
know each other."

  "I can do that."

  "And then there's the third thing." He kissed me gently. "Stop going it alone."

  I tried to protest "But—"

  "No buts. Please don't spend the rest of your life alone, Wren. You make it so hard for other people to get to know you. You've only made friends when you knew you wouldn't be around long enough to get too attached. You have to stop doing that. Not everyone is gonna die.”

  "I mean, eventually..." I grumbled. He threw his head back against the headboard and let out his signature boisterous laugh.

  "You know what I mean," he chided me playfully. Henry's gentle, reassuring touch started to get softer. I could tell he was getting tired. He breathed out a painful request, "Promise me you won't close your heart off after I'm gone."

  I made a non-committal sound in the back of my throat. It must have been good enough for him because after a few quiet moments his breathing evened out and he'd fallen asleep. He was doing that more and more often. We didn't have much longer until he'd have to go back to the hospital for good. I wouldn't be able to care for him by myself, as much as I would have liked to. I would be there, though, with him right until the very end.

  And when he was gone I would never fall in love again.

  24

  Carter

  My head was spinning from the alcohol and the overlapping voices. I'd been drinking since I'd woken up that afternoon—after drinking all night the night before. Everything was starting to get fuzzy. Just what I'd wanted. If I couldn't get any clarity with Wren then I didn't want any clarity at all. Not with anything.

  "Stop flailing so much," Mel whined in my ear.

  I had no idea why she was still hanging all over me. I'd made it pretty damn clear when she showed up that I wasn't interested. That hadn't changed since the beginning of the semester.

  "What are you doing?" I asked. I'd long ago learned that subtle didn't work, not with girls like Mel.

  "Everyone heard about how your little girlfriend up and left. Let me help you feel better."

  My balance was already off, which was the only reason she was so easily able to pull me down to her by my neck. She latched onto me, sucking on my neck in a way that was more vampire than sexy. "Stop," I said more forcefully, pushing her off of me.

  "Come on." She pouted. "You'll be going pro soon. You need a girl like me, someone who knows the score. I can be your warm bed when you're home, and I won't ever ask about what you're doing when you're not. In fact, I won't force you to talk at all."

  "I'm not interested."

  She smiled too wide. It was obviously forced. "You'll change your mind. Pro teams like to see a guy with a steady girlfriend. It makes you look more reliable." The fact that she even knew that proved she was the worst kind of jersey chaser.

  "I'm not going pro!" I desperately shouted in her face.

  Too late, I realized I hadn't just announced it to her, I'd announced it to the whole damn room. "Shit," I muttered as I glanced around at dozens of shocked faces. Several of my teammates were in the room, and they all started pressing closer, trying to ask a million questions at once.

  "Probably not the brightest thing you've ever done." I turned to find Travis standing aimlessly behind me. "Come on, buddy, time for you to split."

  Travis motioned towards the direction of the door. I considered ignoring him, but that would mean I'd have to stick around there with all the glowering football fans. They'd all been clamoring for the chance to someday say they'd known me before I was a pro player. Guess the joke was on them.

  We were in one of the off-campus houses. I couldn't even remember the name of the fraternity having the party. All that mattered was free alcohol and enough noise to block out my own unbearable racing thoughts. It was the first time I'd ever gone seeking out a party like that on my own.

  Travis had to lead me back through the kitchen to get to the front door. I took the chance to grab another beer as we passed by the oversized ice bucket holding the cheap shit. He didn't realize I'd grabbed it until we stepped out on the porch. I'd said a few choice words under my breath because I was struggling to pop the top off the bottle.

  "Seriously?" He sighed. He took the bottle from my hands and passed it off to the next person that passed. I tried to turn to follow but he grabbed me by the back of my shirt. "No," he chastised me like a child.

  "Just one more," I attempted to bargain.

  "Take it from someone who knows from experience, you won't accomplish anything by drinking like this. The problem will still be there in the morning."

  "Just because you're an alcoholic doesn't mean everyone is." I sneered in his face. I was expecting him to get mad, but he only looked vaguely annoyed by me.

  Travis took a deep breath. "Carter, she'll come back. She has to." He looked so sure of it that I had to look away.

  "She doesn't have to do anything."

  I stuffed my hands in my pockets and looked out over the trashed yard. It all suddenly looked too much like opening weekend. Not the same house, but the same crowd and mess. All that was missing was Wren.

  She'd disappeared after I'd ambushed her at dinner with her father. All week she'd been missing classes. I'd asked around.

  Part of me wanted to rewind time. Maybe things would have been different if I'd given her more time to explain. The other part of me wasn't sure there had been any way for her to explain that would have made things right. Having her leave, though, that somehow hurt even worse than finding out she was married.

  "Have you tried calling her?" Travis asked.

  I nodded solemnly. I'd blown her phone up on Tuesday once I'd realized she was gone. It wasn't one of my prouder moments. "She won't answer."

  "If it makes you feel any better, all I got was one text apologizing for not telling me she'd be missing class. So, it's not just you."

  "It doesn't." I wasn't sure there was anything that would make me feel better.

  "She didn't take all her stuff from the dorms. She has to at least come back for her things." Travis was trying too hard to be upbeat. I wanted so badly to tell him not to bother.

  Rose hadn't heard from her since she'd left. There was a good chance Wren wouldn't even care about whatever she'd left behind. It wasn't like most of her things weren't replaceable. She'd proven her friends were, after all.

  I padded my way across the porch. "Whatever," I said on an exhale. I passed Travis by as I made my way down the steps.

  I started to turn right, in the direction of home. "Wait!" Travis sounded slightly panicked. "Let's go this way." He pointed in the opposite direction.

  My slow, drunken brain had no idea why we'd go in the opposite direction. I blindly followed anyway. Just another thing that wasn't making sense in my life.

  Could I pity party any harder?

  Travis was busy typing furiously into his phone. I tried to read what he was doing from over his shoulder, but my vision was far too blurry. Instead, I looked ahead of us. Someone else was walking our way. My eyes squinted at the figure as a flash of recognition hit me.

  "Is that Matty?" I hadn't seen him since Wren had vanished.

  "Yeah," Travis answered. He didn't sound the least bit surprised, which made me instantly suspicious.

  "What is this, an intervention?"

  "I was thinking of it as more of a Wren-tervention." He was trying to be funny, but I couldn't seem to locate my sense of humor.

  "Hey," Matty greeted as he cautiously approached us. I was getting sick of being looked at like I was something fragile. For fuck's sake, I was a grown man. I could mope without any help, thank you very much.

  Though, it admittedly felt a little good that for once I had friends watching my back. Friends that I only had because of Wren.

  I tuned the two of them out as they broke into a complicated conversation that I couldn't follow. They were talking about where to go, I could tell that much. They argued over it for a minute, but the next thing I knew I was being ushered back in the direct
ion that Matty had come from.

  "Where are we going?"

  "Back to my place. I've got an apartment," Matty answered. "I think you need the change of scenery."

  I stopped so fast I nearly tripped over myself. "Let's go to the dorms," I suggested instead. I'd gotten a sudden idea, and I was feeling a bit like a dog who'd had a bone dangled in front of it.

  "Why? But also, how?" Travis looked confused.

  I dug down into my pocket until my fingers gripped around my set of keys. Triumphantly, I held them up like a trophy. "Rose gave me a spare key," I explained.

  "We probably shouldn't disturb your sister," Travis tried to reason, but I was far beyond being willing to see reason.

  "She's not even there. She went home for the weekend." Already, my feet had started to carry me in that direction. The other guys had no choice but to follow me.

  "Are you sure this is a good idea?" Matty asked.

  I didn't bother answering. The dorm building wasn't far. I could already see it through the trees that lined the campus. The closer we got the more my pace picked up. When we walked into the building the girl at the front desk barely spared a glance in our direction. It was a relief considering it wouldn't look too good if anyone questioned what the three of us were doing there that late at night.

  "Carter, are you sure about this? Won't this just make you feel worse?" Matty was trying to be too rational.

  I kept working my way unsteadily up the stairs to the second floor. There was no way Matty was going to persuade me otherwise. The dorm was as close as I could get to Wren at the moment, and I was craving it. I could feel guilty about it tomorrow when I'd sobered up.