His mother’s words came back to him. Once you find her, do not let mistakes—big and small—separate you. Never let the sun go down on your anger. Make up to those you love before they fade into the twilight.
He texted Sheila: Tell Carina I’m sorry if she’s hurt.
Sheila: It’s not an if. You never gave her a chance to explain.
Dylan: She won’t pick up her phone.
Sheila: She broke it in the laundry room.
Pain threaded through Dylan’s fingers and forearms all the way to his heart. Breaking the phone she was tethered to all summer meant she no longer cared what Rebecca wanted. Maybe Carina wasn’t screwing him that night. Maybe she was making love, because possibly, she was in love—with him.
He palmed his forehead as the realization made him want to hug and kiss all her hurts away.
He texted Sheila: Tell her I want her to explain.
Sheila: I’m staying out of this.
He texted: You once said I’ll be good for her. I’m going to prove you right.
Sheila: Good luck. Carina’s stronger than you think.
True. But that’s what he loved about her.
Dylan pocketed his phone and returned to his apartment building. Gordie was sitting on his bench playing his tin whistle. He set it down. “I saw the princess.”
“Here?” Dylan’s heart jumped and he scanned the vicinity.
“She walked around the building and looked up at your balcony.”
“Did you speak to her?”
“She asked where you were, and I told her you went to give the witch back her bugs.”
“What did she say to that?” Dylan couldn’t help pacing in circles.
“She laughed, then said I was her best friend and she’d see me on the banks of Loch Lomond.”
Oh, crap. That meant she was going home, leaving California. Dylan rushed to his apartment. He took out writing paper and penned a letter to Carina. After rereading it several times, he tucked it in his guitar case.
~ ~ ~
Carina walked uphill from the Orinda BART station to Van’s parents’ home. It was nestled in a wooded area full of mature trees. She unlocked the gate and hiked up the steep driveway. She’d spent the afternoon hanging around Berkeley, but she couldn’t put off packing any longer. Her parents wanted her to come home immediately, and she’d overheard Van’s parents worrying about her bad influence on their son—as if quitting investment banking ranked up there with drug dealing.
Dylan’s guitar case sat on the landing. Carina clapped a hand to her thumping chest as warm flutters showered her. She glanced through the trees in case he lurked, but all was quiet except for the chirping birds. Half expecting him to jump out and scare her, she unlocked the door and opened it.
She waited a moment to give him a chance to yell, ‘Surprise.’ But when no one appeared, she picked up the guitar case and brought it in.
The room was as she’d left it the morning Dylan departed. His suit jacket lay on the table and the toothbrush he’d used was on the kitchen counter. He’d washed the teacups and laid them on the dish rack. She picked up the jacket and held it to her face. Dylan’s happy fragrance lingered. Soon, it too, would fade and all she’d have left would be the memories—beautiful memories, but not enough to last through a lifetime of regrets.
Carina put the guitar case on her bed and opened it. His precious guitar lay there, smiling like Dylan with its sunburst top and graceful f-holes, friendly and warm. She lifted it and discovered a folded piece of paper addressed to her.
She set the guitar down in the case, its wood vibrating, whispering soft notes. She unfolded the paper and read.
Dear Carina,
When you came into my life, you gave me a piece of myself I didn’t know was missing. I had been wandering way too long, running from my pain. I was lost, pretending to be happy when all around me was rust and ruin.
The moment I saw you, I was drawn to you. You’re focused, directed and knew exactly what you wanted. You packed up my sorrows and showed me I was drifting, not living up to my potential.
You’re probably wondering why I left my guitar—my heart and soul. Keep it close to remember me. Take it out and play with it, knowing each note it sings is a love note to you.
You complete me. When you’re around, I belong to you. When you’re gone, I’m no longer whole. I need you like I need air. And if this scares you, I don’t care. Because I don’t have anything, if I don’t have you.
I am yours. Get used to it.
Dylan
Carina’s fingers tingled and she wiped her eyes. Get used to it? He belonged to her? Warmth filled the empty corners of her heart, beating back the gray edges of doubt. Did this mean he forgave her? Or was this a final farewell gift?
She flipped the paper over to see if he wanted her to call or meet him. Nothing. She wiped the corners of her eyes and reread the note. Pangs of anxiety warred in her heart with glimmers of hope. Dylan asked her to remember him by his guitar, and he wanted to belong to her, but she’d hurt him. Was he ready to hear her apologies? To give her another chance, or was he giving up and letting her know she’d left a hole in his heart.
Chapter 31
Carina looped a giant plastic bag of donations over her shoulder while Van removed a big box of shoes from his trunk.
“This is kind of a run down area.” He glanced over his shoulder at a homeless man lying on the sidewalk.
“Women and children’s shelter.” Carina nodded toward the two level wood frame building across the street.
They crossed the one-way street and stopped in front of the shelter. It was early Saturday morning and traffic was light, but several cars were already parked outside the building, probably volunteers serving breakfast.
Van pressed the doorbell. “What’s going to happen now, are you going back to school?”
“Nope. I’m taking a leave of absence, gap year, and have no idea what I’m going to do. It’s actually kind of liberating. Maybe I’ll work for a nonprofit or get a job serving coffee.”
“You can always stay with my parents. They really like you.” Van rocked on his heels, balancing the oversized box.
Yeah, right. He was at work and hadn’t heard them speculate on whether being associated with Carina might cost their son a return offer. For Van’s sake, she hoped he’d receive one, but no, she couldn’t impose on them any longer.
“Thanks for the offer, but I want to do the wild thing. Maybe travel and do charity work. I hear Oxfam needs organizers for their music festivals. I’m sure I can put my business skills to work to raise funds or help on the finance side.”
“What do your parents think?” Van looked worried.
“I already told my father I’m not going back with him. I’m sure he’ll try and talk me out of it when he arrives.” Carina rang the bell again.
The door opened.
“What a surprise.” Joanne held the door for Carina and Van as they entered with the bags and boxes. “I meant to thank you for the generous check. And what are these?”
“Do you take clothes and shoes?” Carina put the bag behind the receptionist desk, while Van placed the boxes down.
“Oh yes, we do. How very generous of you.” Joanne opened the bag. “Would you like a receipt?”
“Not necessary. It’d be an overhead for you to track what each piece sold for.”
Betsy, the former mortgage banker, opened the box of shoes. She gasped. “These are Christian Louboutins and Jimmy Choos.”
Joanne pulled out a pair of blazers. “Dolce and Gabbana, Christian Dior? Are you sure?”
“Very sure,” Carina said. “I’m no longer going into investment banking. I’d rather give these to you to auction off and raise money.”
“Why, you’re such a sweetie.” Joanne hugged Carina. “No wonder Dylan loves you so much.”
Carina’s face heated and a squirrelly feeling churned her stomach. “That was before I hurt him. Has he been around? Can you tell him how
sorry I am?”
Joanne’s forehead creased. “I can, but he hasn’t been to work this week. He’s going on the tour and has been meeting with his lawyer about the contract.”
Carina’s heart dropped. “When’s he leaving?”
“Gave notice for the end of August. Found someone to take over his lease already.”
“Well, that was fast. I guess I better be going. Does he still volunteer at the community garden?” She’d been trying to bump into him for days and was running out of places. Sure, she could write a note or leave a message on his voicemail, but she’d rather see him face to face and know beyond a doubt that he understood how much she loved him.
Joanne put her arm around Carina’s shoulder. “You look like you need a friend. Want to talk about it?”
Betsy tapped Van’s arm. “Help me get some coffee and scones for them?”
“Sure.” He followed her behind a beaded curtain while Joanne led Carina to the dining table.
Joanne sat and gestured Carina to a spot across from her. “I’ve known Dylan for many years and I can assure you he’s never felt for another woman the way he feels for you. It’s so cute the way his lips curl into that goofy smile and his eyes shine while he talks about you. So, with that out of the way, we can fix this. How did you hurt him?”
Carina stared at her fingers. Unbidden tears bubbled under her eyelids. “I betrayed him to his ex-girlfriend who happened to be my boss.”
She spilled the entire story, minus the parts about the text messages and intimate details.
“The thing is, he left his guitar at my place with a note.” Carina twisted her fingers. “But he hasn’t tried to contact me or asked me to meet him. I don’t know if it’s a parting gift since he said he never wanted to see or hear from me again.”
“It’ll be okay. I’m sure of that.” Joanne reached across the table and patted her hands. “Dylan Jewell is a real gem. Now, here’s what you’re going to do.”
~ ~ ~
Dylan scratched his head and reread the note.
“Who did you say brought this?” he asked Joanne who sat on a stool behind the cash register.
“A cab driver. She’s still out there in case you’re going to attend.”
“It might get busy here.” Dylan surveyed the shop. The lunch crowd had thinned, but a few regulars sat in the booths with their laptops open.
“I can cover it.” Joanne winked. “It’s not every day you’re invited to a fiddle jam.”
“Problem is I don’t know anyone who plays the fiddle.” Dylan wiped a spill on the counter near the espresso machine.
Joanne raised an eyebrow and tucked a stray hair under her bandana. “I’m surprised you don’t have a fiddler for your band.”
“We’re a rock band.” Dylan glanced at the note again. It was written in a heavy handwriting, one he didn’t recognize. “Maybe the bluesy stuff could use one.”
“There you go.” Joanne took the dishtowel from him and snapped it. “Go, go, go.”
“Okay, thanks.”
“I want all the details.” She smirked and waved him out the door.
Dylan stepped into the waiting cab and showed the driver the note. “Any idea what this is about?”
“What it says, you’re invited to a fiddle jam.”
“But, I don’t have my guitar.” He raised his hands palm up.
“Guess you’ll have to use your lips.” She puckered hers and set the car to drive.
Dylan rubbed the bridge of his nose, settling into the back seat. He’d expected Carina to call him or at least send him an email after he’d left his guitar. Instead, there was no response, and Sheila hadn’t been forthcoming with any information either.
He’d gone over every word of his note and kicked himself. He’d been so arrogant, thinking his offer of himself was a prize she’d desire. But Carina wasn’t like other women. She didn’t want a man to complete her. She had everything in her motivation and will to succeed.
He was the one who needed to care about someone. Now that Rebecca had relinquished the foundation to him, everything would have been perfect, if only he hadn’t lost Carina.
The taxi rolled to a stop in front of the Youth Action Community Garden and Urban Farm.
“Here?” Dylan opened the door. He dug into his pocket and paid the fare.
“That’s right. Perfect place for a fiddle jam, I’d say.” The driver gave him a thumbs up. “Good luck.”
The gate was already unlocked, and the scent of barbeque wafted through the hedges blocking his view of the gardens. Sallie bounced on the other side of the fence, her tail wagging her entire rear end.
“Hey, girl, who’s cooking? Smells good.” Dylan patted the dog and scratched behind her ears. “You hungry?”
Sallie leaped and bounded, her tongue lolling, to the picnic area under a small grove of weeping mayten trees.
Dylan’s heart did a happy dance. Carina stood in front of the smoker grill, her back to him. A violin case was propped next to his guitar under a tree, and a picnic basket sat on the mosaic bench shaped like a snake. Nearby, Gordie lay on a blanket playing his tin whistle.
Sallie’s barking alerted Carina and Gordie. They waved him over. Dylan wet his dry lips. Gordie’s presence suggested this was not a romantic reunion, but a declaration of friendship.
Carina set the cooking tools down and clasped her hand to her chest. Her mouth struggled between smiling and biting her lips. The hippie heart he gave her was around her neck. She took a deep breath and stepped toward him. “I was afraid you wouldn’t come.”
He tilted his chin at the violin case. “How can I resist a fiddler so pretty?”
She dipped her eyes to the ground. “I owe you a dinner and an apology. I’m sorry about what I did to you.”
From the side, Gordie played “My Heart Will Go On,” the theme song from the Titanic movie. Dylan glanced at Gordie, but turned back to Carina. “We’re not doomed, are we?”
“I hope not. Can I tell you why I did what I did?”
“Not sure I want to know.” He could feel his heart in his throat. “But I’ll hear you out.”
“I was wrong to try and change you.” She blinked hard and peered at him as if not daring to meet his disapproval. “It’s because I liked you and I was afraid to get attached to a man who had no job security.”
Ouch. In other words, he wasn’t good enough for her.
“Car, you don’t have to say more. I get it.”
“No, please, don’t leave. I shouldn’t have gone along with Rebecca’s schemes. I didn’t want to lose my job, and I thought I could skim along, playing both sides, that somehow Rebecca would see what good work I did and accept me without the stupid deal.”
“But she did offer you the job. Why did you turn it down?”
Gordie had segued to the “Skye Boat Song,” whose theme was about death. Dylan pushed his hands into his pocket. Her answer would let him know where he stood.
“I lost something more valuable. Your friendship.” Her eyes glinted like black onyx, so clear and beautiful.
“I’ll still be your friend, even if you’re a banker. You shouldn’t give up your dreams on my account.” He couldn’t help running his fingers through her silky hair.
“It’s not you.” She drew closer and placed a hand on his chest. “I’ve changed. I took a hard look at myself and it was ugly. I’m ashamed at the way I spent money on expensive clothes and ignored people who needed help.”
“Oh, Carina.” Dylan pulled her into his arms. “You were always caring, even when I first met you.”
“Yer right, laddie,” Gordie said, rubbing his stomach. “The princess was worried I didn’t have enough to eat.”
Both Dylan and Carina turned to stare at Gordie. How the heck could he listen in and play at the same time?
Gordie brought the tin whistle to his lips and started on a happier tune, “Flower of Scotland.”
Dylan couldn’t resist putting his nose into Carina’s hair a
nd inhaling her sunshiny scent. How could he not want more, now that she was safely ensconced in his arms? Her apology was sincere and with her cuddling into him like she belonged to him, her betrayal didn’t hurt as much. Sure, she’d made a mistake, but so had he.
“Forgive me?” Carina asked. “I want to be your friend again.”
“Forgiven, and yes, best friends.” Dylan kissed the top of her head.
“Great, let’s eat.” Carina shrugged and backed out of his arms. She fanned the smoke and turned the steaks, then plucked the vegetable skewers off the grill.
Dylan swallowed, his throat tight. He touched the small of her back. “I screwed up, too. I came down hard on you, but I never meant to make you feel unworthy. I’m sorry.”
She squirted water on the steaks. “I deserved it after what I did.”
“No, I was angry, but you don’t deserve to be hurt.” He turned her to face him. “Carina, look at me. Do you forgive me?”
“I do.” Her eyes grew watery, and she turned back to grill. “I brought your guitar. I heard you signed the contract and figured you’d need it.”
There she went again. Avoidance. She was clearly uncomfortable with him. He’d blown it by being so mean to her.
Carina pulled the steaks from the grill and petted Sallie. “I’ll give you a piece when it cools down.”
Sallie barked, dancing circles around her as Carina brought the platter to the picnic table near Gordie.
Dylan followed her. “I want you to have the guitar. I can always buy another one.”
“I’d feel bad keeping it,” Carina said. “You ready to eat?”
Why didn’t she want it? Did she not want to remember him or was she worried she didn’t deserve such a special gift?
Gordie struggled to sit, his leg obviously still bothering him. “I am. The Princess says no eating until her Prince Charming’s here.”
“I did not.” Carina swatted at Gordie playfully. “Let’s break out the champagne.”
“What are we celebrating?” Dylan asked.
Whole Latte Love (The Jewells) Page 31