Touch of Heartache

by Joy Penny

  “They’re called rentals and details, details. It’s not like this is a real job.” He sighed.

  “I’d pay for you to fly here if I needed it,” she said. “But I don’t.”

  “Okay,” said Gavin. A moment of silence hung between them. “Then tell me what you need, Li. I’m here for you. And your other friends can be, too—”

  “What other friends?” scoffed Lilac. She reached inside her tote bag to grab a tissue.

  “Brielle and Pembroke for starters,” said Gavin.

  “They’re more your friends than mine.”

  “You introduced me to Brielle!”

  “And yet somehow, she’s more your friend than mine.” She took a deep breath and cradled her phone between her cheek and her shoulder to remove the fuel pump from her car. “Never mind—I know why. You’re amazing. You’re—you’re—”

  “What is it?” Gavin asked, his voice quieter. “What happened today?”

  Hanging the pump back in place, Lilac found her voice wavering. “It’s not… It’s not what you’re thinking. I—I actually had a great night last night.”

  “Well, that’s great to hear. What happened? Please tell me it had something to do with that knight-in-shining-sandgrouse-suit.”

  Lilac’s throat went dry. “It—It did.”

  “That’s amazing, Li! I… Look, I wish you were near me as much as anything, but I also know this was your dream. You gave up something you worked very hard for because you love Florida. You love sun and beaches. You love Tildy World. You can fight for what you love—for what makes you happy. For what you deserve and what that asshole actually deserves…”

  “I don’t love it here anymore, Gavvy. I miss you. I miss home.”

  Silence. “Then come home, Li.”

  A car honked and Lilac jumped. Looking around her, she realized the station had grown more crowded and there was a line forming for free pumps. “I’ve got to go.”

  “Lilac, I wish you’d let me help more. I wish you’d let more people know.”

  “Tell whoever you want,” said Lilac, opening her car door and flipping off the driver who kept honking at her. She pushed the ignition button and ran a finger tipped with hot pink nail polish under her eye to pick off an errant eyelash. “I don’t care anymore.” She put the phone down in her cup holder and put the car in drive. “I’ll call later,” she said, disconnecting.

  After that, she didn’t really remember the trip home. If it weren’t for her GPS talking to her along the way, she wasn’t sure she would have even managed to get back to Aunt Frankie’s bungalow.

  Lilac wasn’t going on a bender again. She’d learned her lesson there—though part of her wished she more clearly remembered the start of her little fling with Nolan. Gavin had spoken highly of him and apparently, no matter how crazy she’d gotten, it hadn’t been enough to scare him away. Not until she’d stuck her foot in her mouth and completely ruined things the day before.

  Instead, she settled for drinking iced tea and lounging on Aunt Frankie’s covered patio on Sunday, collecting her thoughts and weighing what to do. She’d brought her worn stuffed Tildy Tapir with her, cradling it between her arms against her abdomen. She still wore her pajamas from the night before.

  She could take those years off to go traveling. She wouldn’t even have to explain to her family why—they’d all just assume it was simply Lilac being Lilac.

  Gavin must have said something to Brielle and Pembroke, though—even to Pembroke, whom she couldn’t ever remember exchanging a non-group message with—because both sent her messages saying they were there for her if she wanted to talk. Brielle even apologized for being so flippant the week before.

  Lilac felt better reading that, but she still didn’t feel like writing back.

  Gavin must have said something vaguer to Frankie, too, because she’d gone from cheerful and chatty to silent and awkward about mid-morning. Finally, Sunday afternoon, after Lilac had refused both Frankie’s homemade brunch and her lunch, Frankie took the lounge chair next to her, a glass of iced lemonade in hand. Even in the shade, she wore her sunglasses. The Florida sun was bright like that, the sun-coated parts of Frankie’s yard almost blinding to take in, even from the shade of the patio.

  “Gavin tells me I should ask you to tell me what’s bothering you,” said Frankie. “I… I know you were stressed last week, but if there’s something more to it, you should tell me.”

  Lilac shrugged.

  “Are you really thinking of going home?” asked Frankie. “It’s your life, and you know your grandparents and parents won’t mind, but… I thought, I don’t know, I thought you were different from the rest of us.”

  That got Lilac stirring. “What do you mean by that?”

  Frankie slid her sunglasses down her nose slightly to peer over at her niece. “You’re as gorgeous as your mother and grandmothers, but you never treated college as a playground like they did. You worked hard, you got your degree—”

  “And then totally blew the job path I’d created for myself.”

  The ice cubes jingled against the glass as Frankie waved her lemonade in the air. “Even so, you stuck with it and put in the work and only changed your mind when something more appealing came along.” She took a sip from her glass. “You could have just coasted through college, then spent the rest of your life traveling, like the rest of the Townsends.”

  Lilac didn’t point out the Etsy store Frankie managed or the jobs her daddy and Grandpa Matthew had had back in their youths. She knew that most of their wealth came from investments and inheritance and that she had those to fall back on, too.

  “My point is,” said Frankie, readjusting her glasses, “you work hard, kiddo. And I know that no matter where you land, you’ll land on your feet, but I just want you to make sure you really want to give this up. If you leave, I doubt you can come back—not to the same theme park anyway.”

  Lilac cuddled her worn Tildy, not saying anything.

  “You remember when you got that, don’t you?” asked Frankie. “It was your first time visiting me since you could walk—you must have been three or four. Your parents wanted to bring you to Disney, but—”

  “I wanted to go to Tildy World,” said Lilac, the vaguest of memories popping into her head. “I liked her cartoons.”

  Frankie’s lips tugged into a gentle smile. “Do you know why you liked them? At least, the reason you gave me when I asked?”

  “‘If you dream hard enough, I’ll make your dreams come true,’” said Lilac, quoting Tildy Tapir herself.

  Frankie put her glass down on a coaster on the small table between them, her jangly bracelets sliding down just past her wrist as she moved. “And yet you never once counted on Tildy making your dreams come true for you,” said Frankie. “I admire that. You didn’t get that from the Townsends, I assure you.”

  Lilac laughed and tucked her chin behind her plush. Its fur had started piling in patches. “You give me too much credit,” she said. “I never would have gotten the job here if it weren’t for you and your connections.”

  “Maybe.” Frankie shrugged. “But you don’t know what. You might have applied on your own.”

  And that asshole might have still seen my boobs and given me the job. She sighed. “But I… I felt safe taking risks, striving for my dreams,” she admitted, thinking painfully all of a sudden of Brielle and how she’d teased her about not having much of a job after graduation. She wondered if she’d studied history and philosophy if her daddy would have just called some museum where he’d made a donation and given her a way in there. She wondered if she couldn’t have asked her daddy to do the same for her friend—if she’d ever been cognizant of things outside of herself to think of it.

  It was like a punch to the gut.

  She thought of Nolan then, of how hard he worked while going to school, of the way he stepped up to take care of his siblings. How there had been something there when he’d offered her cash for the hotel, a reluctance he was trying to s
tifle—he probably really needed the money.

  Lilac worked hard for her dreams, but there was no escaping the fact that she had a fairy godmother of sorts in the form of a trust fund and a family with connections.

  It struck her then. She’d been considering turning tail and going home—stuffing it all down and putting it all behind her. She’d suspected women had been harassed by Earl before her and had lamented that none of them had stepped forward to stop it.

  Maybe they couldn’t have. Maybe they didn’t have her resources and her fairy godmother.

  But she could. And even if it meant the end of her time at Tildy World, that was exactly what she was contemplating regardless. Rather than let him get away with it, pave the way for him to assault another woman—she could raise a fuss, cause a stink.

  “Frankie,” she said, her lips cracking, “I might need a lawyer.”

  That actually got Aunt Frankie to remove her sunglasses from her face entirely.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The past week and a half were a blur in Nolan’s mind. There was the work—that stayed consistent, and even if he was frowning and sweating inside Silly’s head, he knew that Silly’s grin and Nolan’s own hand flourishes made it seem like he was Mr. Cheerful personified—but everything else was like ripping his foundations away. He could barely focus during class. He fell behind with a couple of projects, and though he got an extension, he hadn’t been making the most of the extra time allowed him.

  He was just a mess.

  “How’s the little bean doing?” asked DeShawn as they entered the break room and Nolan was finally able to take off Silly’s head.

  DeShawn called most kids “little beans.” Not that he expected his shift manager to remember the names of his siblings.

  “She’s all right,” said Nolan, aware that his coworkers knew all about Willow’s broken wrist and leg. Nolan had felt his world narrow to a frightening tunnel he’d experienced before—that time when he’d gotten the message that his mom was in the ER—but before he’d taken off like a shot, he’d listened to the rest of the messages. They’d gotten progressively angrier until they’d turned resigned. Willow had fallen off a park jungle gym while trying to smack another kid and she’d broken some bones. But she had had them set and she was home the next morning.

  His dad had seemed to want to explode at Nolan the moment he’d walked through the door, but both kids were napping after the late night they’d had and he’d settled for grabbing him by the arm and pulling him outside.

  “Where were you?” he asked. As if they were the co-parents of these kids, as if his dad was looking at his partner in this journey instead of another one of his kids.

  “At the beach,” said Nolan, digging his hands into his swim trunk pockets. There was no hiding that.

  “I thought you had class, but then—the beach?”

  “Class let out early.” Nolan shrugged. “I didn’t know there’d be a crisis. Cut me some slack.” He felt like a sullen teenager all over again.

  His dad ran a hand over his face. “If you wanted to go to the beach, you could have come home and taken the kids with you.”

  Nolan snorted. “On a Friday night? Landon would fall asleep before we even got halfway there.”

  “You could have waited until the weekend, then!” His dad paced the porch stoop now, his hands flailing. “Maybe then I’d have had them in bed earlier and I wouldn’t have brought them to the park and Willow wouldn’t have…” His voice caught in his throat.

  Drawing his hand out of his pocket, Nolan placed it on his dad’s shoulder, as much to stop the man’s pacing as anything. “She’s okay, right? You can’t blame yourself.”

  “I can,” said his dad. “I—I was focused on an email from work and I wasn’t paying attention. You would have… You know how to handle them better.”

  Sighing, Nolan sat down on the porch step at his dad’s feet. “Keep talking like that and you’ll never fully step up,” he said, knowing those words were going to start something.

  But his dad was quiet as he sat beside him. “I know it’s been hard for you, too, son, since your mom—”

  “There,” said Nolan. “See? I’m your son. I’m not supposed to be in charge of these kids around the clock. It’s not supposed to be a big deal that I head out to the beach for a night. I’m old enough to legally drink and gamble, Dad. Half the guys I knew my age are getting ready to start their own families and the other half are at least far away from home.” Leaning forward, he rested his chin atop his knees. “I was the only one left behind.”

  His dad rested a hand on Nolan’s back. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I really wouldn’t have minded except that this happened and—I panicked.” Nolan could hear him choking on his words, fighting back his tears. “I… I was going to tell you. I quit my second job.”

  “What?” said Nolan, snapping upright. His dad’s hand fell limply from Nolan’s back. “But, Dad, things are tight enough—”

  Waving a hand, his dad cut him off. “No. It’s a good thing. The reason I’ve been so caught up in work—my first job, at the office—is because I’ve been competing with a few others to pull off a good second quarter of sales. The quarter isn’t even over yet, but the boss has already been impressed with what I can do and—well, he already offered me the promotion.” His smile faltered. “More pay and, since I can quit my store shifts, more time to be at home.” He nudged him. “Which means more time you don’t have to worry about being at home.”

  “That’s… That’s great.” It really was, but Nolan was still more in shock than anything. That’s why his dad had been harried and distracted? Not because he’d been in over his head—although that was probably true, too—but because he’d had a goal in mind, a goal that would make things easier for them all?

  But that still didn’t solve the problem of daycare for Landon. Dad’s office didn’t offer any like Tildy World did.

  “Landon’s going to be in kindergarten in the fall,” said his dad then, as if he knew the trajectory of Nolan’s thoughts. “I enrolled him in the full-day program—half is just the school’s version of daycare, I suppose, but whatever will keep him around his peers and learning.” His lips curled up into a faltering smile. “And I can afford to add more babysitter hours for the rest of the times we need one. I guess, what I’m saying is… If you want to go to college this fall… Proper college… I can’t offer much by way of tuition, but maybe you and I can co-sign a loan.”

  “No,” said Nolan without thinking. “Loans are a bad idea.” They already owed on one of the cars and the house, and he was sure his dad had maxed their credit cards.

  “Son, most kids take out some loans for college.”

  “Well, not this one.” Nolan reached beside him to grab hold of an overgrown weed that had snaked its way up through a crack in the pavement. The yard really needed a mow. “The thing is, I… Since Mom died, I’ve barely had time to stop. I’ve barely had time to think. But I know now how it feels to live paycheck to paycheck, for that to not even be enough. I never realized how hard you and Mom worked for me—”

  “We didn’t want you to worry about such things growing up,” his dad said. “I wouldn’t want you to worry about it now. Oh, lord, if Lorna knew I had resorted to saddling you with all this responsibility…”

  Nolan let go of the weed and patted his dad on the back. “I was an adult by then. I wanted to help.”

  “Helping is one thing. Becoming my rock is another.” He took Nolan into his arms then, not even bothering to wipe the tears from his eyes. “I’m sorry. And thank you. I love you.”

  After missing his sister’s accident, this was the last thing Nolan had pictured coming home to. “Love you, too,” said Nolan, clearing his throat and trying to brush off the wave of emotions hitting him hard right then, smack in the sternum. As they broke apart, Nolan grabbed hold of his weed again and this time, he yanked and tugged until he’d ripped it out by the roots. “Dad, last night, w
ell… I wasn’t just at the beach all night.”

  “I would hope not.” His dad paused then, waiting for Nolan to continue, but he didn’t. “You met someone…?”

  “Yeah,” said Nolan, more resigned than happy. He barely cracked a smile. “And I screwed it up already.”

  Wrapping an arm around him then, his dad patted his shoulder. “Son, welcome to the club. When you figure out how to not screw up with the ladies, let me know your secret.” He winked. “Better yet, when you find the girl who overlooks your screwups—like your mom did for me—bring her over here to meet me sometime.”

  Now, a week and a half later, as hectic as things had been at home, they’d been… Okay. Not painful anyway. As noisy and as stressful as ever, but his dad had been there—really been there, in mind as well as body. Willow could walk with a crutch since it was her right leg that was broken and her left wrist, but she still struggled and their dad had even taken a couple of personal days to stay home with her while Nolan and Landon had gone off to Tildy World for Nolan’s usual shifts. Willow, the little scamp, seemed to like all the special attention. Were it not for the fact that she spurted tears—actual tears—when she said her skin itched or her bones hurt, Nolan would have been sure she’d done it all on purpose to get her dad to pay attention.

  She’d gone back to school the following Wednesday and Nolan’s dad had spoken with the woman who usually watched Landon on Fridays and had managed to get her to pick her up and drop her off, so she wouldn’t have to climb up the bus.

  Willow had come home that first day with tons of drawings and signatures on both casts, exhausted from the extra effort of all the walking, but so thoroughly soaking up all the attention.

  “She’s a little celebrity at school now,” said Nolan to DeShawn as DeShawn tugged on the zipper on the back of the suit. The rush of cool, air-conditioned air from the break room was like a sweet, icy kiss. “So I think all in all, she’s more happy this happened than not.”