From Here to You

by McGuire, Jamie

  She nodded, as if she were remembering with me. “My mom was tough, too. She kept me in pageants until I was in high school.” She breathed out a laugh. “It’s hard to believe she was a pageant mom, now. All my old pageant friends wish their mothers would stay out of their lives. I can’t seem to get her attention anymore.”

  I frowned. Who could be stupid enough to ignore Darby? “What about your dad?”

  Two tiny lines formed between her brows. Pain. She was hiding pain.

  “I’m sorry. You don’t have to talk about it.”

  She looked down. “No…it’s…nice to talk about it. I haven’t, really.” She looked down at her melting ice cream, then put it on the table. “I’d just gotten my license the month before. Five-car pileup. We were second. It was ugly. Dad and my brother Chase were the only fatalities.”

  “Drunk driver?” I asked.

  She turned her head to face me. The color had returned to her face. She was feeling better, but the pain in her eyes was undeniable. “No. It was me,” she said. “Dad was angry that I had kept something from him. We argued. My full focus wasn’t on the road. Looking back, he wasn’t angry at me at all. He was angry he’d gone all that time being friendly to someone who wasn’t a friend. I know that’s what he’d tell me if he was still here. I miss them both a lot.”

  I tried not to smile. Smiling would be out of place in that moment, but she was a realist like me. There was plenty to beat ourselves up about, but we were also aware of our faults without playing the victim. I respected that about her more than anything.

  She continued, “The car in front of us turned into the other lane, and in the next second…” She breathed out like the air had been knocked out of her. “I hit the semi in front of us. They died instantly. I woke up in the hospital four days later. Instead of pageants, I practiced walking after my legs healed. Once Mama got me on my feet, she moved to Louisiana. She didn’t even say good-bye.” She paused, her expression changing. “You look mad.”

  I smoothed my features. “Me? No. No, just hate to hear anyone treated you bad.”

  Her eyebrows raised once. “Then I won’t tell you the rest.”

  My adrenaline began to pump, the way it did when I felt something bad was on the horizon. I couldn’t quite pinpoint it, but the urge to be a hero was getting harder to ignore with every word she spoke. She didn’t deserve the life she’d had. No wonder she’d run away.

  “You can tell me whatever you want. I’ll listen.”

  She smiled. “I bet you would.”

  “You seem to know something about me that I don’t.”

  Surprised, she settled against the sofa and leaned forward a bit. The fact that I could point out what she was thinking without her telling me was intriguing to her. “Tell me. What do I think I know?”

  “That I’m just talking to you for a result.”

  “And what result is that?” she asked.

  I smiled. “I didn’t take you for a game-player.”

  She blinked. “I’m not.”

  “Then just say it. We don’t have to dance around it for an hour. Whoever is the bluntest wins.”

  “Challenge accepted. There is no way I’m sleeping with you. Ever. I just got out of a not-great relationship and I have a lot going on.”

  “Like what?”

  She hesitated, but finally decided to be as blunt as we agreed to be. “That’s none of your business.” She seemed pleased to say the words; relieved, even.

  “Fair enough. But I’m not chatting with you as a segue. I’m interested in getting to know you. We both know you’re probably the most beautiful woman in three states.”

  “Just three?” She smiled, and I nearly forgot what I was going to say next.

  “I was being conservative. But this isn’t a recon mission.”

  “Recon mission, huh? What did you do before the forestry service?”

  “None of your business,” I said.

  She burst out laughing. I had to agree, being this honest was refreshing, and I liked her even more for enjoying it as much as I did, even though it was so far against her Southern upbringing she would have to concentrate to sustain it.

  “Do you still talk to her?” I asked. “Your mom?”

  “I called her just before I came here. I was engaged.” She looked over to check my reaction. “She wasn’t in a position to help me, of course, so I bailed. I came to Colorado Springs in my wedding dress.”

  “Runaway bride?” I asked. That part of her story I wasn’t expecting.

  Her brows turned in, forming twin lines between them. “Shawn was mean. Real mean. I had to get out of there.”

  “Did he hit you?”

  She peeked up at me.

  I breathed out, trying to let go of the violent rage building inside of me. I wanted to kill a man I’d never met. Wouldn’t be the first time, but I didn’t want to explain any of that to Darby.

  “I’m not stupid, you know. I mean, I believed him at first when he apologized. After a while, the apologies were the only peaceful moments. I just…I didn’t care about myself then. I didn’t think I deserved better. I caused a lot of hurt for a lot of people.”

  “You still…you still didn’t deserve that, Darby. I swear to god you didn’t.”

  “Don’t swear to God,” she said, her smooth features wrinkling in disgust.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. It just doesn’t mean anything to me. I forget.”

  “What do you mean?” she said, her attention piqued. “You don’t believe in God?”

  “There are over three thousand gods in human history. Which one?”

  “The only one.”

  I chuckled. “Who says?”

  “Isn’t your dad a preacher?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then how can you not believe?”

  “Because I’ve read the Bible, and then I researched how it was put together. After that, I researched the history of Christianity. Then, paganism and the Second Temple. Does it offend you? Because I don’t hold it against you that you believe in an invisible man in the sky.”

  She crossed her arms and faced forward. “I wasn’t offended until now.”

  “Does he talk to you? Do you hear an audible voice?”

  “Actually, he does.” She turned to face me, a grimace weighing down her features. I knew I was pissing her off, but I just couldn’t stop. It was like I was finally able to say everything to my father I’d been wanting to say, and it was flowing out of my mouth like word vomit, all to a woman whose company I was quickly becoming addicted to.

  “Oh? I mean, that’s cool. I’m just surprised. What does god sound like? Your god. I’m assuming he’s the only one to talk to you, because…you know…he’s the only one.”

  Her lips parted as she sucked in a tiny gasp, but the corners of her mouth were turned up. She wasn’t angry, just surprised. Talking to Darby was like taking enemy fire, both terrifying and comforting. I felt vulnerable, and at any moment my whole world could end, but I was also in my element. I was good at navigating the maze that was Darby Cooke, as if I had a choice. Everything about her drew me in; her voice was soft and soothing, her eyes calm, that sweet smile set the rage inside of me at ease. I hadn’t felt that kind of peace in a long time. I knew I could push her a little out of her comfort zone and she wouldn’t hate me for it. As a matter of fact, she was leaned forward, begging me to egg her on.

  “It’s more like a feeling than an audible voice,” she said.

  “So, your conscience? So it’s really you, not god, you’re talking to. Because, believe it or not, that makes you sound less crazy.”

  Her cheeks flushed a bright pink. “It’s called faith. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for God.”

  “What did he do?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “He kept me safe. He got me here.”

  “He kept you safe,” I deadpanned. “So why did you come to Colorado Springs with just the clothes on your back?”

  She face
d forward, folding her arms across her middle.

  “Unless you got in god’s Mazda and he drove you here…sounds like you saved yourself.”

  “I…” She stopped, thinking about my words. “I did. But he gave me the strength.”

  “So, you’re weak? I don’t buy that. Someone who travels alone without a plan or enough money for food is pretty damn brave.”

  “Or stupid,” she grumbled.

  “You left because you decided not to marry an abusive boyfriend. Sounds pretty smart to me.”

  “That’s because you don’t know about the hundreds of poor choices I made before that moment and can’t judge me for them.”

  “I wouldn’t anyway.”

  She smiled at me. Darby was a heaven I could believe in.

  “You’re a decent human being, Trex. Even if you are an atheist.”

  I puffed out a laugh. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “I don’t like that you’re an atheist—whatever you are—but I can still like you, I guess.”

  “Well, that’s not very Christian-like.”

  She glared at me. “We all come short of the glory of God.”

  “That’s convenient.”

  “Ugh! Why don’t you just leave and let me work?”

  She was still smiling. She didn’t mean it, and that made my insides do backflips and high fives and fist bumps and chest bumps. Darby made me feel like a boy and a superhero at the same time. I was decent because to her, I wasn’t a monster. If she knew more about me, she might change her mind.

  I lifted my wrist. “I’d let you work, but you’ve been off for half an hour.”

  “I have?” she asked, reaching for my watch.

  My arm in her hand was the best thing I’d felt in a long time, and I let the muscles in my arm relax, letting her hang on as long as she needed. Her skin was so soft and warm. The sudden urge to touch the rest of her came over me.

  “I have,” she repeated. She looked at me and then at the front desk. Ander was leaned against the wall, tapping away at his phone. Her eyes fell to my lips. “An atheist. I’m so disappointed in you, Trex.”

  “We just have religious differences. I don’t really think you’re crazy. Maybe a little misled.”

  She leaned in, still staring at my lips. Her breath was sweet, the ice cream still lingering on the tongue I wanted in my mouth. I couldn’t have thought of anything else in that moment if I needed to.

  “I have a long, bad history with jerks,” she said.

  “I can pretend to be one long enough to get your attention.”

  “You have it.”

  I swallowed. I’d never met anyone like Darby. She was like crack and Christmas.

  She paused a few inches from my face, blinking as if a spell had been broken. “I should probably…” She stood, bending down to pick up the trash from our meal.

  “I’ll get it,” I said. “You should rest.” I stood. “You look exhausted.”

  She looked up at me. “Is that a dig at my looks, or are you trying to take care of me?”

  I pretended to think about it. “Definitely the latter.”

  “I am tired.”

  “Good night, then.” I stared down at her, never needing to kiss someone so bad in my life.

  “You want to kiss me, don’t you?”

  “Have you ever been alone with a man who hasn’t?”

  She thought about that. “Besides my dad and brother? No.”

  “Maybe it’s best that we don’t. Atheists are terrible kissers.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Tastes like sulfur.”

  She giggled. “I guess that means I’ll taste like clouds and sunshine?”

  “I was hoping for ice cream,” I said.

  My answer stunned her for a moment, and then she touched my chest, pretending to look at the buttons on my shirt as she contemplated what to do next. I leaned into her hand until I could feel the warmth of her skin through my shirt. Guilt shadowed her face. She patted me twice, and I knew our night was over.

  “I’m sorry. I’m not…I can’t.”

  “Don’t apologize. Really. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

  She looked disappointed as she waved. “Good night,” she said, walking to her room.

  After she disappeared from sight, Ander looked over at me. “Ouch.”

  “Shut up, kid,” I said, bending down to pick up the leftover ice cream cups, milk cartons, and plastic wrap.

  “Stavros said something bad happened to her.”

  I frowned, carrying the trash to the garbage can, tossing it in. “Yeah.”

  “Do you know what it was?”

  “No,” I lied, protecting her secret and myself. Before I knew her, I’d have wanted to kill anyone for hurting her. Now it would be all I could do not to call in favors and hunt the bastard down.

  “Well, whatever it was, he was a soldier or something. My grandma said she’s sworn off military, firefighters, cops…so it’s not you. I can tell she likes you. It’s just that she’s not interested in your type anymore.”

  “Have a good night, Ander.”

  Ander bobbed his head once, and I could feel his eyes on me as I walked to the stairs. Darby was a mess, I was a mess, and continuing to talk to her was just asking for trouble. I couldn’t tell her about my job, and even if I could, she would write me off, anyway.

  I didn’t think I could hate the man she left behind more, but with that one thought, I wanted him dead.

  Chapter Eight

  Darby

  I hugged the toilet while my body expelled the crackers I’d eaten before getting out of bed—a trick I’d read in one of the pregnancy books I’d checked out from the library the morning before. Most of the day was spent reading The Girlfriends’ Guide to Pregnancy, stopping only when it was time to eat and then again when I had to get ready for work.

  Talking to Trex had felt so natural, so refreshing that I’d forgotten to eat all night. I would gladly listen to his story all over again. I wasn’t sure if it was just to spend more time with him, or because I found him fascinating. After a short sleep and a few more crackers, I was still sick. I’d have to set my alarm for three a.m. to eat, so Bean didn’t have to wait so long between snacks. There was a grocery store down the road. I could get a few items to hold me over until payday.

  It was maddening, knowing that it took just one particularly handsome, seemingly nice man to forget to take care of myself and Bean. From the moment we met, Trex’s light blue eyes watched me like I was the center of his universe. His dark, wavy hair and constant five o’clock shadow was so different from Shawn that it was easy to believe the rest of him would be different, too. I shook the thought from my head. I’d begun this journey making decisions for two.

  I’d hoped that leaving Shawn and Texas behind would turn me into a new person. The self-loathing I felt at that moment for still being the same silly, trusting girl I was before forced the tears welling in my eyes down my cheeks. Was I so emotionally crippled that I’d cling to anyone kind to me? Attention was something I was used to. For a long time, I thought it was something I’d done, some signal I was sending telling men to target me, but a few reruns of Oprah finally convinced me of something that should’ve been obvious: What happened to me as a girl wasn’t my fault. Simply smiling at or being nice to a man wasn’t an invitation. It was frightening to recognize that I was still desperate for someone to trust. Desperation was a strong tether that kept me bound to Shawn for so long. I couldn’t let it push me toward someone else.

  I flushed the toilet and pushed off the tile floor, washed my hands, and then squeezed a dollop of mint-green toothpaste onto my brand-new toothbrush. As I scrubbed my teeth in small circles, I turned to the side to see if my belly was pooched out yet. It was flat as ever, maybe even flatter. I wondered if I was losing weight, and amid the hundreds of other worries, wondered if the baby was still okay. Through the Internet on the front-desk computer, I found that Planned Parenthood took Medica
id, but I had to get to the Department of Human Services to apply, and it was at least five miles away. Gauging by my walk time to the library, it would take me at least an hour and a half. Only being able to make one errand per day was frustrating.

  Someone knocked on the door, and I froze, wondering if it was Trex. He was supposed to be at work, but I couldn’t think of who else it would be. I walked into the entry and held one eye shut to look through the peephole. It was Stavros.

  “Yes?” I asked.

  “Morning, sunshine. Think you can handle things by yourself today? Tilde switched with Ander today, but she has a respiratory virus or something and Ander has a thing, so I need someone for the three to eleven.” The chain jingled and the lock clicked as I opened the door. Stavros gasped. “You look like hell. You sick, too?”

  I shook my head. “No,” I said quickly. “No, I’m fine.”

  “Maya can work until three. She’s typically the day shifter on weekends and she fills in. She needs the hours, so that’s covered, thank goodness.”

  “I’m not sure how to close out my shift. Tilde was supposed to show me that tonight.”

  “I can help you. Ander said you’ll do fine on the night shift. Said you were still in the lobby at midnight.”

  “Um…”

  “I’ll make sure he comes in early to help. We’re expecting more hotshots, anyway.”

  I was relieved he didn’t need me to admit that I wasn’t ready to close out on my own. “More hotshots?”

  He nodded. “Don’t worry. You’ve got this.”

  I nodded, watching Stavros make his way back down the hall. My stomach lurched, and I ran to the bathroom, falling to my knees and heaving. Nothing came up, and I hadn’t closed the lid from the last time I was sick. Bean was determined to remind me I was pregnant. Alone, on the floor, sick and tired, it was easier to feel like I’d traveled to another planet rather than another state. Downtime had mostly consisted of reading and sleeping, but moments like this reminded me I had no one. I wondered if Shawn was looking for me, if Carly was worried, if Mom had even bothered to call. The wives on base had probably created twenty different scenarios for why I left, what happened to me, and where I went.