Guilt festered within her. She should have waved, should have acknowledged him in some way. He’d been a loyal friend, a shoulder to cry on more times than she could count, and she had just stood there wishing she could erase the last twenty-six years.
Asher was talking to her again, but she heard only the last word. She should say something back, but it was too hard to speak. The stinging clawed at her. Ringing pierced her ears. “I need to go in there.” The words came out a whisper, but they were the antidote she needed to get back under control.
He tensed. His eyes jumped to hers, then past her to the closed door of the bar. “Joe’s?”
“Just for a little while. If you’re uncomfortable, you can stay out here.” She eased away, ready to do this on her own. But just as he had with the ring, Asher fell in step next to her.
“I’m fine. Let’s go. They’ll text when the table is ready anyway.”
They only made it five feet before her palms began to sweat. She wiped them on her dress, but her anxiety only worsened. In the past, she never would have shown up there dressed this way. Guys would have hit on her, which would either tick her off or get Cooper into a fistfight. Both scenarios led to fiery showdowns between them later. But that had been their life: one argument after another. One battle either lost or won.
Asher laced his hand in hers. “You’re trembling.”
“I know. I’m terrified.”
“Then why are we going in here?”
“Because I’m more terrified of what happens if I don’t.” She knew it didn’t make any sense. Just like searching for the ring didn’t make sense. There was a reason she worked so hard to compartmentalize. Because when faced with her demons, she always ran, and she didn’t want to be that person anymore.
A blast of cold air hit her face when she pushed open the door. Smells that took her back in time bombarded her senses, as did the black laminate bar, dark-leathered barstools, and mismatched tables shoved everywhere to accommodate patrons.
Music drifted from corner speakers, and Katie couldn’t stop the grin. It must have been Laila’s night to choose. Acoustic, depressing alternative rock filled the room.
Joe walked in from the back and stopped short when he saw her and Asher standing right inside the doorway. His gaze slid to their joined hands, and while Katie tried to pull away, Asher tightened his grip. She hadn’t planned to make a statement, but they’d done so all the same.
“Well, call me a chicken and fry me up. Our Katie has finally come home.”
She’d expected sarcasm, disappointment, scowling. She didn’t expect the warm bear hug he gave her or the kind way he shook Asher’s hand. She didn’t expect him to offer a round of drinks on the house or to compliment her.
But he did all those things, in perfect Joe fashion.
“Sit down. Sit down,” he said, patting the bar. “Tell me all that you’ve been up to.”
“I just came in to say hi really quick. We’re waiting on a table.”
“Well, you can wait here just as good as out there.” He strolled behind the bar, grabbed two glasses. “Asher, what can I get you?”
“A Coke is good.”
“Me too,” Katie added after seeing Joe pull out the liquor bottles to make her favorite drink.
He raised an eyebrow but poured their soda without a word.
Asher acknowledged a group in the corner, and two of them shoved their glasses behind menus. He smirked, probably used to people reacting that way.
“Wanna go say hi? They’re some guys from the gym I used to play basketball with,” he said.
Joe wiped down the counter, watching her.
“No, you go ahead. I want to talk to Joe anyway.”
She couldn’t tell if it bothered him, but he didn’t argue. He walked over to the table, long legs carrying him confidently across the bar as if tomorrow his name wouldn’t be on the lips of everyone in town. She was good at making everyone believe she didn’t care what they thought, but Asher truly didn’t. It was inspiring.
Joe came back around the bar and sat, patting a stool next to him. “Come talk to me.”
She did with trepidation, keeping an eye on Laila, who hadn’t once acknowledged their presence.
“Interesting company,” he said before Katie even settled. “I’d heard the rumors, but man, seeing it myself was just as shocking.”
“Does it bother you, Asher being in here?”
“Me? No. Christians. Non-Christians. They all pretty much look the same around last call.” A smile tugged at his bearded lip. “Now his church members, on the other hand, are all a little squirmy.”
Katie laughed, remembering how she used to think the same, that all Christians did was notice and judge everyone’s actions. But the truth was, she didn’t have time to judge everyone else. She was too busy judging herself.
Laila slammed her tray on the bar a few feet from them and filled two glasses of draft. Mouth tight, eyes locked on her goal, she looked ready to implode at any moment.
They watched her until she disappeared back out on the floor.
“She’ll come around,” he said. “Laila can’t stay mad at the people she cares about. We all know Chad exploited that virtue as much as he could when they were together.”
“How is he?” Katie nursed an inch of her soft drink and avoided eye contact. If she looked at him, he would see how responsible she felt. He would see that Laila had every reason to hate her and probably would for the rest of their lives.
“Bad. He’s been gone a while but still calls when he needs money.”
Katie nodded, expecting no less. When Chad was sober, he was the kindest, funniest, most amazing man in the universe. Off the wagon, he was a manipulative train wreck.
“What about you? Seems a lot’s happened since I saw you last. And don’t bother lying to me. I can see right through you, and Cooper’s already told me everything.”
She wanted to slam her hand on the bar. “When?”
“Not long after you left. He got a tip that a friend had seen you up in Atlanta. He took off, even got put on probation at the factory. Two days later, he came in here, told me what went down, and never said a word about you again.” Joe rubbed his chin, a motion he did only when he wasn’t sure whether to spill or keep his mouth shut. The man had more dirt on people in Fairfield than anyone, but he rarely talked. “You messed him up pretty bad, kid.”
“The damage was mutual.”
His voice softened. “That’s probably true. So Jacksonville, huh?”
“Yeah. Then Tallahassee.”
“Who’d you stay with?”
“Friends. Strangers. Whoever would take me in. Sometimes I stayed in my car.”
“You could have come to me. I would have helped you.”
She met his eyes. “How?”
He didn’t have an answer to give her, because there was none. Just like now. Her only chance for restitution had been smashed in the pages of that plastic blue binder. “I found the ring, but it was sold two years ago on eBay. I thought maybe, just maybe, if I could make one thing right, then all this pain I’ve caused would go away, or at least be lessened.”
She’d spoken without thinking. She shouldn’t be saying these things out loud. Not here. Not to Joe.
He exhaled. “It’s just a ring, Katie. An object. Finding it, not finding it. Who cares? It doesn’t change anything. But walking in here tonight, coming to see me after years in hiding. Now that’s how you start to heal hurts.”
Katie saw Asher approach and slid off the stool to meet him.
“Text says they’re ready. Are you?”
She eyed Joe, who was still watching her with that thoughtful stare. The one that said she should stay and try to reconcile with the people she’d so callously left behind.
“I’m ready. Good to see you, Joe.”
He stood, disappointed. “You too, Katie. Don’t be a stranger anymore.”
Asher said his good-byes, and they left the bar. Only fifteen min
utes had passed, yet the sky was now darker, the mood between them altered. Once again her past had ruined what she wanted to build with him.
“Was that horrible for you?” she asked when he didn’t say anything.
“It was interesting.” He stopped, carefully watched her. “I won’t lie. That place isn’t somewhere I want to go on a regular basis. It’s not me.”
“I know that. It’s not me anymore, either.” She threw herself into him, wrapping her arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest. “Why am I so confused?”
His chin rested on her head and he squeezed her close. “Because you can’t have a future until you accept the past. That doesn’t mean you have to live the way you used to, but it does mean you can’t deny what made you who you are. You made mistakes. Own them and move on.”
“Okay.” Her voice came out hoarse. “I’ll tell Ms. Blanchard what happened. I’ll tell her after church tomorrow.”
Asher’s hand cradled her face, his mouth touching hers with a softness reserved for only the most precious of moments. “And I’ll be right there with you.”
CHAPTER 38
Katie couldn’t move. She could only sit and stare at the small white house she hadn’t seen in years. A sad déjà vu flickered in the air. That night had been an avalanche of one bad choice after another. The regrets. There were so many. The ring, the fight with Cooper, the moment she handed kryptonite to her best friend.
She’d fled Chad’s place disoriented, the high leaking out and taking with it her consciousness.
She hadn’t awoken until after midnight, parked half on the driveway and half on Mary’s manicured lawn. Katie had thrown up twice in the bushes before using her key to get into the house. She’d just wanted water and a toilet. She’d never once thought about the consequences of what she’d done.
Mary had been awake, frantically searching drawer after drawer.
I’ve lost it, she’d said. Help me look, Katie. It was my mother’s.
Katie hadn’t known, when she took the ring, that it meant so much. She thought it was costume junk, the ugliest thing in Mary’s box of treasures. But it had been so much more, and as Mary told her about London and the bombings and how her mom slipped her wedding ring on young Mary’s finger before she was shipped to America, Katie knew she could never face her employer again.
She’d quit. Right then, with no notice, with no visible remorse. She left Mary to her search, to scouring for a ring she knew would never be found. An hour later, Katie was on the road to Jacksonville with twenty unanswered calls on her cell phone and the knowledge that she had almost killed one best friend and ruined the other.
Oh, to be given one do-over in life.
“I can’t do this,” she whispered, her fingers tight around the steering wheel.
“Yes, you can,” Asher said, rubbing at the rocks in her shoulders.
They’d gone to lunch at his parents’ with at least fifteen other people. She couldn’t eat. Not just because it was weird, uncomfortable, and way too crowded, but also because she’d told Asher she would come here and tell the truth. She’d made a promise she knew she couldn’t keep.
“She’ll hate me.” That was only part of her hesitation. The other part, the deeper part, was that she couldn’t offer more than an apology. She couldn’t even give her hope that the ring might be found. Katie had stolen a piece of this woman’s history, her past, her connection to her mother. “Sorry” was so inadequate; it was insulting.
“Probably.” Asher’s reply only made her sink further into the seat. “But that’s her choice to make. Your choice is to face up to what you did. Consequences are part of that.” He shifted uncomfortably in the passenger seat, and she wondered if he was thinking of Jillian and how after all this time, she still had never apologized for her lies.
Katie reached for the handle before she could talk herself out of going. She wanted his respect, and they could never move forward with this lie hanging between them. Asher deserved to be with someone who was brave.
“Do you want me to come?” he asked when she’d slipped one leg out of the car.
“No. Just don’t go anywhere. I may need you to bail me out of jail.” The words were offered teasingly, but they both knew an arrest was a real possibility. She didn’t know the actual value of the ring but felt certain it exceeded the threshold for a misdemeanor charge. If Mary wanted to press charges, she could. The statute of limitations didn’t apply if the theft was not reported.
She slammed the door shut. Her hands were shaking, her knees practically knocking as she walked the uneven sidewalk to the front door. Memories attacked her from all sides: Cooper standing behind a mower, running a towel over his head, winking at her and making comments about what he’d do to her later.
She’d actually thought they were compliments, the crude ways he talked to her. They meant she was attractive and sexy, but in truth, they only made her feel cheap, though she’d never realized it until Asher. He was the first one to treat her like a whole person, not just body parts that looked good in a short skirt.
Katie lifted her hand to knock, pushing back at the pressing thoughts. She needed to pray. Asher had even offered to do it with her. But she felt helpless to ask God to intervene. Why would He? She’d done this. She’d dug this terrible hole of deception. He had no reason to come to her rescue.
The door moved and Katie fought every instinct to run away. She thought of Slim and the way he’d held the ring between his fingers. He knew she was desperate, knew she’d take anything he offered.
Mary Blanchard appeared in the doorway, using her walker for support. A musty smell of neglect pulsed from the open foyer. “Katie?” She said the name with affection and surprise.
“Hi, Mary.” They stood there, staring at each other. Mary was confused, Katie could tell that right away. She probably hadn’t even known Katie had come back to Fairfield. “Do you have a minute to talk?”
The woman beamed as if having company was a luxury. And it probably was. She had no family left. Her husband had died ten years ago, and they’d lost their only son in a car accident when he was in his thirties. Hers was a life of tragedy, yet she was always faithful about going to church, every Sunday, arthritis or not.
“Come in, girlie. It’s been what, years?” Her voice shook a little, as did her chin. She backed away slowly, carefully moving her walker around in the tight area.
“Yes, ma’am. Four years.”
“You’re still so pretty. Always thought that. So did that man of yours, if I recall.”
Katie smiled. She always liked that about Mary. The woman didn’t use much of a filter, but everything she’d say came out sounding sweet and funny because, well, she was barely five feet, with white hair and bright blue eyes.
She followed Mary into the living room, where the smell of sour chicken stock and urine was more fragrant than the plug-in fresheners put there to mask it. Indignation rose in Katie’s chest. Her caretaker should be cleaning. It was part of the job, and Mary paid better than most.
“Do you have someone helping you still?” she asked while picking up the morning’s newspaper from the couch.
“Oh yes. Lovely girl. She drives me to the beauty parlor and to church.”
And obviously did nothing else.
Mary eased into her recliner, the one six inches higher than the rest of the furniture so she could get in and out without assistance. “I’ve wondered about you,” she said after settling.
“I’ve wondered about you too. I’m sorry I left like I did. It was wrong.” Katie pushed at invisible wrinkles in her dress.
“You were so upset.” Mary’s chin shook again as if remembering was zapping all her energy. “I didn’t know what I’d done to make you so angry.”
A lump crushed Katie’s throat. She tried to swallow it, but it only pressed further, stinging her eyes with pain. “I was angry at myself. Not you. I’d done something terrible.” She stopped when the first tear fell.
�
�Oh, darling, we all do terrible things.”
She shouldn’t cry. It was unfair to Mary. She deserved to be punished, not consoled.
“Not this,” Katie whispered.
Her former employer watched her with misplaced compassion. She needed to just say it. Rip off the Band-Aid and face the horror of what she’d done.
“You didn’t lose your mother’s ring. I stole it. The day before I left. I stole it while you were napping. Then I sold it for drugs.” She wanted to add that she didn’t know its real value, but wouldn’t let herself. It was an excuse to try and minimize the crime.
The air pulsed with silence. Mary hadn’t reacted, or moved, even. Katie wiped her eyes, wrung her hands. She had no more words left that were any good.
Mary stared at the TV but didn’t seem to be focused on it. “My mother gave it to me on the platform, right as the train was pulling up. She was crying because I think she knew she wouldn’t survive the war. It didn’t fit my finger, so she slid it on my thumb, told me to keep it close to my heart and she’d always be there.” A tear slipped down her aged cheek. “I was going to give it to my son. But then the Lord took him too.”
Breathing had become an afterthought, and the pain in Katie’s chest was like an iron fist crushing her heart. She wanted to squeeze her eyes shut so she couldn’t see the tears. Press her hands to her ears so she couldn’t hear the heart-wrenching ache in Mary’s voice. She’d done this. She’d caused this pain.
“I searched for that ring for months. Even hired movers to shift around furniture. I prayed a thousand prayers. Retraced my steps a thousand times. Until finally I came to the conclusion it had been thrown out somehow. That I had been so careless, I’d let it slip off the counter and into the wastebasket.”
“I’m so sorry, Mary.” So empty. So little. So completely unworthy. Katie hung her head, wanting to grab the phone and call the cops herself.
My Hope Next Door Page 23