The Light Before Us

by Stephanie Vercier

  He lets out a breath, lowers his head, then says, “Just picking up a to-go order… got enough for two…” Then he trails off and puts on that smile of his again. “Anyway, I saw you and figured I’d say hi. Everything okay?”

  Until now, Will looked like he was just tolerating Jack’s presence at our table, but with that last question, he rolls his eyes, and I note a vein throbbing in his forehead. He might have been showing his humorous side just a few minutes ago, but all of that is being wiped away by an obvious ill-manner that seems to be seeping from his pores. He doesn’t even know who Jack is, and yet he’s insulting him with his demeanor.

  Jack appears to key in on this as his posture stiffens, and he crosses his thick, muscled arms over his chest and pretty much stares Will down. I half expect Will to want to start some kind of pissing match with Jack, but he looks away, folds his hands on the table and silently fumes.

  “Yes, I’m fine,” I assure Jack who continues sending daggers at Will. “I drove here myself, and I’ll get back home by myself.”

  Jack’s gaze returns to me. “You sure you’re good?”

  I nod. “Seriously. I’m okay.”

  He looks at me like he doesn’t believe me, then says, “Fine, but you let me know if you need anything.” Then he turns to Will. “You better take care of her.”

  Will is dismissive, barely looking at Jack when he says, “Yeah, sure.”

  Jack stalls a moment or two, giving me one last look, like it’s my last chance to get him to help me abort this date if that’s what I need him to do. When I just sit here and pretty much stare back at him, he sighs.

  “Take care,” he says, and then walks back to the counter.

  I watch each and every step that he makes, having half a mind to get up, tell Will this was a mistake and catch up with Jack. I’d be so much happier at his side, wouldn’t I? I’d rather go home with him now than stay sitting here across from Will, but I don’t make a move.

  When he reaches the counter, there’s a bag of food waiting for him. He pays while the hostess who’d been eyeing Will pretty much drools over Jack. And then when he turns to leave, his eyes barely even grazing over to me, another woman comes to the side of the hostess, biting at her lip and staring after Jack as he leaves the building, the two of them giggling like schoolgirls.

  And while the hostess’ attention to Will was only mildly annoying, her and her friend drooling over Jack truly bothers me. I turn to the window overlooking the parking lot and watch Jack climb into his truck. Once in, it looks like he pulls out his phone and types something into it before starting the truck and pulling out of the lot.

  “Uh… Natalie… hello! Who the fuck was that guy exactly?”

  Like I’ve been pulled out of a trance, I look at Will. “What?”

  “You didn’t hear me the first time? Who is that guy?”

  I’m about to answer him when my phone chirps.

  “He’s just a family friend,” I say, digging into my purse, grabbing my phone and finding a text from Jack.

  “That it?” Will narrows his eyes at me when I lift my head.

  “Yes, that’s it.” I casually glance back down at my phone to read the message.

  If you need anything, let me know.

  The text makes me smile, makes me feel safe, makes me feel so very many good things about Jack.

  “You sure about that?” Will pushes.

  I think of how many years of unacceptable behavior I allowed Michael to get away with before telling Will, “You didn’t have to be so rude to him. He was just coming over to say hi.”

  “Seemed like more than that to me.” He digs into the last bits of steak in front of him and shoves a piece of meat into his mouth.

  “And the hostess not even acknowledging my existence wasn’t too much?” I volley right back at him. “Look, Will, I thought you seemed like a decent enough guy, but if this is the kind of behavior you show on a first date, I’d really hate to see the way you act on the second.”

  This seems to be about the last thing he’d imagine hearing from a woman because his eyes widen like he’s about to be hit by a semi. Then he swallows the last bit of his chewed up food, finally hanging his mouth halfway open.

  “I’ll pay for my own dinner.” I pull my wallet out, hoping I’ll have enough to cover it.

  “Uh… no… I said it was my treat,” he tells me, his entire demeanor suddenly conciliatory.

  I wave the waitress down without responding to him and ask her to split the bill. She nods and gives Will a bit of a look that makes me think she actually does know him but hadn’t wanted to acknowledge that fact.

  Will quietly fumes across from me, the last few minutes of our meal together tense. I should have probably just gotten right up and walked out on him as soon as I’d paid my bill, but I wanted to make some sort of peace. This being such a small town, I’d rather not already have an enemy in it.

  I think I’ve made the right choice until we’ve finished and moved to the parking lot where he asks, “So, you want to come over to my place?” The look on his face says he expects I actually might say yes to that.

  Seriously?

  “I should really be getting home.” I’m hoping the mild look of shock that is surely covering my face tells him how ridiculous his invite is.

  “Just thought I’d ask,” he replies with a mild note of anger.

  “Good night, Will.”

  I can’t get to my car fast enough, and once I’m in with the doors locked, I allow myself a sigh of relief.

  Instead of heading right back to the cabin, I drive around town for a while, debriefing myself on what amounted to, at the very least, an unpleasant date. It didn’t go at all the way I’d imagined a first date should go, but I’m not overly upset about the bottom line being there definitely won’t be a second date with Will. Even if he hadn’t had that little meltdown when Jack arrived, my heart wouldn’t be in it, not with him or any other guy.

  Except for Jack.

  By the time I make it back to the cabin, it’s nearly dark out. Parking next to Jack’s truck like I always do, I hear the electric saw humming in the back. I’m tempted to wave hello to Jack, but I end up going the other way and go in through the front door.

  “Oh!” It’s the sight of Blue sitting on the kitchen counter that startles me. He’s licking one of his paws and only stops to acknowledge my presence when I get close to him. “So, you’ve become a house cat I see.” I rub a hand over his silky black fur, to which he purrs loudly. “If I knew I’d be seeing you, I would have saved you some of my fish from dinner.”

  I almost think Blue understands me because, as soon as I mention fish, he jumps off of the counter and darts through to the small hall where the back door leads to the mud room. Curiosity propels me to follow him, and, as promised, Jack has put two cat doors in, one in the door to the mud room and the other to the door out back. Since I’m already pretty much outside, there’s no sense in not saying hi to Jack. As soon as I’m heading down the back stairs, the hum of the saw stops, and he’s lifting his head to me.

  “You’ve made progress,” I say of the cat doors and framework he’s begun on the back porch, my steps closer to him being tentative ones.

  “You can do a lot in a day.” He takes his safety goggles off, then pulls up the bottom of his T shirt to wipe the sweat from his face off, revealing his toned, glistening stomach and the trail of hair that grows down from his belly button. “I see you’re finally back from your date.”

  “Hmm?” I lift my eyes and swallow hard.

  “Your date.” He walks out from behind the table saw.

  “It wasn’t really a date,” I say, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through me as I take another few steps closer to him.

  “No? So you aren’t going out with the guy again?” There is an obvious strain on his face, and, more than anything, I wish I knew exactly what the thoughts in his head are.

  “If you’re worried about trying to protect me because o
f whatever you think you owe my parents—” I stop and shake my head. “Look, thank you for the text, Jack, but I’m a grown woman. You aren’t obligated to watch over me, okay?”

  “Natalie… it’s not…” He sighs and eats up the space between us. “You going to hold my worry for you against me?”

  He is so real, strong, and absolutely beautiful that when I look up into his deep brown eyes, I actually feel hurt, a deep kind of longing, the kind that could twist up your insides. I want to be able to say the right thing, to be strong and independent, but the feelings I have for him—perhaps unrequited—lead me to cover my face and break down in tears that even I’m not expecting.

  “Hey… hey…” He pulls me close to his chest, and I don’t fight him.

  I don’t tell him how much it hurts to be this close to him while at the same time feeling so far. I don’t mention how my attraction to him makes me feel as though I’m betraying Marjorie, even if she’d been the one to leave him and not the other way around. I don’t dare let him in on the fact that I’d give almost anything to see him as only a friend and nothing more because that would make it hurt so much less. And if I can’t do that, then I’m not sure how much longer I can stay in this cabin with him.

  Still holding me to his chest, he says, “You need to let your parents know you’re okay.” There’s such resolution in his voice. “I feel like I’m getting to know you better, Natalie, and I think maybe keeping this from them is weighing on you.”

  I let out a few last whimpers before I step out of his arms and wipe my tears. Jack has it all wrong. Feeling guilt for not telling my parents that I’m in Meadow Brook isn’t at all what’s first on my mind. But he’s probably right about letting them know. It’s the decent thing to do, and keeping up the lie puts an incredibly unfair weight on his shoulders.

  “I know you’re right, Jack, but I don’t know how to… well, I don’t know how to contact them without them being able to trace where I’m at.”

  “Come on. Let’s go sit.” He takes my hand in his much larger one and leads me over to the two Adirondacks, both of us taking a seat. “I’ve looked into it,” he tells me, leaning forward in the chair, his hands folded. “We should be able to set up a proxy server. I’ve already bought a computer, and I’m getting cable Internet hooked up tomorrow. That way, you can send an email or whatever, and they shouldn’t be able to trace it.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Nothing is foolproof, but I’m pretty sure this is our best option.”

  “You’ve put more thought into this than I have.”

  “I just think they’d really like to know you’re okay,” he reiterates. “If I had a daughter, that’s all that I’d want.”

  “But you don’t, Jack. And, if you did, you’d make a much better father than—”

  Sadness overwhelms his eyes, and I don’t go on. I’ve hit a sore spot I hadn’t meant to.

  “You’re right. I don’t.” He hangs his head, and I reach out, lightly touching his shoulder.

  “Can I ask why you and Marjorie never had children?” I press on, knowing it’s rude to ask but willing to take the risk because he might actually want to talk about it.

  He’s hesitant, and I think he might just change the subject back to the proxy server, but he eventually says, “Because we waited too long, or I should say, I waited too long.”

  “I’m sure you had your reasons,” I offer.

  People wait to have children for all sorts of reasons while others jump right into the deep end. My own mother was in her mid twenties when she had me, and I’ve since come to the conclusion that neither of my parents had a deep-seated need for a child. Rather, I think they had me because it’s what people do, because not having at least one would raise questions about fertility or suitability. But with Jack and Marjorie, I’d just always envisioned them with a houseful of kids, children that would be welcomed, loved and cherished. Even Michael had seen it.

  “Security and wanting to be sure our kids had a solid foundation,” Jack explains, having lifted his head, his clasped hands steepled and supporting his chin.

  “But didn’t you already have that? I mean, your father started the clinic, so you were set, right?” It’s not that I’m trying to disprove Jack—it’s only that I’m genuinely curious and want to know as much about this man as I can.

  He lets out a short laugh, as if I’ve hit the nail on the head. “My dad had taught me the importance of family, of taking time, but he also taught me about responsibility. My mom was in her early forties when she had me, and my dad was practically ancient by the time I graduated college. They believed in front loading the work and sacrifice so that they wouldn’t have to struggle when they had kids, so that they could give us… well, me… the life they felt I deserved.”

  “A fellow only child,” I say, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “I can see the value in that line of thinking.”

  “Sure, but it didn’t work out very well for me in the end, did it?”

  I slide my hand away from his shoulder, then take a moment to square my thoughts before opening my mouth again. “But how could you know, Jack? I barely saw my dad growing up, and Mom was always busy planning social functions or having the house remodeled. Besides those times here at the cabin and those few years when I felt like my family was normal, Cynthia seemed more like a mother to me. If I had my choice, I would have rather been born to parents that had already built their empire, who could sit back, relax and make me their focus. You had the right idea, Jack, because, as it’s been, I don’t feel anything like the bond I think I’m supposed to with them.”

  He drops his hands back to his thighs, then bows his head, nodding ever so slightly. “You’re probably right, Natalie, but sometimes you run out of time.”

  I allow that to settle within me, to know that Jack has regrets and that maybe my words won’t change that. He’d managed to lose Marjorie, and while I still don’t know all of the specifics of their breakup, I know something major had to have happened for them to part ways. Maybe Jack hadn’t been willing to follow her timeline for children, and maybe Marjorie decided she didn’t want to be a doctor’s wife anymore. I don’t even want to entertain the idea that one of them might have cheated on the other—it’s possible of course, but it would destroy the perfect image I’d had of them.

  “I’ll do the proxy server thing,” I tell him, completely switching gears because I just want to give him one less thing to worry about.

  He’s not as ready to shift topics as I am, and it takes a good ten seconds before he responds. “Okay, good. We’ll figure it all out.”

  We’ll figure it all out.

  I wonder if he means more than just the proxy server. But I don’t ask, and he doesn’t volunteer anything else. We both just sort of look out at the lake, silence not feeling like such a horrible thing.

  Chapter Thirteen

  NATALIE

  Three weeks.

  It’s really been that long since I’d fallen into Jack’s chest and cried like a baby. He seemed to think my emotional breakdown was partially about guilt I had in not communicating with my parents, and I’d scoffed at the idea. But I think he was at least partially right.

  We’d done the proxy server thing, and instead of just an email, I sent a video, complete with a white sheet backdrop so as not to give them any clues I was staying at the cabin. I basically poured my heart out to them, letting them know how sorry I was for whatever embarrassment or hurt I’d put them through, but that I simply couldn’t commit to living a life with a man I didn’t love, a man they had to know didn’t truly respect me. I made sure to tell them I was safe and that I was allowing time for things to cool down and to finally take some time on my own. What I didn’t mention was that I’d been afraid going home would mean being talked back into marrying Michael—if he’d even have me—and that I’d have felt so overwhelmed and outnumbered that I might not have built up the strength to say no. If that were to happen, running out of my wedding would ha
ve been for nothing.

  What I got in return was a terse email my parents seemed to have collaborated on. It angered me the first time I’d read through it, and my initial, emotionally driven thought was to delete it and to never read it again. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that maybe re-reading it was exactly what I needed, to face the worst of what my parents had to say and build up an armor to their words.

  It’s the first thing I do when I wake up today, my day off from helping Barbara. Sitting up in bed, I pull up the email on my phone and read.

  Natalie,

  While we are glad to hear you are safe, the fact that you won’t tell us where you are remains incredibly selfish on your part. We are glad you understand that you embarrassed us, and we are still dealing with the ramifications of your actions. You surely must realize how much the wedding cost, not only monetarily, but in time and effort. Refunds for an event of this magnitude do not exist, and that’s tens of thousands of dollars we’ll never see again, not to mention the wedding dress we assume is now worthless.

  We thought we had raised a more responsible and reliable daughter, but we fear we are wrong on that count. Perhaps we should have insisted you go to college closer to home or not allowed you to shift your major. We thought we were being generous in allowing you to make some of your own life choices, but we now see that generosity has led you to an unwise path.

  It may not even need mention, as I’m sure you can imagine, but Michael is beside himself and starving for answers as to why you would leave him in such a way. Think, for a moment, how you would have felt had Michael walked out on you. Could you have taken the stares that followed or the disappointment when you’d been unable to bring him back to you?

  What is noteworthy about Michael is that he still loves you and is willing to forgive you. We have spent considerable time speaking with him, and he is even willing to take you back, to give you and he a second chance at a life together. But he can’t very well do that with you hiding out at some undisclosed location, now can he?