Parker Security Complete Series

by Camilla Blake

  “I’m not trying to fight with you,” Aoife said, but there was a vindictiveness in her voice now, and I knew exactly where this was headed. Every eight years or so, Aoife and I would get into a huge argument—usually about something stupid—that would result in the two of us not speaking for a period of at least three months, but usually no more than six. We were at about the eight-year mark, and from her tone, I knew that she wasn’t about to back down. “I guess what I’m trying to do is understand how it is that someone in your position could come across as so... so... just so ungrateful! Don’t you realize what you have? Don’t you understand how many people would trade positions with you in a heartbeat if they could? But here you are, talking about how you’re just going to stop because you went out and had a nice weekend in the woods. I just don’t think that I can stay on the phone and listen to any more of this.”

  “That’s fine,” I said, trying to keep my voice even, “and we don’t have to stay on the phone, but I would like to say that I think it’s a little ridiculous you’re getting upset with me about the way I’m choosing to live my life. Am I hurting anyone? No. Am I being reckless or taking advantage of people? Again, no. So I don’t really understand why you feel the need to lecture me about something I really just said in passing—that not being tethered to my phone was actually nice and that at some point, I’m probably not going to have an Instagram account. What is the problem with that?”

  “You’re allowed to do whatever you want,” she said coolly. “But it just seems like you don’t realize how good you have it. Which is typical, Teagan. You’ve always been like that. And I’m not the only person who thinks this.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yes, I know Mom thinks she knows what’s best for me, too.”

  “I’m not just talking about Mom.”

  “Who, then?”

  “I can recall overhearing Elliott talk to Mom on several occasions about how you just took the relationship for granted.”

  I had to bite my lip to keep from bursting out laughing. “Elliott?” I said. “You’re bringing up Elliott? Whom you hate, might I remind you?”

  “He’s not my favorite person, yeah, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t had some valid points. I just... I don’t think it’s good for me to talk to you right now. So I’m going to go. Goodbye.”

  She hung up before I could respond.

  I stared at the phone for a minute before setting it down. Had that conversation really just happened? My head was spinning, like I’d just gotten off one of those tilt-a-whirl rides. All I knew was I had been back to the city, in my apartment, for less than ten minutes and already it felt like my stress level was through the roof. How was it possible to go from one extreme to the next so quickly? All I really wanted was to go back to twenty-four hours ago, when it was just Ben and me, up at his cabin. I had felt so completely at ease, so free of any stress or anxiety, that I didn’t truly realize it until now, now that I was back in the thick of my regular life.

  And what the hell was Aoife’s problem?

  My hands were reaching for my phone, turning it on, scrolling until I found his number, before I even realized what I was doing. I just knew that I needed to hear his voice, even if it was just for a second.

  “Hi there,” Ben said, and if he thought it was strange that I was calling him even though we’d just parted ways, he didn’t let it show. “Everything okay?”

  “Hi,” I said. “I’m sorry to be calling like this. I know you just dropped me off, but in that short period of time, I’ve somehow managed to get into a huge fight with my sister, and it’s just kind of made me realize how nice it was to be up in Guerneville with you this past weekend and not have to worry about any of that stress. And... I guess I just felt compelled to call you and tell you that. I’m sorry. I should let you go.”

  “No, it’s okay,” he said, and his calm voice washed over me. “I was just thinking about you, actually.”

  “You were?”

  “Yeah, of course. I had a great time with you, too. I usually go up there by myself, which has always been fine, but it was nice to have some company. Even if said company claims she isn’t really an outdoor sort of girl.”

  I could hear his smile, which made me smile. Oh, how I wished I had been able to work up the nerve to ask him into my place before he dropped me off—it would’ve completely avoided the phone call with Aoife, too. But... Ben and I were not going to get physical with each other. That wasn’t part of the rules. I had a feeling that if something did happen between us, it would ruin any subsequent chemistry we’d have moving forward. Maybe not at first, but eventually. Well, I didn’t totally think that, but that’s at least what I was telling myself, because I liked whatever it was that was happening between us, just as it was. If we were to get involved, it would probably be amazing at first, but then, as time passed, it would be less amazing, because we’d get to really know each other. We’d begin to irritate each other in little ways, or disappoint each other, because isn’t that how it always went with long-term relationships? Or one of us would realize that we didn’t feel as strongly about the other person as we had thought, which was exactly what had happened with Elliott.

  “I think I could learn to be,” I said to Ben. “I know I have a lot to learn, but... there really was something so peaceful about being up there.”

  “It’s kind of magical, huh? So, what did you and your sister get into a fight about?”

  “I’m not even sure how it all started. I was just telling her about the past weekend, which she couldn’t believe, for a number of reasons.”

  “Couldn’t believe that you went up to Guerneville and hung out in the wilderness?”

  “That and... that I went with you in the first place.” I bit my lip, felt like squirming. This was a little excruciating, but in a good way, in like a middle-school-crush sort of way. I could remember being in eighth grade and realizing that I actually liked a boy in history class, had a crush on him, yet didn’t quite know what to do with those newfound feelings. Because we sat next to each other and were friendly, talking to him wasn’t an issue, but once the realization dawned on me that I liked him as more than just a friend, our conversations suddenly seemed different, in an amazing way. He had no idea and nothing ever happened between us, so to him, I probably just seemed a little more prone to giggling and blushing than I had been. I didn’t even remember anything specific that I’d said to him during this time, but I could clearly conjure up the feeling, the excitement of it, and it was almost identical to what I was feeling right now, all these years later.

  “She doesn’t approve?” Ben asked. “Did you assure her that I was a perfect gentleman?”

  “I did. That’s not what she was worried about, though. She’s the sort of person who can’t fathom doing something like that and not, you know... getting physical.”

  “I know some people who would probably say the same thing. But who cares what they think, at least in regard to that? They’re just really letting you know how they would act in that situation, that’s all. I do hate to think that I caused some sort of fight between you two, though. That certainly wasn’t my intention.”

  “It wasn’t just that. It was also me merely saying that I was thinking about one day not having an Instagram account anymore. Which apparently is so offensive that my sister had to get off the phone.” I sighed. “I’m sorry for calling you. Now that I’m saying it out loud, I realize how stupid the whole thing sounds.”

  “You don’t need to apologize. I’m happy to talk to you. Anytime, really.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “Thank you. Even if you’re just saying that. Hearing the sound of your voice makes me feel better. It’s really strange.”

  He laughed. “Is that so?”

  “I don’t mean it in a bad way. I mean it more in the way that this is the first time I’ve ever experienced something like this with someone. It’s almost hard for me to believe that it’s really even happening, except that I’m experiencing it,
so I have to believe it.” I paused. “I know I’m not making much sense right now, but sometimes you just need to hear something out loud to try to understand it better.”

  “You know what I’m hearing?” Ben asked.

  “What?”

  “It sounds to me like you’re hungry and could go for some tacos right about now. I know I sure could.”

  My stomach did a happy flip. “Why, yes,” I said, “that sounds absolutely wonderful. Would you care to accompany me somewhere to do that? Have any good recommendations?”

  “I just might. Not too far from you. I’ll be by in a little bit, okay?”

  “Sounds good. See you soon.”

  When I got off the phone, I turned my attention back to the card. I pulled it out of the envelope. It was a black-and-white photograph of the shoreline of a rocky beach, with a frothy wave washing up on shore.

  Teagan,

  Thank you so much for the letter you sent. We’ve received countless cards, emails, and other correspondence from people, many of whom I don’t even know. You are one of those people, yet your words were so comforting, it was like we had known each other for a long time. While we might have never met in real life, Cecily had mentioned you on several occasions, and I know she was looking forward to the day the two of you would finally get to meet for real. While that will never happen now, I would be more than happy to talk with you at some point. I didn’t know a whole lot about Cecily’s online life—I’m not much of a tech guy, to be honest. That probably really makes me sound like a dud, which, since Cecily’s gone, I am now realizing I am more than ever. I guess the reason I’m reaching out, aside from to thank you for your kind words, is to let you know that if you’d ever like to talk about Cecily, I would be happy to. I’ve included my phone number at the bottom of this card. No pressure, though—I completely understand if this seems too weird. Either way, I just want to thank you for being a friend to Cecily, and for taking the time to reach out to us the way you did.

  Sincerely,

  David Barrett

  He had scrawled his phone number underneath his name, and I reread his words again. I had written plenty of captions and microblogs on Instagram that people had responded to, sometimes with very heartfelt messages of their own, telling me how much my words meant to them, how what I had written that day had seemed exactly like the message they needed to hear. But for some reason, David’s card—and the words that filled it—made me feel as if I had finally, truly done something right. I couldn’t even remember exactly what I had written in the card I’d sent to him, but apparently it had struck a chord. It had resonated with him, and made him feel better during what was probably one of the worst times of his life.

  I looked back down at the phone number. I wasn’t going to call or text him now, but at some point, I would.

  Chapter 15

  Ben

  Foolish of me to ask Teagan if she wanted to go out and get tacos?

  Quite possibly, but I didn’t care. After I’d dropped her off at her place, I’d continued on, back toward home, feeling the stress of the city infiltrate me immediately. I stopped at a red light and looked to the right, saw a homeless guy taking a piss on the side of a building; a few feet away someone else was slumped over, clearly on the nod. A horn blasted behind me, even though the light was still red, and then further in the distance, the blare of sirens. God, I hated the city sometimes. It was always more acute when I returned from a weekend up at the cabin, but right then it had seemed to be in overdrive. Even the pigeons that were congregating near a bench on the sidewalk looked menacing.

  Dad had dozed off in front of the TV when I got back in, and I went over and grabbed the remote off the coffee table and turned the volume down. The coffee table was littered with empty takeout food containers and a pizza box; clearly he hadn’t had any of the food I’d made and left in the fridge for him before I left. I went out to the kitchen and peered into the fridge; all the containers were in there but none of it looked that appealing.

  And then Teagan called.

  I’d asked about the tacos on impulse, part of me thinking that she wouldn’t want to, but she’d agreed and I’d immediately felt better about being back in the city. It seemed, in a way, similar to what she was saying: being around each other was a sort of salve. I could hear Dad stirring on the couch. I went into the living room just as he sat up and looked blearily around him.

  “When’d you get back?” he asked, rubbing his eyes. “What time is it?”

  “It’s a little after six. And I just got back. I’m actually going to go out again for a little bit, but I’ll be back tonight.”

  “Where are you running off to, if you just got back?”

  “Just going to go get some food. I see that you didn’t eat any of the stuff that I made.”

  “Didn’t feel like tofu and all that shit. Got a pizza. The Widowmaker. Ha ha. And some Chinese food. Good stuff.”

  “I’m going out to get some tacos. I could bring something back for you.”

  “Nah. I’ll just forage for some leftovers in the fridge. There’s some Kung Pao chicken left, I think. I can forage too, you know.” He laughed again, and I was glad that he at least seemed to be in a good mood.

  “Well, if you change your mind and want me to bring something back for you, just send me a text. I won’t be out late.”

  ***

  We went to Dahlias, which was about a five-minute walk from Teagan’s place. We ordered fish tacos and each got a Corona.

  “I got a letter back from Cecily’s husband,” Teagan said. “I don’t even remember what I wrote to him, but he said that he was glad I’d reached out.”

  “I think it’s good that you did that. Even if you can’t remember exactly what you wrote to him, it obviously meant something to him if he took the time to write back and let you know.”

  “He gave me his phone number and said that if I ever wanted to talk about Cecily, I could get in touch. He said that he didn’t know that much about her online life.” She paused, staring off into the middle distance for a second. “Is that kind of strange? Or not?”

  “That he doesn’t know that much about her online life?”

  “Yeah. Because so many other people did—you know, the people who followed her. Most of them probably didn’t know her in real life, either.”

  “He’s probably feeling some regret,” I said. “Maybe like he missed out on something. There’s probably a lot that he’s looking back on now and wishing that he had done differently.”

  “Do you think so? Their life always seemed so perfect.”

  “Well... I don’t know the guy, so I can’t know for sure what he’s thinking. But it seems to me that whenever someone dies unexpectedly, the people they leave behind usually have some sort of guilt associated with it. And if he gave you his phone number and wants to talk about it, it seems likely that could be what he’s dealing with right now. Along with a whole bunch of other emotions, too, I’m sure. I can’t even begin to imagine what that’s like.”

  “I know.” Teagan shook her head. “It would be awful if anyone died, of course, but for someone like Cecily, with a big family and young kids... it’s just not fair. I think I would like to talk with him.”

  “Then you should. It might help give you some closure with the whole thing.”

  When we were done eating, we left the restaurant and took a walk. What a difference, walking through the city, as opposed to hiking the trails in Guerneville, but with Teagan by my side, it didn’t matter much to me at all. Eventually, though, we found our way back to the car and I drove her home.

  I walked her up to the door. Time to say another goodbye when I wished our time together didn’t have to be over.

  “Would you like to come up?” she asked. She blurted it out so quickly that I almost didn’t understand what she’d said. “You don’t have to; I just thought... I just thought that you might like to.”

  “Of course I would,” I said. We were entering dangerous ter
ritory here, though. The logical part of my brain knew this, but another part of my brain just wanted to go with it, see where things went. And why not? Could something that felt this good really be wrong?

  It absolutely could. I wasn’t such a fool to think that what we were doing might not end up a complete shit show. It probably would. But the more time I spent with Teagan, the more it seemed like the two of us were just completely on the same wavelength; we just got each other. It had never been this effortless with someone before, and that had to mean something, didn’t it?

  I knew there were a million and one ways that people could rationalize this sort of thing to themselves. Responsible Ben would not be doing something like this; he would not be inviting his client up to his cabin, he would not be asking her to go out and get tacos, and he would keep things strictly professional. It’s what I would’ve done in the past, what I knew Drew wanted me to do, and even what part of myself felt like I should do. But that other part of me was sick of always doing the right thing, because where had that gotten me? I’d done right by Camille the entire duration of our relationship, which, toward the end, had gotten totally fucked up. Sometimes, doing the correct thing wasn’t always the right choice. And more and more, in this situation, I was beginning to think that was true.

  But how far to take it? Now, I was standing in Teagan’s apartment, which I’d gotten glimpses of in the photographs she’d posted on Instagram. The photographs had made the place feel ethereal, like a sanctuary. I had assumed it had been a trick of the light, the deception of the camera lens, but I was wrong, I realized now. Even my cabin up north didn’t have the same feel as Teagan’s apartment, probably in part because when it came to interior decorating, I had zero natural aptitude, and because Camille’s influence was still present there. Teagan’s place was warm and inviting and made me feel like I could just hang out there forever. Which was generally not how I felt upon entering any indoor space, but here... it was different. I followed her down the short hallway, which opened into a nice-sized living room with bay windows.