by Karen Cimms
“Callie? It’s Chase Holgate. I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner with me tomorrow night?”
Chapter Thirty-Two
June
It was over. I told myself that every morning as soon as I woke and the vice grip I wore around my heart would tighten. My daily affirmation became reminding myself that I had to move on. Let go. By the time I climbed into bed at night, I had to forgive myself for not doing any of that and promise myself that tomorrow would be easier.
It never was.
What did get easier, in a sense, was that Chase began to communicate with me occasionally about the kids through email or texts. We rarely went through Izzy anymore, which was a relief for her. Our messages consisted of no more than a few words. If I flirted in any way, he wouldn’t respond.
How about Friday night? 6?
What did you have in mind?
His response came in a text to Izzy: Tell your mother I’ll pick you up at 6.
He hated me.
When he came to the house to pick up the kids, he’d usually wait in the car. If he had to get out for any reason, such as to help Zac with his little suitcase and his T-ball bat, he’d wait at the bottom of the steps. He refused to come inside, even if it was raining, and he always had his aviators on. If I came outside, I couldn’t tell if he was looking at me or not. It was like if we ever made eye contact, he’d turn into a pillar of salt or something.
If the kids picked up on the tension, they never said anything. Actually, they handled all of it pretty well. They saw me almost every day and Chase four or five times a week. We split up Zac’s T-ball games so that we wouldn’t be at the same game at the same time—not my idea, but I wouldn’t push him. It just reminded me how much he must hate me.
If I showed up at Diane’s while he was in the barn working on the race car, he’d leave. Wally asked me nicely to stay away between Wednesday and Saturday.
“You know,” Diane said one Tuesday evening when I’d been allowed to stop over, “there’s a thin line between love and hate. If he’s still this disturbed about seeing you, he still has feelings for you.”
How I wished that were true. He had feelings for me all right. Unfortunately, not the same feelings I still had for him.
“If he still feels anything at all, it’s anger. And that’s probably the least of it.”
“But for what?” she cried. “You told him nothing happened with Preston. You haven’t even seen him, right?”
This again? She had to be kidding me with this shit. “The fact that you had to qualify that just proves that no one believes me, so why would Chase believe me? No, I haven’t seen or heard from Preston in almost four years. I told Chase that. I wrote him dozens of emails. Sent him text messages. He’s not interested. It’s over.” I repeated it past the rock lodged in my throat. “He hates me. It’s over.”
“Let me talk to him,” she offered. “I’ll talk some sense into him.”
“No! Wally would have a cow, especially if Chase decided not to come around anymore. And what good would it do? We’re divorced, remember?” I waggled my left hand at her.
“That gesture would carry more weight if you weren’t wearing your wedding ring.”
I stared down ruefully at my engagement and wedding rings. “I guess.”
“So,” she said too brightly, “are you going to the last T-ball game Saturday afternoon? Wally’s sister invited us and to the picnic afterward so we can see the kids getting their participation trophies.”
I shook my head. “Chase asked if he could take Zac, since he’s got the race Saturday night and won’t get to keep them overnight. Izzy is going too. She promised to take pictures for me.”
Diane pounded a closed fist against the kitchen table, making me jump. “This sucks. Why can’t he just put on his big boy panties, for chrissakes?”
“I wish I could help you. But it seems when it comes to my psychic abilities, they no longer work when it comes to Chase. Otherwise, we might not even be having this conversation.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Late June
No one ever calls it “the dog days of July,” but as far as I was concerned, July was always pretty damn hot.
Chase had taken Zac to his final game on Saturday, but I realized after they left that I’d forgotten to send him off with the money from the last fundraiser. The envelope was still on the table by the front door when I got home from work Monday afternoon. I promptly forgot about it until Friday, when the coach’s wife left me a terse message that everyone but Zac had turned in their money. I could only assume from the tone of her voice that this lapse on my part was due to Zac coming from a broken home.
“I’ll drop it off tonight,” I promised when I called her back. “I have to run to the store, and I’ll bring it directly to your house. I’m sticking it in my purse right now.”
I was actually stretched out on the lounge chair on the patio, hoping to catch the hint of a breeze. The weatherman had promised that a front would move through and break this heat wave, but I saw no sign of it. I hated having to jack up the electric bill by turning on the air conditioners, but the last few nights, we’d had them cranked up on high. There was only one way I didn’t mind sweating, and he’d divorced me.
After dinner, I finished up my list and made sure the fundraising envelope was in my purse.
“Wanna take a ride?” I asked Zac, who was cozily ensconced in front of the TV with the air conditioner humming away. He didn’t budge.
“Zac!”
He looked up, mouth gaping. If he hadn’t been watching something educational on the Weather Channel, I might have been annoyed.
“I’m going to the store. Do you want to come with me?”
He shook his head, his eyes already back on the program.
“Fine. Behave for your sister while I’m gone.”
Izzy was in her room doing homework. I leaned in. “Leave the door open. I’m heading to the store. I won’t be long. I only need to pick up a few things. Zac’s watching the Weather Channel.”
She rolled her eyes.
“I’m sure the little nerd won’t give me any trouble.”
“Iz,” I warned, although she was right. He wouldn’t.
I was tempted to change before I left, but it was already after seven, and if I wanted to get to the market and get my shopping done before it closed, I needed to get a move on. Besides, a tank top and shorts was good enough. It might not be broiling outside at this hour, but it was still hot as hell. Rain seemed imminent. The leaves on the trees swaying in the hot breeze curled upward, awaiting a drink from the heavens. At least that’s what my father used to tell me.
Fortunately, grocery shopping never took too long, since I’d memorized the layout of every market within a ten-mile radius. But by the time I was ready to check out, the sky had grown much darker and the wind had started to pick up. When I pulled out my wallet to pay, I found the envelope I’d promised to deliver to Zac’s coach earlier at the bottom of my purse. Swell.
If I put this off one more day, the coach’s wife would probably demand Zac be blackballed from any future sports participation. I darted out to the car and loaded the groceries into the back of the Escort. And even though I had a gallon of Zac’s favorite rocky road back there, I headed out to the coach’s house, all the way on the other side of the township, with the air conditioner blasting.
The Millers’ porch light beckoned from the dusk beneath the trees, but there was no time for chitchat. I stuffed the envelope into the mailbox at the end of the drive and dashed off a text telling them where it was. I’d been gone way too long to leave a four-year-old and a twelve-year-old home alone. Instead of heading back through town, I took a shortcut over the mountain. The wind had become gusty and the clouds were thick and furious. It looked as if the sky were about to boil. The trees along the edge of the road shivered dangerously. Leafy branches snapped off and flew across the road in front of me. I expected a witch on a bicycle to go sailing pas
t me at any moment.
The debris accumulating on the narrow roadway forced me way below the speed limit. Even the high beams didn’t do much good in the murk. Lightning flashed around me, and the angry rumble of thunder competed with Shinedown in the CD player. I turned it off. Music usually calmed me, but I needed all my senses to get through the woods in one piece.
Chances of making it home before the skies opened up were pretty slim, and I wished I’d taken the longer route instead of these narrow back roads, especially as the trees began bending and dipping wildly in front of me. Tornados were pretty rare in New Jersey, but this was just crazy. I prayed I wasn’t driving right into the path of one.
Another flash of light heralded a deluge and suddenly it was as if I was driving through a car wash.
I tapped the brakes gently. There was a steep embankment to my right—not that I could see it, but it made me afraid to pull over to the side of the road. I crept along at no more than twenty or twenty five miles an hour. The wipers were working furiously when another flash of lightning struck so brightly I had to close my eyes. An earsplitting clap of thunder preceded a frightening crack overhead, and a tree crashed across the road just before the next curve. I slammed on the brakes, but my tires refused to grip the slick pavement. The car slid sideways and began to spin.
I kept my foot firmly on the brake, but it didn’t matter. Momentum carried me in circles, as if I’d hit black ice. The car bounced several times, then jolted to a stop, leaving me sitting at a frightening angle, tilted hard to the right, which had to be at least 45 degrees. The seat belt, which kept me immobile, was the only thing holding me in place. I could only guess that I had gone over the embankment.
The seat belt dug into my neck, but I was afraid if I released it, I’d tumble out of my seat.
I turned on the interior light and saw my purse in the foot well on the passenger side, much too far away to reach. I wiggled one foot out of my sandal and lifted my leg over the console, stretching to see if I could grab my purse with my toes. The car dipped dangerously—only a small movement, but I froze. The mountainside was studded with trees, so if the car rolled, one of them would stop me. Hopefully.
The headlights illuminated the forest in front of me, but it was raining too hard to tell how far I’d slid down the mountainside. The best I could hope for was that someone on the road would see my headlights. But it wasn’t a main thoroughfare, and the nearest house was probably a good half mile or more down the road. I turned off the engine, leaving the headlights and flashers on. Every fifteen minutes or so, I’d turn the engine back on. The way my luck was going, I’d end up with a dead battery and no one would find me.
It was after nine. Izzy had probably put Zac to bed by now. She was supposed to go Emily’s tonight, but she would never leave until I got home. Someone would come looking for me. Eventually.
I heard another loud crack from a nearby tree and prayed that whatever trees were above me had strong limbs. Lightning lit up the woods around me like something out of a horror movie, and all I could see were trees. I still couldn’t figure out how far down the bank I’d gone. My neck burned, and my hip hurt from being pressed against the console.
About forty minutes had gone by before the rain began to let up. Not one car had passed, or if it did, it was too far away to notice. I couldn’t stay like this indefinitely. If it wouldn’t make the car slide again, I might be able to stand on the console and push the door open. I pulled up on the door handle and pushed out as hard as I could, but the door wouldn’t budge more than a few inches. Gravity was working against me. I opened the window, thinking I’d try to climb out that way, when a heard an engine over the steady beat of the rain, followed by the sound of grinding gears. When I didn’t see anything at first, I thought I might have imagined it, but soon I saw a flash of light bouncing off the trees in front of me. I called out uselessly against the rain beating against the car, my face, and my arms, muffling everything around me. The air had turned much cooler, and the cold rain stung my face and ran into my eyes.
A man called my name from somewhere above me.
“I’m down here,” I cried.
A moment later, a light bounced down the hillside before sweeping across my face.
“Jesus Christ! Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
Chase. My knight in shining armor. The man who hated me.
A sob stuck in my throat. What were the odds?
“Chase?” I stuck my hand out the window and waved, as if that would help him find me.
“I’m coming.” He kept talking all the while as his voice grew closer.
“Are you okay?” He kept the flashlight trained on me, and I squinted back up. Way, way up.
“I’m okay. Just get me out of here. Whenever I try to move, the car starts to rock like it’s going over.”
“Shit.” That wasn’t confidence I heard in his voice. “Listen to me. I need to secure the car before I can get you out. Just hang on and don’t move.”
His words conjured up a vision of tumbling to my death, and I started to panic, especially when his flashlight began to move away.
“Don’t leave me!”
The light found me again. “I’m not leaving you. I’m going to move the truck closer. Then I’m going to hook the winch to the wheel so I can keep the car from moving, okay? Then I promise I’ll get you out, but I can’t take the chance of letting that car move in the process.”
It was hard to see him in the dark with the light on my face, but at least I knew he was looking at me.
“Do you trust me?”
I nodded.
“Good girl. Now just sit tight. I’m not going to let anything happen to you, I promise. Don’t be scared. I’ve got this.”
It grew dark again. I followed the thick beam of light in my side door mirror until it disappeared. The static and crackle of his two-way interrupted the pulse of the rain on the roof of the car as he radioed for help, and I prayed we wouldn’t have to wait for reinforcements. I wanted out.
The engine of the rollback hummed somewhere above me as he shifted into gear. Before long, I heard the chain for the winch rattle as Chase came closer.
“Rain?” When I answered, he continued. “I’m going to hook this through the wheel now. Then I’m going to tighten the slack so the car won’t be able to move. After that, I’m going to get you out, okay?”
He continued to speak as he worked, and even though I was hanging sideways on the side of a mountain, his voice calmed me. Odd, this was actually the safest I’d felt in seven months. In the distance, the radio squawked with snippets of chatter relating to my accident. The police were on their way; something about a road crew to remove the tree.
His face appeared above the window again.
“I’m going back up the truck to tighten the slack now. I’ll have you out in a few minutes. Just hang on.”
A flood of light illuminated the area. The rain had been coming down steadily, and I was soaked to the skin. The car jerked sharply, my heart along with it.
A moment later, Chase appeared alongside the open driver’s window. “Now listen to me. Give me your arm, and brace your feet against the side of the console. Then you can unfasten the seat belt, okay?”
I did as he said. As soon as the seat belt released, I began to slide downward, away from him. His grip on my soaking wet wrist slipped, and he grabbed for my upper arm. “I got you.”
If I slipped from his grip again, I’d tumble through the window on the other side. I just knew it.
“Put your arms around my neck, then push against the console.”
His eyes were locked with mine. “C’mon, baby. You can do this.”
Breathing through my mouth, I hooked my arms around his neck, kicked off my other sandal, then wedged my left foot against the console and pushed. His arms snaked in and grabbed me around the waist.
“That’s a good girl.”
In spite of my terror, I almost smiled.
“See if you can step
onto the steering wheel and push yourself out further. I don’t want to pull you yet. I might hurt you.”
He’d already hurt me far worse than he could trying to yank me through a car window. “I just want out.”
“You’re almost there. You’re doing great. C’mon, babe. Put your foot onto the steering wheel.”
Babe. I sighed. Maybe he should just let go and let me tumble down the mountain.
The wheel moved slightly, then locked into place. It hurt the bottom of my foot to put all my weight against it, but moments later, Chase lifted me out of the car the rest of the way. His feet went out from under him under my full weight and the soggy ground, and I came crashing down on top of him. He lost his grip on me, and I started to roll underneath the car. I shrieked. He dived after me and tugged until I rested against him, his arms tightly wrapped around me.
“I’m sorry,” he said, panting. “Shit. Are you okay?”
I could feel his chest rising and falling beneath me.
Shivering, I shook my head. “Fine. Sorry.”
Sirens blared in the distance. Without letting me go, he stood, then helped me up. Slowly, we made our way up the embankment and onto the road.
In the harsh light of his high beams, he looked me over.
“No bumps, bruises? Did you hit your head? The steering wheel?”
I shook my head. “Just the belt digging into my neck is all. I’ll probably have a bruise, but I’m okay.”
He turned me around as if he didn’t believe me, then turned me back to face him.
“Can you walk?” Stiffness seeped back into his voice. When he looked down and saw I had no shoes on, he frowned. Without giving me time to answer, he picked me up, then deposited me next to the rollback.
“There’s a sweatshirt behind the seat,” he said, his voice now gruff. “You’re soaked.” After helping me climb into the rollback, he went to wait for the approaching cruiser and fire truck.
Inside the dry cab, I peeled off my wet tank top and bra, then slid the sweatshirt over my head. It was big enough to be a dress on me, but I had enough self-control to refrain from removing my wet shorts and panties, although to be honest, being this close to Chase made me think about that long and hard. Even terrified, cold, and shaking like a leaf, when he had put his arms around me, I had felt safe.