That lasted all of about five minutes.
After cleaning her apartment, she finally collected the small laundry bag of dry-clean-only clothes that had been sitting in the bottom of her closet and dropped them off to be cleaned. She stopped by the post office and picked up a book of stamps. She went to the bank and transferred some money from her savings account to her checking account in preparation for those post-holiday credit card bills. And now, she was on her way to the grocery store.
As she waited for the light to turn green, the sound of grinding metal caught her attention, and she glanced to the right, noticing the crew of construction workers gathered around a large sheet of metal, some holding it in place while others methodically walked around with some type of hand-held tools that either cut it or drilled holes in it. One of the men stopped and removed the goggles from his eyes, checking over his work, and she smiled softly when she recognized him.
Lauren had completely forgotten he was working on the new medical offices going up on West Linn Street.
Just as the light turned green, she saw him cup his hands in front of his mouth and blow into them before rubbing them together. She frowned slightly as she began to pull forward, watching as his breath repeatedly left his mouth in a wispy cloud. In fact, the whole group of them looked like they were steaming, their exhales alternately providing puffs of white smoke that wafted around them.
He bounced on his toes, rubbing his hands together one more time before he pulled his goggles back down and got back to work.
Lauren glanced down at her dashboard. Eighteen degrees outside today.
She scrunched up her nose as she glanced in her rearview, catching one last glimpse of the men as they continued working over the piece of metal before they disappeared from view.
Before she had even consciously decided to do it, she made a quick left turn, putting on her blinker at the end of the street and turning into the Dunkin Donuts drive-through. Five minutes later, she was heading back toward West Linn Street with a Box O’Joe and fifty count of Munchkins in her passenger seat.
Lauren found a parking space at the end of the street and exited the car, ducking her head against a particularly sharp gust of wind; she couldn’t imagine having to work outside on a day like this. She walked a little faster, the box of coffee in one hand and the donuts in the other, looking out from under her lashes as she tucked her chin into her scarf.
As she approached the small group of men, Michael removed his goggles again, bending slightly to examine something on the sheet metal. After a moment he straightened. He was about to bring his goggles back down when he spotted her.
He looked surprised, but he smiled, pulling his goggles completely off as he placed what looked like a drill on the pavement.
“Hey,” Lauren said, bouncing on her toes to keep warm as he approached her.
“Hey,” he said, jamming his hands in his pockets. “It’s freezing out here. Why are you walking? Where’s your car?”
“Down the block,” she said, motioning with her head. “I just came down here to give you guys this,” she added holding out the coffee and donuts.
He looked down at what she offered. “You got us all coffee?” he asked. When he looked back up, there was something behind his eyes that made her chest feel heavy with an emotion she couldn’t quite place.
Lauren nodded. “It’s cold,” she said softly. “I just figured…” She shrugged.
Michael looked at her for a second before a smile began playing at his lips. “You would’ve had to fend off most of these guys with a cattle prod anyway. But now? All bets are off.”
Lauren laughed nervously. “Well then, maybe you should give it to them.”
He laughed loudly before he quirked his brow at her. “Come on now Red, I’ve never known you to be shy.”
He turned then, calling to the guys, and Lauren froze.
It was the first time he’d used his old nickname for her.
The heaviness instantly settled back in her chest, and this time, she had no trouble identifying it.
Longing.
She should have been panicked over that revelation; she realized that. She should have been trying to find a way to remove herself from the situation so she could get composed, so she could chase that godforsaken feeling out of her body. It was a fail-safe method that had proven successful whenever she felt herself slipping with him over the past few weeks.
But for some reason, the only thing she could bring herself to do in that moment was smile.
She didn’t even realize how much she had missed his pet name for her until she’d heard it again.
Michael had the men’s attention now, and he turned back, gesturing to her. “This is my friend Lauren. She brought us coffee.”
Immediately, she was inundated with calls of thanks, compliments, and a few whistles. She looked down and laughed, handing the boxes to the two men who walked over. “There are cups in that bag, and cream and sugar,” she said.
“Well, aren’t you a doll,” an older gentleman with graying hair said. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
“Anytime.” Lauren waved at the other guys. “Stay warm,” she called, and again, they shouted their thanks to her.
Michael smiled. “Well, I better go get some before those animals drain that thing,” he said. “And you should get the hell out of this cold.”
“Wait,” Lauren said. “I have something for you in the car.”
“For me?” he asked, his brow lifted, and she nodded.
“Hurry though, I’m freezing,” she said as she turned and started walking quickly down the block.
She was vaguely aware of Michael following her, but she was too focused on picking up the pace. The wind had started to pick up, making it borderline unbearable to be outside.
When she reached the car, she jumped in, quickly closing the door behind her, and Michael walked around, getting into the passenger side.
“God.” Lauren’s teeth chattered as she started the car and blasted the heat, holding her hands in front of the vents. “How the hell do you do it?”
“You get used to it after a while.” He rested his head back on the seat and turned to look at her. “This was probably a stupid move though.”
“What was?”
“Getting in this car with you.”
She pulled her brow together as she focused on playing with the knob for the heat. “Why?” she asked with strained casualness.
“Because I’m warming up. It’s going to be that much colder when I go back out there now.”
“Oh.” She felt her shoulders soften in relief as she looked over at him.
“What did you think I meant?”
She shook her head. “Nothing,” she said, reaching into the console and pulling the large Dunkin Donuts cup out of the holder. “Here, maybe this will make going back out there a little more bearable.”
“What is this?” he asked, taking it from her.
“Hot chocolate.”
A slow smile formed on his lips. “With whipped cream?”
She nodded once.
“And…?”
Lauren smiled. “And rainbow sprinkles. And a cherry, of course.”
Michael’s smile turned into a full-blown grin, and Lauren laughed.
When they were in high school, Michael used to order this drink all the time, claiming it was like “an ice-cream sundae you could have in the winter.” Lauren always got a kick out of it, the way he’d walk through the halls with his intimidating posture and unnerving expressions while holding such an innocuous, juvenile beverage concealed in a coffee cup.
She nodded in the direction of the work site. “Tell them it’s something manly,” she said. “Like black coffee with a shot of whiskey.”
He burst out laughing before he looked down, shaking his head with a smile. He spun the drink slowly in his hand before he looked back up at her. “How do you remember these things?”
Her expression softened. “You were my best friend,
Michael.”
His smile dropped. For a moment, they just stared at each other, and then he looked down. “I know,” he said softly. After a few seconds, he cleared his throat. “I should probably…” He gestured with his head toward the construction site, and Lauren nodded.
“Yeah. Try to stay warm, okay?”
She turned toward the steering wheel, and suddenly his hand was on her chin, turning her face back toward him as he leaned forward and brought his lips to her cheek.
She closed her eyes as his mouth left her skin. “Thank you,” he said. She felt the backs of his knuckles brush over her cheek, right where he had just kissed her, and then he was out of the car before she could even formulate a response.
Michael walked back down the block, hot chocolate in hand and a smile on his face, completely oblivious to the cold now.
When he got back to the site, most of the guys were sitting on the curb drinking coffee and eating the donuts Lauren had just dropped off. He walked over to where Dean was leaned up against a streetlight, warming his hands on his cup of coffee.
Dean glanced over at him. “Was that her?” he asked before he took a sip.
“Who?” Michael asked, taking a sip of his own and smiling as the sweet beverage hit his tongue. Tell them it’s something manly, like black coffee with a shot of whiskey. He laughed to himself.
“Your girl,” Dean said. “The one you’ve been after.”
Michael looked up, his expression turning serious. “I’m not after her,” he said. “She’s a good friend of mine.”
Dean looked at him for a second before he smirked. “Okay,” he said, turning his attention to the other side of the street. He brought his cup to his mouth, but Michael could still see him smiling.
He looked at Dean for another second before he dropped his eyes, rolling his cup in between his palms, feeling the heat of the liquid and the icy chill of the air alternating on his skin.
“Can I ask you something?” he finally said.
Dean looked back at him. “What’s up?”
“You and Melinda. How’s that going?”
Only a few months ago, they had been in the middle of an ugly custody battle over their daughter. But recently, Michael knew they’d been trying to work on their relationship.
Dean inhaled deeply. “We got a lot of shit to work out. But we’re trying. We’re getting there.”
Michael nodded, and for a minute, the only sound was the murmuring conversations of the guys around them mixing with the cars passing by. “How?” he finally said.
“What do you mean?”
He inhaled slowly. “I mean…how do you fix something you really fucked up?”
Dean looked at him, and after a second he nodded in understanding.
“Well,” he said, “we have a kid involved. So when we put her needs in front of our own, that helps.”
“Yeah,” Michael agreed, running his fingers over the lid of his cup.
“But honestly? What women need?” Dean paused to take a sip of his coffee. “Actions. Not words. Sorry doesn’t mean shit, begging doesn’t mean shit, and promises don’t mean shit.”
Michael nodded and looked down. “I’m just…I’m at a loss, man. I just don’t know…” He sighed, shaking his head.
Dean leaned over. “You gotta prove to her that you’re never gonna do whatever messed with her in the first place ever again. You gotta show her there’s no reason to be afraid of giving you another chance. And that’s work, my man. That’s work.” He pushed off the lamppost and started to walk away, but turned at the last second. “But from what I just saw, I think she’d be willing to hear you out.”
Dean clapped him on the back before he turned and walked back toward their workstation.
Michael watched him walk away for a moment before he turned and sat on a nearby bench, resting his elbows on his knees as he held his hot chocolate in front of him.
Slowly, he bowed his head.
Something had changed. Somehow, for some reason, something had changed between them over the past few weeks. Lauren seemed so much more open to him. More relaxed. More herself. Months ago, that had been all he really wanted—to have her drop that aloof charade, for her to let her guard down and just be herself with him again.
But now that he seemed to have that, he wanted more.
The taste of winning back her friendship had given him an appetite for something much bigger. And when she looked at him the way she just did in the car, there was a piece of him that believed maybe, just maybe, he could have it. That there was a chance he could fix this.
That he could have everything he wanted.
Michael dropped his head back, taking a deep breath as he blinked up at the sky.
He’d done everything except the one thing he knew he had to do.
He needed to talk to her about what happened.
And maybe if she knew the reason behind his actions all those years ago, she’d understand.
Michael sighed as he looked down at his drink, swirling it a few times before he took another sip.
He was going to talk to her. Soon. Because even if it didn’t work, even if knowing the truth didn’t change a single thing between them, she deserved to finally understand what had happened.
It was time for him to stop running.
May 2003
Del sat in the passenger seat of Lauren’s car, staring out the window at the passing scenery.
“I’m not an idiot, you know.”
Lauren looked at him, her expression a mixture of confusion and amusement. “Well, sometimes I’d have to disagree,” she said with the hint of a laugh. “But what are you talking about?”
“I know what this is about.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her looking at him, and then she turned her eyes back to the road, saying nothing.
He knew he was being an asshole; she was just looking out for him. But he couldn’t help it.
It was the anniversary of the night Aaron died. Lauren knew that. And what Del wanted to be doing right now—what he’d done every year on this night since he was thirteen—was to drink until he passed out. Lauren knew that too.
Which, of course, was the reason for this little road trip.
Lauren claimed she needed his help with something tonight, but Del knew better. She hated when he drank too much, especially when he used it as a coping mechanism. She had used those exact words with him once, and he’d laughed and told her not to quit her day job.
Even though he knew that’s exactly what he was doing.
“Just…humor me,” she said quietly before she reached to turn the radio on.
For the next twenty minutes, neither one of them spoke as Lauren drove them through the next town and pulled into the parking lot of what looked like a small warehouse.
She cut the engine and removed her seatbelt before she turned to look at him.
“Okay. Let’s go.”
Del squinted out the window, just making out the letters of a small neon sign hanging above the door of the building.
TRASHED.
“What the hell is this?” he asked, but she was already out of the car.
With a huff he took off his seatbelt. “Hey,” he called as he exited the car, and she turned to look over her shoulder. “What the hell is this?”
“Come on,” she said simply, reaching for him.
With a resigned sigh he walked over to where she was standing and took her outstretched hand.
Lauren led him to the door and pulled it open, and they walked into what looked like a small china shop. The walls were essentially floor to ceiling shelves, filled with various plates, glasses, mugs, bowls, and vases. There was a counter on the far wall, where a cash register sat above a long glass case filled with what looked like small porcelain statues and knickknacks. The man behind it appeared to be in his twenties; his hair was dyed a deep black and styled into meticulous spikes, and two piercings adorned his lower lip.
Del halted in th
e doorway, surveying the area with confusion, but Lauren pulled him forward as she approached the man behind the counter.
“Hi,” she said. “My name is Lauren Monroe. I think we spoke on the phone?”
“Lauren, yes,” he said, and Del immediately straightened his posture at the way the guy was looking at her. “Good to meet you.”
She nodded with a smile. “This is my friend Michael,” she said, pulling him a bit closer to the counter.
The man nodded politely at him. “Glad to have you with us. So, are you guys all set?”
“Just him,” Lauren said.
“Okay then. Right this way. Your room is all ready.”
The man turned and walked down a small hallway to the left of the counter, and Lauren moved to follow him.
Del yanked on her hand, and she stumbled back toward him, wide-eyed.
“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell this is.”
For a second, she just stared up at him. “You don’t trust me?”
He rolled his eyes. “Of course I do,” he started.
“Then just come with me,” she said, cutting him off. “If you don’t want to do it, we’ll leave.”
She looked up at him for another second, reassuring him with her eyes before she turned back toward the hallway, and this time, he allowed her to pull him along.
There were two doors on either side of the hall, and Lauren followed the man into the last one on the right.
As soon as they stepped inside the room, Del released her hand and crossed his arms, looking around. One of the walls appeared to be made of plexi-glass. He could see four chairs lined up on the other side, facing the room. The other walls were painted black and had sheet metal nailed to them. Del furrowed his brow, noticing the dents, nicks, and scratches that peppered the once shiny surfaces.
But the strangest thing of all was the long table set up against the back wall; there were four large stacks of plates in varying sizes and colors, several wine glasses, a few serving bowls, and one large crystal vase right in the center.
Del turned to look at Lauren, but she was looking at the man, nodding at something he was saying.
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