Until I Knew Myself

by Tammy L. Gray

  His entire body went cold.

  “It’s also my understanding that Norman was asked to sign a nondisclosure that prevented him from contacting you.”

  Tyler reached out behind him, barely gripping the edge of the counter before collapsing onto one of the stools.

  Journey rushed to him. “What is it?”

  He waved his hand to quiet her.

  “Mr. Mitchell?”

  “I’m here.” Physically, but his mind and emotions were clashing so loudly he could hardly hear himself speak. “When did he die?”

  “Two week ago. Heart attack.”

  Numbness stretched down Tyler’s arms and legs. “So what happens now?”

  “Yes, well, there are some logistical things we will need to discuss. Liens exist against your grandfather’s property and he had some debts, of course, that will need to be paid out of the estate, but his personal effects have been boxed up for you. Your grandfather also included a personal letter. Unfortunately, I can’t send any of his belongings until I confirm your identity. See, I’m a skeptical man as well.” He chuckled like he’d made some great joke, then cleared his throat. “Is there a time we could meet in person?”

  Tyler pressed his hand to his chest, a sharp pain moving against his ribcage. “Yeah. I’ll look at my schedule and call you back.”

  “Sounds good. And Tyler…I am sorry for your loss.”

  The man had no idea.

  He ended the call, let the phone crash against the counter and slide to the edge. The floor beneath him felt hollow, ready to swallow him whole and crush every bone his in body.

  “Ty, you’re shaking. What’s going on?”

  “I found my father’s family.”

  Her inhale sounded a lot like a gasp. “You did?”

  “His dad. My grandfather. He’s dead.”

  Journey tugged at his hand, pulling him from the stool. He followed her to the living room, though every step felt as if he were walking through molasses.

  The words kept pounding over and over in his head. Signed a nondisclosure. It choked out all other rational thought.

  Journey held his shoulders and forced him down on the couch. She took the seat next to him and clutched both of his hands. They were cold, trembling. He glanced at her face, realizing for the first time that she didn’t seem nearly as shocked as he was by the news. In fact, guilt seemed to be the only thing coloring her expression.

  “Ty, there’s something I have to tell you.”

  No.

  But self-denial only worked when you couldn’t read a person’s facial expressions. And he knew every one of hers, down to the slightest tremor of her lips.

  “About two months after your mom died, a man came by the Kinder’s house. I was there with Beck and you were, I don’t remember, at the movies or something with Sean. We heard shouting and commotion, so we rushed to the loft and saw this guy and Harold arguing.”

  No. She couldn’t have.

  “He was drunk, scruffy. He had this leathery skin and big hands he kept punching into the air, saying stuff about his rights and how you belonged to him now. We were both terrified. Then he started cursing at Harold, and Beck pulled me into his room until the shouting stopped. When we came out, he was gone. Harold told us never to say a word. We both promised not to.”

  Tyler stood, somehow, on legs that felt more like rubber than bone. All this time, all these years. His stomach twisted with a fury that nearly doubled him over, yet he somehow remained steady.

  “You knew?”

  Journey couldn’t breathe, her lungs suffocating on those two horrible words.

  “You knew,” he said again, ragged and ruined this time. His voice carried the pain of a thousand betrayals. They’d kept from him the greatest secret of all—knowledge of his father’s family.

  She rushed to him, quick to put her hands on his chest or else he’d flee. She could feel him beneath her skin, his breath coming in quick pants. Nothing in their time together was ever so real or important as this moment. “You said we could get through anything. That being apart wasn’t an option. You said you loved me.”

  “Don’t you dare use my words against me.”

  She didn’t recognize the man in front of her. He was rigid, empty, tucked tight inside himself to a place she’d never been invited.

  “April? Sean? Did they know, too?” His voice was even more painful to hear. Sharp and hollow, void of any gentleness.

  “No. Beck and I never spoke of it again. Not once.”

  With quivering fingers, he took her wrists in each hand and pulled them from his chest, shoving her away with neither anger nor heartbreak. Either would have given her hope. The indifference was a slap across her face.

  “I need you to leave.” He turned away and every instinct in her wanted to fall at his feet and beg him to forgive her. She knew Ty. She knew he didn’t process pain with an audience. But they’d already been apart too long.

  “I’m scared to. I’m scared that if I do, we won’t ever recover.”

  He placed his hands on his hips and lowered his head. “Journey, please. There are only so many hits I can take tonight and not completely lose it.”

  “Okay. But know this: I love you.” She came up behind, barely brushing her fingers across his back. He jerked away as if she’d scorched him. Dropping her hand, she did as he begged her to, and left him standing there, all alone.

  Chapter 7

  Sun beat through his windshield, the black dash ricocheting the heat to his stony face. He’d been there ten minutes already, staring at the building in front of him. Only irony would have Caroline living in the same building as April and Journey. As if the last twenty-four hours could get any worse.

  Beck hadn’t come home last night and his only correspondence today was a quick you’re welcome text and an oh-by-the-way, Caroline lives in Riverside Condos. She’s expecting us at six. Got a meeting but I’ll be right behind you.

  Forcing stiff fingers to move, Tyler released the steering wheel and opened the driver side door. Warm air whistled past him like a stream from a giant blow dryer. They were under a wind advisory today. Appropriate, considering his emotions were equally as volatile. Still, he’d made a promise. And someone in his life needed to value loyalty.

  The wind seemed to increase its aggression, lifting his hair and pushing him faster than he wanted to go. Tyler gripped the metal door handle and forced himself to walk inside.

  Soft classical music quickly drowned out the hiss of the wind. He patted down his hair in the mirrored entry, relishing the numb he still felt.

  Chester sat at the desk, feet propped, doing his favorite Sudoku game. The guy had biceps the size of a child’s thigh and a smile that covered half his face. As a security guard, he was the perfect mix of friendliness and intimidation.

  “Hey Ty! It’s been a while.”

  “Yes, it has. You doing okay?”

  They shook hands, pulled until their fingers hooked, then fist bumped.

  “Nothing to complain about.” He chucked his chin. “You here to see Journey?”

  “Actually no, and if you don’t mind, please don’t mention to her that I’m here.”

  He gave a nod of understanding. “Breakups are rough.”

  “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “So, Beck and I are helping a new girl move in. Caroline?” Crap. Why didn’t he get her last name?

  “Caroline Crawford. 126.” He picked up the phone to get her permission to let him in.

  Tyler checked behind him, then to the elevators, a fight or flight sensation washing over him. He needed to get in, do whatever labor was required and hopefully leave the minute Beck showed up.

  “Okay, you’re all set.”

  Tyler tapped the counter. “Thanks, Man.”

  He walked down the hall feeling like a trapped rabbit, and finally found her door. It was at the end of the hall, next to the emergency exit.

  Taking a deep breath, Tyler knocked on the door marked 126 and tried not
to think about the last time he’d entered Journey’s building. His fingers drummed against his thigh, his weight shifting from one foot to the other.

  The door swung open and a pint-sized girl who had to be Caroline stood opposite him, her hair in a messy bun ponytail thing, no make up, jeans and a t-shirt.

  His surprise left him momentarily speechless. Beck normally liked them rich, tall and willowy, like Journey. This one had natural curves and was nearly as short as April, though he couldn’t fully tell since she wasn’t wearing heels. She wasn’t wearing shoes at all.

  “Hey, you’re Tyler, right? Beck showed me your picture. Being that I didn’t know you from Adam and now I’m letting you in my home…” she laughed nervously, her voice breathless as if she’d run across her condo to get the door.

  Tyler lifted his arms, feeling a strange desire to smile. “No crazy stalker here. I promise. And you can call me Ty. Everyone else does.”

  “Well Ty, your timing is perfect. The movers left about an hour ago.” Her gaze darted behind him, likely searching for his tardy roommate.

  “I’m afraid it’s only me for now. Beck got tied up at the office. He said he’d be right behind me.”

  She widened the door opening. “Oh sure. No problem. There isn’t a whole lot to do. He doesn’t even need to come.”

  Beck had implied she was playing hard to get, but her relaxed appearance and lack of disappointment in his absence was more indicative of him landing squarely in the friend zone. After last night, Tyler couldn’t muster up any sympathy.

  He continued forward, stepping into her condo, and the resemblance to Journey’s made his nerves prickle. The same dark hardwood floors, the high twelve-foot ceiling, the same fireplace with a thick white mantle. But unlike April, Caroline didn’t seem to mind clutter, because stuff was everywhere. Boxes lined the floors. Clothes hung over the couch. A pile of shoes by the dining set that looked like she’d upturned a box and dumped them there.

  “Excuse the mess. I can’t put anything in my room until the bed is put together, and the mattress is blocking my closet.” She walked over to another box and pulled out a battery-operated power drill. “Do you know how to use this thing?” She blew a stray piece of hair off her forehead. “I’m sorry. I should offer you a drink first. It’s just that all I have is bottled water and it’s not even cold.”

  He could see the stress in her shoulders, could hear the overwhelmed sigh in her voice, and shrugged off his jacket. “I’m good. Put me to work.”

  Her shoulders relaxed and that smile snuck out again. It brightened her face, her eyes, even the color of her cheeks. Tyler found himself smiling too. A good kind of smile. The kind that made him forget his life was in turmoil.

  She gestured for him to follow her down the short hallway. Unlike Journey’s, Caroline’s condo was a one bedroom with a big ensuite bathroom.

  “All the parts are laid out and labeled. My dad even taped the screw next to the hole, so it’s fool proof.”

  Tyler stood there staring at the color coded, step-by-step instructions. Sure the bed was a queen with ten different sections, but this was over the top. “I take it you’re the organized type.”

  She laughed, full and free, and spread her arms. “Do I look organized to you? No, this is all my dad. It’s killing him that I wouldn’t let him move me.”

  Tyler studied her face. She was pretty. Not the kind of exotic beauty Beck gravitated to, but every one of her facial features were noteworthy. Her nose had a delicate slope and her lips were full and smooth, with no indention at the top. The shining star, though, was her eyes—the darkest shade of green he’d ever seen—and they literally twinkled.

  Again, he found himself smiling, felt a light push past the dark clouds. “Why didn’t you let your dad help?” He tested the drill, made sure the bit was tight.

  “I don’t know. I’m twenty-five, and I spent the last year living with my parents. I think the idea reminded me too much of being dropped off at the dorm. This move is supposed to be empowering, not a tug back in time.” She followed his lead and helped hold the frame together while he tightened the screw. “I guess now that I think about it, it’s pretty stupid.”

  He moved to the next corner, untaped the hardware and lined up the holes. “Not at all. What made you move back home?” He’d meant the question to be small talk, but the way she stilled had him kicking himself for overstepping. “You don’t have to answer that.”

  “No, it’s fine. I needed a little extra support and home seemed to be the logical choice.”

  “So I take it you’re close to your parents?” The answer was clear, even before she spoke it. The easy way she talked about them held no resentment, only affection.

  “Yes, we are. Very close.” She waited until the drill stopped. “What about you?”

  He stood, the question stinging more so than usual. “Both my parents have passed away.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s life.” He finished the last corner and they slid the frame to the headboard.

  “So do you have other family close by?”

  He paused, a sharp hiss of anger fighting through his easy-going façade. “No. It’s just me.”

  Caroline tilted her head as he lined up the headboard and screwed the two main sections together. “Beckham mentioned you’ve been working in Dallas. Did you like it?”

  “Beckham?” Tyler nearly choked on his surprise.

  “Yeah…what’s so funny?”

  “Nothing. It’s just that Beckham is so formal. I mean, I haven’t heard anyone call him that since we were kids, and even then it was only his teachers.”

  “Oh my gosh. Have I seriously been calling him by the wrong name?” She dropped her head into her hands, spied him through open fingers. “He’s never corrected me. Not once.”

  Tyler suddenly felt guilty for her horror-struck expression. “Don’t worry about it. Trust me, if it bothered Beck, I’m sure he would have said something.”

  They slid the headboard against the wall and Tyler went to work on the footboard. It had been a long time since he felt this comfortable with a stranger. “So how do you like working for Kinder Enterprises?”

  She held the board in place while he drilled. “It’s different than I expected. My boss loaned me out to Sales and the atmosphere, well, it takes some getting used to.”

  “How so?”

  “I don’t know. It’s casual, but not. Friendly, but also kind of cut throat in some ways. Sometimes I feel like I’m at a party and other times it’s so quiet, we could be at a funeral.”

  “Ah.” Tyler hadn’t been back to the office since Beck took over, but he’d lived with the guy long enough to know his mood could set the tone for the day, and he was as unpredictable as the weather. One moment was a high, the next a low, and the in-between a storm waiting to erupt. “It’ll get better when Beck feels more comfortable with his new job.” He thought of the pressure his friend was under, the stress that seeped through every conversation and felt a twinge of sympathy. It only lasted a second, long enough to remember the secret he’d kept for far too long.

  Tyler stood and walked around to the last corner left to attach on the frame. He tried squeezing it, but couldn’t get the gap close enough to drill.

  “Here, let me.” Caroline rushed over, squatted down next to him and tugged at the boards. It took both of them straining and still the screw stripped twice. Finally on the third try, Tyler jerked up just a little and pushed it through.

  “Ouch, frick frack, cow poop.” Caroline jumped to her feet and sucked on her thumb.

  He shouldn’t laugh, but it started low and bubbled its way to his chest as he stood to make sure she wasn’t too badly hurt. “What did you say?”

  She shook her hand, then sucked at the skin again, but she was laughing too. “Sorry. My parents were pretty strict on the cursing thing, so I tend to find replacement words when one almost slips out.”

  He wanted to respond, but her words passed throu
gh his head again and the laughter took over until his side ached and his chest hurt.

  “Stop. I already feel like an idiot.” She hit his arm with her good hand.

  “Don’t feel bad. That was the best cursing I’ve ever heard.”

  “My friends would tease me mercilessly about my word choices when I was in college.” She walked to the box spring and stood on one side. Her thumb had an angry red line, but wasn’t bleeding. “I hated it.”

  “I can imagine.” They lifted the springs, working in unison so natural it made him forget they’d only just met. “You mentioned your parents. What about brothers or sisters?”

  They followed the same path with the mattress and dropped it down. “I have an older sister. She’s twenty-eight and lives an hour north of Lubbock. She wanted me to move there, but it was still too close. I needed to get out of my hometown.”

  “Wow, when you commit, you go all the way. That’s what six hours from here?”

  “Yep.”

  “You don’t miss it?”

  “My family, yes. Everything else, not even a little.”

  The bed was sturdy and ready for sheets, but Caroline stood there looking at it like it signified something greater than a few pieces of hardwood and some bolts. Based on her last statement, maybe it did.

  Tyler glanced at his watch and realized he’d been working for almost a half hour, and hadn’t thought about his grandfather’s will once. This serenity Caroline had somehow created, he didn’t want it to end. “You know, I’m good for more than just furniture assembly. I can help you unpack. I’ve got nothing planned tonight anyway.”

  Her eyes went from surprised to skeptical. “Why? It’s my stuff and I don’t even want to unpack it. In fact, I’ve been really contemplating donating it all to charity.”

  Because he couldn’t be alone. Not tonight. “It’s what we Texans do. We take care of each other.”

  Her shoulders lifted, then fell. “Okay. But when you’re grumbling at midnight, remember that you asked for it.”

  A small price to pay. “I will.”

  He followed her to the kitchen. Three boxes sat on the island, five more on the tile. She grabbed a razor and began slicing the first one open. Paper fell to the ground as she unwrapped the first dish. “I’m glad you’re tall. I’d be climbing on the countertops to get to some of these cabinets.”