“Go put it back in the cupboard where it belongs, okay?”
“But, the ghost will come move it again.”
Aidan gave him a look that said Max had better stop arguing, so he didn’t say anything else. He turned and stared at the ground as he walked back toward the cabin.
Grown-ups just didn’t understand.
EMMY STOOD in the driveway and watched the top of her son’s head in the backseat of her mother’s silver Mercedes as it pulled away and disappeared down the road. An impossible sadness filled her chest, which was ridiculous, since just the day before, she’d been desperate to buy herself a little time alone.
A few days ago, the weight of single parenthood in the midst of starting a new business and building a house had been weighing heavily on her. She’d called her mother and asked her if she might include Max on her upcoming trip to Lake Tahoe, and Emmy had been grateful when her mother had happily agreed to the plan. Max, too, was excited about a week with his grandmother, who spoiled him horribly, let him stay up late and devoted all her time to entertaining him. And this morning, he’d sat on the front steps waiting to see her car pull up.
But this was Emmy’s first time saying goodbye to Max for more than an overnight in several years. And she’d been unprepared for how hard it would be. She went back inside and paced around the house under the guise of straightening things up, but mostly she was trying to keep herself busy so she wouldn’t curl up on the bed and cry all day.
Pausing on her way to the kitchen to put away a plastic cup Max had left on the coffee table, she looked out the window at Aidan’s motorcycle parked nearby, as it always was. Something else was bothering her besides her son’s departure. Without Max around, what was keeping her away from Aidan?
Nothing at all, except for the fact that they’d barely spoken since the last time they’d slept together.
All alone now, she could do whatever she wanted, and there’d be no one but herself to answer to. She could hang out at the local bar and have a drink with other grown-ups. She could connect with old friends. She could lie around reading for hours at a time…
But she wanted Aidan. Maybe it was habit, from having gone to him the last two times Max was away. But as she let herself contemplate being with him again, Emmy could hardly stand the empty space between herself and Aidan.
And she would have to resist it. She was being selfish again, not thinking about his feelings. If she wasn’t willing to have a relationship with him, she needed to stay away, which was going to be a tall task for the next week. She’d bury herself in work instead. She’d get totally caught up so that when Max returned, she’d feel refreshed and ready for life as a single mom again.
And there was one other thing she’d been wanting to attend to. Pausing in the middle of putting away her swimsuit that had been hanging to dry, she glanced warily at the chest in the corner of the room.
She needed to go through it to get rid of her sense of unrest surrounding it.
So she poured herself a glass of red wine, and she made herself sit on the floor with the chest and open it up.
There was the journal she dreaded seeing again, its red cover aged but still beautiful.
She opened it up and read Aidan’s poem about the kite. Tears formed in her eyes. He had loved her more than any man ever had or ever would again, she feared. And she’d ruined it.
She read through their entries, one after another, until she felt as if she’d been kicked in the stomach repeatedly, and her face and the front of her shirt were covered in tears. She looked at the pictures, at their young happy faces smiling toward a future they had no idea would end up so fractured and wrong, and she mourned the loss of their innocence.
She saw the ticket stubs for their trip to Reggae on the River, where they’d danced and drank and swum the entire weekend all those years ago, so ridiculously happy and filthy and high on life. It had been the last happy weekend they’d ever spent together, because he’d proposed to her at the end of it, lying outside one night as they gazed up at the stars and listened to the sounds of reggae drifting through the air, and she’d said no.
She’d ruined it all.
She’d been too afraid of how much he loved her, and how little of the world she’d experienced. If she’d married Aidan, her first love, how would she know if there was anyone better for her out there? She’d wanted to be free and experience other men. Other men like Steven.
And look how that had turned out.
She hadn’t deserved Aidan’s undying love back then, and she didn’t deserve it now.
By the end of the journal, she knew she had to leave him alone, because all this passion they’d shared was a fire that would scorch them both if they let it burn again.
She set aside the journal, and began reading the letters in the chest, in order from earliest to latest dates. They’d all been letters to Leticia Van Amsted from a man named Walter Elliot.
He’d loved her, and she’d broken his heart. He’d wanted to marry her, and she’d said no.
Just like Emmy and Aidan.
She didn’t know how or why her journal had ended up with Leticia’s letters, both tales of love affairs gone wrong, but she could see why they belonged together now, and when she was done reading, she placed them back in the chest and closed it tightly. She didn’t intend to open it again. Then she said a silent goodbye one final time to the mementoes of two love affairs dead and gone.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
What can we learn from a tragedy like Darfur? When will we decide that genocide can never be tolerated? That turning our eyes away from the horror will not make it go away?
From Through a Soldier’s Eyes
by Aidan Caldwell
AIDAN COULD finally see the end of his book. He’d been revising and editing for weeks, and at last, he had the sense that he was nearing the conclusion.
He rarely logged on to the Internet for fear of seeing a news headline, but he did so now just long enough to check his e-mail. A message from his literary agent, dated three weeks ago, waited for him. He opened it and read that his agent was checking on the book’s progress.
For once, he happily clicked reply on the message and typed out that he expected to be couriering the manuscript in another week.
Another week? Was that right? Was he really going to be done that soon?
He was.
The idea stopped him cold. What would he do after the book was done? Sure, there’d be revisions and other little details to wrap up once the manuscript was turned in, but those things wouldn’t consume his whole life the way writing the book had.
So what would he do?
It was a question he’d tried hard not to consider. And he didn’t want to have to imagine moving on from the cabin and finding a new life in the outside world.
A new life where? Doing what? He hadn’t a clue. He’d been too consumed by the book, and by his recovery, to consider such questions.
Emmy’s father would surely let him stay at the cabin for as long as he wanted, but he couldn’t hide out here forever.
Plus he needed to get away from Emmy.
She was settling into a new life here, and he wasn’t a part of it unless he wanted to be her sex buddy. That much was crystal-clear.
Somewhere along the way, he’d gotten sucked in yet again to the fantasy of him and her together, a couple once more, and he’d let it blind him to the reality that he had a future to plan for himself.
Alone.
As he hit Send on the message to his agent, he watched the list of his unread messages reappear, and he scanned them to see if any were worth opening. When he saw the name of his closest friend from their captivity in Darfur, his breath caught in his throat.
Garrett McKinley, Captain, U.S. Army, the name on the message read, accompanied by the subject line, “Where the hell’d you go, man?”
Aidan’s mouth went dry as he opened the message.
Garrett had been there with him through everything. More th
an anyone else on earth, he knew.
He really knew.
Aidan read quickly. Garrett had left the army just as Aidan had, had spent his time recovering by doing the Tour D’Afrique, a bicycle race from the top to the bottom of the African continent, during which he’d raised sponsorship money to help the people of Darfur. And that had led him to start his own aid organization for the crisis in Sudan.
He wanted Aidan to join him in his work. He said he needed someone who knew the country as well as Aidan did, and he was hoping the publicity from Aidan’s book would, by association, bring awareness to their cause as well.
The timing of the e-mail was eerily perfect. Aidan stared at his computer screen for only a few moments before he knew what he was going to do. He clicked Reply, then told his friend that he’d love to help, that he could be on a plane in as little as a week—as soon as his book was done. He included the phone number at the cabin and asked Garrett to call him as soon as possible.
So, he had a plan and a purpose now. He’d be leaving the cabin, and he’d be going back to Africa. He could do revisions on the book and take care of anything else his editor requested from there, no problem.
He was going back to Africa.
The thought both terrified him and felt absolutely necessary. He had to do it. He would face the ghosts that haunted him, and he would lay them to rest once and for all.
Before he could change his mind, he wanted to tell Emmy.
Okay, maybe he was hoping to torture her a little with the information. But he doubted it would have that effect anyway. Still he wanted to share the news. Mostly he wanted to make the decision more real by saying it aloud to someone.
He stood and went to the window. Emmy was nowhere in sight. Then he remembered that she was moving into the new house now, which he couldn’t see fromhis cabin.
Aidan put on his shoes and headed for the front door, just in time to see a furniture delivery truck coming up the driveway. He went outside and walked toward the woods as several men climbed out of the truck and began unloading something from the back.
He watched as Emmy met the man at the truck. Aidan went to the deck to wait until they were finished.
He marveled at his ability to go outside, to face strangers even, without feeling afraid anymore.
He had Emmy to thank for that, and the thought made his throat tighten. He hadn’t given her enough credit for the positive ways in which she’d influenced his life and his recovery. He’d been too blinded by the pain from what she wouldn’t give him to see the gifts she had brought.
She looked fresh and happy today, as she talked with the furniture deliverymen. She wore a green cotton sundress that glided over her curves beautifully and accented her smooth, angular shoulders with little spaghetti straps that tied at the top.
The men began carrying a couch toward the cabin, and Emmy came back to the deck, surprised to see him there waiting for her.
“Hi,” she said. “I’m finally filling this place with some furniture.”
“Congratulations.”
“I got two jobs this week,” she said, unable to contain the huge smile that lit up her face.
“Two?”
“An order for a three-bedroom cabin on the other side of the lake, and an order for a one-bedroom over in Leightonville.”
“Word’s spreading about your talent.”
“I attended a green-energy festival last weekend—that’s what brought me the new business.”
“That’s great. I’m happy for you.”
“It’s a huge relief. I was down to the bottom of my savings account when this money came in. Hence the furniture order,” she said, grinning.
“I’ve got a little news of my own,” he started to say, but she interrupted him.
“Oh, before I forget! My mom’s coming back from vacation with Max tomorrow, and I thought you might like to join us all for dinner.”
“Thanks,” Aidan said. “I—I’m not sure I can make it, but I’ll try.”
“Sorry, what was your news?”
“I’m going to be leaving the cabin in about a week.
I’m almost finished with the book, and I got an offer to join a friend working for a nonprofit in Africa.”
Emmy looked shocked. “Oh, wow. So soon.”
“I’ve been here long enough. I mean, I certainly managed to get in your way plenty.”
“I’ve just gotten used to having you here. I guess I stopped hoping you’d leave so I could have the cabin a long time ago.” She flashed a rueful grin.
“Have you thought about living in the main cabin so that you can keep the new one in model-home condition for your business?”
“That was my original plan. But…I don’t know. I feel like I should live in the place so people can see what it’s really like to live there—where I store my stuff, how the place looks fully lived in. It seems a more honest way to sell what I’m offering.”
Aidan nodded. “Sounds like a tall order for a single mom to accomplish—keeping the kid on his toes for impromptu open houses?”
“Perhaps, but I’m going to try. It’ll be good motivation to keep the house clean, anyway.”
“Maybe hire a housekeeper,” he said, thinking that’s what the Emmy he’d known would automatically do. She’d been raised with other people doing her bidding.
“No, I don’t want Max to grow up like I did. I want him to experience the collaborative work it takes to keep a household running.”
Aidan blinked at her words. She really had changed. She wasn’t the same spoiled princess anymore.
But she wasn’t his, either. He wasn’t going to torture himself anymore with wanting what he couldn’t have.
He had to let go.
Leaving Promise Lake would be his final act of letting go, and it would come not a moment too soon. Part of him ached at the thought of leaving Emmy—and Max, he realized—while another part of him could not wait to get away from the dull, throbbing pain their presence in his life created.
“It won’t be the same around here without you,” she said.
“Max will have to find a new pirate to observe.”
“He’s going to be sad to see you go,” she said quietly, and he could read on her face that she regretted having let him and the kid spend time together.
Now he would be yet another man walking out of Max’s life. But not for good. He’d stay in touch, if Max wanted that. He’d send him things from Africa, and he’d come back to visit when he could…
Hell, who was he kidding? He wasn’t Max’s father, and he certainly couldn’t be his deadbeat dad either.
“I’ll miss that kid,” he said, but one of the deliverymen stopped to ask Emmy where she wanted the desk they were about to unload.
“In the last bedroom,” she said. Then to Aidan, “If you could send him a few mementoes from Africa, he’d really love it.”
“Of course I will.”
She looked as if she wanted to say something else, but she didn’t. Instead, she reached out and touched his arm, gripped it gently in her hand for a moment then let go. He almost thought she was going to cry, but her expression remained only solemn.
“I’ll…be sad to see you go, too,” she finally said.
“Now don’t go getting all mushy on me,” Aidan joked. “I know you’re lying anyway. You’ve got another week to put up with me.”
He couldn’t take any more of this, so he took a step back and turned toward the cabin.
Part of him expected Emmy to stop him, to tell him he couldn’t leave because she was in love with him, but that was the same foolish part of him that had believed all along she wanted him when she didn’t.
So he walked away, and she didn’t stop him. He vowed it was the last time he’d ever let that happen.
EMMY TOLD HERSELF she was glad Aidan was leaving. She told herself it was a huge relief. She didn’t want him in her family cabin, constantly underfoot, and when he was gone, her life at Promise Lake really would be a fr
esh start, free of ghosts from the past.
Max’s return from his time with his grandmother was a welcome reunion. She’d had time to recharge and catch up on work, and start getting them moved into the new house, and she was thrilled to have her boy back.
But on his first day home, she made the mistake of telling him that Aidan was leaving soon.
Max felt far differently than she did about Aidan’s departure.
“But why is he leaving?” Max said, kicking the back of the new sofa so that Emmy had to bite her tongue to keep from scolding him too harshly.
“I understand you’re upset, but please don’t kick the furniture,” she said calmly.
Once in a rare while, she managed to impress herself with her parenting skills.
“He doesn’t want to be around us anymore?”
“That’s not it at all, sweetie.” She took his hand and led him around the sofa, then sat and pulled him onto her lap. He smelled like trees and dust, and she buried her nose in his hair for a moment.
“He’s finished writing his book, and he has a new job to go to far away from here,” she explained.
“Is he going to Tibet, too?”
Emmy winced. Tibet, to Max, was probably the place men went to escape him. “No, he’s going to a country in Africa, I think.”
“Oh,” he said, sounding dejected.
“I know it’s hard when a friend leaves, but on the bright side, we’ve been making lots of new friends since we moved here, haven’t we?”
“I guess. Who will live in the cabin when Aidan leaves?”
“I suppose it’ll go back to sitting empty unless someone in our family wants to use it.”
“Can I make a fort there?”
“Sure you can, any time you want.”
He seemed momentarily satisfied with this idea. “Can we call Daddy?”
Emmy’s stomach knotted. “I don’t have a way to reach him by phone, remember?”
“Why did he have to go where he doesn’t have a phone?”
Good question, Emmy wanted to say, but she did her best to stick to her policy of never bad-mouthing Max’s dad.
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