“It’s not even four, and I’m not hungry. I do feel like I could down a gallon of water though.”
“By the time we arrive and get seated we’ll be famished. You can drink all the water you want while we wait.”
“I can’t. I have too much reading to do. Accounting does not come naturally to me.”
They pulled into Abby’s apartment complex, and her eyes swept across the parking lot as Gillian drove toward her building.
Her eyes fixed on a shiny blue Silverado in the second row between her car and a late-model Taurus. She honed in on the driver. Male. Broad shouldered.
Crap.
Abby ducked down flat on the seat, her heart in her throat. “Keep going.”
“Wha—”
“Drive past my building.”
Gillian let off the brake. “Abby, what are you—”
“Look straight ahead and drive past. Go back to the street and turn right.”
“Ooo-kaay . . .”
Gillian braked for the speed bump, then accelerated. Abby prayed he hadn’t seen her. She’d ducked before coming to the front of the truck. Besides, he didn’t know this car. But her Fiat was right in the lot, so he had to know she was out with someone.
Gillian turned right at the street.
Abby laid low for two blocks. “Is anyone following us?”
Gillian checked the rearview mirror.
“An elderly woman in a minivan. Or is that a man? Oh my gosh, I’ve never seen an elderly man with such long hair. That is disgusting.”
Abby sat up enough to peek out the back window. All clear. She straightened in her seat, pushing back her hair, her breaths coming fast and shallow.
“You want to tell me what that was all about?”
“Not really.”
“Are you in danger? Is this about one of your cases?”
“No.”
“Is it Lewis? Is he threatening you?”
“No.”
“Are you going to keep giving me one-word answers?”
Abby couldn’t believe Ryan was here. Why couldn’t he understand that this wasn’t going to work? Why was he being so stubborn? Maybe if she went back and just told him.
But no, she’d already done that. And she knew how she was with him. Ten minutes alone and she’d be a melted puddle, headed right back to where she had been. Then the arguments would start, the beginning of the end. She couldn’t go there again. If she’d learned anything, it was that.
She’d ignore him, and he’d forget about her soon enough. Maybe, someday, she’d be able to forget him too.
Abby checked behind them again. Still clear. “Can I spend the night at your place?”
“If you tell me why I just did a drive-by at your apartment.”
Abby huffed. “Fine. It was Ryan.”
“Ryan—your ex-husband Ryan?”
“Do we know any other Ryans?”
Abby looked out the window, watching the buildings zoom past, her mind back at the apartment where he waited. What would he do when she didn’t come home? What if he was still there in morning?
“Maybe you should talk to him, Abby.”
“I did talk to him. For a whole week.”
“Has he tried to contact you recently?”
“Yes.”
“I’m assuming you ignored him, and now he feels like a visit is the only way to reach you?”
“It’s for the best, Gillian,” she said, using her that’s my final answer tone. She didn’t know what she’d been thinking yesterday, wanting to call him. The man scrambled her brain.
She’d thought a hundred miles between them was enough, but obviously she was wrong. Yet another reason why she needed that job in St. Paul.
“If you say so,” Gillian said. “If you want to discuss it, you know where I am.” She turned up the air. “Well, I guess we have plenty of time for that Italian dinner now.”
Chapter Thirty-One
RYAN WATCHED THE OFFENSIVE LINE DO THEIR BARREL drills. He had a good line this year. Big, strong guys. If they could only get their technique right.
“Get lower, Balinsky!” he called. “Hey, Pruitt, put some shoulder into it! Come on, guys!”
He scowled at the line. It was their first week in full pads, and it was like some of them forgot they had the extra protection. They were as tentative as a bunch of baby ballerinas at their first recital.
“Dig, Asher!”
Maybe it was almost ninety degrees, but they’d better get used to it. They had a scrimmage Saturday, their first game next week, and they were nowhere near ready. His eyes scanned the field. His quarterbacks were doing the quick hands drill, and the defensive line was doing ladder drills.
His eyes fell on a figure crossing the practice field. He’d recognize Daniel’s easy gait anywhere. That and the clothes. Who else would show up to two-a-days in a tie?
“How’s it going?” his friend asked when he neared.
“Not as good I’d like.” Ryan shook his head. “I don’t know about these guys.”
“You say that every year.”
“If I didn’t have high expectations, they’d have nothing to live up to.” He cupped his hand over his mouth. “Stop tipping the barrel, Balinsky! Come on, man!” He turned back to Daniel. “What are you doing here?”
“Official business. Need to scope out this year’s talent, give an inspiring speech, and report back to the paper.”
“Really?”
“Nah, I just came to bug you.”
Ryan almost smiled. The closest he’d come in a week. “I’ll give you inspiring. I’m going to chew them out in about five minutes.”
After practice—and said chewing—Ryan joined Daniel for lunch at Cappy’s Pizzeria. It was a rowdy crowd, mostly moms and kids, the former probably eager for school’s start, the latter no doubt wringing out the last of summer’s freedom.
Several people approached Daniel as they settled in, asking questions about this event or that meeting. Ryan surveyed the familiar menu, waiting. It was all part of having a mayor for a best friend.
After they were alone they ordered a large Whole Shebang and settled back in the booth.
Ryan took a drink of his Coke. “How are the girls? Madison said they started swimming lessons this week.”
“It’s more like splash class, but Jade doesn’t want them afraid of the water.”
“Jade’s never been afraid of the water.”
“Madison was afraid enough for both of them.”
“How are your parents?”
Daniel’s dad was an Indiana senator, but he and his wife spent most of their time in DC.
“Dad’s fund-raising, Mom’s got her charities. Pretty much par for the course.”
He took a sip of his soda, his eyes bumping with Ryan’s. “So you’ve been kind of quiet lately.”
“Since I made that quick exit from the McKinley family barbecue, you mean?” They’d only exchanged a couple texts since then.
Daniel gave a wry smile. “They mean well.”
“They don’t know when to stop.”
“True enough. So what’s going on with Abby? Have you called her since you got back?”
“Called, texted, waited on her doorstep. I pretty much feel like your average stalker.”
“She’s not responding?”
Ryan pushed his drink away. “What else is new?”
“She never was an easy one.”
“No, she wasn’t.”
I told you I was complicated. I told you you didn’t want me.
Why did he have to fall in love with someone so unyielding? So closed off? He thought of the last scene in Summer Harbor with her father and felt a pinch of guilt. He’d be closed off too if he’d been treated the way she had. What did he know about those kinds of scars?
“You never really said what happened on that trip.”
“It’s a long story.”
Daniel checked his watch. “I have until two. Lay it on me.”
So Ry
an did. He told Daniel about their late-night conversations in Summer Harbor, about the fun they’d had when Abby wasn’t working so hard to keep her guard up. He told Daniel about their time at the fishing shack and their arguments on the way home. He even told him how Abby’s dad treated her, leaving out the details.
“I thought God wanted me to go on that trip,” Ryan said. “I thought He was releasing me to win her back. Was I wrong? I must’ve been wrong. Otherwise, she’d be answering my calls.”
“I don’t know, Ryan. There’s that thing called free will. Maybe you did what you were supposed to, but she doesn’t have the courage to do her part. Sounds like she had a tough upbringing. That has a way of molding you a certain way.”
Daniel would know. His parents had practically abandoned him in Chapel Springs with his grandma when he was young. No doubt that had had its effects on him.
“So it’s just hopeless?”
“I’m just saying you can’t make the decision for her.”
“I keep thinking if I just say the right thing . . . I mean, back at the shack, it was so good. It felt so right. She was happy, and we were getting along, and then it all went to hell in a handbasket.”
Empathy flickered in Daniel’s eyes. “I know how you feel, buddy, I really do.”
Ryan thought back to when Jade had broken her engagement to Daniel. Yeah, Daniel’d had his heart broken. He’d been a hot mess for weeks.
“Yeah, well, I hope I don’t have to fall into a coma to get Abby back.”
Daniel gave a puff of laughter. “That wasn’t first on my list of preferences either. But it just goes to show that if it’s God’s will, it’ll happen, one way or another.”
“You think I should just back off.”
“I think when someone like Abby is chased, she tends to run.”
Boy, if that wasn’t the truth. That didn’t mean he liked it. He preferred to do, not sit and wait. “Waiting makes me feel so flipping helpless.”
The server set their steaming pie in the center of the table and walked away.
“Yeah. I know. Just keep praying for her. That’s all you can really do. And if it’s meant to be—that will be enough.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
“HAVE A SEAT, ABBY.” FRANK MOTIONED HER TO THE chair across from his cluttered desk.
She’d had a long day, and she hoped it wasn’t about to get longer. He had that we-need-to-talk look on his face, and Abby knew he’d made a decision about St. Paul.
Her heart battered her ribs as she took a seat and crossed her legs. Come on, God. I know we’re not on the best of terms. But I need that job more than ever. I need to get out of here. I need to be far, far away from Chapel Springs.
Frank ran his hand over his thick mustache, regarding her with his poker face. “You get the Warren case all wrapped up, kid?”
“Yesterday. She had a bank account in the Caymans to the tune of 1.5 million.”
He whistled. “That’ll change the settlement just a tad.”
“I expect so.” She wished he’d get on with it. She’d already been waiting almost six months. “Mr. Warren was very pleased.”
“I’m sure he was. And your class finished well?”
“A minus.”
“Very good.” He folded his thick fingers on a stack of papers. “You’ve worked hard to strengthen your weaknesses. And you’ve conducted your cases competently with the highest degree of ethics—as you know, that matters to me.”
She swallowed. Why did she feel like there was a “but” coming?
“I’ve been looking at potential buildings in St. Paul, and I think I’ve found the right location. There’s an auction on it, coming up in a month, and after that, assuming all goes well, we’ll have access to it. You might want to inform your landlord.”
Abby sat frozen for a full five seconds. “You mean—I got the promotion?”
Frank gave a wide smile, showing his crooked bottom teeth. “It’s all yours, kid.”
A breath tumbled out. It was hers! She’d gotten the promotion. She’d have her own agency—she was moving to St. Paul.
“I don’t know what to say. Thank you. I’m really honored.”
“You deserve it, Abby. You’re a hard worker. I know you’ll do me proud.”
Abby stood on shaky legs. “I will. I guarantee it.”
Abby drove home in a fog. There was so much to do. She had to find a place to live, pack up her things, notify the postal service, the phone company, the electric and utility companies.
By the time she got home the exhilaration had waned, leaving a wake of numbness. It was settling in that she’d be leaving Indy and all the things that made this feel like home. Starting over, with no friends, no home. Just a job and a lot of work to do.
She took Boo out, working on a mental to-do list that quickly made her wish for pen and paper. But even that failed to boost her flattened mood.
She made herself a grilled cheese and ate alone, not really tasting it. When she was finished she called Gillian, hoping to find that jittery excitement again.
“Guess who got a promotion?” she asked with instilled enthusiasm.
“Abby . . . Congratulations!”
“Frank sat me down just as I was leaving. I still can’t believe it.”
“I can. Why would he promote that imbecile over you?”
Abby told Gillian about the building in St. Paul and the timeline, filling her in on all the things she’d need to do before she moved.
When Abby was finished, a heavy sigh sounded in her ear.
“You’re leaving. I mean, I knew it was likely, and I’m really thrilled for you, but I’ll be honest. I’m disheartened for me. Am I allowed to be a little selfish here?”
“That’s the only part I hate about this.” Gillian was the best friend she’d ever had.
“Who am I going to watch movies with?” Gillian’s voice was thick with tears. “Who am I going to tell when I’ve had an atrocious day? Or when some really attractive guy asks me out? It could happen.”
“You can come visit. We’ll have movie marathons and eat ice cream until we have to put on stretchy pants.”
“It’s nine hours away. I checked.”
“I know, but there’s Skype and texts and e-mails and phone calls. We’ll stay in touch.”
“It won’t be the same. But I will come visit, and I know you’re going to do an outstanding job. You deserve this opportunity, and I’m not going to rain on your parade, daggonit.”
“I wonder if he’s told Lewis yet.”
“Oh, if only I could be a fly on the wall,” Gillian said.
“He’s probably losing it right this minute.”
“Do you think he’ll lose it in front of Frank?”
“No. He needs this job. He’ll hold it together and have his tantrum at home. I don’t envy his wife tonight.”
“I don’t envy her any night.”
Abby laughed. “Good point.”
After they got off the phone, Abby grabbed a notebook and started her list, but found her mind wandering between bullet points. The thought of leaving Gillian had left a sour taste in her mouth.
Nine hours away. She hadn’t actually figured out the distance before. It seemed so far. But she’d moved much farther than that from her hometown.
Yeah, but you had Ryan then.
Now she was going alone. Abby chided herself. It wasn’t the first time she’d started over alone, for heaven’s sake. She’d gone away to college. She’d come to Indy. She was used to being alone, starting over.
And the farther she was from Ryan the better. She knew it was true. So why did the thought of moving weight her stomach? She hadn’t heard from him since she’d seen him in the parking lot a few days ago.
When she’d come home the next morning, she’d half expected to find him still there, but his truck was gone. She’d thought he’d at least leave a note. But there was nothing. No sign he’d been there at all. And he hadn’t called or texted since.
See, your plan is working. He’s forgetting all about you.
Her chest tightened at the thought. She tucked the sofa pillow into the achy spot, disgusted with herself. That was the reason she needed distance. Her conflicting emotions would only get her in trouble again.
She’d move to St. Paul, and when she got there, she’d change her phone number. Maybe she wouldn’t even leave a forwarding address with the postal service. Then he’d have no way to reach her, no way to find her, and they could both finally move on with their lives.
Chapter Thirty-Three
THAT WEEKEND GILLIAN CAME OVER TO HELP ABBY PACK some seldom-used things. Abby had picked up boxes from the local grocery store, and they were filling fast. Before she knew it, her whole life would be packed away in cardboard.
Gillian turned from her spot on the kitchen floor, holding up a misshapen clay pot. “What is this?”
“The little girl next door made it for me. Wrap it carefully, it’s one of a kind.”
“Aw, that’s sweet. You’re going to miss this place.”
She really was. She was going to miss everything here. Gillian, her apartment, her neighbors. She’d found a promising place in St. Paul online, but it was more expensive than she was used to, and the manager didn’t seem too crazy about dogs.
“You must be really busy. I’ve hardly heard from you the last few days.”
“There’s a lot to do to get ready. And I still have my work here. I don’t want Frank to regret his choice.”
“How’s Lewis been?”
“He hasn’t spoken to me since Wednesday, which is fine by me. How was work this week for you?”
“Terrific, actually. One couple who came to me a month ago planning to divorce have decided to keep working at it, and I believe they’ll prevail if they put in the effort. They both seem willing.”
“At least they have a great counselor.”
Abby grabbed another sheet of newspaper and wrapped a coffee mug she hadn’t used in months. It was true she’d been busy. But the main reason she’d avoided Gillian was because her mood had been so low. Why wasn’t she happier? She was getting what she’d worked so hard for.
What is wrong with me?
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