The Very Thought of You

by Iris Morland

  "Is that how you got Gretchen to marry you?" Caleb asked wryly.

  "You bet your ass it is. I had to grovel and show her I was the best man for the job. She finally decided I was worth it and it's the best thing that's ever happened to me." He pointed at Caleb. "Don't be a dumbass and let a woman like Megan leave you because you had too much pride to grovel."

  Caleb knew Gonzalez was right, and he told himself he would take his advice and be honest with her. About everything. The old fear coalesced in his stomach, and he hated that it could still cause him to break out into a cold sweat. He remembered the lights, the screams, the impact...the sight of Daniel's body as they pulled him from the wreckage. The look on Stephanie Finley’s face when she saw Caleb at school months later.

  He realized he was breathing hard, and he forced back the panic. Wiping his forehead, he got to work. Another officer would be patrolling near The Rise and Shine today, although Caleb didn't like it when he wasn't near Megan. If he'd already lost one friend. What would happen if he lost someone like Megan?

  By the afternoon, he'd been able to focus on the case at hand, but everything crashed to a standstill when he checked his personal email on his phone. When he saw the sender's name, he couldn't believe it.

  Stephanie Finley: Daniel's mother.

  Why would Stephanie Finley be emailing him now? What in the world did she even have to say to him? Did she want to tell him how much she hated that he hadn't been the one who'd been killed instead? Caleb stared at the email, the innocuous yet vague subject line (Hello), and he almost deleted the email without reading it.

  But he didn't deserve not to read it.

  He opened it, his pulse pounding in his temples. As he began to read, expecting the worst, he realized what he'd thought would be the worst couldn't compare to what Stephanie had written to him.

  Dear Caleb,

  I'm sure you weren't expecting to get an email like this today. I wrote and rewrote this email so many times that it seems like I started it years ago.

  You might not remember me, but I was Daniel's mother. Do you remember coming over to our house when you two were in junior high? You and Daniel would play that X-Box for hours, and the only way I could get you to take a break was to tell you dinner was ready. You would always come over to our house, but Daniel only ever went to your house a few times, mostly for your birthday parties. I know how much you loved coming over to a house that wasn't so...well, I'm sure you know. I don't want to say anything against your parents by any means.

  But I'm not writing this to reminisce. I've recently moved back to Fair Haven, and I wanted to ask if you wanted to get coffee or lunch sometime. You were the person closest to Daniel before he died, and you're one of the few links left of him.

  I won’t lie and say that I wasn’t angry with you for a long time, but as the years passed, my anger faded. I wanted to remember Daniel—and your friendship with him—more than I wanted to remember how Daniel had died. I’ve made my peace with what happened. I hope you have as well.

  Let me know if you can meet sometime soon.

  All the best,

  Stephanie

  The words blurred until Caleb couldn't see. His eyes were dry, though, because he'd cried so many tears over Daniel that none were left. He felt like the walls were closing in on him, and he had to get out of the station. What if they found out what he'd done?

  God, he was a coward.

  He almost ran outside, but when he blinked at the bright sunshine, he had no idea where he wanted to go. Aimless, he walked to a nearby park.

  All of the memories of that night came flooding back, but more painfully, happier memories came, too: those afternoons playing video games with Daniel, the pranks they played on Caleb's siblings, the long bike rides through the town. The one time they'd tried switching identities in third grade and had both gotten in huge trouble. Lisa Thornton hadn't thought it was funny at all, but Stephanie had barely restrained a smile at the boys' antics.

  Playing in the snow, the few times it had actually snowed in Fair Haven; going fishing in a nearby stream behind Daniel's house; the cookies Stephanie would make, and the peanut butter ones she would make just for Caleb. All of it pushed at Caleb's consciousness until he couldn't breathe. He couldn't think, and he could barely parse any of his emotions beyond one that overwhelmed him: guilt.

  So much guilt that he drowned in it.

  The old panic returned: fear that people would find out what he’d done. Fear that he should’ve fought his parents about concealing the reality behind Daniel’s death. Fear that he could never truly atone for his sins.

  How did you find forgiveness when you knew you didn’t deserve it and never would?

  I need to see Megan, he thought desperately. He should leave her be, because he was a fraud and a coward, but he didn't care. Only in her arms could he find peace and, maybe, absolution.

  13

  Megan tried not to notice how quiet Caleb seemed that night. She chalked it up to a long day at work, although when she'd tried to ask him about it, he'd brushed her off and then kissed her until she'd almost forgotten what she'd wanted to ask him.

  What is he hiding? She didn't want to think that he was hiding anything, but it niggled at her brain all evening as she cooked them dinner.

  Megan had never been the girlfriend who cooked and cleaned—well, she would if she had to, but she had gotten irritated with any guy who assumed she had to be the one to do those tasks. But tonight, she wanted to cook for Caleb. Probably because he's a terrible cook, she thought wryly, remembering the burnt batch of scrambled eggs he'd made her at his house that morning.

  “What are you making?" he asked her as he wrapped his arms around her from behind.

  "It's a surprise." She slapped his hand away when he tried to pilfer a piece of cheese. "No stealing anything!"

  He laughed softly, the exhalation warm against her neck. When he started kissing her neck and shoulder, she was torn between pushing him away so she could get dinner ready and taking him by the hand into her bedroom.

  To both her consternation and gratitude, Gary chose that moment to hop onto the counter and almost stepped on her cutting board with recently chopped vegetables.

  "Gary! Get off of there!" She picked up the cat—who yowled in protest—and placed him on the kitchen floor. Normally she wouldn't care if Gary hung out on her counter as she cooked (she was enough of a crazy cat lady that nothing much bothered her in regards to Gary) but she didn't want Caleb to think she was like that.

  He only laughed again, mostly at Gary's annoyed face. Then again, his smashed face had a tendency to give him a look of perpetual disgruntlement.

  "He only wants to help." Caleb reached down and picked up Gary, holding him against his chest. Gary started purring like a motor boat the moment Caleb started scratching his ears.

  Megan rolled her eyes. "That cat is a traitor." She pointed a finger at Gary. "Who feeds you? Scoops your stinky litter box? Not this guy. Stop acting like he's your favorite."

  Gary only closed his eyes and purred louder.

  When they sat down to eat dinner in the living room, they both ate in silence for some moments. It wasn't uncomfortable, though, and it felt rather like a pleasant silence between a couple who had known each other for many years. Megan's heart secretly thrilled. She wanted to call Ruth and tell her she had nothing to worry about. Who did she think she was, anyway, warning Megan like that?

  "My mom came over after you dropped me off," she said into the silence after she'd finished her piece of quiche.

  Caleb's brows rose. Megan hadn't exactly divulged everything about her childhood to him, but he knew enough. "How was that? And what did she want?"

  "She thought she needed to warn me." At his confused look, she added, "From you. Your family."

  A light red washed over his cheeks. Clearly embarrassed, he just shook his head. "Don't worry about my mom. She's not going to try anything a second time. She's learned her lesson—believe me." />
  "That's what I told her, but she still had the audacity to warn me, like she was some kind of mother." The old hurt resurfaced. "She wasn't a mother to me or Sara for most of our lives, and now she comes in and acts like that never happened?" She scoffed. "Yeah, right. I'm not really interested in her supposed advice."

  Caleb didn't say anything, but he looked concerned. Rubbing her fingers, he said quietly, "Do you want to talk about it?"

  She didn't. She never did. She didn't talk about it with Sara, certainly, and not with Ruth. But Caleb's quiet look of reassurance gave her the courage to speak for the first time in what felt like an eternity.

  "My mom...well, you know the stories. She was a drunk from the time I was in kindergarten until just a few years ago. She went to rehab so many times I lost count. When I was little, anytime she'd go away to get help, I always hoped that that time, it would stick. She'd come back, no more bottles of vodka in her trunk, and she'd be the mom I wanted her to be. The mom who took us to Girl Scout meetings and baked for bake sales. You know, the normal kind of moms."

  "But that didn't happen."

  “No, it didn't. She'd always go back to the bottle. When I got older, I knew that anything she said was a lie." Megan chewed the inside of her cheek. "I stopped hoping she'd get better. Mostly I just wanted to get away from her and from this damn town. I hated this place for a long time."

  "I'm sorry," Caleb said. He didn't say anything else, but oddly enough, she didn't want him to. She'd heard so many platitudes from people that a simple "I'm sorry" said worlds more.

  "Anyway, I was close to getting out of here when, well, you know what happened." She shrugged, still feeling awkward about her arrest. "I got drunk that night, you arrested me, and that was that. I'll be honest, I hated you for a long time." His eyes widened a little at that admission, but he didn't pull away. "I blamed you, even though that was stupid, because it's not like you made me get drunk underage. But I lost my scholarship and I couldn't get out of this town as a result, so you were the easiest target."

  She looked into his eyes, her heart in her throat. "I'm sorry for that. It wasn't fair to you. You were just doing your job that night, and I made it harder. I should never have thrown myself at you, either."

  His eyes were dark, searching, and Megan had the oddest sensation that he was examining her very soul at that moment. She hated the vulnerability of the moment, but she refused to retreat. She always retreated, didn't she? It was easier than being honest with herself. It was easier to misinterpret your own emotions than confront your own weaknesses.

  "I don't blame you." His voice was husky. "I mean, I'll admit that that night I wasn't too fond of you. You put me in an awkward position, but you were young. We've all done stupid shit as kids." She saw him visibly swallow, and his mouth tightened. "You're not alone in that."

  Megan studied him: he'd said words like that to her before. What was plaguing Caleb to this extent?

  She had a feeling Caleb wasn't going to disclose so easily, though. In an attempt to draw him out, she thought that continuing to be honest about herself might somehow help him, if at least in a roundabout way.

  "You know what my greatest fear was?" She looked ahead, and when Gary hopped onto her lap, she petted him with absent strokes. "I was so afraid of turning into my mother, but for whatever reason, I thought that that meant I should drink. Because I was going to prove I could drink but not be like her." She almost laughed at the words because they sounded so...childish."Obviously that wasn't the case. I got drunk and arrested at seventeen. Nice, right? Ever since, though, I haven't drunk anything because I think I'm still afraid of becoming like my mom."

  She looked over at Caleb to gauge his reaction. His face was drawn, like he was in pain. She wanted to touch him, but she almost felt like he'd put up a wall around himself.

  "You aren't like your mother," he said. "Not even slightly."

  "I hope so. It still eats at me, I guess. I also have this irrational hatred for people who drink and hurt others, you know? Including myself. I hate myself for what I did. I'm just glad no one else was hurt."

  Caleb looked pained. Megan reached for him, wanting to understand him. She worried that her confession had somehow made him see her differently. Did he think her unbearably petty for hating him for so long? That she hadn't changed from that rebellious teenager? She opened her mouth to ask, her heart thumping painfully, when he laid his forehead against hers.

  He rested it there. He breathed her in, his fingers sifting through her hair.

  "God, Megan. God. You don't know what you do to me."

  She wanted to ask him what he even meant, but he silenced her thoughts with an almost brutal kiss. Leaning her over his arm, he took her mouth like a marauder, and she could only catch a breath before he kissed her again. Thorough kisses, so hot and wet that Megan's body responded instantly.

  Caleb laid her down on the couch; Megan only barely noticed Gary jumping onto the back of the couch.

  But as they kissed, she sensed that this was only stalling the inevitable. Breaking their embrace, she gazed up at him and took his face in her hands.

  "What is it?" She stroked his cheek. "Tell me. Please, Caleb."

  His eyes were dark, searching her. He didn't kiss her again, and she ached for him. Finally, he sat up and away from her and pushed his fingers through his hair.

  "I should go." He got off the couch and headed to the door.

  Megan blinked. She'd expected a lot of things—but not this.

  "Don't leave." She took his arm, trying to convince him. "Why can't we talk about whatever it is that's bothering you? Did I say something?"

  He gently pushed her away, and that only stoked her frustration. It reminded her of when he'd pushed her away after she'd tried to kiss him, all those years ago. The pity in his eyes only caused the fire in her belly to increase.

  "Don't run away from me," she said. "Why is it that I can be honest, but you can't be?"

  He inhaled sharply. His face like granite, he stepped away from her before opening the door. "I should go. I'll see you tomorrow at the bakery. Lock your door and all of your windows tonight. We're getting close to catching this guy and he seems to have gone into hiding, but you should be careful regardless."

  This was his police officer voice, detached and unemotional. Megan wanted to scream, to shake him until his teeth clattered. Willing her anger to fade so she could speak without saying something she'd regret, she merely nodded tightly.

  "Fine. I'll see you later. Maybe then you can tell me what's going on."

  She barely saw it—but the flash of pain on his face melted her frustration. Her heart hurting, she embraced him. He was stiff in her arms for a moment until he melted. Hugging her so tightly she could barely breathe, he muttered her name in her ear before he finally walked out the door.

  14

  Jubilee sighed and leaned against the counter. "I need a break. Or a cup of coffee. Maybe both."

  Megan looked at the clock. "You can go on break, but I'll need you back when the afternoon rush hits."

  "Aye aye, captain." Jubilee waved hello to the officer stationed outside before beginning her typical walk around the block.

  Now it was Megan's turn to sigh. Caleb hadn't been stationed at The Rise and Shine in the last five days, and she’d barely heard from him. When she texted, he was vague, saying he was busy with work. She had seen a cop car outside her house more than once, though, and she knew that Caleb was keeping an eye on her. He just wasn't with her.

  Her heart sank into her toes. She'd said too much that night, hadn't she? Now Caleb thought the worst of her, and it was her own fault. Except that realization only made her angry. She wiped down the counter with furious strokes. If he really thought the worst of her now, that was his problem, not hers. She didn't want to be with a guy like that anyway.

  She told herself that, but it didn't help the anxiety in her gut. She was halfway tempted to go straight to the station and demand Caleb tell her what
was going on. Maybe then he'd finally spill whatever it was he was keeping locked up inside.

  Jubilee returned before her break was over, two coffees in her hand. Megan gave her a wry look. "You know we have coffee here, right?"

  "Sure, but not like this. Anyway, take it. You look like you could use it." Jubilee eyed Megan over the rim of her cup.

  The afternoon rush would be starting soon, and Megan rather wished it would start right now. She didn't want to spill her guts to Jubilee—especially not about her exasperating brother. Yet Megan hadn't talked to anyone about him. Sara had come over to talk about Ruth's visit, and although Megan had confirmed that she and Caleb were...well, something, she hadn't wanted to say anything to her older sister.

  "Has Caleb always been evasive?" Megan asked quietly. At Jubilee's look, she explained, "I mean, emotionally. Like he puts up a wall around himself?"

  "Ah. I know what you mean." Jubilee fiddled with her coffee's sleeve. "Caleb is one of those people you think you know really well, but then you discover things about him you never even knew were there."

  "Meaning...?"

  "He's evasive."

  Megan sighed. "Do you know why? Or is that just his personality?"

  "What's he done? Is he avoiding you?"

  A blush crawled up Megan's face, and she busied herself with finishing wiping the counters. "He won't talk to me," she muttered. "I think I freaked him out the other night."

  "I think that Caleb is good at reading other people, but not good at reading himself. At least, that's what I've managed to figure out about him as I've gotten older." Jubilee sipped her coffee. "That being said, I'm his little sister, and he left home when I was pretty young. To me, he's the older brother I've always looked up to. He's not as bad as Mark, though. Or Seth. Those two are so mysterious it's a wonder I even know their names." She rolled her eyes.