Entangled

by Melissa Brayden

  “No. Um, I don’t think I remember the exact day.”

  Joey shrugged. “Approximately, then.”

  There was a long pause. Becca seemed to make a difficult decision. “Just before the fire,” she said quietly. Joey had to replay the sentence to be sure she’d heard it correctly over the sounds of the rides, music, and chatter. But there’d been no mistake.

  “That was weeks ago. Becca…” She shook her head in disbelief.

  “I wanted to get through the holidays. Let you enjoy them. I figured we’d talk about it after that.”

  “You. Figured.”

  Gabriella stepped forward. “She wanted to tell you. I can vouch for that. She was devastated.”

  Joey stared hard at her friends. “You knew?” She looked to Madison. “Did you?”

  Madison slid her hands into the back pockets of her jeans and nodded, regretfully.

  And there it was. Her ears buzzed unpleasantly. “You all knew. Of course you did. Why is it always me who ends up looking the sucker? The putz?” she asked the three of them. She nodded a few times as understanding began to rain down.

  “I’m really sorry, and no, you’re absolutely not a sucker,” Becca said.

  “Then why do I feel so foolish? Why do I always end up feeling foolish? You told my friends. You knew for weeks. Everyone’s been waiting for poor Joey to learn the bad news. I’m a joke all over again.”

  “No, it’s not like that at all.” Becca took a step forward but Joey dodged her outstretched hand.

  “Please don’t,” she said, feeling the need to protect herself even from an innocent touch. She set her hot chocolate down on the bench beside them, folded her arms, and faced them. “I’ll tell you one thing. I don’t want to be that girl. I refuse to be. Yet here I am. Poor little Joey.” She turned to her friends and back to Becca. “I don’t really think I’m up for the festival after all. You all should enjoy it, though.”

  She walked away without waiting for a response. She heard Gabriella call after her, and then Madison’s voice intervening, probably telling her what she knew well about Joey, that she’d need this time on her own.

  Joey went home, straight to her bedroom, and stood at the window with the lights off. She felt disappointed, betrayed, and pathetic. All things she’d experienced in her life before, only proving her point that when you put yourself out there, it always came back to bite you. Always. Sure, this wasn’t a betrayal of the magnitude that she’d experienced with Simone, but it was a sharp reminder of why she’d remained on her own for so long. Tonight was a perfect tap on the shoulder that she’d slipped into old habits that would never serve her well.

  After ignoring another apology and check-in message from Becca followed by about eight more, Joey slid into bed. It was strangely empty tonight, but she didn’t lament the space. She forced herself to embrace it, instead, and remember why maybe, just maybe, it was better that way.

  * * *

  “You’re still here.”

  Becca looked up at Madison from her spot on the bench. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been sitting there alone, two cups of cold hot chocolate next to her, but the crowds had died down and some of the vendors were in cleanup mode. They must have been close to the end of the fest.

  “When I downshift, I never quite know what to do with myself.”

  Madison took a seat and held up the two cups. Becca nodded and Madison tossed them into the nearby trash can. “What’s downshifting?” Madison asked.

  “Oh. It’s, uh, when something jarring happens and you lose your normal ability to handle it.” She looked over at Madison. “Have you ever been in an argument and all of sudden you can’t seem to make your brain work because your emotions took over? The words to express yourself just aren’t there?”

  “Oh yeah. Once I had this awful boss, an incredibly sexist vineyard manager with the worst patchy facial hair I’ve ever seen. I’d lie in bed at night and imagine all the amazing things I’d say to him if I had the chance. I finally got it. We had a blowup that had been a long time coming, and I couldn’t remember a single one of them.”

  “Yes.” Becca nodded. “That’s because you’d downshifted.”

  A pause. “When will you upshift?” she asked. Becca realized Madison possessed a no-nonsense way about her that she found refreshing. She wasn’t dramatic or falling all over herself to comfort Becca or stand up for Joey. She was just there as a solid friend.

  “Still waiting to find out.”

  They sat in silence a while longer, watching the waning foot traffic. Lots of giggly folks passed by on their way home after too much of the hard wassail, clutching each other with smiles on their faces. Becca had once imagined that might be how their night would end, too, after a little too much fun. Her heart ached that it hadn’t.

  “You know this has very little to do with the actual deal falling through,” Madison said, once a loud group had passed.

  Becca nodded. “I do now. After seeing the look on her face. God.”

  “She’d never say it out loud, but Joey is terrified of letting someone in, giving them enough power to hurt her. She’s a wounded bird, and we just gave her a taste of those old wounds.”

  “Correction. I did.”

  Madison didn’t argue, probably because this was all at Becca’s hands. She could have been up-front about the deal falling through from the very moment she found out. It certainly would have been more in line with her character. “Is she going to forgive me?” she asked, unable to look at Madison, afraid of her response.

  The hesitation said a lot. “She might just need time. This is Joey we’re talking about, and she seems strong, but she’s a frightened kitten underneath.”

  The Christmas music had stopped, as had the carousing. The nearby rides were shut down, their whirring sound eerily absent. The festival was quiet, headed to bed for another year. With nothing left to do, Becca stood, lost and gutted.

  “I guess I’ll go home, love on my dog, and hope tomorrow is better.”

  “Throw his ball for me, okay?”

  Becca nodded and headed off down the street, as city workers chased down wayward trash. The end of a party, which felt like the perfect metaphor for what was happening in her life at this very moment. She shoved her hands into her pockets and walked to her car feeling sad, lonely, and guilt ridden.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Becca sat on the porch on a gorgeous Christmas Eve morning. Inside, frustration reigned. She’d accepted the blown-off text messages, respected Joey’s request for time on her own, but this had now gone on for too long. With another shake of her head, she knocked on the door to the Big House. This would be her third attempt to get Joey to answer the damn door. She knew she was inside. Loretta had told her as much when she’d stopped first into the tasting room, and Bobby had confirmed when she’d passed him on the path there. Nothing felt right when she and Joey were at odds. Becca needed to fix this and find a way for Joey to understand that she was safe.

  “Joey. Please answer the door. I’ve given you space. I’ve done what you’ve asked. Now it’s time to have a conversation.” A pause. She felt herself begin to crumble. “I miss you, damn it.” She knocked again harder, to no avail, and let her palm rest on the oak door. Somehow that made her feel closer to Joey, who she longed for so much it physically hurt. “I know you’re angry at me, and you have a right to be. But I want a chance to look you in the eye and apologize.” Nothing. “And I don’t want to complain, but it happens to be really, really cold out here. I’m starting to not be able to feel my fingers.”

  “Where are your gloves?” a quiet voice asked on the other side of the door. Joey. Becca grinned and stroked the wood beneath her fingertips.

  “I left them in my car because I’m an idiot.”

  A moment later, the lock clicked, and she heard footsteps retreat. Apparently, Joey had a soft spot for the frozen. Becca didn’t hesitate and let herself inside. The house was warm and smoky, which meant a fire burned in the fir
eplace. She sequestered her memories of the wonderful conversations they’d had in front of it, not to mention more intimate endeavors. She found Joey leaning against the kitchen counter, arms folded, waiting for Becca. She honestly had no idea what she’d find when she did come face-to-face with Joey, but the woman eyeing her now seemed put together, calm, and confident. Her hair was pulled back in a clip, and lazy waves fell around her shoulders. Her thin maroon sweater had been paired with a plaid scarf. In fact, Joey looked beautiful and polished. No broken human in sight. That had to bode well for them, right? Joey had rebounded.

  “Thank you for letting me in. I feel like we haven’t talked in years.” She met Joey’s gaze sincerely. “I’ve hated every second of it.”

  Joey nodded. “I’ve been pushing the limit. Sometimes I do that. I shouldn’t have ignored your messages for so long.”

  “You pushing it? You don’t say?” Becca grinned, trying for levity and failing. She held up a hand. “It’s okay. I know I deserve it. In fact—”

  “Before you say anything more, you don’t have to apologize. You’ve said you were sorry about a million times on my voice mail. We can stipulate it as fact.”

  Becca came around the island and leaned against the counter next to Joey, who felt so far away still. Becca hated it. “All the same, I’m sorry. I want to say so looking straight into your eyes.” Joey glanced away uncomfortably. “I hate that the deal didn’t happen, and I hate even more that I held that information back. I think I was worried about you and was, in a misguided sense, trying to protect you from it for as long as possible, and now I feel like such an idiot for it.”

  “Yeah, that’s the part that gets me,” Joey said, turning back to her. “I’m not a child. You don’t have to fear how I’m going to react. Why does everyone do that? I’m stronger than I’d ever imagined.”

  “I know you are. I didn’t mean to insinuate otherwise.”

  Joey kept going, “And I like you, Becca. A lot. But I don’t want to get caught up.” She said the words as if she was deciding that maybe she wasn’t in the mood for ice cream after all. That casual. That nonchalant. How was it that easy?

  Becca was stunned and stuttered, her thoughts suspended, “Get caught up,” she repeated, not fully absorbing the meaning behind the words.

  “I know myself, and I know that this isn’t going to work for me.” Joey gestured between them. “So why put off the inevitable? I want us both to be happy, and that means I have to remove myself from this equation.”

  “No, you don’t.” Becca stared at Joey hard. “I don’t understand what’s happening right now. This has all been blown out of proportion. You’re ending it? Us? Because of a business deal that fell through? No. Joey, sweetheart, let’s just—”

  “I don’t think we’re in a place for nicknames.” Her voice was unrecognizable.

  “Why are you saying it like you’re an instructor and I’m a student that you’re educating? We know each other. We’re us. Talk to me like I’m Becca. What we have is different. Rare. Haven’t you felt it, too?”

  Joey sighed. “The problem is that it always ends the same, and I let myself forget that because I was having a good time with you, falling for the fairy tale all over again.”

  “I’m not Simone.”

  “No. But you would be.”

  “God.” Becca couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Give me some credit. Hell, give the larger world some. Not everyone is going to burn you.”

  “Isn’t that what I did the past few months? Give you credit.” Joey smiled ruefully as if the whole thing had been a learning experience, when what they had was so much more. “Becca.”

  “Yeah?” There was that delicate, proper voice again. This didn’t feel like Joey, but Becca didn’t know how to break through this carefully crafted exterior.

  “I don’t bear you any ill will. I just have to focus on taking care of things around here. Figuring out how to pull us out of trouble again. I have a restaurant to build, a budget to reinvent, and wine to process. Sitting around wondering when the second shoe is going to drop is exhausting, so…” Her eyes shifted behind Becca to the door.

  “Who are you right now? Joey, please. Talk to me.” It was like the old Joey had been swallowed up, and in her place was someone Becca didn’t for a second recognize or like. Her stomach churned, and the walls seemed to be moving in on her. She hadn’t expected any of this, not even close.

  “I already did. And I have things to do.”

  Unbelievable. “Are you asking me to leave?”

  “I think it would be best, given the difficult nature of all of this.”

  “The difficult nature of a breakup, you mean.” They stared at each other until Becca’s gaze finally fell to the floor. “I’m going to say something first.”

  Joey nodded. “I think that’s fair.”

  “This is not what I want. Hell, it’s not even in the same stratosphere, but if you don’t want me in your life anymore, in your bed, your heart, then I guess I have no choice but to leave.” She gestured between them. “But I’ve never had this with someone before. I’ve never in my life felt this way, and I know deep down that means something.” She heard her voice weaken as she said the words. The floor felt like it was giving way beneath her. Her voice began to crack. “And if you’re telling me that we’re over, then I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now. What do I do?”

  She saw something shift in Joey’s demeanor, a crack in the veneer that lasted only a moment before she straightened, back on track. “You’re going to be fine. You’re Becca Crawford.”

  Becca blinked at her, mystified and confused as to where her Joey had gone. She’d give anything to locate her again. She nodded, held Joey’s stare, and with her broken heart in tow, headed for the door. She closed it behind her and stood stock-still on the porch. She stared out at the world in front of her and found it hard to put one foot in front of the other. Her vision blurred as she made her way to the Juke. Only once she was inside did she let herself feel it all fully. She placed her head on the steering wheel and cried silently as the sun shone above like it was any other day. As she drove from the dusty parking lot to the hilltop exit of the vineyard, she paused and looked back on its beauty one last time.

  She took a picture in her mind, nodded, and drove home in shaky silence.

  * * *

  Inside Josephine Wilder a battle waged like none she’d ever experienced. She wanted nothing more than to run after Becca, bury her face on Becca’s shoulder, into the soft strands of her hair, and let Becca take care of the rest. The other half of Joey, the one in careful control now, wouldn’t allow that to happen. She gripped the countertop instead and stared down the hallway to the front door that now stood empty. Becca was the one person she simply couldn’t turn to anymore. She wouldn’t. When those familiar trappings had popped up again, Joey was out. She had to be. She’d lived through the devastation that was Simone and vowed to be smarter because of it. She’d been incredibly successful. Even when Becca walked into her life, she’d proceeded cautiously…until she hadn’t. She’d gotten caught up. That was her mistake, letting herself get lost in the everyday happiness until the awful moment hit and reminded her of all that was at stake.

  Get out now were the three words that played like an annoying song in her head since the night of the festival. She hated that it hurt Becca so much. The decision hurt her as well, but she wouldn’t allow herself to feel it. It was on its way, though—the tidal wave of emotion she wouldn’t be able to hold at bay any longer approached like an inevitable day on the calendar.

  To Joey’s surprise, the front door opened and her heart leapt at the thought of Becca returning. Madison stalked down the hallway instead.

  “So? What happened?” she asked. “I saw Becca get in her car and leave. Is she coming back with doughnuts? Say yes. I could use a cruller.”

  Joey shook her head, biting the inside of her lip hard, a coping mechanism. The pain distracted her from what woul
d inevitably be worse.

  Madison placed her hands on her hips. “Jo. What did you do?”

  She held up a hand. “Please don’t start on me.” She moved to the one dirty dish in the sink and made a show of directing her focus there. Yep. That bowl definitely needed scrubbing. So much important scrubbing to do.

  Madison eyed her in disbelief. “I thought after a few days, you’d relax out of this defensive position you’ve got going.”

  “I think that’s just called my life.” She paused mid-scrub. “Some people like roller coasters. Thrilling slasher films. Things that get their heart pumping. They do well with the twists and turns. I don’t.” She scrubbed away, harder. “I’m a happier person when out of the fast lane.”

  “A relationship is hardly the fast lane. It’s part of being human. Stop murdering the bowl. The bowl is an innocent.”

  Joey scrubbed ferociously, taking out all of the frustration she felt at herself, Becca, and the universe on that poor defenseless dish. Finally, she pushed away from the sink, physically exhausted.

  “You okay?” Madison asked quietly, as they stood listening to Joey gasp for air.

  “I’m fine,” she said, stalking toward the master bedroom.

  “You’re also a liar,” Maddie said, following after her and not giving an inch.

  “Why are you stalking me?” Joey said in annoyance and took a sharp left for another lap around the living room instead, Madison hot on her heels. “Stop that.”

  “I will not.” Madison picked up speed which prompted Joey to do the same until they engaged in a full-on game of chase.

  “What are you doing? Leave me alone and go make wine.” Joey shot a look over her shoulder, brisk-walking through her own house.

  Madison passed her an incredulous look. “If you’d stop running from me, maybe. Knock it off, Joey.”

  “You.” Suddenly, they were ten years old again. Joey maneuvered her way into the kitchen like one of those walkers at the mall, arms moving in overtime. Madison mirrored her and came around the opposite side of the island. Just as Joey made an about-face, Madison was upon her. She wrapped her arms around Joey from behind and held her in place with a giant, tight, aggressive bear hug.