by Lilly Wilde
She lets out a long sigh. “I guess I have some thinking to do. I just wanted to come by and personally say thanks for all you’ve done for me.”
She reaches over to pull me into a hug. And when she releases me, a feeling of loss curls in my stomach. Although I know the move is what’s best, all I can think is I don’t want to see her go.
I’M SITTING ON THE PORCH when Ragan pulls up. I watch as she slides out of the car and makes her way to the front of the house. She has a confidence in her step that wasn’t visible even a few weeks ago, and I immediately notice the feeling that gives me. I’m proud of her. But there’s something else…that unrecognizable emotion that always seems to surface when I think of her. It’s a feeling I don’t quite understand, so as usual, I push it aside.
“I’ve decided to do it,” she says, when she reaches me. “CeeCee and I are moving to New York.”
I step down from the porch, pick her up and twirl her around. Her arms fly around my neck and her laughter fills the air. It’s a sweet sound that brings a smile to my lips. I set her down on her feet and say, “I knew you’d make the right decision.”
A wide smile crinkles the corners of her eyes. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
“I hope you’re ready for your life to change in a major way because it’s about to.”
“That’s what Andrés keeps repeating…almost verbatim. I think he’s more excited than I am.”
“What does Cecelia think?”
“As much as any kid her age can, I suppose.”
“I know you were worried about how the move would affect her but she’ll be fine.”
“I’m starting to think you’re right. Since the court orders don’t place any limitations on my place of residence, there’s nothing holding me back. So if I’m going to do this, now is the right time. She’s not in school yet, so she won’t be leaving any friends behind, and Lord knows it’s good to place a few hundred miles between her and my joke of a family.”
I look straight into her eyes. She’s different. A striking dissimilarity to the sullen waitress I’d met at the diner. “I’m proud of you.”
As she studies my face, her smile slowly vanishes. “Then why don’t you look like it?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I guess I’m gonna miss you.”
“What?” She feigns a shocked expression.
“I know. Surprises the hell out of me, too.”
I know she sees it in my eyes. I really am gonna miss her. And I wonder if it’s even a fraction of the amount I know she’ll miss me.
She waves me off. “Eh…you’ll move on to your next charity project in no time.”
My brow arches. “Is that what you think you are to me?”
She looks away, unwilling to respond to a question I sense she already knows the answer to.
“You know,” she says, changing the subject. “I’ll bet you fall in love, get married and stay right here in Blue Ridge.”
I let out a cynical laugh. “That’s a bet you’ll lose, so save all those big bucks you’ll be making.”
“You really don’t think love is in the cards for you?”
I shake my head. “Nope.”
“Have you ever been in love or had a girlfriend?”
“There was one. Madison. I mentioned her to you before.”
“What happened? Did she dump you?” she asks, her mouth twisting into a mocking smile.
“According to her, the longer I was away, the more she faded to the back of my thoughts…until I eventually stopped thinking about her altogether.”
“Was she right?”
I shrug and guide her to sit beside me in the swing. “I didn’t think so at the time, but I guess I get it now.”
“What changed your mind?”
“More like who. It was Jimmy. I’ve never seen a man more in love or who doted on any woman the way he did Loretta. He once told me he knew she was the one because every single day, regardless of who he was with or what he was doing, she consumed his every thought. Of all the girls he’d dated, she was the one he couldn’t get out of his head—the one he couldn’t stop thinking about.”
“To be the object of that kind of affection, it must have been an amazing love affair. I guess when you think about it, that’s all any girl wants—to be the one her guy can’t stop thinking about. That’s when you’ll know.”
“Know what?”
“That he’s forever.”
“Forever, huh?” I shake my head. “I don’t know if I can be that.”
“I think you’ll get there.”
My brow lifts. “I don’t know why you’d think that.”
“Because of what you’ve done for me. And because of what I said a while back…I see a change in you. You may not notice it right off, but you aren’t the same arrogant dick that stepped into Jim Bob’s a few months ago. I think losing Jimmy, seeing your mom go through one of her more intense mental breaks, reconnecting with your family and accepting what you need to be to Jace and to Jimmy’s family…all of that has changed you. I think you want more than you’ve ever wanted in the past.”
“So not only are you a soon-to-be world-renowned artist but you dabble in psychology, too.”
“Oh, whatever.”
She leans into me, placing her head on my shoulder. Being close to her like this…the comfort I have with her, that she has with me, it feels…right.
“So have you stepped inside your childhood home yet?” she asks.
“Nope. Told you I wasn’t doing that.”
“Why buy that place if you have no intention of going in?”
“As a reminder of what I don’t want.”
“I’ll bet it’s more than that.”
“You’d lose that bet, too.”
“Then prove me wrong. Go inside. Face it. Let it wash over you. Let it cleanse you, then you can move on.”
“Ragan, drop it, all right.”
She looks up at me. “It’s what made you who you are, so accept it. That’s what I did. It was hard. I cried a lot but I finally faced it, and in the end I’m better for it. I think you will be, too. Maybe once you finally face the last bit of hurt and pain of your past, you’ll be able to let that girl in.”
“What girl?”
“The one you can’t stop thinking about.”
Her brown eyes linger in mine and I absentmindedly touch a finger to her cheek. I’d pulled her from a broken place and now she’s trying to do the same for me. “I’m not Jimmy. That was his life. That will never be me.”
“It’s like talking to a brick wall. Maybe you’re right. Maybe this is all you want or will ever be. Such a waste.” She exhales a sigh. “I suppose I should get going. I only wanted to drop by and give you the news…and to say thank you…again.”
“I didn’t do anything, but give you a hard time.”
“You did far more than that and you know it.”
“This is for you,” she says and passes me the box she’d been holding.
“And here I am without anything to give to you,” I joke, grinning as I remove the ribbon.
“No,” she says. “Wait and open it later.”
“Er…okay,” I say, looking up from the box.
She exhales a long sigh. “I hate to rush off but Carrie, Patty, and Hayley are taking me out for a going away dinner.”
We get up from the swing and take the walk to her car.
“Remember to call if you need anything,” I say, when I open the door for her.
“I will.”
She looks up at me from under her lashes and I swear I see her eyes water. Before I can say anything she reaches up to hug me, then tugs me toward her and kisses my cheek. “Take care of yourself, Branch.”
“You, too, Ragan.”
I stand in the street long after she’s gone, seeing nothing and wishing I’d kissed her—I mean really kissed her. I exhale a sigh and head back up the walkway, then grab the box from the swing before stepping back into the house.
&nbs
p; I go to the game room and grab a beer from the mini-fridge, plop down in one of the game chairs, then turn on the TV. I pick up Ragan’s box from the table, shuffling it from one hand to the other a few times before my curiosity gets the better of me.
Removing the lid, I find the contents wrapped in white tissue, which I quickly snatch and toss on the floor. I lift the gift from the box and my lips curve into a smile. It’s something she’d drawn and framed. It’s a picture from that night. The night I’d taken something from her. Something I don’t remember.
The image in the frame is a depiction of me on the night of our homecoming. The 2001 Dawson versus Blue Ridge banner is in the background, and I’m standing on the football field with my helmet in one hand and a football in the other.
She’d finally used representational art in one of her paintings. I sit back, shocked that she’d taken my advice. I shake my head, then flip the frame over to pull out the flap and spot a note.
That night was not a mistake. And if it was…it’s the best one I ever made.
Ragan
THE DAY ANGIE PRESCOTT SAID she didn’t know who my father was could’ve been the final blow that crushed me whole. And had it not been for the positive force Branch had become in my life, it very well may have sent me spiraling.
I could have confronted David, and I could have launched a search for a man I’d never find but I didn’t see the point in doing either. It wouldn’t change anything about my past and it would only serve to muddy my present.
That evening after having seen Angie, I walked into my home just as I had the previous nights. When CeeCee was fast asleep, I went to my room and flipped off the lights. Then I lay in bed and traced my life from birth till present day. And that’s when I finally decided I’d had enough of the bad. It was time for the good.
“So you’re finally getting out of here?” Dad asks.
“Yeah. I think it’s time. It’s past time actually. There’s nothing for me here except a lot of shit I want to forget.”
His lips fall into a frown. “You mean me?”
“My life has been hell, and it’s mostly because you allowed it to be, so yeah.”
“I did the best I could.”
I shake my head. “If that was your best, I guess I’d be dead if you hadn’t tried at all.”
“Ragan, I know you will never understand but I did try.”
“No. You didn’t. You gave up.”
“I never should have invited Cassidy into our lives,” he says, the stain of guilt coloring his expression. “But I was trying to make up for what you didn’t have. I was trying to give you a mother.”
“But you let her beat us. You sat by and watched. Every day. How could you do that?”
His shoulders gradually slide into a slump but he quickly recovers. “I guess I figured having a piece of a mother was better than having no mother at all.”
“You figured wrong, Dad. And Noah…you never gave him a second thought when he ran away. That can’t be your idea of trying. All you’ve done is given us three parental figures we’ll have to fight like hell to forget.”
“Well, I did do that part right.”
My brows scrunch. “What are you talking about?”
“I kept Angie out of your life.”
We never said my mother’s name aloud. Ever. “How did you do that?”
“Three years after she left, I received a call from her asking to come home.”
His words catch me off guard. “She came back to Blue Ridge?”
“No. She was in Montgomery, and I didn’t want to risk her coming here, so I went there. She’d tried her best to clean herself up, to make herself look presentable but I saw enough to know she was still using. The only reason she called me is because she’d hit rock bottom again and had no one else to turn to. Her intent was obvious. She wanted me to bail her out, just as I’d done in the past. When she realized I wasn’t buying into her sob story, she chose to barter sexual favors in exchange for money. I was disgusted by it all, so I left her at that seedy motel, hightailed it back here and blocked the entire episode out of my head.”
I stare at him, unable to process my thoughts. With a loss for words, I drop to the chair behind me and my eyes fall to the smudge of dirt on the carpet. Once Dad’s revelation runs its course, I lift my gaze to his. “You don’t think I deserved to know this before now?”
“For what Ragan? To make your life even worse?”
“Maybe seeing her children would have helped.”
“She left two toddlers behind. Do you honestly believe she would’ve thought twice about doing the same to two grade-school kids?”
I know he’s right, but I still should have known. Maybe, just maybe, it would have made a difference.
“She was a mess. It was several degrees worse than it had ever been before,” he replies, justifying his decision. “I didn’t want her anywhere near you or your brother.”
“And Cassidy was so much better?”
“At the time I thought so.”
“Well, you thought wrong! I’m all kinds of fucked up because of you and that woman.”
He closes the distance between us. “Ragan, don’t say that.”
“Why not? It’s true. My entire life has been one cruel-ass joke. I was born a crack baby with a crap load of immune issues, abandoned by my mother, beaten within an inch of my life for most of my childhood and I’m the single mom of a child who has a horrible father. Everything about my life up until now has left me scarred and drowning in all sorts of insecurities I fight every day to keep buried.”
“Ragan, I didn’t—”
“Save it, Dad,” I cut him off and start toward the door. “I may be in touch one of these days.” I turn back, my hand already on the door knob, and take one last look at the man who may or may not be my father. “Then again, maybe I won’t.”
After a tearless farewell to David Prescott, my daughter and I meet Hayley for a celebratory goodbye brunch. She makes repeated offers to drive us to the airport but that will more than likely end with a tearfully snotty send-off that neither of us will easily walk away from. She asks about Branch and I tell her we said our goodbyes a couple of days ago. And although he, too, offered to drive us to the airport, I declined his offer as well.
Other than odd, I don’t have a label for my relationship with Branch but I know I’ll miss whatever it is, and despite our agreement to keep in touch, the chances of me seeing him ever again are next to zero. To be honest, I want to squeeze in those final moments with Branch but spending any more time with him will make the goodbye that much harder.
A few hours later, with only one piece of luggage, my child and I board a first class flight to New York City. Andrés and his assistant Autumn made the move from Georgia pretty much seamless. There was very little packing to do because the plan was to leave the majority of our clothing behind. But as I’d pulled the items from my closet, I couldn’t help but picture the grimy image of my mother and it reminded me of so many others who were in similar situations—homeless and in need of clean clothes. Not that they were of much value, but I donated everything other than a couple days’ worth of clothing to the women and children’s shelter. That left me with only one bag to pack for us. Everything else—new wardrobes, airfare, a loft apartment, childcare, and transportation—had all been arranged.
I’m anxious to get settled in my new place. When Autumn emailed the video tour of it, I couldn’t believe my eyes. It’s an amazing space—already furnished with items that appear too fancy to touch, let alone use or sit on. The kitchen pantries are chock-full of food and our closets are jam-packed with clothes. There’s literally nothing left for me to do except step into our new lives.
It’s all too good to be true—that’s what I keep telling myself. I’m actually still waiting to awaken from the wild and crazy dream because no way can this be my life. Ragan Prescott, courted and wooed by one of the most widely acclaimed art gallery owners. Now here I am, moving to the cultural,
financial, and media capital of the world, and set up like a celebrity. Life has offered me a dream so far beyond my expectations that it doesn’t seem real. Maybe I should pinch myself and wake up before this gets any better. Things like this just don’t happen to people like me.
But somehow it has.
And now to prove to Andrés, Branch, and most importantly to myself, that their belief in me is not misplaced.
“THE TOWN COUNCIL CHAIRMAN CALLED this morning. He said you donated the remaining funds to complete the project.”
“Yeah, I did. He wanted to be the one to tell you the news.”
“Thank you, Branch. It meant a lot to Jimmy. He really wanted these kids to have something special. Something to keep them out of trouble and to fuel their creativity.”
“That’s why I had to see it finished,” I reply, then imagine the look on Jimmy’s face.
“I’ve gotta say, I was surprised by the name. I can’t believe they agreed to that.”
“Money talks. Besides, everyone loved Jimmy. The decision was unanimous.”
“The Perez-McGuire Academic Recreational Center. That has a nice ring to it,” Loretta says. “He wasn’t one for having a light shined his way, but he would have loved being a part of this. And the dedication’s next week?”
“Tuesday at eleven. I’ll be there.”
“So you’re really gonna stick around here?”
“As much as I can in the off-season.”
She waggles her brows. “I’m guessing a certain waitress and her little girl are very excited about that.”
“And that’s where you’d be wrong.”
Loretta’s smile all but disappears. “What have you done? Don’t tell me you’ve pushed her away again with that pompous celebrity playboy act of yours.”
“Not this time,” I say, with a faux grin. “They moved to New York.”
“New York?” she echoes.
“Yeah, they left a couple of days ago.” I pull Ragan’s note from my pocket. “She asked me to give you this.”