He shrieked with delight, giggling, his laughter throaty and irresistible.
But he quickly became too heavy for me to hold. When I had to plop him back down, he immediately lifted his pudgy arms, demanding, “A den! A den!” His way of saying “again.”
“A den, Lie-Lie!”
Lie-Lie, his way of saying Lila.
What I wouldn’t give to hear him call me that again, to hold him one more time, feel his heaviness in my arms instead of in my heart.
My arms fell weak at the memory.
Harvey said something, but I didn’t hear it.
I didn’t care.
I couldn’t get enough oxygen. My desire to escape the crushing sorrow and the confined space of the car was so strong that when the tires ground to a halt at a stop sign, in a location I recognized, my voice came out raspy. “I-I’m sorry”—I grasped the door handle—“I just can’t deal with this right now.”
I swung my door open.
“Hey!” Harvey’s face flashed alarm. “No, don’t—” He reached for me as my hand fumbled for my purse, spilling my phone. I pulled away.
My phone dropped from the car to the road, and I fled for the shadows.
Chapter 18
I thought I heard Harvey yell my name, but my buzzing ears couldn’t be trusted. I was fairly certain I heard a horn honk and tires screech.
Ready to double over with grief, I pressed myself against the darkness of a tree trunk, wishing I could meld with its solid sturdiness. Instead, I slid to a sitting position, wilting into the shadow, my sorrow consuming me.
Matt, my brother.
Gone.
Mags, gone.
My mother, my father, all gone.
Nothing and no one could replace them. No friendship. No relationship.
Tears rolled and dripped. Harvey’s cold reference to my brother had been horrible. Unforgivable.
A car crept by. Was it him? Was Harvey looking for me? If so, I didn’t care.
My family filled my mind, my heart, my soul.
I had room for nothing more.
Apart from my silent, shuddery sobs, I stayed still, hugging my skirt tight against my legs, turning invisible in this dark, sleeping world, yearning to vanish into the comfort of isolation.
My cocoon.
~
My legs fell asleep beneath me, but my mind refused to shut down and let me rest.
At last, I stood. Rigid and alert, I listened for an engine and watched for headlights. When I detected a vehicle approaching, I froze in the shadows. After long minutes of silence, I peeked out and verified the road was clear before weaving my way through neighborhood streets and following sidewalks.
I was surprised by the number of windows with no curtains drawn and TVs still flickering. Were the people asleep? Didn’t they care that strangers could peer into their homes?
I found myself wondering about the families inside. Were they functional and happy, or messed up and miserable? A blend of something in between?
Did they know what loss was? And if so, how did they survive it?
I didn’t want to be noticed by anyone. I wondered how invisible the shadows made me in my pale dress. Clouds obscured the stars, the night sky pressed down on me, but I counted the darkness as my ally.
Hot as the day had been, a cool breeze hit me, and I shivered.
I knew my way home from here, but the walk would be long. In the car, my desperation had skewed logic, and the distance hadn’t seemed far. My feet were already sore, and these shoes weren’t made for hiking. I slipped one off and tried to snap off the heel, but it wouldn’t budge. Cheap shoes shouldn’t be so well made.
I turned back and retraced my steps to where I’d jumped out of Harvey’s car.
With any luck, I’d find my phone and call a ride.
At the edge of the intersection, I paused, easily spotting broken pieces of my phone. Great. So much for that.
I kicked off my shoes, left them where they fell, and began walking in stocking feet. My pantyhose were destined for the garbage. But at least my bare soles were tough.
Who’d have guessed my habit of walking barefoot would prepare me for this?
The residential street ran out into a stretch of overgrown lots bordered by metal fences. I crossed a railroad track and found myself missing the presence of the homes. A parking lot gave way to a strip of factories before the street curved around a bend. Part of the sidewalk had been dug up and taped off. Dirt and gravel lay scattered near a small pit.
I stepped through the grass, trying to avoid stones, and peered down the hill. About two miles to go. My calf muscles ached.
Before long, I gave up on the shadows and found myself gravitating to more illuminated spots. I looked up and down the streets, almost searching for Harvey’s car, almost to the point where I wanted to see it, because thinking about who else might be out at this hour chilled me.
Would anyone hear me if I screamed? I walked along a barely lit vacant parking lot near an empty strip mall. My arms and legs prickled. Had I simply traded one bad situation for another?
A worse one?
My shoulder blades tightened and tingled as I caught the sound of an approaching engine.
Keep driving, keep driving, my mind chanted. Or did I pray it?
Good idea. God was the only one out here I could trust. Lord, please keep me safe.
The engine puttered on the road to my left, and I increased my pace, my back stiff, head high, desperately acting as if being out for a shoeless stroll at this hour was normal. My blisters smarted and my heels throbbed, but my shaky knees and pounding heart worried me the most.
Keep driving, keep driving.
The vehicle pulled closer and idled beside me, throwing a kink in my breathing.
“Lila?”
The man knew my name. And while the voice didn’t belong to Harvey, it was familiar.
I turned. “Jay?” Relief flooded me, the intensity of it astounding me.
He frowned, his face a complex range of unreadable expressions. “What in the world are you doing out here?”
I glanced up at the sky, spotted one star. Or was it an airplane? “Nice night for a walk, don’t you think?” I considered a shrug but didn’t have the energy. What must he think of me, such a “nice” girl, wandering the streets at this hour?
He left his car with an angry slam of the door. A moment later, he put his hand on my arm and looked me in the eye. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”
I nodded, suddenly overcome with a desire to cry. But I sucked it back in and stilled my face muscles. “Just tired.”
“Come on, I’m taking you home.” His arm slipped securely around me, and until that moment, I didn’t realize the full extent of how unsafe I’d felt.
“How did this happen?” In the dome light of Jay’s car, I noticed his jaw set tight as I buckled my seat belt.
I sighed, not up for explaining my situation but figuring I owed it to him.
How did this happen, indeed? A beautiful day had spiraled out of control and crashed into a million devastating pieces. “The guy I was with—he was driving me home and we got into a . . . disagreement.”
“A fight? And he kicked you out? What a—”
“No, he didn’t. I got out. It was my choice.” I rubbed my temples. “Not a very smart one, I realize that now.”
“He shouldn’t have left you.”
“I’m sure he didn’t want to. He probably came back looking for me, but I—I don’t think he could see me. I wasn’t trying to be found.”
“You were scared of him.”
I caught the edge of my lip between my teeth. “No, I overreacted.”
Jay’s face darkened. “You trusted your gut. That’s not overreacting.”
I leaned back against the headrest. “I really appreciate your help, but please, can we go? I’d like to get home.” And go to bed and sleep for a week.
“Of course.” He shifted the car into drive, and I gave him directio
ns.
I wanted my mind to stop questioning everything, but it continued churning. “I can’t believe you found me.” I turned to Jay. “Didn’t you leave the reception a while ago?”
“Not that long ago. I live out of town, so I reserved a hotel. But there was some kind of mix-up. The place claimed they didn’t have my reservation, and they were all booked up. So I figured I’d just head for home and stop somewhere if I got tired.”
We turned onto a rural road and approached my street. Almost there. I fought a yawn.
Jay cleared his throat. “You won’t be going out with that guy again, will you?”
I followed the arc of the headlights as they swept up my driveway. “Highly doubtful.”
Jay slanted a disapproving look my way.
“I mean, no, I’m not planning on it.” My words still sounded too open-ended. Plans could change.
“Any guy who’d treat you like that doesn’t deserve a second chance.” Jay parked the car with a slight jolt.
His words and tone unsettled me. I knew he meant well, but . . . “He’s not a bad guy, really. And you don’t know him, so—”
“I know enough. You were walking home alone in the dark at one in the morning. Enough said.”
I unbuckled my seat belt and clasped my purse. “Thanks for the ride.”
“You bet.” He jumped out. “I’ll walk you up.”
At my door, as I drew out my key, he said, “I’m sorry you didn’t have a better night, but you at least enjoyed some of it, right?” His fingers brushed my shoulder and his voice lowered. “The parts you spent with me, maybe?”
The hint of hope in his voice made me turn. The look in his eyes confused me, held me—as did his hand on my back. His face was near, and leaning nearer.
I set my hand against his chest and pressed gently as I stepped back. “I’m sorry, I . . .” Was I misreading this situation, or was he trying to kiss me? I turned and inserted my key, bending my head over it more than necessary. “I’m just really tired . . .”
“Of course. Sorry for keeping you. Please, go on.” He motioned at the door, indicating I should go in.
My hand paused on the knob, which I’d already unlocked, and now I wondered if I should have. Was I jumping to wild conclusions again? I had a sudden feeling that if I opened the door, Jay might follow me in. He didn’t seem in any hurry to leave.
He just wants to see me in safely, that’s all.
His smile lingered, patient and pleasant. “Relax, I know you’re not going to invite me in. I know you’re not that kind of girl. I like that about you. But tell me, Lila, truthfully, without overthinking or second-guessing—did you enjoy your time with me tonight?”
I swallowed, the second-guessing beginning. I nodded, feeling vulnerable.
“Good, because I enjoyed my time with you. Very much. We seem pretty right for each other, don’t you think?”
“We hardly know each other.” I turned my doorknob slowly, blocking the action with my body while keeping my attention on Jay.
“Relax,” he repeated, “I’m not trying to freak you out, but that’s where you’re heading—if you’re not already there—isn’t it? Just let me ask you something. Do you know what the J stands for?”
“What? What do you mean?” But I didn’t really want to know. I opened my door just enough for me to dart inside. I swung it closed, but not all the way—his arm and shoulder stopped it.
“Whoa, called it.” He smiled. “Seriously, please don’t be afraid. I’m not a stranger. You know me.”
I pushed my weight against the door, accomplishing nothing but increasing my heart rate. “A few dances and moments of conversation hardly count as knowing someone—”
“Obviously. That’s the problem you had with the other guy. Hey, calm down. It’s okay, really. Just hear me out. That’s all I’m asking—just give me one second.”
He held up his finger. “You know how I introduced myself as Jay? That isn’t a name, it’s a letter. It stands for my name.”
As if I cared.
“Jess. My name’s Jess, as in your computer-friend Jess.”
He stuck his hand through the gap in my door, as if offering it to me to shake.
I blinked.
“I have to say,” he went on, “it’s sure nice to finally meet you in person.”
Chapter 19
Jess?” I gasped. Homeschool-forum Jess?
“The one and only.” His amusement shone clear as he eyed me through the gap in the door.
The pathways to my brain closed. “But you’re—you’re a guy.” At some point in my stunned state, my muscles weakened, and Jess pushed the door open and stepped inside.
Confusion replaced my fright. “Jess is a girl.”
“Nope, definitely not.” He took my arm and led me to my couch, where he sat down beside me.
“But you told me—”
“I didn’t. That was just an assumption you made when we first started chatting.”
That couldn’t be right. I searched my memory. “You lied to me.”
“I didn’t. You jumped to conclusions. I just didn’t correct your mistake.”
“That’s still a lie—a lie by omission.”
“I didn’t correct you because I liked talking to you. You made it clear that you never chatted with guys. I didn’t want you to block me.”
Jess took my hand. “Look at me. I’m still just me, your friend.”
I tried. I searched his face, his eyes, but I still felt like I was looking at a stranger.
“You can trust me. We’ve known each other for years. You know how long I’ve wanted to meet you. If I could have done this any other way, I would have. But I got tired of waiting, so when things finally lined up and I got this chance, I grabbed it.”
His thumb traced my knuckles. “I know you don’t like surprises, but I think it all worked out, so it’s okay.” He waited. “Say it’s okay?”
I shook my head, blood roaring through my veins. I pulled my hand away. “It isn’t. Do you have any idea how . . . betrayed I feel right now?”
He sighed and rubbed his dark hair, messing it. “I do. That’s just it, I do. But this time, I’m here in person to talk you down. I’m not limited by typing on a keyboard. This is better.”
“You’re not hearing me. I can’t—I can’t suddenly be okay with the fact that you hid who you really are all this time.”
“So I’ll give you time.” He frowned and put his palms on his knees, staring down at them. “But try to keep this in perspective. It’s one small detail, that’s all.”
“It’s a big detail. Monumental.”
“One small detail,” he repeated. “Everything else was true.”
Really? What if he was just someone who lurked on the site, one of those creeps my parents had warned me about? “Were you ever even really a homeschooler?”
“Of course I was.”
My lips pinched briefly. “Did your parents really die, or did you make that up just to have something else in common with me?”
“No way, I’d never do something like that. I told you—everything else was true.” He touched my hand again. “Just give it some time to sink in. Sleep on it. You’re exhausted. It’ll make more sense tomorrow. You won’t be mad at me tomorrow.”
I slid away into the corner of the couch, my mind still racing. “How did you find me?” I was always so careful. “How did you end up at the wedding? Did you really know the groom?” Please say yes.
“No, of course not. Don’t hold that against me. Actually”—he spoke in a conspiratorial tone out of the corner of his mouth—“I was doing the guy a favor. Did you see the turnout on his side of the church? He needed all the help he could get.”
I gave an exasperated sigh but was struck by how Jess-like that comment sounded.
He stretched his legs and rested his shiny black shoes on my coffee table. “Don’t forget, you did invite me.”
“What?” My mind scrambled, then realized what he mean
t. “I said after the wedding.”
He spread his hands. “It’s after the wedding. I was just a little early, that’s all.”
“How’d you find me?” I asked again.
“You sent me that picture of you and Harvey at the park.”
The photo flashed through my mind, and I saw my mistake. “We were standing near the sign.”
He nodded. “I zoomed in and read it. Did a search, and bingo—found the name of your town. From there, locating the time and location of a wedding, for a Sarah, on the date you told me, was easy. So easy you might have seen me coming if you weren’t so distracted by that other guy.”
He knew so much about me and Harvey, and the realization hit me like a fresh invasion of privacy. I was gripped by an urge to bury my head under a couch cushion. Only I hadn’t vacuumed under them in months. Maybe even a year.
Then I realized I wasn’t the one who should be ashamed. I aimed a hard gaze at Jess. “That’s creepy and stalkerish. After you did all that, did you really think I’d be happy to see you?”
Jess plucked a fuzz off the leg of his black pants. “No, I knew we’d have to talk through some stuff first, which is why I didn’t drop this on you at the wedding. Plus I wanted you to get a chance to enjoy my company without knowing who I was. So you’d see you really do like me. Even though I’m a guy.” He turned his expressive eyes on me. “And I know you’ll forgive me. You’ve got a heart of gold.”
“Please.” Disgust coated my voice. “I’m naive, you mean.”
“No.” His voice was firm, but kind. “Don’t listen to people who call you that. They’re really just jealous of your goodness and innocence. They don’t appreciate the real you if they’re trying to change you. I like you just the way you—”
I held up my hands. “Stop. Just stop. This is too much, and it’s too late. I can’t do this tonight. I need you to go, please.”
“Lila, do you realize what I did for you today? I was here when you needed me, every time. Harvey treated you like dirt. One of the reasons I had to come find you was him. I’ve had a bad feeling about him from the start.”
The Butterfly Recluse Page 12