What She Wanted (27 page)

“Your mom loved elephants. I would have done anything for her, anything to save her. I tried to give my blood, my marrow, anything, but the hospital wouldn’t take it. There was no saving her.” A tear scooted over his bottom lid and made a lazy trail into his stubble. “I would have taken her place a thousand times, endured anything to reduce her pain by a fraction. She was my soul mate, and I will never stop loving or missing her. Not ever.”

I recognized the raw pain tearing through his words like a barely scabbed wound torn open. I’d seen this every day of my life.

“I’m glad you loved her. For what it’s worth, I’m not mad anymore, not like I was, and I don’t think you’re a villain. You shouldn’t think that either. Everything was really complicated. I don’t want to judge your decisions. It doesn’t matter how I would’ve done things. The past can’t be changed, but my future can. I’ll always have a mother-shaped hole in my life, but I’m done being a victim. I’m done pretending the past will go away if I ignore it, or change if I obsess long enough. You left, and that sucked. Mom died, and that sucked. Mark as a grandpa? Sucked. But my life could’ve been worse, and I’m choosing a different kind of future.”

He blinked. “You deserve a great future, Katy, but I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I was selfish in ways that ruined lives. I won’t forgive myself, and you shouldn’t forgive me either.”

“Well, I do, so that’s just how it is.” With those words, a weight I’d carried all my life lifted from my lungs and I breathed. “Would you do something for me?”

“Anything.”

I swallowed hard. I knew it was asking too much, and I was fully taking advantage of a hurting man, but there were too many of those in my life these days, and I had the power to help them both if they’d let me. “Talk to Mark.”

He swore and looked away. “Yes, ma’am.”

I walked into the living room with my heart in my hands and Josh on the front porch. “Mark?”

“You finally back?” His voice carried from the kitchen, where he made a racket of putting dishes away. “I cook. I serve. I clean it up and put it away.”

I forced my thoughts into focus. There was no point in mentioning the fact I’d played cook, maid, and doormat to him for a lifetime. That was over.

I reviewed my mental pep talk and headed for the kitchen. Scents of lemon and bleach cut the air. I struck a pose against the doorjamb and hoped to seem casual instead of terrified. “We need to talk.”

He stopped cleaning to stare. Lines raced across his forehead, gathering between his bushy salt-and-pepper brows and changing his expression from merely disgruntled to downright agitated. “So talk.” He swung a striped dish towel over one shoulder and crossed his arms. “Did you call Joshua like I told you?”

“Yes. I called Joshua because I wanted to, not because you ordered me to. Also, you have to stop grouching around for five minutes. You don’t get to do that right now.” Rage bloomed on my tongue, lifting my voice by a decibel. “You had forever to be upset.” Emotion cracked my words. “Now, I’m upset and you’re going to help me get through it.”

He widened his stance and leaned his rear against the sink. “What do you want?”

Fear and anxiety greased my insides. Mark owed me this, but stupidly, I didn’t want him to be mad at me. Despite everything, I wanted his approval. “I mean it, Mark.” I pleaded, working to convince myself more than him. After all, if he went back to ignoring me, I still had to live with myself. “I stayed while you recovered. I saved you a ton of money in home health care expenses, and I’m moving out as soon as possible so you can cut back on your hours and take better care of yourself.” Ambushing a man with a bad heart was low by any standard. Was that who I was? “I need you to do something for me. Please try to remember I’ve never asked you for anything before.” The minute I could babysit for cash, I’d even started purchasing my own school supplies, makeup, and clothes.

I’d never considered asking for stuff that should’ve been free, like love or acceptance. “I want you to sit down and listen for five minutes. If, after five minutes, you want to leave, I won’t complain.”

He pulled up a stool at the island and deflated onto it. “Five minutes and you’ll do the cleaning until you move out.”

I rolled my eyes.

“I don’t know what you want from me. I’ve said everything I have to say.”

“I didn’t ask you to tell my anything. I want you to listen. You agreed.”

He lifted a hand between us. “Fine. So talk.”

I went back through the living room and opened the front door for Josh, who looked less like a former soldier and more like kid at the principal’s office.

Josh whisked his hat off and stuffed it, brim first, into the back pocket of his jeans.

I led the way to the kitchen.

“What are you doing?” Mark asked. “Are you staying or going?”

“Staying.” I took the seat beside Mark and prepared to restrain him if necessary. “Remember, you promised to listen.”

Josh walked into the kitchen and the oxygen thinned. “Mr. Reese.”

I clamped a hand on Mark’s shoulder. “Five minutes.”

He stiffened under my touch. He looked pointedly at his watch, then at me. His jaw ticked, and I imagined him plotting ways to punish me for the ambush.

“Mr. Reese.” Josh squared his shoulders. “Nice to see you, sir.”

Silence.

I rolled my wrist, encouraging Josh to keep going before Mark reneged on his promise. If he stayed, he’d likely keep a stopwatch on the five minutes.

“I want to say, officially, that I’m sorry I ran when Katy needed me, when you needed me.”

“I never needed you.” Mark was on his feet faster than I could anchor him in place. His stool slid across the linoleum and collided with the wall. “I. Never. Needed you.”

“I did.” My voice startled the room, myself included. “I needed him and he bailed. He left me as much as he left you, maybe more, but he’s here now and I’d rather work it out than push him away to prove some stupid point. So, we’re talking. You got it?” Nerves sloshed in my throat to the point of nausea. I’d never spoken like that to anyone, definitely not an adult. Never Mark. I swallowed bile and begged my body not to vomit or collapse.

Mark slumped onto his seat. “I’ve got nothing to say.”

Resolve formed on Josh’s face. He nodded once, stiffly, in my direction. This was what we’d hoped for. His chance to tell Mark what he’d told me. Even if Mark chose to keep hating him, at least his side of the story would be out. His head would be clear. It was up to Mark how he wanted to respond. That wasn’t on Josh. “I was a kid, Mr. Reese. I was stupid, selfish, and scared. I won’t forgive myself for what I’ve done, but Katy’s trying to forgive me and I forgive you.”

“Me?” Mark released a line of swears like I’d never heard. “You left me to raise your daughter. You knocked mine up and she’s gone!”

“Hey!” Josh snapped. All pretense of formality gone. “I loved Amy. I didn’t knock her up. Don’t make her sound like some kind of trash. We were in love and we made a baby. It happens. Did we plan it? No. Were we ready? Hell no, but I don’t regret it and neither did Amy. She would, however, kick your ass if she knew how you’ve behaved all these years.”

Shame marred Mark’s face. He dared a peek at me before jerking his face back to Josh. “You left!”

“And I’ve regretted it every day. I hate myself.” He slammed a palm against his chest, strong eyes glistening. “I can’t get past it. I don’t want to.” His voice was thick and low.

I slipped off my stool and stepped toward Josh. “What? Why?”

Emotion screwed his face into a tight grimace. “Forgiving myself would be like saying what I did was okay. It won’t ever be okay, so I won’t move past it. I owe you that.”

I flopped back onto the stool and flattened my forehead to the island. “We are all so messed up. None of this is okay.”

Mark angled silently away.

Josh pulled up a stool opposite him. “You know what I mean, don’t you? I see it on your face. You choose misery because being happy for one minute would be like saying you’re over her loss and that won’t ever be true.”

I leaned on the island for a look at Mark’s turned face.

His lip quivered and he pressed his fingertips against them. “She was seventeen,” he whispered.

“I know,” Josh whispered back.

Mark stifled a whimper behind his hands. “She was so sick.”

“I know.”

“It wasn’t fair.”

The air crackled around us, raising gooseflesh on my arms.

“No, sir.”

Mark twisted in his chair, forcing his tear-glossed eyes on Josh.

“I owe you my life for what you’ve done for our daughter. You cared and provided for her when I wasn’t man enough to face her.”

Mark made a tragic sound behind his white fingers.

Something told me there would be more than one conversation between these men and me, and some things would never be okay, figured out, or completely forgiven. I was okay with that, as long as we didn’t go back to the silence.

The five minutes was up, and Mark made no move to flee or kick Josh out. Another good sign for my future. “How about I put on some coffee?”

* * * *

Mark and Josh were still talking, loudly, an hour later when Dean’s truck crunched into the drive. I sighed in relief as he whistled his way up the walk.

The whistling stopped abruptly. “What’s wrong?”

“That’s ridiculous!” Mark’s heated voice rocked the shutters, and I flinched.

Dean’s eyes blazed. “Is he talking to you?” He planted his foot on the step beside me, ready to defend me from my bully.

“You’re ridiculous!” Josh barked. “Can you think about anything other than yourself for five minutes?”

“I am thinking about someone else! I’m always thinking about someone else! I died seventeen years ago alongside her. Don’t you get that? No.” He dragged the word out several syllables. “How could you? You’ve been traveling the world and drunk off your ass. Making more babies!”

“Amy died, Mark. Amy. Not you. Not me.” Josh’s voice softened with obvious restraint. “Not Katy.”

Tears fell over my cheeks, and I grabbed them with my fingertips. I tangled wet fingers into my hair and pulled east and west. “When I texted to say I wanted to see you, did I mention it was because my dad and grandpa have been on the verge of killing one another for sixty-three minutes?”

He dropped into the space beside me. He wound a protective arm over my shoulders and craned his neck to look inside the house behind us. “You owe me about a million texts. Is this why you haven’t answered any of my messages? I thought you were trying to break up with me.”

“That’s ridiculous.” I leaned my weight into the muscular angle of his side and wished I could hide out there until the storm blew over. “Care if I borrow some strength from you? I can’t do this on my own anymore. I’m crying every other minute, sometimes without warning, and I want to throw up.”

Dean pressed a kiss into my head and tapped his phone to life. “You aren’t alone. The way I understand it, you haven’t been alone since second grade.”

My phone buzzed. “What did you do?”

A string of letters and exclamation points lit my screen.

Dean set his phone aside. “I told Heidi your dad was at your house fighting with Mark.”

I laughed. “Well, she’s at least halfway to her car right now.”

He pushed me back and tipped his forehead to mine. “You aren’t alone. Got it? So, stop dealing with the complicated stuff as if you are.”

I inhaled Dean’s familiar scents. The distinct cologne and shampoo combo had come to signify so many things to me. Trust. Comfort. Friendship. Safety. “Thanks.” Heat pooled in my center and bloomed through my heart. I didn’t want him to go back to college without me. I wanted to keep him. “Is it horrible that my life is in turmoil, and I don’t want it to change?”

“I wish I didn’t have to leave.”

“Me too. How about we make a plan to meet here every summer?”

“Deal.”

I checked the incoming texts from Heidi. “I think she’s sending messages from every stop sign on her way. They’re all gibberish.”

“I only understand about half of what she says when she’s here in person.”

I elbowed him and turned the phone around, ready to push it back into my pocket. The little envelope at the top of my screen caught my eye. I hadn’t checked my e-mail all day and I had complete applications out to my top three schools.

The front door slammed open and Josh thundered out. “This isn’t finished.” He shut the door more carefully and jumped back when Mark appeared inside the threshold. “You’re wrong about me, and I’m done hiding from your big mouth and your bad attitude. This is my daughter and I owe her. You can get onboard or get out of my way.”

“Like you got out of my way for eighteen years?” Mark seethed.

“Yes. Exactly like that.” Josh stopped short of tripping over Dean and me. “Sorry.”

Dean jumped up. “I’m Dean Wells.”

“Joshua Lowe. Nice to meet you. I saw you for a minute at the parade.”

My ears rang.

Mark warbled a list of complaints about the men on his porch.

My lungs constricted, and a tear hit my phone screen. “I got in.”

Heidi honked her way up the street and drove two wheels onto the sidewalk.

I reread the e-mail. “I’m in.” Thanks to shining letters of recommendations from acclaimed photo journalist Sylvia Reynolds, esteemed professor Roger Montgomery and his elite gallery-owning wife, Anna, “New York Film Academy would like to extend a warm welcome to you for the fall semester. Please see the attachments below for details on housing and meal plan options.”

Heidi collided with me on the porch, knocking me onto my elbows. “You got in! Yougotinyougotinyougotin!”

A slow round of applause began somewhere beyond Heidi’s hot pink shirt. She levered off me and hooted into the air.

The world slowed.

My mind splintered. Wasn’t it only a few minutes ago that I’d wanted to live in the moment with Dean forever? Safely on my front porch in the sun?

But now. “I got into NYFA.” A new world of possibilities opened in my mind, things I’d only dreamed of but were never possible until now. My pulse beat erratically in my head. I’d never been farther away than Caldwell. “I won’t know where anything is in New York. I’ve never been in a cab. I can’t afford a cab. I’ll have to ride the subway or the bus. I don’t know how to do that.” I swallowed and gasped for breath. “What if I get lost? What if I flunk out?”