A Girl by Any Other Name (72 page)

up the scattered contents that lay on the pavement. “Leave me alone. I just need to find my keys.”

“I’m driving you home.”

“I can drive myself. I don’t need anything from you, Caleb.”

“This isn’t debatable.”

“I can’t leave my car here.”

“I’ll drive you in your car and walk back.”

She stopped blindly groping around the cement. “Are you staying the night?” There was a plea in

her eyes that was so needy I had to look away.

“No.”

“Then like I said, leave me the fuck alone.”

“Molls, stop this.”

“I just need to find my keys.”

I sighed, reaching into my pockets. I pulled out her keys, twirling the key ring around my finger.

She tried to grab them from me, but I closed my fist around them. “Either I’m driving you, calling you

a cab or waiting here while one of your other sober friends comes to get you. Your choice.”

I stood up and helped her off the ground. She didn’t answer the question, but walked around to

the passenger side. I opened the door for her. “Buckle up,” I said. She didn’t move so I leaned in and

pulled her seatbelt over. I was thankful she didn’t take advantage of our situation. This was such a

bad idea, but I wasn’t sure what the right thing to do was either.

The ride to her apartment was quiet. I helped her up the stairs and unlocked the door for her. I

got aspirin and water ready while she changed. I helped her into bed. “Take these right now,” I said,

handing her the aspirin. I held the water glass for her. “It looks like Carrie is home, so I’m going to

leave.” Carrie was Molly’s roommate and although it was more of an economical arrangement

between them, and they weren’t friends, I knew Carrie would be there if Molly needed her.

Before I stood from the edge of the bed, she grasped my arm. “You know why this sucks so much

for me?”

“No, but I assume you’re going to tell me.”

“When you were in love with a ghost I could say there was no way I could compete with that so

it was okay. It wasn’t me. It was this built-up figment in your imagination of someone. I could deal

with that in a way. But now you tell me you just met a girl and you’re in love, so as it turns out, it

fucking absolutely was me.”

“It wasn’t, Molly. You’re great. You’re going to meet someone who can love you like you

deserve.”

“What does she have that I don’t have?”

Part of me wondered if I should divulge to Molly that Sylvie and Sophie were one and the same,

but in the end, I knew it would do nothing to appease her anger, and only lead to more questions. I

swallowed hard, preparing for my answer, not wanting to hurt her anymore tonight. “I plead the

Fifth.”

“So you can’t even give me a straight answer like I deserve.”

“I can, but why? Anything I say will only make me sound like a complete asshole, and it will do

nothing to satisfy your curiosity.”

She was quiet for a minute, contemplating my statement. “I suppose you’re right.”

“I’m going to go, Molls. I left an empty trash bin by your bed in case you need to throw up.”

I got up to leave and as I neared her bedroom door, her voice halted me once more. “She’s a

very lucky girl. You are a good man.”

I turned to her in the dark, embarrassed by her compliment. “Thank you, Molls. Sleep well.

We’ll talk later.”

I walked the two miles back to the bar. I considered taking a cab, but I wanted a chance to

decompress and think. All my thoughts centered around Sylvie, though. This would be the first night

we’d spent apart since she’d come back into my life. I couldn’t sleep without her. I needed to see her.

I was on autopilot as soon as I got into my car, heading straight for her place.

Chapter Eighteen

I knocked on the door, several times, but there was no answer. Sylvie might be asleep since it

was late, but I wanted to tell her about tonight. It would weigh on my conscience until I did. I knocked

more vigorously, feeling a little miffed I didn’t have a key. We had talked about exchanging keys, but

we hadn’t done it, and since we were usually together, it hadn’t seemed important. There was still no

answer, which was strange since Sylvie wasn’t a heavy sleeper. I doubted she would be out at this

time, but I called her cell phone. I heard Mumford & Sons’
I Will Wait
coming through the closed

door. It was her ringtone for me, and usually made me smile, but tonight the lyrics seemed foreboding.

I tried the door, calling her name, but, of course, it was locked.

I suddenly wished I hadn’t reinforced it so much since it would make it difficult to kick it in. I

moved as far away as I could in the narrow hallway to get the required momentum. That was when I

noticed her doormat was askew. I kicked it out of the way. The feelings of repentance were replaced

with rage. There against the beige carpet lay a glinting gold object, shining with no shame, mocking

me. A key. She had a fucking key under her doormat. How could she be this stupid?

I used it, telling myself to calm down. If she was home, the front door chain would be attached

and alarm set so I still would have to break down the door. To my dismay, neither safety device was

activated. Only the main lock was connected. My eyes shifted wildly across the room, but it was

somewhat ridiculous since you could see her whole space from the front door. That was except for

the bathroom. The thin line of brilliant gold emanated from the bottom of the door. I made my way

there with hasty, heavy footsteps, crashed into it as I turned the knob. “Sylvie?” I screamed as an

object smacked me in the head.

I rubbed my head and stared at the girl in front of me, mouth gaping open and eyes wide with

shock. “Did you just attack me with a hairdryer?”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know it was you. What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you.”

“Let me look at it.” She stood on her tippy toes, gently feeling for what I assumed was a bump. I

pushed her hands away.

“I’m fine.”

“What’s wrong?”

I stared at her, unable to hide my incredulous expression at her lack of concern for her own

safety. “Aren’t you going to ask me how I got in?”

“How did you get in?”

“With this,” I said, pulling out the key. “What the hell is wrong with you? You leave your front

door key under the fucking doormat?”

“I forgot it was there. I’ve been locked out before, and I put it there a long time ago.”

A shrill, cynical laugh escaped my lips. “Your admission does nothing to make me feel better.

You didn’t set the alarm, the chain or the deadbolt either.”

“I just took the garbage down to the bin. I was planning on doing all that before I went to bed.”

“Jesus, girl, are you really this stupid? You need to set them when you’re in the fucking house.

That’s what they are there for. And do not take the garbage out at night.” I slammed my fist onto the

bathroom vanity, unable to contain my temper. Didn’t she know what it would do to me if something

happened to her? She winced in response, backing away from me.

“Cal, if something’s going to get you, a locked door won’t keep it away.”

I shook my head, unable to contain my sarcastic chuckle. “You said that when we were kids, and

I thought it was dumb then, but now it’s completely idiotic.”

She squared her shoulders, placing her hands on her hips. “I’ve taken care of myself for the past

ten years just fine, you know!”

“No, I wouldn’t know, would I?” I said quietly.

Her lower lip began to quiver. My anger evaporated, replaced with self-loathing. “I think you

should leave,” she said in a choked voice.

I walked over to her, taking her in my arms. She fought against me, but I gripped her tightly. “I’m

sorry. I shouldn’t have said that to you. I was just so worried. Please don’t be mad at me. You know I

hate it when you’re mad.”

She pushed me away from her again. This time I let her. “Then stop being such an asshole. Do

you think it wasn’t hard for me? That I didn’t think about you every single day? I wondered where you

were, what you were doing, how your leg was feeling.” She was full-on crying now. She leaned

against the wall, and slid down to the floor. She wrapped her arms around her knees, hiding her tears

from me. I sat next to her, putting my arm around her shoulder, rubbing it gently. She buried her face

in my chest. We sat in silence for a while, except for her muffled cries.

“I know it was hard on you. Harder, in fact, because you had lost your father and I know how

much you loved him. I just wish I could have helped you through that. I’m so sorry, baby.”

She cried for what seemed like an eternity. I held her tightly, wishing to God I had held my anger

in check. I just wanted to keep her safe, and all I had done was hurt her. When she was spent of tears,

she whispered so softly I had to strain to hear her. “My father was killed that night, but I think his soul

died with my mother. I mourned his loss a long time before he died.”

“I’ve never approved of the way he treated you, but I was always amazed at your capacity to

love him regardless of it.”

She pulled her head up. I took her face in my hands, wiping her tears with my thumbs. “I never

told you this, but your father knew who I was. He knew my family’s history and that we were in

hiding.”

I sucked in a deep breath, shaking my head. “He would have told me.”

“He couldn’t. They always inform the local law, at least a high official. That’s the reason we

moved next door to you. It was fate that we were neighbors.”

“Why didn’t he do something about your dad?” I asked. For the first time in my life, I was

disappointed in my own father.

“He did, Cal. He knew my dad was an alcoholic who ignored me. He set up a meeting with him

when I was twelve. He told my father he wanted to contact the US Marshal’s office about getting me

moved to another home.”

“Why would he ask your dad? Why didn’t he just do it?”

“Our situation was unique and he couldn’t exactly call Child Protective Services. But that’s the

funny thing, you’d think my dad would be outraged. Or at least feel ashamed that another man was

asking him to give up his child.”

“What was his response?” I had a feeling I already knew the answer.

“He agreed. It was like he’d asked my dad to donate some of his old clothes to charity. No big

deal. I would have ended up in a different city with some long-distance relative I didn’t know, or,

worse, in foster care. He’d never see me again, and that was fine with him. I decided it was fine by

me too. I even looked up places where I might live.”

“I’m sorry, baby. You have such a good heart, despite what you’ve been through or maybe it’s

because of it. I’m not sure, but being loved by you is not something I will ever take for granted.”

“I feel the same way about you.” She twisted a strand of her hair around her fingers. “Tex, I

loved my father, but I also started to resent him that day.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy you didn’t leave Prairie Marsh, but why didn’t you?”

“I begged your father not to go to our case worker. I told him my father ignored me, but I could

take care of myself. I asked him not to take away the only family I had.”

“So he just agreed?”

“It took some convincing, but he did eventually. He checked up on me a lot. You didn’t know

that, did you?”

I shook my head. The idea that my father knew all of Sylvie’s secrets brought me some comfort.

“So you stayed because you wanted to be with your father?”

She shifted, sitting on my lap, burying her face against my neck. “When I asked your dad not to

take away the only family I had, like you, he thought I was talking about my father, but I wasn’t. I was

referring to you and Mandy and your mother. I was thinking of the boy who told me I was pretty. The

one who taught me to fish, and sat with me outside of church. The boy who prayed for me and held me

at night. The one who slept on my floor when I was twelve and asked me not to move.”

“God, I didn’t think I could love you anymore. You stayed for me?”

“I stayed for me, because I knew without your friendship I could never be strong.”

I kissed her head.

“I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

“I know. I’ll be more careful. I promise.”

I tilted her face so I could look into it. I wiped all the tears away. “Thank you, Sophie.”

She arched her eyebrow. “You’re calling me Sophie now?”

I nodded, deciding in that moment that I was making too many mistakes, as she’d implied I

would. “I decided it doesn’t matter. A girl by any other name still smells as sweet, and, baby, you

sure do smell good.” I kissed her temple, inhaling her vanilla scent.

Her smile instantly relieved the tension in my body. “Paraphrasing Shakespeare, huh?”

“Yeah, a really smart girl quoted Shakespeare to me when I was ten, and I’ve never forgotten.” I

went to kiss her, but she backed away.

“Speaking of smells, do you want to tell me why you have another woman’s scent on you?”

Fuck.

“I can explain that. Hell, that makes me sound guilty as sin. I don’t want you to get any angrier at