Hers to Choose (Cannon Cousins) (23 page)

She couldn’t keep herself
from stooping to inhale the men’s scent that remained on the pillows. Alex.
Dan. Tears burned her eyes.

“
Ahh
!”
The sound tore out of her throat.
Insane.
Absurd.
All the self-criticisms that raced into her
mind did nothing to stop her tears. Her vulnerability, her complicity, her lack
of self-control, her pathetic desire and poor judgment, her wanton
willingness—none of that mattered, whether it was true or not. She missed them,
missed what they could be in her life, each in their own particular way. She
had not dared to dream they would be in her life, had not let herself face the
truth that she kept so carefully hidden from herself.

But she had dreamed. Had
imagined and hoped and even planned.
Been irrationally
greedy.
Maybe she would never be the strong self-contained woman she
wanted to be. Tears continued to slide down her face as she slowly rolled the
four-wheeler up the frozen roadway. It was Thanksgiving, and she had let
herself believe it would include them. She had let herself feel again, a
mistake she saw coming and still didn’t stop. She parked by the kitchen porch
and unloaded before taking the vehicle into the carport. The cat rubbed her
legs, and she invited him inside the warm house, where his purr bounced off the
quiet kitchen walls.

Periodically, the ten thousand dollar
check re-entered Bryn’s brain and shocked her like a bolt of lightning. In the
bright light of the kitchen, she examined it again until the zeros and printed
letters turned into indecipherable cuneiform. She sipped a martini and dug out
part of a joint buried in an old wallet, toasting the check and the snow and
Thanksgiving. Later, tipsy and bouncing off the walls, she heated a microwave
dinner and made a list in scrawling script of all the things she could do with
the money.

The next morning, with
football blaring from the television and the snow already melting off the
ground, she wrote again, this time at the dining table. She had thought when she
began that she would create a nice thank-you letter to Alex, include Dan in her
salutation, and tell them she could not accept such a large amount of money.
But after scribbling over three pages, she started a new list of all the pros
and cons of returning the check. There were far more cons.

The phone rang,
Stephanie.

“Happy Thanksgiving,
BFF,”
Steph
chirped. “Are they still there?”

“No, they left yesterday.
And Happy Thanksgiving to you.
Are you going to your
mom’s?”

“No, Wade’s folks are
having a big
deal,
all his brothers are in town. I’m
sweating out the pies and green bean casserole. Damn it, Bryn, why can’t I make
decent pie crust?”

They laughed through a
quick coaching lesson on pie crust, improving Bryn’s mood. She told
Steph
about the check.

“That’s so high class,
Bryn. I’m glad it turned out well. What’s the plan?”

“I think I should send it
back, but then, I need so many things. I mean, I could easily move back to the
city with this and find a great job. But honestly, after living out here, I don’t
want to ever leave this place, not only because it’s family and I love living
here but because of this—thing, whatever you call it, with Alex and Dan.”

“Oh, shit, Bryn, you’ve
got feelings about them?”

“Yeah, mostly Alex, and I
absolutely hate myself about it, because that’s not what I want, not what he
wants.”

“Sounds
rotten.”

“It is rotten, but I’m
going to get over it. But moving?
Steph
, I have no
idea what I want to do in life but I’m pretty positive it’s not bookkeeping or
living in a city. I need dirt under my feet, chickens laying eggs—all that
stuff feels so right for me. But, if I stay here, there aren’t any jobs, and
even if I use the ten thousand to get by, it’s nowhere near enough to pay off
the mortgage. About eighteen months is all it would buy me.”

“Well, who knows what
might come up in a year and a half, Bryn? You’re smart and creative, so what’s
wrong with buying yourself some time? Stay open to the possibilities.”

“Yeah, but wouldn’t it be
completely irresponsible to spend the ten thousand for living expenses? I need
to invest it in my future, whatever that is.”

“Isn’t it an investment
in your future to give yourself time to figure out what you want?”

“Damn, you’re good,
Steph
. Maybe that’s why I love you so much.”

“Have a happy day, Bryn.”

They said their goodbyes
and she let the phone drop, thinking of the Thanksgiving she’d shared with
Steph
and Wade back when she and Ethan were still together.
All that time she had believed they would live happily ever after, maybe have a
child or two, and life would follow its prescribed pattern. They had worked
hard, saved money for a house, talked about the future as a certainty. She
didn’t have to figure out anything.

Now, even if someone offered
that, she didn’t think she could accept it. Maybe Ethan had done her a big
favor, now that she considered it. The idea of being tied to him and his
over-the-top self-serving arrogance appalled her. What had she been thinking?

Unfortunately, if she
could look back this critically on what she had believed little more than a
year before, how would she look back five years from now on whatever she
decided today? Could she trust herself to make any good choices? How did
anyone? Was it her perception or her analysis that was wildly inadequate?

“Both,” she said out
loud.

Steph
was right. She needed time to get
her head on straight.

When she found out what
Ethan had done, that he had sacrificed everything not only of his life but of hers
as well, she had curled up inside. It had been strangely satisfying to feel
nothing. Now in spite of her best efforts, she had muddled her way into feeling
again, an absolutely unacceptable state of affairs. More evidence of her faulty
judgment, more proof she had to stop herself from any more of the same.

The next day she got an
email from someone wanting to hunt over Christmas break. Much as the additional
money would have eased her a bit further down the road of mind-numbing dilemma
about income, she couldn’t make herself do it. She wrote back that the cabin
had been booked through the end of the season and then took down her website.

She stood where Alex had
stared out the kitchen door at the distant mountains. Hunting trips had been
her last hope of earning income. Sooner or later, ten thousand dollars would
disappear and the only thing left would be to put the place on the market. The
thought filled her with anguish.

An unwelcome image of
Brent Thompson flashed in her mind. At least she didn’t have to do business
with that disgusting man. There were plenty of other real estate agencies, even
if she had to contact someone in Little Rock or St. Louis.

The check sat radiating
heat from the center of the big table where she had tucked it under the edge of
a vase. Part of her still wanted to send it back. Part of her demanded that she
keep it like
Steph
said,
use
it as long as she could in hopes of figuring out what she really wanted. After
all, it had been just over a year since things blew up with Ethan. They had
been together for six. Maybe what she felt for Alex was just rebound.

She threw herself into
cleaning, moving all the living room furniture to mop and wax the old wood
floors. She washed windows, her hands numb in the cold as she leaned on outside
ladders. The old curtains and blinds depressed her, and she spent time online
looking at new window treatments, which only brought her back to the money.
Maybe it was reckless to give one more moment to the idea she would stay at the
old farm. The house needed lots of work, the furniture had seen its best days.

The smart thing would be
to put the farm up for sale then move to the city and set
herself
up in a nice apartment. She’d have enough money to live until the right job
came along. But the more she tried to convince herself to take the check and
start up a new life, she more she knew she could not do it. The thought of
selling the land hurt so much she almost couldn’t breathe.

***

Christmas loomed, and she told her
mom she wouldn’t be coming to Virginia for the holidays. She wanted to wrap
herself in the house and flannel shirts and mugs of hot chocolate while she
stared out the window down toward the cabin and felt sorry for herself. The
check still glared at her from the dining table. She couldn’t bear to look at
it. Alex’s handwriting brought her to tears. She was ridiculous and pathetic.
She gave herself permission to grieve one more
day
,
and then the next day she extended her deadline. Hell, she even missed Dan.

The phone rang and when
she glanced at the caller ID she briefly thought the number looked familiar.
She had been kneading bread dough and got the phone after several rings, so she
didn’t have time to really consider the number before gasping “Hello.”

“Hello, Bryn?”

“Yes?”

“This is Alex.”

“Oh,
hi.”
Blood
drained out of her head. Her sticky hands gripped the phone. She held her
breath.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, fine.” Her brain
had disappeared, leaving in its place a blithering idiot. “And you?”

It sounded like a kind of
chuckle on the other end.
“Fine.”
He paused. 
“Listen, I was wondering if you found the tip we left you. The check hasn’t
cleared.”

“Oh, yes, yes, sorry. I
should have let you know. I couldn’t decide what to do, I mean, I thought I
should send it to you, it’s so much money...”

“No!” His voice came
strongly over the line. “Do not send that back to me, Bryn McClure. That’s your
money. We want you to have it.”

Heat rushed up her face.
In fact, the room had become stifling. She went to the kitchen door and opened
it, gulping in cold air. “I ...well, first of all, thank you, thank you so
much. It’s so
generous,
I don’t even know how to thank
you.”

Now he was laughing. She
was babbling.

“But it’s not just that I
can’t thank you, Alex, it’s...I don’t know what to do about it, I mean, I could
spend it on all my bills, but then I need to figure out some kind of future
financial security...” She stopped herself. “I’m
sorry,
I really don’t need to go into all that with you. I’m sure you’re really busy.
I’m sorry I held up your bank balance that way.”

“Oh for god’s sake, Bryn,
that’s not even why I called. I want to come see you.”

Her hand gripped the ice
cold porch railing to keep herself from fainting. Maybe she didn’t hear him
right.

Her breath sucked in.
“You want… to come here?”

He paused. “Is that a
problem?”

“No, no, that’s
wonderful, when?”

“I wondered what was best
for
you,
I know you’ve probably got family for
Christmas.”

“No! I mean, no, I only
have family in Virginia, I’m not going.” She swallowed painfully. There was not
a drop of spit anywhere in her mouth. “So what works best for you?” Did that
sound at all casual? Did he hear the reality of his impact on her?

“Christmas Eve was what I
had in mind, maybe stay a couple of days. Our offices are closed then. I have
something to discuss.”

“That would be great, I
can’t think of anything better.’

“Okay, great. Go cash
that check, you hear me?”

“Yes, yes I will, sorry
again.”

“See you soon.”

Bread dough had glued her
hand to the phone. She stood for a long time with a finger on the disconnect
button before she tried to pull herself loose. The whole time she forced
herself to breathe normally because otherwise she might hyperventilate and
really pass out.

He wanted to come see
her. Alex! In her house at Christmas! She jumped around the kitchen in little
hops making squealing noises. The cat leapt off the chair and ran to the door,
its eyes dilated.

She washed her hands for
a long time, cleaning off the dough and staring out the window with her mind
somewhere in St. Louis, wherever Alex was. She remembered his mouth, his eyes,
his hands on her body,
his
arms around her. She took
the towel to dry her hands and realized she hadn’t finished kneading the bread
dough.

With a fresh coating of
flour on her hands, she returned to the dough and lost track of time. Finally,
after what might have been five minutes or an hour, she covered it with a towel
and set it by the stove to rise. Then she made herself a martini and sat at the
dining table to start a fresh list.

Deposit check.

Then she chewed on the
pencil and stared out the windows as her mind raced through a thousand ideas.
She could replace the curtains and shades, fix the place up a tiny bit before
he got here. She needed to figure out menus and get the groceries a few days in
advance, in case the roads got bad. What did he want to talk about?
Something else about Dan?
Did he miss her, want to see her?