Rekindled (11 page)

Realizing I need to get out of here before I do something stupid like throw myself at him and confess how much I miss him, I look up at the cashier and stutter, “I-I’m sorry for all this, but I need to go. I’ll have to come back another time for these.”

Shoving the cash into my purse without even bothering to put it in my wallet, I squeeze through the slim opening and bolt for the door. I can hear her yelling something about saving the items, but I don’t bother to turn around. Bursting through the automatic doors, my lungs feel like they’re on fire as I finally take in a breath. I make my way to the car and try not to think about what just happened, reminding myself that this is just a bump in the road, and that next time I’ll have to be more vigilant about checking the prices of items before heading to the register. A little embarrassment is a small price to pay for being able to stand on my own.

Sliding into the driver’s seat, I shove the key into the ignition and let the engine idle while I flip through the radio stations until I find my old favorite station playing eighties rock music. I put the car in reverse and slowly back out of my parking space. It isn’t until I reach the stoplight to exit the parking lot that I feel like I’m being watched. Glancing into my rearview mirror, my eyes land on Tate who’s standing right outside the grocery store entrance with his arms folded across his chest and a puzzled gaze directed at my car. He stands unmoving, watching me as I make a left turn out of the lot, and it isn’t until I get down the block that I let myself burst into tears.

I know I shouldn’t have gotten involved. I should have just let her walk off and come back another time to get her groceries, but there was something in the way her shoulders slumped in defeat each time she had to put something back that I knew something was up. This wasn’t just her forgetting her money. This seemed almost as if she didn’t even
have
money. But that didn’t make sense considering her parents were beyond wealthy, and Zach’s family was just as well off.

I did notice the thin pale strip of skin that wound around her left ring finger, where her wedding ring
should
be, and I wonder if that’s why she’s back here. There’s so many things I want to ask her about the past seven years of her life, but it’s none of my business. I made sure of that when she left town and I ignored every call, letter and email she sent. I know it was a shit thing to do, but I didn’t know how to be
just
her friend. As long as she was in my life, I’d always want more. When she told me she was marrying Zach, I knew he would be able to offer her things I never could. He would be able to give her the life she always wanted, the life she deserved.

It’s obvious now that something happened, leaving her in a position where she can’t even pay for her groceries. I should have been there for her, but I’ve been so stuck on being hurt by her that it never occurred to me that she could be hurting worse. I’m not going to make that mistake again. I want to make it up to her. If she’ll let me. Not that I deserve her friendship after everything. But I have to at least try.

I pull up in front of her house and see her car parked in the driveway. I grab the grocery bags from the bed of my truck and slide them onto my wrists, feeling uncertain about how she’s going to react to this.

Surprise skitters across her features when she opens the door and sees me standing here. Her eyes are red and puffy from crying, and she quickly uses the pads of her fingertips to swipe at her cheeks, erasing any tears that lingered. Her cheeks are flushed and I can tell from the way she refuses to look at me that she’s embarrassed, although I don’t know whether it’s because I caught her crying or because she didn’t have money in the store to pay for her things. Maybe it’s both. I’m the last person she should be embarrassed in front of, but I’m kind of glad she is, if I’m being honest, because that means she still cares about my opinion of her. That gives me hope that she’ll give me a chance to be her friend again.

“What are you doing here, Tate?” Her fingers brace the edge of the doorjamb.

I raise my arms showing her the bags of groceries dangling from them. “I have your stuff.”

A half snort, half scoff escapes her lips. “What’s your angle?”

“No angle. Can I come in?”

I move to step forward, but am stopped when her hand shoots out and blocks the entryway. “You could barely stand being in the same room as me on my first night here, and now suddenly you’re bringing me groceries? I feel like I’m dealing with Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde here.”

“Look, about the other night, I know I didn’t handle that very well. I was so surprised to see you, I guess, and I didn’t know how to deal with it.” I glance over my shoulder and see one of her neighbors staring at us with curiosity. “Can I please come in and just talk to you for a minute?”

She hesitates, but eventually steps to the side and gestures for me to enter. The house looks exactly like I remember it, with the same high-end furniture and barren walls. No photos in frames anywhere, and the only sign that this house has been lived in are the shoes by the front door and faint water rings left on the tables from where cold drinks once sat.

Callie and I spent most of our time at my dad’s house because she said it felt more like a
home
instead of just a
house
, but some of my fondest memories are of us here, in this house. When we were ten, her parents left for two days and so Rylee and I stayed here. Callie’s nanny, Charlene, made us macaroni and cheese with cut up hot dogs for dinner and bought us three different kinds of ice cream with all the toppings to make huge sundaes. We ate them while we watched
Ghostbusters
, before we camped out in her backyard in a large tent, falling asleep beneath the stars
.

I step past Callie, entering the kitchen, but halt when I see her son sitting at the breakfast bar with his little feet swinging back and forth as he concentrates on the video game he’s holding in his hand. He looks up when he realizes someone’s in the room.

“Mom?” He looks past me toward Callie who is a few steps behind me.

“Hi sweetheart.” She sweeps by me and folds her arms around her son, placing a kiss on the top of his head. My heart squeezes from the image.

He points a finger at me. “Who’s that?”

“That,” she says looking at me nervously, “is Tate. He’s an old friend of mine.”

I smile down at him. “Hi, bud.”

He looks me up and down as if assessing if I’m worthy to be friends with his mom, and while I know I have a long way to go before I’ll deserve her friendship, I’m grateful that her son doesn’t share the same opinion.

“Do you like video games?” With a toothy grin he holds out his gaming console to me. “You can try mine if you want.”

Taking it, I look down at the screen where I see he’s playing Mario Brothers and I smile. “Thanks. I love this game. Do you want to take turns playing?”

He nods and I move around the kitchen island so that I’m standing next to him, bent down so that we both can see the screen as my fingers deftly move over the buttons.

“Wait, you missed one,” he says, tapping the screen with his little finger. “Hit this one.”

I do as he says and laugh when my character grows. I don’t think I’ve played a Mario Brothers game since I was ten. I’m just finishing up the level when I feel his hands on my arm.

“I like your tattoos.” His little hands run up my arm. “My Uncle Caleb has some, too, but his are smaller.” I grin at him. I’ve only been around this kid for less than five minutes, and I already adore him. He reminds me of Rylee when she was that age. “What’s this one?”

“That, is a koi fish. Do you know what those are?”

He nods as his finger traces along the fish. “I got to feed these kind of fish a restaurant once. They were swimming outside and my dad gave me a quarter to buy fish food. It was so cool.”

I smile at him. “That sounds like it’d be pretty awesome.”

“Wow, I love this one,” he says, tapping on the large skull eating a rose that’s colored in on my bicep. “What’s this say?” He scrunches his nose as he tries to pronounce the Latin phrase etched along the rim of the rose petals, the one I got right after Callie left.

Clearing my throat, I look up at Callie who’s watching us with an unreadable expression. “In Perpetuum Et Unum Diem. Forever and a day.”

“I don’t get it,” Jonah says with a frown.

Callie swallows and steps forward placing a hand on his shoulder. “Jonah, why don’t you go out back and help Caleb in the shed. I need to talk to Tate.”

“Okay. Bye Tate,” he says hopping off his barstool and giving me a small wave.

“Bye, Jonah,” I reply.

Once he’s left the room, Callie moves to the groceries and begins to unpack them. Grabbing a bag of coffee that I brought her, she opens a cabinet and pulls out two mugs. “Would you like some coffee? Or we have orange juice, iced tea and beer if you’d prefer one of those.”

“No thanks, I’m okay.”

She sets about placing a filter in the coffee maker and pulls out a French vanilla creamer from the refrigerator and places it next to her mug which has the words
World’s Greatest Mom
above a photo of her and Jonah which appears to be recent. It’s strange seeing her here, in this house, after all this time of not knowing what she’s been up to. She looks up and catches me staring at her, and quickly focuses her attention back on her coffee. I hate how awkward everything feels. I hate that I caused this rift between us.

She coughs and clears her throat. “I didn’t need you to buy my groceries, by the way. I was going to go back after my shift today.”

“I know, but I just thought this might be easier, that way you don’t have to go back.”

“Look, I appreciate the gesture, but if I’m being honest I don’t really know what you expect from me. I don’t know if this is just some white-knight complex where you feel the need to rescue me, but I don’t need rescuing. I’m not some damsel in distress who can’t take care of herself. I’m handling things.”

“I never said you weren’t.”

“It was implied by you bringing me groceries.”

“I thought I was being nice.” I offer a small smile to which she doesn’t react.

“You spent the past seven years ignoring me, making sure I had no part of your life and now suddenly you decide that you want to be
nice?
Why?”

She pins me with a glare and I notice how beautiful she is even when she’s angry. She’s wearing a large grey t-shirt that hangs off one shoulder and a pair of black shorts that cuts off mid-thigh that makes her legs look endless even though she can’t be more than five foot three. Her long auburn hair hangs over her shoulders in loose waves brushing the top of her breasts, but it’s her eyes that remind me why I’m here. Because when I look into them, I see pain.

“Callie, you’re right. I owe you an apology.” I speak slowly, waiting to see her reaction.

Her head is bent and her back is to me as she pours creamer into her coffee, but I know she heard me because her body goes rigid with my words. When she doesn’t respond or make a move, I continue.

“That night when you told me you were moving to California, I had spent the entire day looking at photo albums. Trying to understand how life can be so cruel. My mom walking out on us, and then Rylee being taken at such a young age...and so when you said you were choosing Zach, something inside me just snapped. I didn’t know how to deal with having my heart broken in so many pieces at once.”