Rekindled (20 page)

“Oh, um…”

“It wouldn’t have to be like an official date or anything,” he quickly interjects. “I just thought it could be fun. The food is usually decent, and there’s dancing and a fake casino. But I understand if you can’t.”

I bite my lip, contemplating my answer. On the one hand, I’m still technically married. Although, what’s the protocol for a situation like this? If Zach never reappears, what then? Not to mention, I have a son to think about. But, Justin did say that it’s not an actual date, and it does sound like fun. Spending the night with Tate and his friends at the bonfire reminded me that just because I am a mother doesn’t mean I have to give up being able to have fun. I’m only twenty-five, and I forgot how enjoyable it is to have a night out every once in a while.

Looking at Justin, who is looking more uncomfortable the longer I don’t say anything, I smile and say, “I’ll have to check with my brother if he can watch my son, and make sure my son is okay with me going out, but sure, I’d love to go with you.”

His lips spread into a smile as he pulls out his phone. “Great. What’s your number? I’ll text you with the details.”

I rattle off my number, and put his in my phone as well, agreeing to let him know once I check with Caleb and Jonah. I’ve just put my phone back into my pocket when I feel a pair of eyes boring into the back of my head. Letting my gaze slowly travel the room, I swallow the lump lodged in my throat when I see Tate staring daggers at us. There’s no reason for him to be upset, though. I’m not doing anything wrong by agreeing to be Justin’s date to the fundraiser. So why is Tate staring at me like that? And why do I feel as if I just made a huge mistake?

“Tate? That you?” Dad flips on the overhead lights to the shop.

Sliding out from beneath the Pontiac Firebird, I wipe my hands on my coveralls, smearing the blue material with oil. After finishing dinner at
Red’s
, Justin wouldn’t shut up about asking Callie to the gala next weekend, constantly asking me for advice on how to please her. He wanted to know what kind of flowers she liked, and if his mustang convertible would be okay to pick her up in. I couldn’t really answer any of these questions anymore. Instead of going back to base with the guys or back to Jules’s empty apartment, I came here, to my dad’s mechanic shop.

“Sorry, I should have called and told you I was coming here,” I say, as my dad sets his bags of groceries down on the concrete.

“Don’t worry about it, I just wanted to make sure it was you in here and not some hoodlum snooping around for spare parts to sell on eBay. Everything okay? You don’t usually come out here during fire season.”

I shrug and pick up a wrench, examining it in my hands. “I guess so. I don’t know.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, it’s fine. It’s nothing, I’m making a big deal out of nothing.”

“Does this have anything to do with Callie?”

Surprised, I turn to face my dad who’s dragged a stepstool from the corner and taken a seat on it. “Why would you assume that?”

He gives me a small smile and adjusts his glasses so that they sit higher on his nose. “I may be old, Tate, but it doesn’t mean I’m blind.”

Scrubbing my hands over my face, I let out a frustrated groan. “Why does everyone keep assuming Callie and I can’t be friends?”

“Relax.” He stands and places a hand on my shoulder. “I didn’t say that. All I’m saying is that ever since you and Julia were together, you haven’t come out to the shop once during fire season. Callie’s back in town for three weeks and now you’re out here at nine at night fixing up cars, something you used to do back when you were a teenager after you and Callie had a fight.”

“I think I’m just frustrated that since Jules left for New York she’s barely had time to talk to me.”

“You don’t think she’s having an affair, do you?”

“No, nothing like that. I trust her. But I’m not convinced that she’s happy here in Idaho, and I worry that her visiting New York will make it worse.”

Dad’s quiet for a minute, and I can see him working through something in his head. His eyes are closed, and it strikes me that he’s showing signs of aging. His tan skin is losing elasticity, and his jowls are drooping. Brown and black liver spots dot his arms and legs, and his head, which once grew full, thick locks of hair, is sparse with greying strands combed into a side-part. His brown eyes are still full of warmth, but the vibrancy behind them is fading, supported by dark bags making him look tired all the time. He’s lost so much in his life, been through so much heartache. I should be the one comforting him, and yet, here he is, checking up on me to make sure
I’m
okay.

“You know,” he finally says opening his eyes to look at me. “Sometimes you have to let the person you love go in order to know if it’s meant to be.”

I don’t know whether he’s talking about Jules or Callie, so I don’t say anything, waiting for him to elaborate.

“That’s what I did with your mother, you know.”

I suck in a sharp breath with the mention of my mom. Since she left us, he hardly ever talks about her. Whether it was for our sake or his, I’m not sure, but I freeze, worried that my dad’s words are like a butterfly that’s landed on my arm, and if I so much as breathe out loud, I’ll scare them off.

“I didn’t want to let her go at first, of course. When she told me that she was leaving to go be with her personal trainer, I did everything I could to stop her. I begged, I argued, I cried. I even threatened. I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that someone I loved so much couldn’t love me back anymore. I made promises to try to change, saying that I would do whatever it took to give her the life she wanted.”

His hands begin to shake, and I take his arm and help lower him onto the stepstool while I find a seat on the floor, holding his hands cupped between mine.

“I still remember the first time I laid eyes on her. I was twenty-two and had just graduated from college, and my buddies and I decided to go out drinking to celebrate. She was with her girlfriends at a bachelorette party, and the moment I saw her, I knew. I knew she was meant to be mine. She was the most beautiful girl in the room. Radiant, even. Back then, girls didn’t wear the risqué clothing they do now, and she had on a pink skirt with a white tank top and a scarf tied to her head. She had dark brown curls that hung halfway down her back, and this cherry-red lipstick that I always hated because it tasted like chalk, but boy, did it make her lips stand out.”

He chuckles and I stare up at him, watching as his eyes glaze over with the memory. I’ve heard this story before, when he and my mom used to tell it together over the dinner table when Rylee was a little girl. They used to hold hands and smile at each other as they recalled their first encounter, and I’d watch completely entranced, wondering if I’d ever find someone to love that like that. To love someone so much that your heart beats specifically for them.

“After a few beers, I thought I was a big-shot and decided to show off my pool playing skills by challenging everyone in the bar. No one could beat me. And then she stepped up, batting her eyelashes at me, asking if I would teach her how to play. I spent ten minutes going over the rules, showing her how to hold a cue stick and how to properly rack up the balls. She leaned over the table, called stripes, and hit three striped balls into the pockets when she broke before cleaning up the rest without even giving me a turn. I knew right then that she was the girl for me.”

“Dad, what happened? Why did she leave?”

“She just wanted more from life.” He sighs and cradles his chin in his hands. “Don’t get me wrong, she loved you and Rylee, but after a while she realized that my lifestyle wasn’t right for her. You know I’m a simple man, I don’t need much to make me happy. I had the shop, the lake, and you and your sister, and that’s all I needed. But your mother, she wanted more. She wanted to travel and have adventures, and I didn’t. The night she left, she told me that she still loved me, but that it just wasn’t enough.”

“I don’t understand. If she still loved you, and you loved her, why didn’t she stick around and try to make it work? Why did she just walk out on you? On us.”

“I don’t know why she stopped reaching out to you and Rylee. I wish I did, but if I had to guess, it was probably because of the guilt. Your mother wasn’t a bad person, but I don’t think she knew how to have a relationship with you after leaving.”

I shake my head refusing to accept that. “How can you still stick up for her after everything she did? She walked out on her marriage and on her children. There is no excuse for that.”

“I’m not saying what she did was right, or excusing her actions. You and Rylee didn’t deserve that. But as far as she and I go, just because you love someone doesn’t mean you’re meant to be together. I loved her more than I loved anything else, aside from you and Rylee of course, and I know she loved me. But we were two very different people who wanted very different things from life. And sometimes, when your differences create a chasm that large, no amount of love in the world can smooth it over. Being in love with someone and being a good fit with someone are two very different things, Tate.”

I can’t stop staring. And God knows I’ve tried. But every time I look away and try to focus on the conversation at the table, I see her water glass stained with that cherry red lipstick she’s wearing and I ultimately drag my gaze back to where she was dancing with Justin. I knew it’d be hard seeing her attend the gala tonight with Justin, but having them sit at our table has made it almost impossible for me to enjoy the event.

Callie was always beautiful, but seeing her tonight in that red dress that hugs every curve on her body, it’s taking every ounce of willpower in me to not drag her into the back alley and rip it off her. I shake the image from my head when I feel someone kick me underneath the table. Sharp pain radiates along my shin as Matt glares at me with his lips pursed like a kid. It takes me a second to realize that Macy must have asked me a question, which of course I didn’t hear because I was too busy glaring daggers at Justin. From the look Matt’s giving me, he knows exactly what I’m looking at, but luckily no one else at the table seems to have caught on.

“I’m sorry, what’d you ask?” I look at Macy, trying to sound sincerely apologetic.

“Oh, just if you and Jules have set a wedding date yet?” Macy answers with a wide grin, looking between me and Jules expectantly.

Jules’ hand lands lightly on my knee and I glance over at her as she’s shaking her head to answer Macy.

“Not yet. We’re waiting for fire season to die down and then we’ll have more time to focus on it.”