Running Away With You (Running #3) (44 page)

But fire can burn.  It can burn so hot and so bright that it blocks out everything else, leaving just pain and regret. 

I wanted to remove anything that would cause pain to Evan, wanting to create for him a world of joy.  Because I love him.  Because loving someone makes you put their needs ahead of your own.  Because the truth is, when the person you love is in pain, your pain is doubled.  And when they are happy, your happiness is tripled. 

I was both selfless and selfish at the same time.  But I now realize that with love and commitment comes partnership.  Struggles are easier to bear when you share them rather than trying to carry them alone.  I just hope it’s not a lesson learned too late.

R
ealizing this could be my last sunrise in the beach house for a long time, I put a leash on Maddy and take her out for a long run along the surf.  I find lots of chances to stop and play, tossing Maddy the occasional piece of driftwood or allowing her to roam freely, sniffing out her own playthings. 

Once the sun breaks free of the horizon, I clip the leash back on and head for home – while I can still call it my home. Maddy can stay here with Evan, at least for now, while I try to figure out my next move.  She’s grown used to this place and she’s made it her home.  It would seem cruel to rip her from it when I know she’ll be loved and well cared for.

After placing the last suitcase in the car, I take a final sweep around the house just to make sure I haven’t left anything lying around.  As I glance around our bedroom, I discover his hamper full of dirty clothes.  I take a few experimental steps closer and I’m rewarded with the unmistakable smell of Evan McGuire.  I grab a jersey and hold it up to my nose, inhaling greedily.  The scent of testosterone and sandalwood soap fill my nostrils. 

It’s just a practice jersey and he must have a dozen of them.  He’ll never miss one, so I stuff it in my bag.  I need this one thing, this one small piece of him.  This might be the last piece of him I get to keep, just to remind myself that he was real.  That what we had was real.

With no excuses left to make, it’s time to leave.  I wait for the tears to come.  I pause as I shut the door and set the alarm, but they do not appear.  I hesitate before pulling out of the driveway, taking a final look at the home I’ve been asked to leave, but they do not show themselves.  Perhaps Evan has taken more from me than I realized.

Before going to work, I stop to purchase a new phone.  I’m able to act like a fully functioning human, despite my emotionless haze.  I make up a lame excuse about having lost my phone, and no one blinks an eye.  I suppose they must hear this a lot.  A helpful associate at the store helps me choose a new phone and download all my settings, which I have consistently backed up into the cloud. 

As I sit in my car syncing my new phone to the car’s Bluetooth, I can’t help but wonder if Evan has been so vigilant with his phone.  No matter where I am, no matter what I’m doing, Evan is in my every thought every minute of the day.

I arrive at work to find Derek alone behind the bar, cleaning and prepping for the day.  I look down at my watch to see if I’m late.  Derek is never here this early.  When he sees me, he stops what he’s doing and pats the bar in front of him. “Mornin’, boss.  Let’s talk.”

As I get closer, I notice dark circles under his eyes.  He looks more than tired – he seems exhausted.  I know I owe him an apology, and despite my weariness I summon up enough strength to offer one.  “Listen, before you say anything, I just want to apologize for everything that happened last night,” I tell him.  “You have no idea how much I wish none of it happened.”

“Well, if you could turn back time and fix this clusterfuck, there are a lot of hurt and angry people right now who would be very grateful.”  Derek reaches under the bar and retrieves a piece of paper.  “Here. Shea asked me to give this to you.”

I glance over a letter written on Daisy Shea letterhead, looking very official and proper.  I can’t make sense of it.  The words hold no meaning.  “I don’t understand, Derek. What am I looking at?”

“It’s her formal withdrawal as your wedding coordinator.  She wrote it right after Evan fired her and cancelled the wedding.” 

I take a deep breath and consider the bomb Derek has just dropped.  My wedding is off and I have to find out about it from Derek.  For some unexplainable reason, I get the giggles.  The song “Isn’t it Ironic” immediately comes to mind, and I start to laugh, deep belly laughs.  The more I think about it, the more ironic it feels.  I have sworn to Evan time and time again that Derek is not a threat to our relationship and that he can never come between us.  Now that Evan has actually put an end to us, it’s Derek who delivers the final blow.  Isn’t it ironic?

Derek watches me until I finally stop laughing.  He must think I’m losing my mind.  I’ve been void of all emotion, and when one finally arises, it’s humor.  Perhaps I
am
losing my mind.

“I’m glad to see you’re taking it so well.”

I pull myself together enough to continue our conversation.  “Not even close,” I tell him without further explanation. 

With much effort and determination, I get my emotions in check.  Derek called last night’s meeting a clusterfuck, and I want to know why.  “What happened after I left last night?” I ask him.  “I thought everyone was going to sit down calmly and discuss things like adults.  It sounds like things took a turn.”

“Oh, you could say that, all right,” he agrees.  Derek grabs two glasses and fills them with ice water and lemon wedges, passing one over to me and taking a big drink from his.  “Shea is freaking out right now.  Mac and Adam were throwing around demands and ultimatums right out of the gates.”

“What kind of demands?” I ask.

“Blood tests.  Genetic testing.  Court orders.  He’s just a baby, Jette.  It’s not his fault.  Shea and her parents are the only family he’s got left, and these two guys show up out of nowhere, threatening to destroy Shea’s family.  She already lost a sister – she can’t handle losing that kid now.”

I think about what Derek is saying and I feel a part of me returning;  the logical, rational side of me that can analyze things from several points of view and perspectives.  It’s much easier to think about my situation when I try to do it through someone else’s eyes.

“Derek, I understand how Shea must be feeling right now, but being fatherless is not something Kai asked for, and if drawing a little blood will make his family bigger, isn’t that a good thing?  Both Evan and Adam have the capacity to become great fathers.”

Derek shakes his head and walks away from me.  “Derek, I’m sorry if I upset you.  I didn’t mean to.  Please don’t be mad at me.”

He turns around and there’s sadness in his eyes now.  “You don’t think I’d be a good father,” he states bluntly.  “Don’t you think Shea and I would make good parents too, Jette?  I wanted to take care of him.  I love that kid with all my heart.  Shea and I just want to protect our family.”

“Derek, that’s not what I meant at all.  Of course, you’d make a wonderful father.  I’ve told you that before.  Kai would be lucky to have you.  Who knows what will happen?  Maybe neither of them is the father.  Then everything can go back to the way it was.”

He shakes his head.  “Shea knows how the test will turn out, Jette.  She’s always had her suspicions.  Somewhere deep down inside, she’s always known.  If they do that DNA test, it’s going to change all our lives.”

“I don’t see how things could possibly get any worse than they are right now,” I tell him in a moment of complete clarity.

“Well then, you’d better hold on to your panties, because I’ve got another one for you,” Derek tells me.  He reaches under the bar again and pulls out another paper, handing it to me.

“What is this, Derek?  Just tell me, please.”

“It’s my resignation,” he tells me.  “You know I don’t need the money, Jette.  And I cannot continue to work for Evan so long as this is hanging over our heads.  How can I look Shea in the face every day while working for the man who’s threatening to destroy her family?”

“Derek, no,” I tell him, my emotions raw and unpredictable.  “Not you too.  Please don’t leave me,” I beg him, struggling to control my breathing.  “You don’t work for Evan, you work for me.  I sign your checks.  You can’t leave me too.  I won’t make it.” I look up at him and plead, “Please don’t go.  I have no one.  I have nothing left.”

“Jette, don’t do this,” he tells me, trying to remain resolute.  “You know I can’t turn my back on you.  I’m right next door, only fifty feet away.  Morning, noon, or night, I’ll be there for you.”

He’s not fifty feet away from me, he’s fifty feet away from Evan.  “I don’t live there anymore,” I tell him between ragged breaths, “remember?”

He comes around the bar and takes a seat beside me.  He places his hands on the seat of my chair and swivels it around so we’re face to face.  He moves the hair that’s hanging in front of my face gingerly behind my ear and waits for me to calm myself.  “I’ll stay, for now.”

I wrap my arms around him and hug him tightly.  He hugs me back and I can actually feel some inner strength being drawn from him.  True friendship does that.  It makes each of you stronger and better for having the other.

The bell on the door chimes as it opens, and in walks Reese, carrying a small grocery store bag.  She walks straight toward the bar and smiles.  “Good morning, Derek.”

He returns the greeting with a friendly, “Good morning, Red.”

I get no such greeting, no pleasant hellos.  She simply grabs me by the arm and drags me into my office.  Once we’re inside, she pronounces without question, “You look like shit.  What the fuck happened last night?”  Reese reaches into her bag and pulls out two pints of Häagen-Dazs; a pint of caramel cone for me and a vanilla swiss almond for her.

In college, whenever one of us was going through a bad break-up or personal crisis, we would indulge in a pint of ice cream and bare our souls to each other.  She’s seen me cry over David, panic during finals and practicals, and stress about money.  But this is different, and there’s no amount of ice cream that will make any of it feel better.

I push the ice cream away, unable to even look at food right now.

“I know about the pictures, honey.  Emmy told me everything.”  I smile and a small laugh slips out.  She doesn’t know everything.  She has no idea that she’s the star of one of his little productions, and I pray to God she never finds out.

“Reese,” I tell her, “you don’t know shit.  This stink is so deep and so nasty, it would take a team of professionals a month to clean up the mess.”  I bluntly add, “And by the way, David is probably dead.  The police think Evan and I had something to do with it.”

“When?  How?  Are you sure?” she asks, stunned.

I tell her the basics and slowly try to fill in the blanks as best I can. 

“But you couldn’t.  You didn’t.  There’s no way,” she stutters. 

I shake my head.

“You don’t think ... Evan?  I know he probably wanted to, but he would never.  Would he?” she stammers.

We just sit there and look at each other.  Neither of us says it aloud, but the doubt is there.  Suppose he did?

Reese wants to know more about Kai, and so I tell her about that too.  “I was going to tell Evan, I swear.  But I wanted to do it after I knew more and after the season was over.  If I had only told him right away, if I’d told him everything from the very beginning, none of this would be happening right now.”  I take a big, cleansing breath and wait for her to condemn me and my choices.

“How were you able to get up and out of bed this morning?” she asks.  “You amaze me.  You are the strongest person I know, Jette.”

“It’s easy to get up in the morning when you never go to bed,” I tell her.  “I’m not so strong.”

“You haven’t cried yet, have you?” she asks.

I shake my head.  “I can’t.”

“Honey, you can’t keep this all bottled up inside.  Eventually it’s going to catch up to you.  Something will set you off:  a sight, a sound, a smell, who knows?  And when that dam breaks, I promise you, it’s going to be a flood of emotions.”

She’s right.  I know they’re there, just below the surface, pushing to break free.  But I’m afraid of what will happen if I allow them to surface.  “I don’t even know who I am anymore,” I tell her.  I have no home, no fiancée, and no reason to get up in the morning. 

“I know exactly who you are,” she tells me.  “You are generous, smart, forgiving, and without a doubt the strongest person I know.  You’re my best friend, and if anyone can make it through this ordeal, it’s you, Juliette Evangeline Fletcher.  I’d bet my last dollar on it.”

“I hope you’re right,” I tell her.

“I usually am,” she reminds me.  “So Dickhead might be dead,” she reflects.

“Remember all the times I said I wanted him to drop dead?  And now all I want is for him to be found alive and well so he can tell someone what happened to him.”

“And Evan might be a baby daddy.”

“Or Adam.  If Shea has her way, we’ll never know.”

“Is she going to get her way, Jette?”

I call up the powers of my Magic Eight Ball and answer with complete confidence, “My sources say no.”