Unstable (3 page)

But, the need to ever ponder the “what ifs” again is now gone. The possibility of reconciliation is no longer a decision I get to make.

And she’ll never know, that I actually forgave her a long time ago…I just never forgave myself.

It’s a lot easier to throw stones at someone else; deflection is sometimes a vital survival technique.

“Henley?” Merrick’s voice sounds distant, despite the fact that he’s risen and has come to stand beside me, his hand imposing on my shoulder. “Henley, what’s wrong? Talk to me.”

“
What’s wrong
?” I scream, scrambling to my feet and out from under his touch so fast that my chair, indeed as uncomfortable as I suspected, topples over. “What’s wrong?” I repeat, dizzy, nauseous, and completely overwhelmed. “Did you help her draw this up?”

“Yes,” he nods. “Why, is there a problem?”

I laugh, more so a harsh cackle, that sends him back a few steps of his own. “Why? Why would she do this?”

He rights my overturned chair, not that I’m gonna sit in it again, then tugs at his tie to loosen it. “Let’s have a seat on the couch,” he moves to do so, “and discuss exactly what you have concerns about.”

“How much time do you have?” I drench my retort in sarcasm, but follow his lead, because I do, in fact, have a few nagging questions I can’t not ask. I sit on the edge of the couch, as far from him as possible without actually landing on the floor.

“As much as you need.” His smile’s as warm as his voice. He always was a charmer; a very good actor. Face and charisma of an angel, dependability of the devil.

“How much is this little chat costing me?” I sneer.

“Not a dime,” he sighs. “Henley, can you just
try
to pretend I’m not the enemy for five minutes so we can have an adult conversation? You have questions, ask them.”

Oh, the questions I have. All that time, locked in a tiny room with only white, barren walls and a bed— no TV, no paper and pen, no windows…I had plenty of time to mentally compile my list of questions for him. But not on this subject, which is of precedence right now. So that’s what I focus on, rather than unleashing on him even half the anger and pain he caused me so long ago.

“Why did my mother even have a Will? She wasn’t old, or sick…was she?” I taper off in a mumble. I know it wasn’t why she died, but I have no idea if she had health concerns of some sort or not.

“No, she was simply responsible. As your mother’s attorney, and estate planner, I advised it. We’re not talking about a few trinkets here, Henley. Your mother was smart enough to plan ahead, protect her sizeable assets, and you.”

“That’s just it, though.
Why
me?”

“Um,” he rubs a heavy hand along his jaw and studies me as though trying to decipher one of those ink-blot images. “
Because you’re her daughter
? And her only living relative? I guess I don’t understand the question?”

“My mother and I hadn’t spoken in eight years, Merrick. When did she have this Will prepared?” He frowns and tries to scoot closer to me, but I hold up my hand and stop that nonsense. “Just answer me.”

“Several years ago. I, I wasn’t aware the two of you didn’t talk, Henley. She never mentioned it. She
did
mention your life in San Diego, nice condo, how proud she was of you. But nothing about the two of you not speaking. I’m sorry to hear that was the case, because I have no doubt she loved you. Very much.”

“Can I ask why the two of you didn’t talk anymore?” His intrusion is spoken low and hesitantly.

“You were there, Merrick. Why do you think? She sent me away! To a loony bin! Do you know what those places are like?”

“Henley.” This time he moves toward me so fast I can’t stop him, his arms are around me before I even realize it’s happened.

“No!” I push him off me with adrenaline-fueled force. “Don’t touch me, I mean it.”

“Alright,” he holds up his hands in apology and scoots back with an audible sigh.

After a few moments, my heavy breathing settles and he continues.

“She did what she thought was best for you at the time. No one could reach you. We could
see
you,
touch
you,
but you weren’t there
. We were all afraid of what you might do to yourself. And then
you
cut
us
off, put us on that list where you wouldn’t take our calls or visits. And when you turned eighteen and checked yourself out, you didn’t come home. All anyone wanted to do was help you, Henley. You wouldn’t let us.”

“I couldn’t face this town again after everything that happened. Come back here, the crazy murderer of Ashfall? As much fun as that sounds like, I took a pass.” I smile cheekily. “She could’ve shown up at my door, she knew where I was. She didn’t.”

I’m just lashing out now, releasing pent-up rage and projecting blame as far away from myself as I can get it. I can’t possibly blame her; so many unanswered letters and calls, my number changed countless times, I’d probably give up too.
Hell, what am I saying? I did give up.

Truth is, I could’ve picked up the phone or found my way to her door too. I didn’t. Instead, I undoubtedly caused her further pain by, in my own misdirected way, trying to protect her.

If you don’t get too close to the monster, it can’t hurt you.

So I didn’t let her get too close to me, the monster— that way I couldn’t hurt her anymore.

Made sense to me at the time. But now…

“I don’t know what to say to that, Henley. Like I explained, I didn’t know that you two never spoke again. I do understand your hesitance to come home, but no one thought you were crazy. What happened would’ve been hard for anyone. And you’re
not
a murderer. Even
you
know that’s
not true.”

“So she told
you
where I was? That’s what you just said, right? Did you ever once think about coming to look for me?” I long to rip back the words no sooner than they’re spoken, disgusted at myself for the slip-up, airing my agony and anger-fueled curiosity. I shove both hands in my hair and tug, letting out a frustrated growl. “Never mind, don’t answer that.”

“Henley—”

“No, I mean it, forget I asked.” I shake my head and the thoughts away, reaffixing my arctic expression. “So, knowing I didn’t want to come back here, my mother thought it’d be a good idea to leave me a six-hundred-acre farm…
here
? What the hell am I supposed to do with it? I can’t run a farm that big! Even if I could, I don’t want to. And you said something about being her estate planner? What’s that mean, why’d she need that?”

“Henley, it’s a
working
farm. If you
work
it,
right
, you have enough for your monthly payment, savings for floating expenses,
and
a decent profit. You know how all that runs, you
did
grow up there, and you haven’t been gone
that
long. Yes, there’s a bank note, equipment that constantly needs replaced, and she had a bad calving season a couple winters ago, fast-acting pneumonia, but this inheritance is nothing to sneeze at. Your mother handed you a very nice life, if you want it.”

“Merrick!” I pinch the bridge of my nose and let my head drop to my chest, exasperated. “I was a kid. I don’t know all the financial stuff. I wouldn’t think I’d need to point that out, and
again
, I can’t work a farm that big!”

“No one expects you to. You hire help, just like your mother did. And you can sell off some calves, or cows. You could start charging a stud fee on your Angus, that’s a fine bull. Maybe sell or rent part of the land to another farmer, then pay off what you want to keep. There’s several options, Henley, so please, just calm down and take your time to weigh them all.” His mouth turns down in what I’m sure he thinks is sympathy, but smacks me like condescension. “Why don’t we do this? You need to go down to Nelson’s and make the funeral arrangements first, I can go with you. Then, go
home,
Henley. Take a look around, some time to think about it. Whatever you decide, I’ll help you with all that too.”

Again with that charming, concerned disguise of his, but all I heard was the patronization in his voice. I stand, grabbing the papers and head for the door. “I can go to Nelson’s by myself, I’m a big girl now. And whatever I decide, it won’t be to enlist your help. Don’t think I’ve forgotten, Merrick. I
loved
you. I gave you everything, and when Ha—, when I needed you more than ever,” I take a deep breath and force back the hint of a tremor in my voice and the sting behind my eyes, “you had to be at football practice, or a game, or a party that
you just knew
would get my mind off things. And Krista?” I scoff. “I’m glad to see that you at least ended up with her, so cheating on me wasn’t a total loss.”

There—I
finally
said it. No back-handed sarcasm or spiteful tone, just the truth—how he crushed me.

“I was just a kid back then too, Henley. I did the best I could. But I
never
,” his timbre plummets to an intimidating level as he crosses the room in two long strides and presses his hand to the door, holding it closed, “
ever
, cheated on you. After you put me on your ‘not allowed to visit’ list, and then disappeared into the wind, it took months before I’d even go to lunch with Krista.”

“Convenient.” I roll my eyes.

“No, it wasn’t convenient at all. It crushed me, actually. But you tell yourself whatever you want. It’s done, and I’m not gonna fight with you, especially now, but it’s the truth. I know you didn’t mean to, and I was never mad, but You. Left. Me. I never left you. I loved you more than anything in the world. If I could’ve
reached
you, pulled you back from whatever dark place it was you went, hell, even gotten you to answer when I begged you to talk to me, I’d have taken you and run away. Anywhere you wanted. You’d have never gone to that place.” He leans down and presses his lips to my hair, sending a wave of irritation through me. “I loved you too, and would’ve done whatever you needed, anything you asked, but you no longer knew how to love anyone. Least of all yourself. But, I never left,” he whispers, then moves his hand to let me open the door and run from the building, but manages to add before I flee, “
None
of us walked away from you, Henley. We were pushed.”

THE DRIVE TO NELSON’S
was a bit hazy, my mind processing the many years’ worth of information just delivered all in one shot. Luckily though, I made it safely, because no streets or buildings in this town ever change, so my truck pretty much drove itself.

The bells chime out a jingle far too cheery for a funeral home as I walk through the door, and Donna Simms, perhaps the nicest woman in the entire world, appears from around the corner. Her daughter, Emily, was in the rodeo club with us and a good friend. So seeing Donna’s face, even given the circumstances, is a sentimentally welcome sight.

“My sweet little Henley Calvert, get yourself over here for a hug, you pretty thing.” She smiles and holds open her arms, which I accept…run into really. She smells like old lady perfume and cookies. I can’t recall the last time I willingly let someone hug me, but she smells wonderful, and I want to stay right here forever, soaking up the scent, and the comfort of her arms.

“I’m so sorry about your Mama and Jack, honey. If there’s anything I can do, you don’t hesitate in letting me know.” She pulls me back by my shoulders to look in my eyes. “I mean that, anything at all. Being brave doesn’t mean being alone. The good Lord doesn’t give us more than we can handle, he gives us family and friends to carry a handle on our load for us.”

“Yes ma’am. Thank you.” I nod, fighting back any useless tears. “Um, so, what do I need to do?”

“Well, your mom already had her headstone and plot taken care of, so I really just need you to instruct me on any specific details you want. We’ll need you to write an obituary,” she stops, giving me a sympathetic smile, “unless you want us to take care of that for you. And we’ll need a burial outfit, any date or preferences you have for a memorial service, things like that. But one thing at a time, I don’t want you to feel like you have to do all of this at once or get overwhelmed.”