Wish Upon a Star (9 page)

I leaned on the counter, my chin in my hands while I
revisited those troubled days. I thought of my conversation with my
boss when I told him I wouldn't be returning to the team. I recalled
my beers with Paul and Dave to fill them in on my decision. Digging
through my past like this was excruciating. It made a century ride
with all one hundred miles through the Shenandoah Mountains feel
like a stroll to the mailbox.

"I was scared. I was afraid something might happen to Mom
and if I was halfway across the country, by the time I got back, it'd be
too late. I couldn't go through that again."

Annie nodded. "Again. Like what happened with your
father?"

"Yeah, I mean by the time Mom called me about Dad, he was
already gone. There was nothing I could do."

"Do you think you could have done something?"

"Hell, Annie, I don't know. Maybe if I'd been here, things
would've been different. Maybe someone could've gotten to him in
time."

"You feel responsible for his death." Again, another
statement.

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Seriously?" I glared at her, but she held my gaze, her lips
curled up ever so slightly. Her dark chocolate eyes compelled me to
mine even deeper. I licked my lips. "I don't know. I just do. It's like if
I'd been here, I could have done something. But instead, I was
halfway across the country being no help to Dad, or Mom for that
matter. They'd both given me so much, and when it was on the line,
I'd let them down."

"So let me make sure I've got this right. Your father had a
stroke, and you blame yourself for the fact that he didn't survive it
because you were away from home and you couldn't be at his side
when it happened. Even though being on the road was part of the
requirements of your job."

When she put it that way, it made all of my angst and regret
sound silly. But thinking about it still made it feel like Satan was
squeezing my heart with barbed wire.

"Let me ask you this. Were your parents proud of you? Of
what you did?"

I drained the last of my beer and rose to get another one.
"Mom was. Dad, well at first he thought it was a dead-end job. But
when he saw the contacts I was making in the industry with folks at
Park Tools and Specialized and places like that, he'd begun to warm
up to it."

"And he understood that the time you spent on the road was
what was opening those doors for you."

"Yeah."

"So your parents were proud of what you did. They
understood that spending a lot of time on the road was one of the
requirements of your career. As tragic as it had to be to lose your
father, given the circumstances, how were you responsible?"

"I never said I was responsible. Dammit, Annie, it was just
totally senseless. And why are we talking about all of this anyway. I
thought we were supposed to be talking about Mom's car."

"We are honey." She went to the stereo and put on some
Billie Holliday. When the music started, she took me in her arms.
"Will you let me tell you what I think? I think you feel terribly guilty
about not being able to prevent your father's death. It was that guilt
that led to your decision to stay home with your mom. Kind of like
saying I made a mistake once and I'm not doing it again."

When Annie paused, I ran my fingers through my hair. "I
have a feeling there's more."

"It seems to me that staying home with your Mother, while
extremely noble, didn't help you deal with your lingering guilt over
your Father's death. In fact, I'd bet that having to watch her slip away
like she did, only intensified the guilt because even though you were
close by, you were still powerless to do anything to prevent losing
her."

"That's a lot to take in. But I still don't understand what
that's got to do with the car."

"Your father bought that car for your mother, yes? She drove
it until she wasn't able to, and then you chose to keep it. Correct me
if I'm wrong, but it seems to me that car was one of your last
connections to your parents. Keeping that car has been your way of
saying I'm sorry I couldn't take care of you better Mom and Dad, so
I'll take care of your vehicle."

My legs got shaky, so I dropped into my recliner. Annie got
down on her knees in front of me and took my hands.

"Oh honey, don't you see? You've been carrying all of that
guilt on your back for years now and the car's been your badge of
honor. But your dad's passing wasn't your fault. Your mom's passing
wasn't, either. I'm so, so sorry I didn't ask for your permission to
trade the car in, but that car is just a thing. Keeping that car wouldn't
have brought them back.

"How long did it take you to accept Evan's death, months?
And these were your parents. I know it's hard. I know you miss them,
but you have to let that guilt go. You have to let them go."

My eyes bored into Annie's. She believed she was helping
me. Was she right? Had keeping the car been a way to keep some
metaphysical line tethered from me to them? And what did Evan
have to do with this?

"What's Evan—"

She shook my hands up and down. "Listen to me, please.
You've told me countless times how guilty you felt about not being
able to see Evan before he passed. As if being in New York City with
me made you responsible for his death."

"Of course I felt guilty. I mean, we went to college together.
We raced together. We were business partners, for God's sake. He
was my friend...and then he was gone."

"I think it wasn't until we made the trip to the summit of
Mont Ventoux that you even began to come to terms with his
death."

"It was his favorite Tour de France climb. He deserved that
little ceremony."

Annie climbed onto my lap. "It was very touching. And you
deserved it too. You felt better afterward, yes?"

She stroked the hair out of my eyes as I nodded. "Your
problem is you have trouble letting go. Don't get me wrong, it can be
an admirable quality. You're tenacious as a pit bull when it comes to
things, and people, you care about. The way you chased me halfway
across the country, I should know."

I gazed at her and she responded by crinkling her nose and
crossing her eyes. I let out a laugh. "I chased you? Who hunted down
who like a criminal in Vegas?"

"Oh no, you didn't—"

The kiss I planted on her lips kept her from finishing her
thought. I ran my tongue over her teeth as she dug her nails into my
neck. It took a few heavy breaths to cool down after she released
me.

"You probably don't want to hear this, but it'd been nice to
have the chance to say goodbye to the car."

"Would that help you let it go?"

"A little, yeah."

"I believe I can help you with that." Annie slipped off my lap
and grabbed her phone. "It's the least I can do. Come on. You're
driving."

A half an hour later, I was in the parking lot of the BMW
dealership. Annie sauntered out of the building with a set of keys in
her hand. "My sales gal said she could stick around for another
couple of hours. Will that give you enough time?"

My lips curled upward. I wasn't going to waste this
opportunity with a quick trip down the street and back. "Yep, and I
know where we're going. You ever had a genuine, Indiana pork
tenderloin sandwich?"

On our trip to Edward's Drive-In, I transported Annie back
in time with stories of me and the car from my younger years. After
wrecking Mom's old car, it had taken me six months to get up the
guts to ask to use the new one. The only reason Mom said yes was
because I'd wanted to take a girl out on a date.

"I'll never forget what she said when she handed me the
keys. She shook her head and said, 'I can't very well have my son
take a girl out on his bicycle, now can I?'"

Annie got into the spirit of the moment when we pulled into
Edward's parking lot by insisting we order curb service. When the
waitress brought out our orders of tenderloin sandwiches and onion
rings, Annie's eyes grew wide.

"There's no way I can eat that. I'm trying to eat healthy."
After folding the tenderloin in half so it would fit under the bun, she
took a bite. "Mm, that's good. Maybe I
can
eat it. Lord knows I
burned enough calories dealing with you today."

I swallowed an onion ring. "Was I really that bad?"

"I'm not going to lie. You hurt me."

"I didn't mean—"

She put her hands up. "I know that now. I also know I hurt
you. And for that, I'm truly sorry."

"I know you didn't mean to hurt me, either. I don't know if
I'll ever find the words to thank you properly. That was one whale of
a surprise. I can never repay you."

She put her sandwich in the paper tray and started fingering
the Claddagh ring I'd given her. "You already have."

She elbowed me while she wiped a bit of tomato from her
chin. "Enough of this mushy stuff, McCarty. Tell me another
story."

We spent the rest of dinner laughing over the story of when
some college buddies and I borrowed the car while Mom had been
out of town. We took it to Madison, Wisconsin, to watch our beloved
football Hoosiers play the University of Wisconsin. Of course, one
thing led to another and a Wisconsin flag somehow ended up in the
trunk, where I completely forgot about it. It was an awkward phone
call with Mom a few days later when I had to admit that the flag in
her trunk had been stolen when we'd taken the car without asking
her.

"Mom was pissed, but Dad loved it. When I came home a few
weeks later, Dad had put the flag up in our rec room in the basement.
God, he loved telling his friends that story."

On the way back to the dealership, we made a detour and
pulled up in front of a large, two-story, brick house. The property
was full of oaks and maples that were just starting to bud.

After gazing at the house for a full three minutes, Annie
turned to me. "This is where you grew up, yes?"

A lump had formed in my throat, which made it tough to
talk. "You should see it in the summer, when the flowers are
blooming. Mom loved spending time in her planter boxes and the
people who bought it have done a good job keeping that up."

Annie grinned and turned back toward the house. "Then
you'll just have to bring me back this summer."

I put the car in gear and drove us the rest of the way to the
dealership, lost in my own thoughts. Was Annie right? Did I have a
problem with letting go? I'd always couched my behavior as keeping
the memories of the loved ones I'd lost—Dad, Mom, Evan—alive. I'd
treated those memories like a badge of honor. Were they actually
anchors dragging me down and holding me back? I didn't know.

What I did know was that Annie loved me, and she wouldn't
have put herself through what we'd been through if she didn't care
deeply for me. I had to trust her on this one. Hadn't I asked her to
trust me once or twice? Oh yeah.

Annie gave me a few minutes to say goodbye to Mom's car
before we headed home in my new wheels. The whole drive, she
went on and on about the bells and whistles my new BMW had.

I was just glad I'd been able to figure out how to turn on the
headlights.

After we got back to the condo, I had a beer and Annie had
some fruit juice while we unwound. When the news was over, I
turned off the TV and took Annie's hand.

"Thanks. I promise I'll work on the letting go thing."

"Today's been a good first step. I know this was hard and I
thank you for your willingness to work with me on it."

I chuckled. "You know, you were pretty impressive, leading
me right down the path. Almost like you knew what you were
doing."

"Well, Good Lord, E.J., think about it. I work in the
entertainment industry where everyone's either been in or is going
through therapy." She winked at me and got to her feet. "Now come
on, I'm in need of the kind of therapy only you can provide."

Unsure of what to do once we were under the covers, I
simply stroked Annie's arm and looked into her eyes. A few flecks of
gold glittered in the moon light coming through the window. She
placed her hand on my hip and I shuddered.

"Are you sure about this? I mean, I don't want to..."

"I'm not made of glass, silly." She kissed me on the nose and
drew herself next to me. Her soft skin felt like fire on mine. "You
won't hurt me. If I remember correctly, I'm the one who
propositioned you, after all."

She brought her lips to mine. They tasted like apples. When
she ran her tongue across my collarbone, I melted into
nothingness.

Having her own car turned out to be the best therapy in the
world for Annie. With clear roads and a set of wheels she was proud
of, she started spending more and more time out and about and less
time brooding on the couch.

I was handling some of her fan email the day before chemo
round four when she and Miranda came through the door. Annie
held a bottle of sparkling grape juice.

"E.J., do you have any idea how lucky you are to be engaged
to this woman?"

"Let's see, there's the new car and the job as Cassandra's
assistant, so I guess I could do worse."

Annie stuck her tongue out at me. "If you're going to be that
way, you don't get to see the wedding dress I picked out, and Randi
and I will keep the bubbly to ourselves."

I'd known Annie and Miranda had been on a shopping
excursion, but picking out a wedding dress was news to me. To be
honest, I'd been so focused on getting through each day, I hadn't
given the wedding any thought. Her wedding dress was something I
wanted to see, though.

"If it helps me redeem myself, I've responded to fifty-seven
fan emails today. And I have an update from Samantha on the tour
DVD."

Annie took two champagne flutes from the cabinet. "Is that
it?"

"And I got caught up on the laundry."

She reached for a third glass. "In that case, you have totally
redeemed yourself."