What She Wanted Page 10

  He set the present aside and stood. “I didn’t either when I was your age, but my dad did. He and my mom spent most of their time arguing about it. We moved to Woodsfield for a new start my sophomore year. It didn’t work.”

  “I don’t care.” I forced the bite in my words. My heart wasn’t feeling it. I wanted to cry and sleep for years, not face my alcoholic father and hear how screwed up his family was. I had my own problems. I didn’t need any more of his. “Thanks for the tip. I have jacked-up genes. I won’t drink. I’ve got to go.”

  “Wait.” He grabbed my hand and released it as if I’d burnt him. “Sorry. Don’t go yet.”

  “Are you drunk now?” I made a crazy face. “I have a ton of awful shit going down right now. I can’t do this with you. You’ve had all these years, and you’ve still managed to pick the absolute worst time to come back and want something from me. You know what? Whatever it is. Take it.” I made arm gestures from my chest to his. “Take it. You want my approval of your new marriage? Done. Congratulations. Need my blessing for the baby you may actually parent? Here ya go.” I kept my arms moving, like the lunatic I was in that moment. “Want my acceptance of you moving to my town? The same town you ran from to get away from me? Fine. Take it. It’s yours, but don’t expect my forgiveness. You have no idea what life was like here. Alone. Butt of the town gossip. Orphaned.” My screeching voice choked and faltered on the final word. “Whatever else you’re looking for, it’s yours. Just, please, go away.” I spun and worked my key into the lock, praying he wouldn’t see the tears streaming over my cheeks.

  “I don’t want anything from you, and I’m not drunk. I’m here to make amends. I’ve been sober for two years. I need to apologize to the people I hurt, and I can’t tell your mother how sorry I am for leaving when my parents split, or make Mark understand I’m not the same guy I was then. I’m not a scared, rebellious, hurting teenage boy. I’m not an out-of-control, drunken soldier. I’m a new person, trying to find a way in life that’s worth living.”

  I walked inside and secured the door behind me, successfully shutting Joshua out. I slid down the door until the floor stopped me. I was a step in his path to recovery. He’d come to make amends, not to me, but for himself. The sobs came on fast, too fast to cull before they took over. I tipped onto the floor and let the pain do its worst. I was done fighting.

  I woke to the sounds of my phone buzzing against the hard floor. Heidi and Dean were on their way with junk food and bad movies for my birthday. My eyes were swollen and my mood was flat. I was cashed, but I was also tired of being a victim.

  I’d heard Joshua out. I’d given him what he wanted. I’d promised Mark I’d stay in the house and save him some money during his recovery. Now, it was time to get busy on something for me. Time to make memories I’d want to look back on someday.

  * * * *

  Between Rose and Mrs. Wells, Mark got another forty-eight hours of paid hospital stay before they kicked him out. The padding gave me time to scour and disinfect the house in preparation for his return. I cleaned things that hadn’t been touched in decades. I did baseboards and ceiling fans, windows and refrigerator drawers. Luckily, his bedroom was already on the first floor beside a bathroom, so I didn’t have to move furniture. I cleaned, scrubbed, and vacuumed until all evidence of our life there had vanished. Each room looked like a scene out of a magazine for poor country people, too perfect to be real.

  I set the final place on our newly polished dining room table and checked the clock. “He should be here by now. The hospital shuttle was set to leave thirty minutes ago.”

  Heidi doodled on the sole of her shoe. “He’ll be here. It’s not like they can keep him.”

  I paced. “Dinner’s in the Crock-Pot. I moved the mini fridge from the shed into Mark’s room and stocked it with bottled water and fruit. I have a thousand heart-healthy recipes on my Pinterest board, and his medication schedule is taped to the wall beside the kitchen sink. What am I forgetting?”

  “To relax for five minutes before you become full-time caregiver to a grouch? Sit down for a beat. You’ve been in motion for two days straight. We’re worried about you.”

  Alarm froze me in place. “Who?”

  She filled in a tiny heart-shaped butterfly on the toe of her knock-off Converse. “Me, Mom, Mrs. Wells, Dean, Sylvia, Mrs. B.” She ticked off fingers in time with her list.

  That was a lot of people. I didn’t realize that many people knew what a wreck I was. “Don’t worry about me. I’m—”

  “Fine. Yeah, we’ve heard.” She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Anyway, I’m still waiting on details, you know?” She leaned forward and blew gently over the fresh doodle.

  “Details about what?” I circled the table, straightening silverware on napkins. I’d already unloaded all my Joshua drama on her and Dean over meatball subs and Monty Python.

  “Dean, duh. You promised full disclosure and yet I know nothing. I feel a breach in the best friend clause. Check your copy.”

  “You don’t have details because there aren’t any. Dean and I are friends, which is completely bizarre but also perfect. He’s been exactly what I needed, and I wouldn’t want to ruin it with a summer romance that can’t go anywhere anyway.”

  I checked the clock once more. Where is he?

  A horn honked in the drive, and I dove for the front door.

  She beat me to the porch and stopped in my path. “So, don’t marry the guy. I just want to know what his lips feel like. Are they soft and velvety or hard and unyielding? What does he do with his hands? I especially need to know that.”

  The shuttle I’d expected was nowhere in sight. Instead, Dean’s battered old pickup sat behind Mark’s Ford.

  I did not need to see Dean’s face after Heidi’s lips and hands questions. I was glad for his friendship, but I was also human.

  “Stop.” I forced a tidal wave of dirty images from my head. “He’s here.”

  Dean opened the passenger door on his truck and offered Mark a hand getting out. Mark slapped it away.

  “Here we go.” I sighed.

  “Do you see those hands?” Heidi lifted one palm into my view and wiggled her fingers. “They’re huge, at least twice the size of my hands. Do you understand the implications there?”

  I shoved her hand away and waved to Dean and Mark. “Stop,” I hissed. “It’s not like that.”

  “It should be. He’s basically perfect and obviously into you. What is there to lose besides your virginity?”

  I flipped my back to the men walking up the stairs and stretched my eyes wide in warning. “Do not say virginity again. I will kill you.”

  The floorboards creaked on the porch behind me.

  She beamed. “Hi, Mr. Reese!”

  I turned slowly, hoping to look casual and less guilty for the ideas racing through my head.

  Mark lifted a cane in my direction. “Move it, would you? I need to lie down.”

  I stepped aside, and he pushed past me and into the house. His navy work pants hung from his leaner waist. His hair was grayer. His gait was smaller. He was home, but he wasn’t the same.

  “He’s a ray of sunshine,” Heidi muttered.

  He shuffled to his room and disappeared inside.

  “I guess a near-death experience only goes so far to improve a crappy attitude.” I gave Dean a welcoming look. “Hi.”

  “Hey.”

  “What happened to hospital transportation?”

  He ran long fingers through his sun-kissed hair. “I was having lunch with Mom and saw Mark arguing with the shuttle driver over what the ride would cost, so I intervened.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Don’t mention it.” Dean lifted a knapsack between us. “What should I do with this?”

  “I’ll take it to his room. He’ll want it in there.” I took the bag from Dean and headed down our first floor hall.

  Dean and Heidi followed.

  I delivered Mark’s
bag on the foot of his bed.

  “Where’s all my stuff?” Mark crabbed.

  “I cleaned. I put things away and made sure there was nothing to trip over.”

  He set his cane aside and glared at the fridge sitting beside his bed. “What the hell’s this doing here?”

  “I stocked it with water and healthy snacks.”

  “For Pete’s sake.” He lowered his shaky frame onto the bed and shoved the bag I’d just delivered onto the floor.

  Dean braced broad hands over narrow hips. “Something smells delicious.”

  I released a long breath. “It’s a chicken and corn casserole. I put it in the Crock-Pot this morning. It’s ready if you’re hungry.”

  Mark punched and mashed his pillow. “I think I’m going to rest.”

  My heart sunk. “Okay. No, you should rest. You can eat when you’re ready.”

  “They fed me at the hospital.” He closed his eyes, successfully shutting me out.

  “Mark?” I took a step toward the bed. “Do you want me to read to you?” Mom’s words had made him different at the hospital. Why had it worn off so soon?

  He wiggled his head against the pillow and hesitated. “Maybe later.”

  Tears pricked the backs of my eyes. The first thing on Mom’s list was to love my grandpa. I shouldn’t have expected it to be easy, given our history, but somehow I’d thought this was a new start for us. “Okay.” Disappointment choked the word.

  Heidi tugged me back into the hallway and rubbed my shoulders. “How about some cake?”

  Dean pulled Mark’s door shut and followed us to the kitchen. “I love cake. What kind do you have?”

  Heidi led the way. “Death by Chocolate.”

  Dean rubbed his hands together. “Excellent.”

  Heidi flipped the Crock-Pot to warm and shoved it back a few inches on the counter to make room for the cake. “Knife?”

  I stacked three plates on the island. “Check the dishwasher.”

  Dean pulled a fork off the dining room table and carefully scraped frosting letters off the cake where Heidi’s mom had carefully scripted Welcome Home Mark. “Mmm. Did you make this?”

  Mark had deflated me so easily with his well-practiced, I-don’t-want-to-look-at-you style. It wasn’t fair. I fought against the urge to drag myself upstairs and crash. “Heidi’s mom sent the cake. Who wants ice cream?”

  Dean pulled the freezer door open and thunked a half gallon of vanilla onto the counter. “Me.”

  I scooped ice cream into plastic bowls and Heidi served slabs of chocolate cake onto paper plates. Dean grabbed three water bottles from the fridge.

  Plates prepared, Heidi kicked the back door open with one foot. “You want to eat outside?”

  I took my usual seat, and the others sat on either side of me, like my emotional security detail. I jammed the tines of my fork into the cake. “I don’t know why I expected today to be any different than every day before.”

  “Maybe he just needs time to adjust,” Heidi reasoned. “I’m sure he hates being driven around and told what to do. You went through his room and changed things around without telling him. Now you’re basically the boss of him until he gets an All Clear from the doctor to resume his life in progress. All that is practically enough stress to do him in. Be thankful he’s just cranky.” Her pale blue tank accentuated her freckled skin. She stole a few pointed looks at Dean as she worked through her cake.

  I prayed she’d save whatever she was thinking for after he went home.

  Dean noticed her staring. “Your cousin Sam is a pretty cool guy. I still can’t believe he’s from here.”

  She scraped icing off her plate. “All his life.”

  “Small world. I missed a lot when I was here.” His sullen expression floored me. He really did regret the way his high school years went down.

  It made me wonder how much he hadn’t shared about his time with Kylie.

  He smiled at Heidi. “I hear you’re moving my way this fall.”

  “I am. What’s the dating pool like at Kent?”

  I kicked her under the table.

  Dean bounced his gaze off me before focusing on Heidi. “There are about twenty-two thousand undergrads and more than five thousand graduate students. It’s not hard to meet someone worth talking to.”

  Heidi squeaked. “Do you know how many people live in this town? Guess. Wait. I’ll tell you. Twenty-five hundred, and most of them are retired. I can’t wait for college. I’m going to be a dating machine.” She pounded her feet against the floorboards.

  I laughed. Imagining Heidi loose on a college campus was hilarious. Someone should warn the coeds. Thoughts like that made me regret not joining her, but that was her dream, not mine.

  “Are you dating anyone?” She smiled at Dean, attempting to seem casual.

  I suppressed the urge to whack her.

  Dean stretched long legs beneath the table. “No. I haven’t dated since high school.”

  “That was two years ago.” Heidi frowned. “Why not?”

  “Bad experience.”

  I could almost hear her wondering how bad dating Kylie Sweeney, Queen of Everything, could possibly be for a guy.

  A warm breeze kicked up, tossing our napkins off the table and bending overgrown grass in the lawn. I hadn’t thought of mowing since Mark went to the hospital, and the result was hideous. Crows and robins caught worms in the luscious depths and neighborhood cats chased moles around the shed. Mark would hate it.

  A long shadow stretched over the table as wide gray clouds crossed the evening’s inky blue sky.

  Dean scooped our napkins off the ground. “I’d better go home and mow before the rain comes. I’ll start here and finish up at my place. Mark would freak if he saw this. Care if I swing by after my shower tonight?”

  “Nope.”

  “Will Mark?”

  “I have no idea.” He probably had no intention of leaving his room.

  Dean stacked our empty plates. “Will you be here later, Heidi? I can bring a movie or a board game.”

  She studied him like the object of one of her paintings. “No. I think I’ll only stay long enough to watch you mow the lawn, then I’ll head home so the two of you can hang out.”

  Dean’s sudden laugh sent goose bumps over my skin. “Well, all right. See you later, then.”

  I dropped my head forward to hide a gargantuan smile.

  He let himself in the back door with our plates. A few moments later, his truck rumbled to life out front.

  I lifted my blazing hot face to Heidi and wiped tears from my cheeks. “You just told him you were only staying long enough to watch him mow the lawn.” A fresh round of humor stole my wind.

  “Yeah, so? I asked you for shirtless pictures, and you declined.”

  I laughed until my sides hurt and everything else faded into the background.

  If Mark wanted to sulk in his room like a spoiled child, that was fine by me. The Crock-Pot would keep his dinner warm until next week if he wanted. Meanwhile, I had my best friend, chocolate cake, and the hottest boy in town preparing to mow my lawn. I’d definitely had worse days.

  Chapter 12

  A week later, Mark and I had fallen into a new pattern of normal. Intentionally loving a person was complicated, so I started by treating him as if I already did. I was kind when I wanted to be sarcastic. I smiled when I wanted to walk away. I spoke to him with respect and patience when he didn’t deserve either. He hadn’t helped me with Mom’s list like he’d promised, but that didn’t mean I shouldn’t hold up my end of the bargain and do my best to get him back to work. Which also happened to be an act of love.

  Shockingly, my thoughts about Mark began to change after only a couple days of adjusting my behavior toward him. Seeing his face didn’t put me on the defensive anymore, and when I’d stopped mentally preparing for his rejection at every turn, our interactions became less charged. Sometimes, it was evident neither of
us knew what to do about it. We had plenty of long awkward moments when we both wanted to walk away but didn’t. He stopped going the other way when he saw me and started looking me in the eye when we spoke. I wasn’t always sure how to react, but I liked it, and it gave me a sliver of hope. What if it was possible for our truce to last indefinitely? Could I do more than scratch the first task off Mom’s list? Not just love Mark and hug him, but have some sort of relationship with him. Not what Mom had with him, but something that was real for Mark and me? Whatever that would be.

  Without a full-time job, Mark had no one else to talk to, so he’d begun talking at me, which I didn’t mind. He performed random bouts of grouching, and he loved to repeat himself. Two complaints he never tired of were how much he hated when I reminded him to take his pills and how he resented being treated like a child. The latter complaint started the day I offered a hand when he wobbled on his cane. While these particular laments seemed to be his favorites, he had an arsenal of general grievances and petitions as well. If there was a bright side, it was that he let me read to him sometimes. When emotion changed his face and glossed his eyes, he waved a hand and made an excuse for me to leave. Overall, the breakthrough I thought I’d seen under the filter of fluorescent hospital lighting was a mirage, shattered by the harder, brighter light of reality.

  We spoke to one another now, so that was something. Always a sucker for hope.

  “I’m going to the studio.” I stuffed house keys into my pocket and hefted my camera bag across my body.

  Mark grunted from his recliner in front of the television.

  “There’s a roast in the Crock-Pot, so help yourself whenever you get hungry.”

  He thumbed the channel button on the remote, flipping stations. “What do people do all day if they don’t work?”

  “Consider this a sneak peek at retirement, but don’t get too comfortable. The doctor says your recovery is almost on track. You’ll be back to work in no time.”

  He shifted in his seat. “I’m expected to lie around watching daytime television until then? Should I start napping after each meal like I’m eighty?”

  I trailed Dean’s pickup with my eyes as he wheeled into the driveway. “Why don’t you read or get a hobby? If you want to go fishing, we can spend a day at the lake. If you think of something you’d like to do, let me know and I’ll make it happen.”