“Now I have to let you go. And I promise to live my own life.”
Once back on her feet, she shoved her freezing hands back in her pocket. The residual warmth from the box inside her jacket faded.
“Good bye, Jack.”
****
I’m the scum of the Earth
, Ethan thought as he drove Myrna’s Civic through the black, winding roads of Mackineer. After he’d come downstairs from writing, he had to get out. He had to find her. Just one look on his face, and Myrna offered her car without question.
The anger and bitterness of his words in the article were directed more at his father. And he’d taken it out on Audrey. On her campaign, on her family, and the town itself. But the worst part was that he’d sent the article to Bose anyway.
He’d submitted the most damaging article to Audrey’s political career, and in the same breath realized all he wanted was her. Whatever that meant. He didn’t care about his New York position anymore, or his career as an investigative journalist. All he cared about was her. How horrible she’d feel when she read the article Sunday morning, the betrayal of a lifetime, and hence the hatred of a generation. And it was all his fault.
Why in the hell would he think he deserved Audrey’s love? Certainly not her admiration or loyalty. Given Ethan’s track record, people would assume he didn’t know the meaning of those words.
Each turn of the steering wheel brought him closer into town. He had to find her. He wasn’t sure where the Davises lived, but he’d search for her car in every parking lot if he had to. Mackineer wasn’t that big anyway. Besides, he’d wasted so much of his time on insignificant things and this was the first one that felt important. Critical. Finding Audrey.
The powder blue Acura wasn’t in the Piggly Wiggly parking lot, and there was no surprise it wasn’t in the bar’s lot either. That would have been the last place she’d visit.
Ethan wound his way down the streets, not seeing her car in any driveway he passed. The only things left down this lane were the motel and library. And the cemetery.
The cemetery.
Just as the thought crossed his mind, the road curved and the familiar powder blue SUV appeared, parked on the side of the road by the entrance to the graveyard, underneath a large oak that sprinkled the hood with bright red and orange leaves.
He pulled Myrna’s civic next to Audrey’s car and shoved the gear into Park. Audrey’s full silhouette was easily visible in the darkened air just after sunset, leaning against the large willow tree gazing across the pond. Her espresso-colored hair blew around her shoulders in the crisp breeze, draping down her back. The only angle at which Ethan had a decent view from sitting in the car. God, she was beautiful. She could have been a model. Not one of those skinny runway twigs, but the wholesome women in vacation ads or toothpaste commercials. The ones depicting the dream wife, safe, worthy, girl-next-door turned woman-worth-living-for.
Where the hell did that come from?
Drawing a deep breath, he climbed out and moved along the hill, preparing himself for the groveling of a lifetime. And a slap across the face.
The climb only took a minute, and if she heard him she never turned to face him. When he reached her side, the look in her eyes as she stared across the pond made him wish he were telepathic. No tears, no red-rimmed eyes or splotchy face.
Just peace.
What he wouldn’t give to feel the same.
A flock of ducks skirted across the pond, then dunked their heads in the water. Despite the chilly air, they seemed comfortable, safe. At home.
Damn, this place is beautiful, too. Audrey sure can pick the inspirational places.
This spot gave multiple perspectives. One view gave this incredible Thomas Kinkaid setting, no doubt the muse for several paintings or country songs, and only a mere turn gave the scene of a country graveyard, simple yet well tended.
Another glance at Audrey’s profile proved this place was both her muse and her crutch. The previous conversation with the Davises must have caused her so much pain, wondering if any of them had a real chance to grieve.
But with the tranquility he saw in her eyes, he realized it went better than he expected. Better than she expected.
Ethan put his arm around her and pulled her in for a sideways hug. Whether on instinct or just a reflex, she laid her head against his shoulder and wrapped her arm around his waist, both still focused on the pond. The gesture was so simple, yet comfortable and undemanding.
The fresh scent of her perfume, or maybe that was soap, clean and flowery, calmed his troubled mind. Her warmth infiltrated his coat, spreading through his limbs. How wonderfully she fit into his side. The thought would normally have unnerved him, but he didn’t let the negative thoughts linger.
This felt right. This felt safe. Even if only for a moment.
Her body shivered.
“Are you cold?” he asked.
“Not anymore.”
“Do you want to head home?”
“Do you have what you need?”
Her question was plain, unassuming and without accusation. He squeezed her shoulder tightly and responded without a thought. “Right here.”
They both looked at each other, the confusion in her eyes slowly melting away to an unmistakable wanting. Yearning. And for the first time in Ethan’s life, tingles of fear consumed his heart, because he had no agenda. No ulterior motive other than to be right in front of her, full of need to see Audrey looking at him the way she was right now.
Tilting his head forward, he kissed her forehead, so soft it was almost just a breath.
“Are you okay?” he whispered, barely able to speak with the flood of emotion gripping his chest.
He felt her nod underneath his chin and she wrapped her other arm around his waist, holding just as tightly. Did she feel the same fear? Could she sense his hands trembling as he held her, unwilling to let go?
This is terrifying.
For the first time since his mother died, he felt he had something to lose. Something so precious and valuable, yet which was never his to begin with. But damn if he didn’t want this to be in his life constantly. This feeling of being needed,
wanted
. Not just the physical, lustful want he’d had with meaningless women before, but this feeling of completion.
“Audrey,” Ethan said softly, trying to find the words to explain himself. But they wouldn’t come. A writer without words—ironic. “You deserve so much better than—”
“It’s okay,” she interrupted him. Pulling out of his embrace, she grabbed his hand and led him to the bench a few feet away. The leaves crunched under the feet as the breeze slowly relented and stopped.
They sat on the bench, her thigh pressed against his.
“No one has ever had the full story,” she started confidently. “The first reporter never even interviewed me, and drew conclusions from the little details he had, which everyone took as fact. Ever since, I’ve never held much respect for reporters.”
Biting back the shame flooding through him, Ethan waited for her to continue. She looked directly in his eyes and her sincerity held him captive on the bench.
“I can’t explain what this is between us, Ethan. My rational side is telling me to push you away. But you feel something for me, I know it. I can see it. And contrary to what others may have told you, I don’t run from things. Not from things that matter.”
Ethan’s throat squeezed in on itself.
I matter to her. This matters. If only I were worthy.
“So you need to know,” she sighed, clutching his hand. “Do with it what you will, but I’m not telling this to the journalist. I’m telling this to
you
.”
Ethan opened his mouth to speak, but she pressed her finger to his lips.
“Please…let me get this out.”
With a resigned stare, he kissed her knuckles and waited.
“That night was very much like this one. Cold, but warm at the same time. I was my typical self, stubborn and relentless. I knew he was tired, but I wanted to be alone with him…”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Did you see it? That pass was epic,” Jack raved from the driver’s seat, winding his way through the back roads one-handed. “The way it just slipped into Adam’s fingertips like that. State champs, here we come, baby.”
Audrey grinned at Jack from the passenger seat. She loved the goofy smile he had whenever he talked about football. His dirty blonde hair was longer than she liked tonight, but she wouldn’t fuss over his silly superstition during playoffs. “What did the doc say about your shoulder?”
“Just ice and rest.”
“That was a really hard plow, Jack. You sure you should start the playoff game tomorrow?”
“I’ll be fine. Just a good night’s sleep, maybe cut tonight short a bit. But I’m starving. Hand me a burger?”
Audrey reached down and pulled a burger from the paper sack at her feet. Jack opened it with his free hand and scarfed it down. Audrey held his napkin, twisting the end around her finger.
This was horrible timing. She knew it. But playoffs could last for three more weeks, and there’d be no “good timing” for this news anyway.
“You’re quiet,” Jack said after he’d swallowed the last bite. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She handed him the napkin to wipe his mouth. “Let’s just get there.”
His piercing brown eyes caught hers and her breath caught.
Damn, he was good at that. All fuzzy inside with just one look.
“Nervous or something?”
Audrey scoffed. “Me?”
He smiled again, that gorgeous Sinatra grin. “Never been anxious like this the dozen times before. I think we’re kinda good at it by now.”
“A little too good,” Audrey murmured.
“What do you mean?” He flipped on the wipers for the slow drizzle that just started.
Shit. Well, you’ve come this far, Audrey. Time to finish it.
“Audrey?”
“I’m pregnant.”
She couldn’t look at him. This was it. This was when even the most perfect of guys completely flipped out and became jerks. Things never ended up great for the girl.
A long, silent moment passed and she couldn’t bear it. She looked at him.
Stunned. Typical. And gawking at her. “Seriously?” he finally said.
Audrey squirmed in her seat. “Yeah.”
Jack kept glancing between the road, Audrey’s face, and her stomach. “How far along?”
“Ten weeks.”
She couldn’t breath. Jack kept staring at her, mouth open, eyes wide.
“That’s…” She watched him do the math in his head. “What, two and half months?”
“Yeah. And don’t you
dare
start with that ‘it’s-not-yours, I-must-be-cheating’ crap.” The defensive side kicked in. Her combative nature was her default emotion whenever Jack wasn’t around. Being the town outcast warranted it. “You’re the only one I’ve been with and you know it.”
Being with the town’s black sheep never bothered Jack. It was one of the things she loved most about him. He didn’t mind that she was different than everyone. Instead, he loved her for it.
But why he wouldn’t say anything now was killing her. She was used to the strange looks from everyone else, like she was a rebellious alien bound to destroy her family’s good name, but not from him.
Then, finally, he laughed. The glorious smile burst onto his face, and she felt her own eyes light up. “That’s incredible!”
“Really?”
“Well, its several years early, but that was the plan for us anyway, right?”
“Um…I guess.”
“Aud…” He reached across the center console to grab her hand, wincing slightly as his shoulder stretched. “This is wonderful!” He kissed her palm and then each of her fingers, sending hot sparks up her arm. “I love you so much.”
Audrey unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned across the seat, covering his cheek and neck with kisses.
Thank God!
Jack really was one in a trillion. The whole idea of a baby at eighteen still scared her out of her boots, but at least he’d be at her side. He wasn’t like the other jerks she saw on TV.
For the first time in several weeks, life was beautiful. This could work. They’d both graduate high school and find a place somewhere close to college. She’d go to art school while he went for his Political Science degree. It would be hard, but together they could do it.
“This is just perfect,” Jack said as Audrey sat back in her seat. “The timing…I was gonna wait until we got there, but…”
Jack reached into his pocket, using his injured arm to steer the car for a moment. But his seatbelt was in the way. He un-clicked it and reached again.
The rest of the images in her mind blended together in one flash of a collage, but spread out like an old reel-to-reel film. In slow motion, like a piano solo of
“
The Descent”
by Michele McLaughlin, the headlights veered to the right, and the black and white spots of a cow beamed back at them brighter than the sun. The tires squealed, the high-pitched scream of the brakes mixed with the moo of the cow, and she slammed against her door, the window shattering against her forehead.
Her body lifted out of the seat and her head hit the roof, followed by the sack of food that was originally at her feet. Her body tossed around the car like a ping-pong ball, every jab and scrape more painful than before, and she opened her eyes just in time to see Jack’s body eject through the windshield, followed by a massive pole careen through the back seat, ripping the car in shreds. Audrey’s body diverted sharply to the right, and a stabbing pain unlike any words could describe spread through her torso and chest.
A few seconds, or hours later, a numbing cold destroyed every nerve in her body.
****
Ethan’s hands rested on her thigh and knee, two warming cores against the bitter cold her body still remembered.
“I didn’t remember the details for several months,” Audrey finished, holding on to one of his hands. “But one day I woke up and remembered everything. And it has replayed in my mind every night since then.
“I miscarried after the accident. And any chance for a piece of Jack to live on was gone. No one else knew I was pregnant. Then, even though I was eighteen, the doctor still told my mother. Probably because I’d need help to recover. I assume she told my father, because he never looked at me the same after that. Neither of them did.”