Authors: Erin Nicholas
When the kid looked away, he let the spider go, then faced the front of Wall Drug.
He wasn’t getting any real thinking done out here. There was too much going on, too many people, too damned much noise.
Fricking spring break anyway.
He knew that would sound crazy out loud. He never wanted quiet and was absolutely the spring break kind of guy. Sure, his idea of a great spring break involved more beaches, bikinis and Mike’s Hard Lemonade than Wall, South Dakota had to offer, but in general he was behind the idea of taking a break from the real world and kicking back.
Until now. Now he was contemplating
leaving
a vacation to go back to the real world.
Perfect.
Fricking spring break.
“Hey.”
He was finally back. Isabelle turned from the display of sunglasses to face Shane. He’d been outside on the phone for a long time. “Hey, look what I got for you.”
She held out the tiny flashlight that he could clip to his keychain. She clicked the button to turn it on and off for him.
“I don’t need a flashlight. I kind of get issued a really big one from the precinct.”
“Oh, I was—” She broke off as she looked at him. “Are you okay?”
“Can we go? Somewhere quiet? This place is driving me nuts.”
Isabelle nodded slowly. “Of course. Sure.” There was something up with Shane. He looked stressed out. Shane never looked stressed out. “Let me pay for this and we can go.” She had her little shopping basket full of souvenirs. She’d been collecting things as they went along the trip for their friends and her family. She loved souvenir shops.
He stood behind her in line, his hands tucked into his front pockets, jaw tight. Typically, Shane was the kind of guy to strike up a conversation with the strangers in line around them, to tease the sales clerk, to try on fifteen hats he’d never actually wear and ask the people around for their opinions and then buy souvenir shot glasses for all his buddies.
He wasn’t even making eye contact with anyone.
She didn’t know who he’d talked to, but something was not right.
“Shane?”
“Not now, Iz.”
“Everything okay at home?”
“Yes.”
Shane also wasn’t the one-word-answer guy.
“You sure?”
He looked down at her. “Can we not do this right here and right now?”
“Do what?”
He put his hands on her shoulders, turned her to face the cash registers and nudged her forward. “Not. Now.”
She stood shifting her weight from side to side, itching to turn around again, but not at all brave enough for that. He was worked up. Fine, she’d wait. But if he thought she was going to let it go completely, he was crazy.
Finally it was her turn. The clerk rang up her purchases and Isabelle reached into her purse for her wallet. She pulled it out…along with something else.
“Uh, Shane?”
“Isabelle,” he said firmly. “Seriously. Let’s go somewhere else.”
“I need your help with something.”
She turned and held the pendant up.
He stared at the chain swinging from her fingers.
“How the hell—”
“I don’t know how I got it back,” she said. “I didn’t see anyone, I didn’t talk to anyone.” She assumed Bradley had something to do with it, but why wouldn’t he talk to her if he was here? Had they hired someone to drop it in her purse? That was strange. Of course, that wasn’t the first or only thing about all of this she’d label that way.
His jaw firmed. “Fuck no.”
“No?” That wasn’t exactly the reaction she’d been expecting…or one that even made sense really.
“No. I’m done. I’m not doing this anymore.”
“But…”
He tossed two twenty dollar bills on the counter, grabbed her stuff and her hand and started for the front of the huge store.
“Shane.”
But he kept going, dodging people and displays.
He ran into a man who stepped back suddenly from a rack of T-shirts. The guy apologized, but Shane barely looked at him and kept moving. A kid stepped on his toe, he banged his knee against a stroller, he nearly got hit in the face with a paper fan a woman held up to show her daughter, but he kept going.
Until he found a corner out of the way, near the restrooms. Then he pulled Isabelle in, turned her so her back was in the corner, braced his hands on either side of her head and said, “I think you’re right.”
Completely confused by his actions and attitude, she said carefully, “Love those words.”
“We need to take a break.”
Her heart plummeted. “Oh. That.” Never mind then.
But it was what she’d been saying. So why did it suck so much to hear it from him?
“We need to both think things through, think about what we want.”
She nodded. They did. It made total sense to do that.
“I’m going to rent a car and drive back home tomorrow. Amanda’s coming up to be with you.”
“You told my sister that you’re leaving?”
“I told Ryan.”
Isabelle crossed her arms over her stomach and pressed. It made it seem even more real knowing that someone else knew about it. “Ryan thinks it’s a good idea?” she asked.
Shane shook his head. “No, but he understands.”
She took a deep breath. “How much did you tell him?” She couldn’t explain it, but she didn’t want anyone else to find out about her fibro yet. Or ever.
“I told him that we’re working on things. And that I thought we needed space. But he and I agreed that you shouldn’t be up here alone. It’s up to you if and when and what you tell anyone else,” he said.
“Thanks.” She wet her lips before asking, “Does knowing all of this help you?”
Shane knew more than she’d intended to tell him at this point too. She’d known about her condition for ten months and okay, she knew she wasn’t embracing it and learning everything she could, but it was overwhelming. She needed more time. Some trial and error. Some…space. Like Shane was suggesting. Having him there reminding her to drink water and give up her gummy bears wasn’t helping.
“Yeah,” he finally said. “It helps knowing that there was a good reason for the breakup.”
She sucked in a quick breath, surprised that his answer stung.
A good reason
. So he agreed that it was a good reason. A good reason for them to be apart.
“But no,” he added. “In some ways it’s just frustrating as hell. There’s only so much I—
we
—can do for you, so it’s…hard.”
Right.
“Then you’re leaving in the morning?”
“Yeah. It’s about an hour and a half to the cabin from here. I thought we might as well go the rest of the way to the cabin for the night and then you can take me back to Rapid City in the morning. The car rental options are probably better there.”
Made sense. Made her stomach hurt too.
But it was what she wanted. Kind of. Space. Time. A chance to be
sure
they could make this work. Though having him five hundred miles away wasn’t exactly conducive to seeing how they each adjusted to the lifestyle changes they needed to consider.
She dropped her hands, ready to move, then remembered that she held the dragon pendant.
“What about this?” she asked, holding it up. They could still take it to the place Bradley had asked her to drop it off.
“This,” Shane said with clear disgust. He took it from her. “This is one more example of things I can’t fix.”
She froze. “What’s that mean?”
He was focused on the pendant as he said, “It seemed like something I could handle at first. I even thought it could be a good thing that would bring us closer. But every time I think you or I have taken care of it, it pops back up. It’s never completely gone.” He shifted his gaze to her. “I guess I have to accept that no matter how determined I am, no matter how tough I am, I can’t change everything I want to.”
Isabelle couldn’t swallow past the sudden swell of emotions in her throat. The metaphor was pretty clear.
After a moment of simply looking at one another, as if waiting for the other to say something magical to make it all okay, he turned and stalked back into the gift shop. Isabelle followed. “Shane, what are you—” He hung the pendant on a hook with some other necklaces, peeled a price tag off a set of earrings hanging nearby, stuck it on the dragon and grabbed her hand. “Let’s go.”
Isabelle let him tug her toward the door again, but she reached out and snagged the pendant. “You can’t just hang it up in a gift shop,” she said. “We can’t leave it behind.”
“It’s not my problem.”
Leaving it behind was easier than continuing to deal with it. A lot like getting in his car in the morning and leaving
her
behind. Yeah, she got the metaphor loud and clear.
They stepped out of the store. “It’s our responsibility,” she said, wondering if he’d get
her
metaphor. “We kind of made a promise to take care of it.”
“Drop it, Iz. It was a sweet idea at first, but I’m done.”
She stopped and looked up at him.
I’m done
were not words she wanted to hear from Shane. Ever. In spite of her attempts to break up with him, she loved knowing he’d keep trying. In that moment, she realized that she’d been counting on it. Yes, part of her mind believed that he would be happier without her and her issues, but her heart needed to know that even if it didn’t make sense, he’d be there for her. “What are you talking about?” She needed to know
exactly
what he was done with.
“The game.”
So he
had
figured it out. She’d known it was only a matter of time.
“Sha—”
“Ma’am, I’m going to need you to come with me.”
She turned to face the security guard that was standing behind her, hands on his hips. Dammit, she and Shane were having a moment here. “Excuse me?”
“You left the store without paying for merchandise. I’m going to need you to come with me.”
She held the basket of souvenirs up. “Sorry, you can have the basket back. We paid for these. We—” Shit. They hadn’t gotten a receipt. Shane had just tossed money at the cashier. “We gave her forty dollars,” Isabelle said. “The sunglasses are only twelve bucks.” The rest of the silly trinkets she’d collected couldn’t possibly add up to twenty eight dollars.
The guard ignored the basket, but took the pendant from her fingers.
Oh.
He looked at the price tag. “That doesn’t cover the price of the necklace,” he said. “And I assume you don’t have a receipt.”
Well, no. She shook her head.
“Dammit, Iz,” Shane muttered, just realizing she’d grabbed the pendant on the way out.
“This is ours,” she told the security officer. This doesn’t belong to the store. We brought it in with us.”
“You took it off the display,” the man said.
Dammit. Yes, she had. “I promise you it’s ours.”
“Oh, well, as long as you
promise
I’ll have to believe you” he said dryly.
“The price sticker is ours.” He stepped back, indicating that he wanted them to head down the sidewalk. “Let’s go.”
Shane did nothing but take her elbow and steer her past the man.
“You’re not going to tell him you’re a cop?” she said, loud enough for the guard to hear her.
“Won’t matter,” Shane said. “Cops don’t get to shoplift either.”
“We didn’t shoplift it!”
“But we’re not going to prove that by standing on the sidewalk and insisting,” Shane said.
This wasn’t part of the game. The security guard was serious. The game had made
some
sense in her kitchen that morning when Emma had told her about it. It had seemed simple, entertaining, harmless. But it had gotten unexpectedly complicated.
Like her whole relationship with Shane.
She glanced at him as they followed the sidewalk in the direction the guard indicated.
The game had been intended as a break from the somber subject of her condition and its effect on their relationship. But it had turned into a frustration for Shane. Much as her symptoms would over time. The guard stopped them at the door labeled
Security
. Shane leaving made sense. Being apart had been
her
idea initially. She’d broken things off with him months ago. But she was more than happy to think that his leaving might get postponed. Even if it was by an accidental shoplifting.
She was a mess.
“Take a seat,” the guard said, pointing toward two chairs in front of his desk. It was clearly not a request.
They sat. Shane crossed one ankle over his knee and linked his hands together on his stomach. Isabelle crossed her legs too, her foot bouncing up and down as the guard typed a few things into his computer.
No one spoke.
Strangely, the relative quiet grated on Isabelle’s nerves.
“This is crazy,” she said. “We didn’t do anything wrong.”
Shane gave her a long look that clearly said
don’t
. She frowned at him.