KNOT: A Wake Family Novel (52 page)

Read KNOT: A Wake Family Novel Online

Authors: M Mabie

Tags: #A Wake Family Novel, #Book One

The vile thought of her going out and getting plastered by herself, then fucking some random dude, was insufferable.

The
fucking
part hurt enough, but my anxiety couldn’t handle the worry.

Would she do that now? Was she at the same point I’d been? Being irresponsible and reckless?

I was still mad though, and I didn’t know how to deal with it.

Could I talk to her about it?

I’d never found a manual on love, not for the lack of searching, so I was confident I wasn’t going to find one on navigating whatever the hell we were in those days.

A breakup? Fuck if that didn’t sound generic compared to how I felt.

Her thoughtless and dangerous actions required me to think.
Really
think.

So many things had changed. We could keep going on like we were, but it was obvious to me no one was winning. No one was benefiting from our behaviors or our choices anymore.

We were only getting by—and that wasn’t what I’d wanted for her. It certainly wasn’t what I’d gave up everything for.

I had to do better.

 

 

We’d decided to take our parents out to dinner since their party had been ruined by my sister’s lucky-to-be-alive ex. I was heading back to Washington again that week.

I’d talked to my friend Paul—we still hadn’t got to meet up when I was home—but he had news about Blake’s case they’d want to know.

The next day Casey called, I was glad Blake talked to him. She’d changed so much. We all had.

“I took care of it,” Casey said. “That motherfucker ever
thinks
about her again I’ll fucking kill him myself.” He was a fun guy, but when it came to Blake, he didn’t play around. I’d watched him go toe to toe with someone who’d hurt her. That’s the kind of guy you want looking after your family. Regardless of how cocky and amusing he was, he was a good man.

“Okay, well I’m still going in to talk with Paul. I’ll see you guys Friday night?”

“Yeah, you will. Talk to you later,” he said and disconnected the line.

 

 

The Seattle trip went well, even if I did get a ticket on the way to the airport after I’d forgotten my damn Swiss watch in my condo.

Blake looked like the girl she used to be. Energetic. Hopeful.

Despite everything that happened, even my parents looked happy.

I didn’t hear from Nora, and after some time to think—and get my fucking head on straight—I decided to contact her.

 

 

From:
Reagan Warren

Subject:
I’ve been thinking.

Date:
July 2, 2010 18:26 CDT

To:
Nora V. Koehl

 

Nora,

How’s the toe?

It’s been a little while since we last talked.
Let me clarify
. We’ve seen each other, and we’ve emailed about shit, but we haven’t said much.

We’ve failed at communicating with each other properly.

It’s like every time we’re around one another all we do is retaliate. I think we need to reestablish things. Call a truce.

What we’ve been doing isn’t healthy—this cat and mouse game. I’m not the cat I was, and you’re not a mouse anymore. It isn’t good for either of us. It isn’t who we are.

I hope.

I’ve been angry for a while, and I know all of it was my own doing, but it was easier to blame you. It probably doesn’t make much sense, but that’s how I dealt with things.

I was wrong.

I shouldn’t have asked you who you’d slept with—it wasn’t fair. I knew you’d ask me back, and I wanted to provoke you. I wasn’t thinking clearly. Nora, I was miserable.

However, I can’t forget what happened. I can’t let it go, and I can’t
not
say anything about it anymore because I hated getting that voicemail from you.

I hated that you were drunk and alone. I hated that you thought I’d suggested that would help.

Don’t do that. Please. I beg you.

You’re worth so much more than a few cocktails and a drunk fuck.

Several different, horrific scenarios plague me when I think about you doing that again. It’s not safe, and regardless of where we stand, your wellbeing is still my priority. Whether either of us like it or not.

I won’t go on about it further than that, but please understand it makes me sick to worry about you. Physically sick, Nora. My anxiety isn’t your burden, but it caused me to behave in a way that has only caused me more unease, all the while compromising your safety.

So stop.

In lighter news, my sister is doing much better. I thought you’d like to hear that. Casey proposed, and they’re getting married.

I hope there are good things happening for you.

 

Reagan

PS Please don’t do risky things.

PPS None of this email is a joke, just so we’re clear.

 

 

From:
Nora V. Koehl

Subject:
re: I’ve been thinking. (Shocking)

Date:
Aug 5, 2010 03:09 CDT

To:
Reagan Warren

 

I apologize for how long it’s taken me to respond.

I’m sorry I left that message. I was drunk, and it was a shitty thing to do. I’ll have you know, I was hungover for my poor decision, and therefore have decided
on my own
I will not be doing any of that again.

Still, you’re right. It wasn’t your business. The old me would have told you that in the shower.

God, I miss her. She never took your shit. Then again, she didn’t ask for it either.

I’m really happy for your sister. Please send them my congratulations.

There are a lot of things going on here, and I’m staying very busy. This being the boss thing is a lot of work.

 

Nora

PS I will be more careful if you stop bringing up my damn toe.

 

 

From:
Reagan Warren

Subject:
re:re:re: I’ve been thinking. (Shocking)

Date:
Aug 5, 2010 07:39 CDT

To:
Nora V. Koehl

 

Seriously, be careful.

We cannot discuss toes that don’t—according to you—exist anymore. Please renegotiate your terms.

 

Reagan

 

 

From:
Nora V. Koehl

Subject:
re:re:re:re: I’ve been thinking. (Shocking)

Date:
Aug 5, 2010 12:47 CDT

To:
Reagan Warren

 

Sir Frownsalot,

You’re still so fucking bossy.

I’ll be in the states in the next few months. If we have a truce, maybe we could get dinner? I understand how ironic it is for me to ask you to dinner through email.

But whatever.

 

Nora

 

 

From:
Reagan Warren

Subject:
re:re:re:re:re: I’ve been thinking. (Shocking)

Date:
Aug 6, 2010 07:39 CDT

To:
Nora V. Koehl

 

If you’re positive you want to go to dinner, then sure. How long will you be in town? And when? I’ll be leaving for San Francisco today for the weekend.

 

Reagan

 

 

From:
Nora V. Koehl

Subject:
re:re:re:re:re:re: I’ve been thinking. (Shocking)

Date:
Aug 6, 2010 08:10 CDT

To:
Reagan Warren

 

Not sure, but it won’t be for a few weeks, maybe a month. I want to talk about a few things with you. Some changes I’m making.

 

Nora

 

 

From:
Reagan Warren

Subject:
re:re:re:re:re:re:re: I’ve been thinking. (Shocking)

Date:
Aug 6, 2010 08:26 CDT

To:
Nora V. Koehl

 

I hope everything is all right. My sister’s wedding isn’t until September 18. I’ll be around except for then.

 

Reagan

PS You should come to my sister’s wedding with me? (That was a joke.)

 

 

From:
Nora V. Koehl

Subject:
re:re:re:re:re:re:re:re: I’ve been thinking. (Shocking)

Date:
Aug 6, 2010 20:50 CDT

To:
Reagan Warren

 

Have fun in San Francisco. You’re
so
funny. (That was a joke.) But was it a real invitation?

 

 

Why had I asked her again? Probably because I’d never learn and I’d had three drinks and hit send before I could stop myself. Still, if we were in a truce, maybe she’d actually show up.

I thought about little else as I traveled to San Francisco. Nora and little else.

Casey’s family was great. Micah, Blake’s best friend, was actually married to Casey’s twin brother. It was a challenge to keep everyone straight.

Micah planned a great surprise party for them. I guessed it was one part engagement party and one part some sort of shower, so there were many faces I didn’t know.

One face—other than my family—who I did know was there.

Melanie.
Shit
.

I’d fucked her at Blake’s first wedding, that wasn’t going to happen again.

“How’s it going, Reggie?” she asked next to the cooler. I’d needed another beer, but she’d been hanging close to it. Eventually, I had to go over.

“Pretty good. How have you been?”

She smiled then nudged my elbow, “Don’t worry. I’m seeing someone. I’m off limits.” She was teasing, and that eased my mind. I’d needed a weekend with my family, and with all of us in California—and getting to spend some time with Shane—I was actually enjoying myself.

“That’s good.”

“How did things turn out with that chick from Switzerland? You were pretty drunk—and so was I—but I remember you telling me you hoped her toes fell off.” She laughed, and even if I didn’t recollect that conversation, I couldn’t deny it. I also couldn’t hold in my chuckle. God, shit was so fucked up. It was ridiculous.

“Oh, I don’t know,” I said and held up a finger to let Blake know I’d be right back to kick her ass in another game of washers. “It’s complicated.”

“Well, if Casey and Blake getting together, after all of this time, proves anything, it
can
work out. Sometimes it just takes a while.”

Sometimes it takes a while, and sometimes it was never going to happen.

Regardless, their party was a great time. Our parents and Casey’s seemed to get along great. Their friends were cool, and my sister looked right at home.

The next night, after poker and cigars for a make-shift bachelor party, my brother and I decided to do it up right.
Late night.

“Reggie-man, I’m ready to head back to the hotel. I can’t drink anymore.” After being at the strip club, and never once getting a dance, I’d decided I’d let alcohol be my distraction. We’d found a belly full.

“Are you sure you don’t want one more?” I asked him.

“Nah, I’m ready to pass out. I can’t drink like I did when I was fat. I’m a light weight now.” He was right, he must have lost fifty pounds or so. I was happy to see my older brother finally starting to come out of his funk from his divorce.

“Yeah. Yeah. Let’s go then,” I told him.

I noticed when we were walking down the hall to our rooms, I was as drunk as he was. My shoulder ran into the wall time and time again.

“Okay, little brother,” he slurred and slipped his card through the lock. “I’m fucking out. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight,” I said.

I was drunk, but there was something I couldn’t quit thinking about. Something from her last email. Something I’d find little peace with, until I got off my chest.

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