Read Spirits of Spring (The Haunting Ruby Series Book 4) Online
Authors: Joy Elbel
Distracted by how old I suddenly felt, I let Zach drive
right past an outlet mall without begging him to stop which
made me feel ten times older.
A few miles and half a dozen
checks in the mirror in search of possible early onset of graying
hair later, I was focused enough to have the much needed
discussion with Zach.
The tension level in that SUV went from non-existent
to a geyser ready to blow. I knew that he didn’t want to talk
about it which is exactly why he
needed
to talk about it.
“No, Zach, I won’t take no for an answer. You never
once mentioned selling them until now. This has something to
do with the fights you’ve been having with your dad, doesn’t
it?”
While his expression and tone of voice suggested anger,
the fact that I saw a small tear drop from the corner of his eye
suggested that there was something much deeper going on in
his mind. I eased up on the dominatrix approach and tackled
the subject from a different angle.
“I know that you’re hurting inside but I can’t help you if
you won’t tell me why. You can trust me—you know that. You
don’t have to hide anything from me. I may not be able to fix
the situation but I can at least try to make you feel better about
it—if you let me.”
My new tactic produced a quivering lip, another tear,
and threat of the same for me. Seeing him in pain was tough for
me to bear. Usually, he was the strong one, the one mopping up
my
emotional messes—not me his.
There was no way I was
going to let him drive the whole way home while trying to fight
the urge to break down.
Zach nodded and maneuvered us into the right hand
lane at the first opportunity he had. According to one of the
signs, the next exit was only five miles away. I kept my mouth
shut for fear that he would become a tearful hot mess with a
single word from my mouth. They were the longest five miles
of my life.
As we coasted down the off ramp, I tried to think of
what to say to him to get him to open up. It turned out to be
wasted time. He only took enough time to pull into the first
parking lot we came across and put the vehicle in park before
literally throwing
himself into my
arms.
His
body
shook
violently as he buried his head between my neck and shoulder
and cried.
I saw a brief flicker of motion as Clay exited the car
before I closed my eyes and pulled Zach closer to me.
His breakdown was brief but the tears fell in torrents
while it lasted. When he pulled back to compose himself, I saw
something that I had never noticed before. Zach had beautiful
eyes—that was something even a blind woman couldn’t miss—
but I’d never paid any attention to his eyelashes. Coated in a
fine mist of tears, they were the
lashes
of
an
angel—like
miniature halos hovering above his eyes. I was seeing a deeper
part of his soul than what he had ever revealed to me before.
As he dabbed at his tears, I began to weep.
There
was
something
about
his
unabashed
vulnerability that I found breathtaking. I could feel his sadness
creeping through my body as though his pain were my own. I’d
seen him cry before but never like this. Something terrible was
haunting him—something worse than anything I’d dealt with
myself.
I gave him a moment to collect his thoughts while I
pondered over what I had just witnessed.
There was
an
awkward beauty to sorrow, it revealed those places we all
desperately tried to keep hidden. It demolished the walls built
to protect the most fragile pieces of our hearts.
Of course, I
hated to see him so sad but I was grateful for the chance to see
the exquisiteness of what he held beneath the surface.
When he seemed ready to talk, I asked him to tell me
what was
wrong—
everything
that was
wrong.
Yes, quite
hypocritical of me considering that I kept so much of myself
hidden from him but I had to know the full severity of what was
bothering him. If there was any chance that I could help him
get through this situation, I needed to know exactly what I was
up against.
“Okay,” he began, “You know how I blame myself for my
grandpa’s death, right? Well, my dad still holds me responsible,
too. In my dad’s eyes, I’m nothing short of a murderer.”
“No, Zach, I’m sure you’re wrong about that. I know you
guys have been fighting an awful lot since your accident, but
don’t you think it has more to do with the financial aspect of
things? You know, unnecessary bills and all?”
“No,” he said shaking his head with conviction, “I
thought that at first but not anymore. He made the reasons for
his animosity quite plain about a week ago during one of our
blowups. In his eyes, I killed his father. He’s never going to let
me forget that.”
I sat there slack jawed and at a loss for words. I knew
from personal experience what it was like to blame yourself for
the death of someone close to you. The part I didn’t quite know
how to wrap my brain around was what it must feel like to
know that someone
else
blames you, too.
“Zach, are you
sure
you understood him right?” I said,
hoping it was all a matter of miscommunication that could be
easily cleared up.
“Positive. This isn’t the first time he’s said it to me—I
just thought it was a momentary flash of intense grief at the
time. The night of Grandpa’s funeral, Dad had a few drinks—
something he rarely ever does.
I was having trouble falling
asleep and went to the kitchen for some hot chocolate. I found
my
Dad
sitting
at the
kitchen
table drunk.
He started
complaining about the chair making his back hurt and fell
trying to get up. When I went to help him back onto his feet, he
told me to get my hands off of him because he wasn’t ready to
die yet.”
“But, Zach,” I interjected, “He was drunk—you said it
yourself. I’m sure you just read too much into his intoxicated
ramblings.”
“You didn’t let me finish.
I blew it off as just that until
he totally went off on me. He told me that I was selfish, that I
needed to grow up and be more responsible.
He said that he
was disappointed in me, that he thought that I was going to
have the kind of life that he lost because of his injury but that
all I cared about was girls and those stupid drums. He said now
that those drums reminded him of the man that I killed and that
he never wanted to hear me play them again—ever.”
Instantly, I felt terrible. If I’d only known at the time, I
never would have asked him to play for me.
I always just
assumed that he quit playing because he was trying to focus
more on school and not because of something like this. Zach
was more of a hot mess than I ever could have imagined he
was.
Finding no words that would comfort him, I rested my
hand reassuringly on his arm instead.
With us both on the
verge of tears again, he pushed forward and continued his
story.
“Grandpa bought me those drums—he knew how much
I loved to play. I was terrible at first and I almost gave up on
ever being able to make actual music with them.
The same
went for my dream of being a veterinarian. I have hated math
since day one because I wasn’t any good at it but he encouraged
me to keep going because surviving failure was the only way to
achieve my goals.” He gave a wry laugh and added, “I
conquered the drums much quicker than I did calculus.”
I smiled sympathetically. I knew just how frustrated he
got at times but I admired his tenacity in that department. Still
not sure of what to say, I simply said, “I know.”
“So anyway, after that drunken comment I expected my
dad to apologize the next day. He didn’t. He acted like nothing
was wrong, like he’d never ripped my heart out and thrown it
into the fire.”
Again, Little
Miss
Dark
Cloud herself
put
on
her
optimist shoes and tried to escort him to a much sunnier way of
thinking. “You have to realize though, Zach, he probably
didn’t
remember a word he said to you.
I know that his words hurt
you but maybe if you forgave him for that one stupid mistake,
they would hurt you less.”
“Ruby, I appreciate your efforts here but you’re
wrong—he remembered everything. I tried to convince myself
that he didn’t but I had a nagging suspicion that I was right so I
decided to test my theory. Up until that point, Dad encouraged
me to play. He said that he always wished that he had musical
talent but that having a son who did was just as fulfilling.
I
played almost every night up until then. If I went more than a
few days in a row without touching them, he would always ask
me to play something for him. So when I stopped completely
and
he
never questioned it, I
knew for a
fact that he
remembered every word of our conversation.”
I searched my brain for an optimistic comeback for that
but found nothing because Zach was right. His dad
did
mean
every word he said to him that night.
My next words were
weak but heartfelt and the only ones that came to mind. “I’m
sorry.”
“Don’t be. It isn’t your fault. If anything, you’re the
reason why I’m not a complete hermit at this point in my life. I
stopped dating all together after that—half because of the
whole Misty incident, but half because of how guilty my dad
made me feel because of it.
In fact, I had zero intentions of
dating you, either. If it hadn’t been for that weird zap I felt
when I touched you that day at the diner, I never would have
pursued it.”
I wasn’t exactly sure how that comment made me feel.
On one hand, I was in awe of the fact that our weird connection
broke down Zach’s impenetrable dating wall. On the other, I
was a bit disappointed to hear that he wouldn’t have even given
me a second glance otherwise. But then again, I was kind of in
the same boat that he was
at the time—just for different
reasons.
While it still kind of bugged me, I understood exactly
what he meant by it. When neither of us was looking for love,
that’s when we found it in each other.
Zach must have sensed
my
momentary
crappiness
because he quickly added, “But of course now I’m glad that I
did. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Ruby.”
I smiled but inside I was even more troubled.
Our
relationship had been anything but a smooth one. In fact, it had
been fraught with peril and dishonesty practically from day
one. The lies—most of them anyway—were behind us now and
life would be so much more
normal
once we were out of
Charlotte’s Grove. All we needed was a fresh start and some
distance between us and the horrors of the past year. Things
would be perfect in just a few short months.
“I feel the same way about you, too. I wish things could
be different between you and your dad.
Your family always
seemed so perfect to me, undamaged and unflawed. Maybe you
guys can work out your differences once you’re out of the
house.
You know, maybe it will make you appreciate each
other more.”
Zach nodded his head in agreement. “I hope you’re
right about that. Things weren’t always like this. As a matter of
fact, he hadn’t brought up the past in a long time. My car
accident detonated that dormant bomb for some reason. I have
a feeling that it triggered some memories in him of some sort,
memories of what happened to him his senior year.” He
shrugged his shoulders and stared off into the distance. “I don’t
really know.”
“You may never know that answer. But one thing you
do
need to know is this—you have to find a way to forgive
yourself for your grandpa’s death. I know it’s a terrible chain of
events that you continue to link back to yourself but it wasn’t
your fault. I know what guilt feels like. It will eat away at you
from the inside out until you find a way to let it go. I’m kind of
an expert in that field.
I found a way to break free of my
memories—I’ll help you do the same.”
Being the strong one in the relationship was a role I
wasn’t used to playing. But if I’d proved anything in the time
that Zach and I had been together, it was that I was capable of
handling more than I ever dreamed possible.
Time to put on
the leather catsuit and super hero cape. Super Girlfriend to the
rescue!
“It isn’t possible, Ruby. But thanks for trying. Meeting
Lucas, remembering your talk with Lee while you were dying—
those are the only reasons that you got past it all. Those are
opportunities I’ll never have.”
His negativity nearly knocked the wind right out of me.
Where was the sunny, optimistic Zach that I used to know?
Was he always this bleak and devoid of hope?
How was it
possible for someone that I was so very close to to keep this
much pain hidden beneath the surface for so long?
He was
more like me than I ever could have imagined. But I wasn’t
going to let him drown alone in that cesspool of despair. At the
very least, I would inflate us both a raft so that we could drift
through it together.
“It
is
possible,” I declared confidently. “It’s just
impossible for you to see that now.
I know that the way I
solved this problem isn’t a viable option. We’ll come up with a
different way—something that works for you, okay?”