Текст книги "Storms Over Secrets"

Автор книги: J. A. DeRouen

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

“I don’t know, I don’t know,” she sobs. “He left early this afternoon in the truck. He said he needed to pick up a few tools at the hardware store. It’s been hours, and he’s still not back. I knew he shouldn’t drive anymore, but I was afraid of how he’d react if I took away his keys. And n-n-now he’s m-m-missing.”

“Stop, Granny, you don’t know that. He probably stopped by the Melancon Farm to shoot the breeze with Mr. Larry or something. I’m gonna swing by there on my way to the house. I’m headed there now,” I say with the calmest tone I can muster as I fire up my truck.

“Yes, he could be there. That’s a good idea, Cain.” She releases a pent up breath.

“I’ll see you in a few. We’re gonna find him, Granny. He’s fine, I know it.”

“The Space Between” by Dave Matthews Band

Present Day

I TURN INTO the driveway after coming up empty at the Melancon’s, feeling dread deep in my bones. I’m gonna find him, no matter what.

I throw the truck in park and notice a familiar Buick pulling up behind me. I don’t give it a second thought as I race up the stairs and find my mom and grandmother clutching to each other at the kitchen table.

“No luck at the Melancon farm. Any word?” I ask, shifting from one foot to the other, way too much nervous energy pulsing through my body to sit down.

“Not yet,” my mom offers. “Will and Mo split up to hit as many places as possible. We’ve searched everywhere … we’re running out of ideas.”

Celia races past me, and Granny immediately wraps her in a tight embrace. “I’m so sorry, Granny. What can I do? How can I help?”

“I’m so scared, Celia.” Granny’s voice cracks with the admission. “What if he’s lost and confused somewhere? What if he’s afraid? This is all my fault for letting him drive.”

“Oh no, you don’t. This is not your fault. No one is to blame here,” Mom says in a stern voice.

“We’ve looked everywhere I can think of. I’m not sure where to go from here.” Granny’s slumped shoulders and hanging head scream defeat, but I won’t give up.

“I can’t just stay here. I have to help,” I say as I head for the door. “I’ll call Mo and Will and see where they’ve already checked. The more people looking for him, the better.”

“Wait,” Mom calls out before I close the door. “Take Celia with you. Two heads are better than one.”

Great.

The last thing I need right now is Celia Lemaire anywhere in my vicinity, but it won’t do any good to argue with a distraught woman. So I give a quick nod and head out the door. If Celia plans on coming, she better follow me.

She catches up quickly and hops into the passenger seat of the truck. That works for me, because I don’t have the time to worry about her right now. All I can think about is Sarge.

I barrel down the country road as I dial Mo.

“Where to next?” I bark when Mo answers my call.

I take a sharp turn right at her response. Today, I plan on leaving no stone unturned.

The afternoon flies by in a blur, and dusk looms with still no sign of Sarge. I scrub my hands over my face, and my forehead hits the steering wheel.

“Where the hell could he be?”

Celia brushes a hand up my back and squeezes my shoulder. “We’ll keep looking.”

I huff in frustration and face her. “I’m all out of ideas, Celia. I don’t know where else to turn.”

Her eyes soften, and her lips turn down just as my phone rings. When I see Kimberly’s name on the screen, I groan.

“Fuuuuuuuck,” I growl, and then hit the TALK key. “Hey, there’s a little change of plans tonight. I won’t be able to make dinner.”

Celia stiffens and shifts to the far end of the truck. As crazy as it sounds, I feel like I’m betraying Celia by picking up the phone and talking to Kimberly.

“Oh, no you don’t, Cain Bennett. Tonight is our night. You aren’t backing out on me.” Kimberly skipped whiny today and moved on to downright hostile.

“My grandfather took off this afternoon, and we can’t find him. We’ve torn the town apart with no luck. I don’t know what else to do … or where else to go.” It stings to say the words out loud, but the truth is, I’m beginning to lose hope. After hours with no sign of him, I’m starting to believe the worst.

Kimberly expels a loud huff. “Look, he’s gonna turn up, and everything will be fine. Old people do things like this, Cain. And didn’t you mention he has Alzheimer’s? He’ll snap out of it and show up at home like nothing happened.” Just when I think her version of a pep talk is over she starts up again. “He’ll turn up, and our night will be ruined for nothing. We made these plans over a week ago, and I’m not canceling them.”

What. The. Fuck?

I fling open the truck door and slam it with enough force to shake the cab. I pace the length of the truck in an attempt to rein in my temper, which is dangerously close to boiling over. Kimberly’s selfishness and complete lack of concern floors me.

“I’m pretty damn sure my night is already ruined, Kimberly, since my grandfather is fucking missing!” I roar into the phone. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t dismiss my feelings and my family crisis and get back to it. I’ll be sure to phone you when we find him. It’s fucking obvious how concerned you are for him and for me.”

I hang up before she responds. It’s for the best. No words will make up for her callousness. I spend a few extra moments outside to calm down. When I open the truck door and see Celia’s wide eyes, it’s obvious she heard every word I said.

“Don’t,” I warn, and she nods in response. I need to clear my head of the bullshit and focus on Sarge. I’m not interested in Celia’s commentary on Kimberly, now or ever. “How did you end up at Granny and Sarge’s house anyway?”

She jerks at my question, her spine stiffening in defense. I have a right to know, whether she agrees or not. They’re my family, and excuse me if I’m feeling a little protective of them right now.

“Granny and Lila both called me,” she explains, wringing her hands in her lap. “Sarge and I … well, we spend a lot of time together.”

“Is that right?”

“He’s my friend,” she whispers softly.

“Don’t you think it’s odd that you’ve welcomed every one of my family members into your life, except me?” The question, its implication and the harshness of my tone, fly out of my mouth before I have a chance to censor it.

“You don’t like my terms.” A shuddered breath releases from her lips, and her watery eyes meet mine. “For someone like me, with no family left, they’ve come to mean so much to me. I never want to lose them, but I understand if you want me to stay away.”

I shake my head as I dial the phone. She cuts me down to size with one sentence. God, I feel like such an asshole. “They love you as much as you love them. I’d never ask that of you.”

Her shoulders relax as I call Mo and place the phone on speaker. The ringing fills the cab, and Mo picks up right away.

“Any luck?”

It’s clear by her tone she’s come up empty, too.

“None. It’s time for a fresh start. We need to comb Granny’s brain for more places to look.” I rub my burning eyes, feeling as if I’ve aged ten years today.

“Where would you go?” Mo asks. “Where is the first place you’d go, Cain?”

“That’s easy. The pond. It always clears my head, and I have so many good memories of the place. That’s where Sarge taught me to fish, where I had my first kiss … we’ve already looked there, Mo.”

“Wait, has anyone checked Highway 88?” Celia asks with wide eyes.

“What the hell is on Highway 88?” Mo shouts through the phone.

“The oak tree where he proposed to Granny … among other things. Not the point—he mentioned to me he goes there when things get rough. It’s his thinking place.”

“I’m calling Granny,” I say.

“Hurry,” Mo says before I end the call and start dialing.

For the first time this afternoon, I feel a spark of hope.

The gravel and dirt crunch under the tires as I turn off the main road. Sugarcane towers over us on both sides as we drive forward. The red glint of a truck tailgate is barely visible next to the sprawling branches of the imposing oak tree. It stands regally in the back corner of the field, far away from the road.

I never would have found it on my own.

“Thank God,” Celia breathes when she notices his truck.

I park behind him and kill the engine. He’s sitting on a large rock, head hung low and shoulders slumped. I shoot off a text to Mom before getting out of the truck.

We got him.

He never looks up as we approach. He slices the outer layer of the cane stalk in his fingers and hands a piece to Celia when he cuts off a chunk. She sidles up next to him and pops the cane into her mouth.

“Thank you,” she mumbles while gnawing on the sweet stalk.

“Lots of people worried about you, old man.” I reach out and take a chunk of cane from his outstretched hand. The sweet juice bursts in my mouth as I chew.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that.” He continues to cut at the stalk. “I needed a minute—just me and the memories. I feel them slowly slipping away.”

His voice cracks with emotion, and it’s a knife to my gut. This is my tough as nails grandfather. Cross him, and he’d just as soon punch you as look at you. But today, he’s all out of fight, and it hurts.

Emotion clogs my throat, strangling any words of encouragement I may have. I give Celia a helpless glance. She smiles at me as she fiddles with the pendant around her neck. If anyone needs St. Jude’s help today, it’s Sarge.

Celia bends down to meet Sarge’s lowered eyes. “Memories get me through the hard times. They anchor me … keep me grounded to this life. Sometimes, it seems memories are all I have left. I can’t imagine how it must feel to lose them. They seem to be written in chalk, slowly washing away over time, don’t they?”

Her words remind me of her truth—her insistence that we can never be. No matter how many times I hear it, it still hurts.

“It feels like I’m wasting away, like this body of mine is an empty shell. It’s a sick joke. My body is in perfect health, and my brain is rotting from the inside out. The fog in my mind keeps getting thicker every day, my words and thoughts sitting just out of my grasp,” Sarge says, outstretching his trembling hand.

“Your mind is your enemy, and time is mine. As the years pass, memories lose their color,” Celia says. She lays a soft hand on Sarge’s leg and giggles. “I’ll never forget the dog my Grams had when I was a little girl. She was the fattest rat terrier I’ve ever seen. In the evenings, Grams and I would sit on the porch swing, listening to the wind chimes and feeding the fat hound caramels. Her butt would drag the ground.”

Sarge chuckles. “Sounds like a great dog to me. Poor thing probably dropped dead of a heart attack with all she ate.”

“Oh, no. Myrtle lived long past her years. Myrt, Myrt, old as dirt. That’s what I would sing to her. She died in her late teens. A truck ran over her on one of her squirrel chasing missions. She could only drag her butt across the street so fast, ya know?” Celia shrugs with a playful frown. “Myrtle was a good dog. All thirty pounds of her.”

“Girly, who names a dog Myrtle? That’s an old lady name if I’ve ever heard one,” Sarge says.

Celia smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. She looks at me, and whispers, “She was an old soul.”

Memories of the last time she whispered those words slam right into my chest—a time when I could hold her … kiss her … feel everything that is Celia. My chest fills with the withered hope of falling for a heart that isn’t whole.

She breaks eye contact a moment later and focuses on Sarge. “So what if we make my weekly visit all about storytelling? We’ll each share our stories, and we can ask Granny to help if you get stuck. But each week, I’ll write them down for you so you can look back and read about all the wonderful moments. What do you say?”

Sarge gulps, swallowing a ball of emotion, and turns to me with a look of resolve.

“That’s a helluva woman, right there, son.”

I nod once and meet her blue eyes head on. “You’ve got that right, old man.”

He slaps both hands on his knees and stands. After a few steps toward the trucks, he turns and levels us with an impatient glare. “Come on you two, get the lead out your ass! Granny’s waiting.”

He sounds like his old, ornery self again, and I couldn’t be happier.

“Little Lion Man” by Mumford & Sons

Present Day

“PUT ON THIS frilly fucking dress and walk your pretty little ass next door before I get out my cattle prod,” Marlo orders with a popped hip and pursed lips.

“You own a cattle prod?” I deadpan.

I’m perfectly comfortable lying on the couch in my yoga pants, shoving chips down my gullet. Who needs to attend the party from hell? Not me, that’s for sure. I’ll call Alex and West and bid my farewells.

“I don’t have a cattle prod, but I do own a stun gun. I’m sure it will serve as a stellar replacement.” She crosses her arms. “You cannot hide from them. I won’t allow it.”

“How about I just hide from you,” I mutter.

Marlo huffs and pushes my feet out of her way before falling onto the couch beside me. “Take it from someone who is all too familiar with hiding. The box you’re building is smaller than you think, trust me on that one. It’s suffocating, and I don’t want that life for you. So I’m taking matters into my own hands. I apologize ahead of time.”

Her grabby hands wrap around the bottom of my tank top and rip it over my head. She fists the bottom of my yoga pants and pulls with an amazing amount of strength. One hand covers my boobs while the other clutches my panties to keep them from following my yoga pants down my legs.

I growl in frustration. “You are freakishly strong, woman.”

Once she shoves my dress over my head and crams my feet into high heels, she places both hands on my knees as she leans in with a slightly sadistic smile. “The rest can go one of two ways. You can put on a little makeup and jewelry and we’ll be on our way. Or I can hold you down and paint your face, hoping you resemble Faye Dunaway instead of Tammy Faye when I’m done. The choice is yours.”

I lean in and meet her, nose to nose. “You secretly hope I choose option two.”

“You bet your ass, I do.” She grins without apology.

I shove her to the side with a huff, appreciating her concern and cursing her tactics equally. No amount of makeup can hide my jealousy. Seeing Kimberly and Cain cozying up together is up there with a Brazilian wax on the “Things I Want to Do” list … so not at all.

“Out of my way, you tacky tyrant. I prefer perfect lip gloss when my heart gets ripped out of my chest … and I need just the right amount of dusting powder, too.” I stomp to the bathroom as Marlo chuckles behind me.

“By all means, this occasion definitely calls for a little fairy dust,” Marlo laughs.

“Where are my tiny rugrats? I want to tell Gage my newest joke,” Cain booms as he walks in to the kitchen.

“Oh no. Not after what happened with your last joke. Gage doesn’t need any more teacher’s notes sent home,” Sara scolds, one hand on her hip and the other pointing a spatula at Cain. “Besides, Caroline picked them up for a slumber party about an hour ago.”

He scoops her up into a bear hug and smacks a kiss on her cheek. “Looking good, Sara. Engagement agrees with you. I knew you were a keeper. Adam, on the other hand, I’m still on the fence about that fucker.”

Everyone laughs at Cain’s barb—well, almost everyone. Kimberly stands at the kitchen entrance, arms crossed and her face screwed up like she sucked on a lemon.

Yeah, this is going to be fun.

Cain moves on to Alex for more hugs and cheek kisses. “All packed up, girl?” he asks with a smile.

Alex wraps an arm around his waist and squeezes. “All set. New York in the morning.” She smiles and looks out the kitchen window onto the patio, where West and Adam are drinking their beers. “I can’t wait to show him all of my favorite places from when I was in school. I can’t erase the years we spent apart, but I feel like this is the next best thing, ya know?”

The women let out a collective sigh. As the room oohs and ahs over honeymoon plans and Sara’s preliminary wedding plans, my eyes refuse to veer from Cain. Worn jeans slung low and sunglasses set on top of his curly blond hair, he looks every bit the man who stole my heart in a fig field.

He stretches his hand out to Kimberly and smiles. “Join me out on the porch, babe?”

She places her hand in his and smirks, her eyes darting to me for only a second. Unbridled jealousy creeps up my spine like a deadly virus. I know all of this is my own doing, but my emotions don’t understand the logic. When it comes to the heart, love bows to logic every time. I’m filled to the brim with longing and regret. No, there’s no room for reason.

Marlo, Audrey, Alex, Sara, and I spend the evening huddled at the kitchen island, deep in wedding talk, honeymoon excitement, and even a bit of baby talk. Sara and Alex both are eager to add a baby carriage to the mix.

“I promise, I’ll make sure you both rock your delivery, you know that. But once I get that baby out of your vajayjay, I’m out. I’ll leave the babysitting duties to Celia, Audrey, and Caroline.” Marlo presses her lips together and shakes her head. “I don’t do babies. They freak me the fuck out.”

Alex throws her head back in laughter. “Well, get ready, Marlo. I’m a woman on a mission. I’m determined to make a honeymoon baby.”

“Hah, you want to talk about determination? My patient last night was a lesbian who got pregnant with a Monistat syringe and sperm she bought from Mexico. Now, that’s ingenuity,” Marlo says with a nod of her head. We all stare at her, slack jawed and speechless. “What? What did I say?”

“Please excuse the nursing talk. Sometimes, we forget how off-putting our commentary can be,” Sara explains, giving Marlo a pointed look. “That applies to Marlo even more than most.”

Marlo shrugs as Cain enters the kitchen. “I call ‘em like I see ‘em, my dear. And speaking of calling things like I see them,” Marlo says as she cranes her neck behind Cain, making sure Kimberly didn’t follow. “It’s time for you to take out the trash, my giant friend.”

Sara, ever the diplomat, clears her throat. “Do you need another beer, Cain?”

His eyes never leave Marlo, and the chill factor in the room drops to the point of uncomfortable. “Maybe if you gave her a chance, instead of ostracizing her, you might find she’s a nicer person than you think. You’d be surprised what you find when you give people a fucking chance, Marlo.”

The room is bathed in silence, but Marlo’s oblivious to the tone shift. She rolls her eyes and cocks her head.

“Honestly, I can’t get past her sour face to find out. What’s up with people who look like they smell dog shit all the time? I just don’t get it,” Marlo asks with a shrug.

A snicker releases from my lips, and I slap my hand over my mouth and cough in a futile effort to mask it. Cain turns and levels me with his eyes. It’s a look I’ve never seen from him before, and it sobers me.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Really, Celia?” Cain’s tone is low and menacing, and my name sounds like poison on his lips.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, looking away.

“You’re sorry? I don’t know why I’m surprised. Aren’t you always?” He shakes his head, looking exasperated with me. “I get that Kimberly has her faults, but she’s never drawn me in, time after time, only to push me away. She’s never given me the world, only to rip it away from me the next day. And, she would never, not fucking ever, tell me to stop loving her!” His voice booms through the air and ricochets through my heart, leaving rips and tears along the way. Cain inhales a deep breath and closes his eyes. “I think I’m done for today. I’ve had about all I can stand,” he says in a low voice, then turns on his foot and walks back to the patio.

When the door slams behind him, five pairs of questioning eyes land on me. My trembling hands grip the island as I stand, my breaths ragged and my eyes filling with inevitable tears.

“Excuse me, please,” I whisper, before turning away and running to the bathroom.

The floodgates open when the lock clicks in place, and I cover my mouth to muffle the sound. I struggle for control, knowing I can’t walk out of this bathroom until I get a hold on myself.

Hearing my friends gush about weddings, honeymoons, and babies takes its toll on my emotions. I want those things for them, and I’m so happy to be a part of their celebration, but what about me? I’m just so tired … so fucking tired of being the sad girl. When is it my turn to be happy? And why in the hell do I feel like I need permission?

Brewing anger at my impossible situation steels my determination and eventually dries my tears. I clean up as best I can, and make a plan to grab my purse and hightail it home as quick as freaking possible. When I open the bathroom door, collagen lips and pointy tits assault my vision.

Kimberly eyes me with a bored expression and rolls her eyes. “I see the way you look at him, you know? We both do.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I whisper, trying to move around her, but she blocks the hallway.

“We’ve laughed about how fucking pathetic you are. You see, Cain and I have something that you can’t compete with. We have history, and there’s nothing you can do to change that. I suggest you cut your losses and move the fuck on.” She raises her eyebrows and crosses her arms in challenge.

“I need you to move the fuck out of my way. We’re done here,” I say, my restraint in serious jeopardy.

She moves even closer, her minty breath curling my gut and her sweet perfume stinging my nose. “You’re absolutely right. You are done.”

“Kimberly, enough! It’s time to go,” Cain says, and we both jump at the sound of his voice.

His expression gives nothing away. I wonder how much of our conversation he overheard, or if it would even matter to him. And maybe Kimberly’s right. Maybe I am done as far as he’s concerned. After the way I treated him, I deserve to be dismissed from his life.

With the blink of an eye, Kimberly’s demeanor changes, and a shiver runs up my spine. The menacing girl from five seconds ago vanishes, replaced with an easy smile and loving eyes.

“Sure thing, babe. I’m ready to get you home,” she coos while sidling past him and running a finger along his chest.

Cain’s eyes linger on me, and I can’t look away. Love and pain war within me. Is there any truth to Kimberly’s words? Does he really make fun of me?

The moment is over as quick as it began, and he leaves me standing alone in the hallway. I wait until I hear the truck engine turn before making my way into the kitchen to say my goodbyes.

I slam Adam’s front door and hurry down the porch steps. I can’t get across the yard and into my house fast enough for my liking. Alex, Sara, and Marlo’s looks told me it wouldn’t be long before the questions started. Audrey’s face said something else entirely, and it’s even less welcome than the girls’ curiosity.

I hear the door slam and the sound of footsteps behind me. I don’t need to turn around to know who it is.

“Not now, Audrey,” I say over my shoulder.

“You lied to me,” she accuses.

“Oh God, Audrey, what? What did I lie about?” I keep walking, hoping she’ll take my not so subtle hint.

“Celia, stop!” She grabs my shoulder and forces me to turn around. “You told me it was just a fling. What I just witnessed was a helluva lot more than a fling, if you ask me.”

I exhale a ragged breath and resign myself to this conversation. Honestly, I’m resisting the urge to tell her it’s none of her goddamn business.

“What difference does it make anymore, Audrey? It’s over between us. He’s with Kimberly now.”

“It makes a big difference to me. You’re supposed to be with my brother, Celia. I mean, enough is enough!” She throws her hands in the air, exasperated.

I nod my head slowly, methodically, as I carefully craft my reply. “I couldn’t agree more. Enough is enough.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?’

“When is it over, Audrey? How long is my punishment? Is this a life sentence I’m serving, or do I get time off for good behavior?”

She jerks back, obviously taken off guard. “I didn’t realize Lucas was a punishment to you. I was under the assumption that you loved my brother,” she accuses, fuming.

“You know I love Lucas. But loving someone and being in love are two very different things. And have you ever wondered how Lucas feels about me?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Do you know how long it’s been since Lucas has kissed me? Hugged me? Told me he loves me? Years, Audrey. Fucking years! He’s no more in love with me than I am with him. How long can a person exist without touch … or affection of any kind?” I press my lips together and seethe with anger.

“I didn’t know…” Audrey whispers, looking more lost than she should. It makes me wonder how closely she paid attention all these years.

“You didn’t want to know!”

Her eyes flame at my accusation, my words putting her on the defensive. “Don’t make me out to the be the bad guy in all of this. I’m not the one who kept everyone in the dark. I didn’t hide his illness from everyone who loves him until he slit his fucking wrists!”

“And you’ll never let me forget it, will you?” I whisper with a finger pointed at her chest. There it is, the ugly truth, laid out in the open. When push comes to shove, she blames me, just like her parents. “I was seventeen fucking years old, Audrey. Does that one decision have to dictate the rest of my life? I will always regret the part I played, but I’m not the villain either. I didn’t give him schizophrenia, but I sure as hell have dedicated my life to helping him. But you don’t see that, do you? I’ll always be the girl who helped your brother attempt suicide.”

“Of course not, Celia! Look, I’m sorry for what I said—I’m just angry and confused by all of this. You’re my best friend. I love you like a sister, and I don’t understand where all of this is coming from. In my mind, it’s always been you and Lucas, and I don’t know, I don’t know what to say,” Audrey cries.

“There’s nothing left to say. Cain’s moved on with his life, so none of this even matters. He’s with Kimberly now, and I lost my chance. I can’t turn back the clock and love him the way he deserves, but I’ll be damned if I feel guilty when I think about him. Being with him made me feel more alive than I’ve felt in years. God, I could finally breathe, and laugh, and smile until my face hurt. Memories are all I have left, and I won’t let you ruin them.” I turn on my heel and keep walking to my house, craving the solitude for once.

“Celia, wait—” she cries out.

I shake my head and raise my arm to stop her. “Don’t, Audrey, just don’t. I want to be left alone.”

I slam my front door and inhale a breath so large, my lungs ache at the pressure. I blow out and suck in again with a smile. There are no tears tonight. Because, for the first time in as long as I can remember, I feel free from the lies … the regret … the chains.