Desolate (10 page)

M
onday came all too soon
and I was nowhere near understanding what had occurred on Friday night. When Weston was around, my whole body tingled and my mind turned to mush, but the nerves always got the better of me and I had no clue how to stop it. They were getting better, but I didn’t know how I felt about the feelings I got when he was around. The toughest part about those feelings was that I had no one I could ask. No one that I could turn to when things got tough to lean on. There was only me, and my mind was nowhere near being in the best shape to give my own self advice. He confused me to no end, and I didn’t know what I would do regarding how I felt when he was around, but I did know one thing. I wasn’t quite ready for what I felt for him, and I didn’t know how to stop it.

While I cleaned today, I’d decided that the best course of action would be avoidance. That was until I could figure everything out in my mind. I checked the time and realized that Weston and Clyde should be returning soon. I went out to the barn and got Shadow ready for our daily ride. Today was extra chilly, and I made sure that I grabbed my thick socks and the biggest coat I could find. I couldn’t get the chill out of my body, and I stayed wrapped up in sweaters all day; which was odd for me considering I was always hot-natured.

Shadow and I reached our hill and I hopped off, both of us walking over to the bench. She knew the routine just as well as I did. Only today she lay down at my feet and looked out over the horizon with me, instead of grazing or seeking attention the way that she normally did. The moment we’d gotten settled, I allowed my mind to be free of all thoughts, taking in the scenery and the feeling this place evoked inside of me.

I was so lost in thought that when I felt something graze my hand, I almost jumped out of my own skin. If it weren’t for the fact that I recognized the spark that coursed through me, I probably would’ve screamed. Taking a deep breath, I turned toward the person sitting beside me. So much for avoiding him.

“I figured lightly grazing your hand was safer than speaking,” he stated with the sly grin that I’d grown accustomed to seeing when he spoke to me.

“You’re probably right, even though you still scared me a little.”

“I just can’t win. I think I’m just destined to scare you when I come around,” he laughed as he put his arm on the back of the bench and turned toward me. I made sure that I still had a tight hold on Shadow’s reins as I mimicked his posture and turned toward him, resting my left hand under my cheek to hold up my head.

“Nah. It’s kinda funny when you think about it. Even if my heart gets a workout every time you’re around,” I joked back, attempting to keep the mood light.

“Clyde told me where I might find you. I wanted to see you before I left for the day. I hope you don’t mind, but I do have a few questions for you. I wanted to make sure it was okay to ask them before I sprung them onto you.” So much for keeping the mood light, but in a way I knew it was coming and it needed to be dealt with regardless.

“Ask away,” I nervously responded, already knowing what he was going to ask, but fearing the questions at the same time.

“Where’s your husband?” he whispered after a brief pause, causing my breath the hitch in my throat as he looked over to the rings on my left hand. I knew he was going to ask, and I should’ve been better prepared.

Without taking too long to answer, I whispered the only response that I could think of. The truth. “Heaven.” The moment the lone word was out of my mouth I turned my head away from his stare, not wanting to see his reaction to my confession. The only response that I received from my answer was the gasp that escaped him when he heard my answer.

“That wasn’t what I was expecting you to say. I just thought you moved here to escape a bad breakup or something.” The shock in his voice gave away that he didn’t know what else to say.

“Hence, the reason I’m not used to being around people. It’s all too hard. The constant explanations that people want, then the accompanying pity that I’d get when they learned the truth. I didn’t want any of that when I moved here. I’d gotten that much from where we lived. So when I moved here, I vowed to stay away from people. It was easier than the alternative in my mind. Now I’m partially regretting that logic because I’d gotten used to only being around Clyde, and I don’t quite know how to respond to people anymore,” I confessed, wanting this conversation to be over with.

“I’m so sorry for your loss. I’d ask what happened, but I can tell you don’t want to discuss it. So, I’ll just put it out there that when you’re ready, I’ll be here to listen.” The gentleness of his voice making me feel comforted when all I really wanted was the comfort of my own bed at the moment.

“What’s your other question?” I asked, hoping to hurry this along so I could get back home. The chill of the afternoon air had made me colder than I was before I arrived to my special place.

“I don’t really know how to ask it now. After hearing your response to the other question, I’m thinking I should wait to ask,” he replied as he looked away from me.

“Hey. There’s no time like the present. Why don’t we get the hard questions out of the way so that we don’t have to revisit them,” I goaded, attempting to get him to fall for my ploy so that I’d never have to revisit the guilt that had crept up at the mention of my husband. I’d done a good job thus far in repressing the memories so they didn’t constantly choke me on a daily basis, and I didn’t want them to creep back in now.

He turned back toward me and grabbed both of my hands within his own. The mere touch of them started to warm the coldness that had graced my fingertips. He caressed each finger within his own hands, attempting to warm them as he prepared to ask the question that seemed more difficult for him to ask than the previous one.

“Here goes nothing. Um. So Friday when you saw my daughter for the first time, I got the impression that you feared the revelation that I had a child. Can you explain that to me?” That wasn’t quite what I thought was coming, but now the harder part of my revelation would begin. A part that I thought I’d get to hold near and dear to me for a little while longer. I licked my lips to settle my nerves before I confessed the other part of me that was missing.

“I told you that my husband, Andrew, was in Heaven. Well, so is my son, Liam. They both died about ten months ago,” The tears I tried to hold in fell down my face. This was why I didn’t want to be around people. They needed to know everything. Their curiosity always got the better of them. And now, he’d look at me differently. He’d treat me with fragile gloves which would eventually drive me to a point of madness. I didn’t know which was worse. The fact that I felt this way at having to confess my grief to him or the fact that instead of thinking about my husband and child I was more worried about how he’d handle the fact that I’d lost it all.

“Jesus,” he whispered as he pulled me closer to him, the warmth pouring off of his body as he held me as tight as he could. Today was only the fifth time I’d allowed myself to cry since I’d gotten here, and he’d seen the fourth time only a few days ago. It felt good to let out the emotion, but I feared what it’d bring in the long run. I couldn’t allow their memories to consume me ever again. They always managed to take hold and never let go. I’d just gotten to a place in my life where I attempted to live again, and I couldn’t afford to take any steps backwards.

“I honestly had no idea. I’d asked Clyde what brought you here, but he told me it wasn’t his story to tell. I’d never have guessed this in a million years. There are no words to express how sorry I am that you had to endure such a loss. No wonder you acted the way you did to the fact that I had a child,” he stated as his hands ran up and down my back.

He still had no unearthly idea as to the amount of grief I’d gone through in such a short time. And he probably never would. After today, I wouldn’t be surprised if he wanted nothing else to do with me. Better yet, I didn’t know if I’d want anything else to do with him. All I could think about right now was the fact that I was in his arms, allowing him to hug me and what that could possibly mean about how horrible of a person that I was.

My brain was riddled with a massive amount of questions and guilt, but for some reason I couldn’t allow myself to move. I needed the comfort that he was so easily giving, not having felt anyone hug me in a very long time. But what in the world did this all mean? And how would I handle it in the end? Would the grief win out over what I feared my heart wanted more? Or was it time to finally see how much I could allow myself to live again, consequences be damned?

As I was lost in the incessant amount of questions that my brain kept throwing at me, the loss of his warmth brought me out of my trance. Only I couldn’t lift my head to look at him. I didn’t want him to see me at my weakest yet again. I brought my hands up to wipe away my sorrows, but he moved them out of the way, his thumbs slightly grazing underneath my eyes to rid my face of the wetness of my grief.

“I have a feeling that you don’t know just how strong of a person you truly are,” he whispered as he moved closer, his breath caressing my cheek as he spoke the last few words. The sad thing was that he was right. Someone I’d had only brief encounters with had pegged me from the start, something else I had to fear. Just how well he could see right through me.

“I’m not strong at all. I only appear to be,” I confessed, still looking down at the bench. The sun had started to go behind the hills, indicating just how late it had become, only I didn’t want this feeling to end. The peaceful yet accelerating feeling I’d gotten from just being here with him.

“That’s where you’re wrong. I’m not sure a weaker person could’ve made it to the other side of such a loss,” he replied with a soft tone as he rested his arm on the back of the bench yet again and scooted his body so that his leg was flush against mine.

“Would a stronger person suppress her grief just so that she didn’t have to face it? Would a stronger person allow herself to suppress any memories of her husband and son just so that she could get through another day? I don’t really think so. That’s what I’ve done just so that I could have some semblance of a life. So I could gain the courage to leave our home and not look back,” I confessed, willing myself to not let another bout of tears fall.

“That doesn’t make you weak. That makes you a survivor in my eyes. You’ll face it all when you’re good and ready.”

All I could do was nod. If I spoke in that moment, I’d surely cry.

“Why don’t we head back? It’s getting late, and I need to be getting back to Grace before she drives my parents insane.” The second he mentioned his daughter his tone changed to the happy sound I was used to hearing.

“How old is she?”

“She’ll be three in a couple of months, but she’s going on twenty.” Instantly becoming the doting father at the mere mention of his pride and joy. I attempted to hide the sorrow I felt at his confession. There wasn’t much of an age difference between her and Liam, and it made me sad that I’d never get to experience any of the things he was about to experience with my little boy. I’d been robbed of so much.

“She does appear to be a little diva,” I replied, hoping like hell that I’d done a good job of suppressing my feelings. I didn’t care to explain any of them away just yet.

“That she is. That she is,” he replied as he shook his head with laughter.

The rest of the walk home was light and cheerful, but the nagging in the back of my mind didn’t stray very far. Now the question was to act or not to act. Did I act on our apparent connection, or did I ignore it and hope like hell he’d do the same? Oh the dilemma that I faced.

T
his morning
as I woke to the sound of my alarm clock, all I wanted to do was to go back to sleep. Last night was a long night of contemplating. All I could think about was what Weston had said. He thought I was strong, but boy was he wrong. I was weaker than anything, especially now. I’m grown up enough to admit that I have gone about grieving the wrong way, but it was the only way I could think of to get me through it. Did that mean I forgot about Andrew and Liam? Hell no. It just meant that I put them in the back of my mind and kept them there. Now that he’d come into the picture, he was the reason that I’d been dredging up the past. Memories here and there of the man that I loved so dearly and the child I so desperately wanted to hold in my arms again came back every so often. When he’d asked me if I’d ever thought about talking to them, I wanted to laugh. Only every second of every day before I moved out here. But I didn’t want to have a conversation with them in the same sense he was referring to. I actually wanted to talk to them. In person. To be able to touch them and laugh with them as we ran through the events of our days together. But that would never happen. Hence why I suppressed it all. The emotion. The grief. But most of all the feelings that came along with both. You see, it wasn’t the emotion or the grief that got to me the most. It was the feelings that the grief and the emotion evoked within me when a memory would come to the forefront of my mind that choked me each and every time I turned around. That’s what I couldn’t handle. That’s why I’m still the weak woman that I am. Because I can’t fully face the deaths and the finality of the situation. I know I’m alone in this world. I’m reminded it of it constantly, but facing it is just too hard.

Now this man who didn’t know me from a hole in the wall wanted to help me apparently, but I didn’t know what to do with all of that. I’ve been so used to handling it all by myself that I didn’t know if I could let anyone else get close enough to help. Hell, Clyde has been here all along and I refuse to take his advice. I knew that more than enough time had passed, but I still wasn’t ready. Maybe one day I would be. But today nor tomorrow would be the day that I’d face it. That day still seemed as far off as I could imagine.

The alarm clock made itself known again with its annoying sound, and I knew that I’d laid there long enough. The coffee wouldn’t make itself and the horse wouldn’t magically get fed.

I took care of my morning routine and grabbed the robe off the hook on the back of my bedroom door, slinging it over my shoulders. The house was awfully chilly this morning, and I needed the extra coverage to make it down the stairs and into the kitchen. The furnace definitely needed to be turned up about ten notches.

Rounding the corner at the bottom of the stairs, I was shocked to see Weston already moving quietly around the kitchen and to hear the sound of the coffee starting to trickle into the pot. I silently grabbed my chest with one hand and covered my mouth with the other so he wouldn’t hear me. As the hammering of my heart began to slow, I moved both of my hands down to my sides and continued to watch him. The soft hum coming from him as he made himself at home brought a smile to my face but annoyed me at the same time. He wasn’t supposed to be making himself comfortable in any part of my home, let alone my kitchen. I wasn’t ready for any of this, especially the forward approach he was using to get to know me. I needed subtle. Better yet, I needed slower than subtle. I needed nonexistent while I figured it all out. Didn’t he know women needed time to process information and suggestions before the next one was thrown at them full fucking force? Apparently he hadn’t gotten that memo.

Without being able to take another second of watching him move around my kitchen, I cleared my throat as I walked into the room. This time he was the one who screamed. Like a girl for that matter. The high-pitched sound that came out of him reminded me of how girls sound when they were excited about the new boy band.

He turned around, his hand covering his chest as he bent over to calm his now racing heart. Moments later, he stood upright with a huge grin on his face.

“It looks like the tables have turned,” he replied through a laugh.

“That they have,” I countered, unamused because I knew just how it felt for your heart to be in your throat.

“What exactly are you doing here?” I sat down at the table, pulling the robe tighter around me and crossing my arms across my chest.

“I decided to come by a little early today. Be the one to make you coffee for a change instead of you getting up with the sun to do it for us. I have bagels in the toaster as well.” He picked up the pot of coffee and poured the steaming liquid into its awaiting cup.

“That’s nice of you, but you shouldn’t have done that,” I replied sternly, hoping that he’d get the underlying meaning in my tone.

“I just wanted to do something nice,” he replied with his lip poked out, pretending to be heartbroken in the process as he brought two cups of coffee over to the table.

He sat them down and walked back over to the counter just in time for the bagels to finish in the toaster. He grabbed them and put them onto plates along with the cream cheese he’d sat on the counter and carefully steadied all of the items in his hands while he walked slowly back over to the table.

“Here ya go, my lady.” He placed the bagels on the table and took the seat beside me.

All I could do was stare down at the plate and cup of coffee then back up to him. My eyes became dizzy with all of the rounds I’d made going back and forth between the items. Yes, the gesture was kind, but the question I wanted answered more than anything was what his motive was behind it all. Why did he have this sudden need to even show gestures in the first place?

With the progress him and Clyde were making on the repairs, he’d be here another week tops and then he’d move on. Forget all about little old me. Just as he should. Then I could go back to my routine. My cleaning, my rides, and my refusal to acknowledge the grief within me.

“What’s wrong? Did I make something wrong?” he asked as he took a bite of his bagel.

“Not exactly,” I mumbled as I picked up the cup of steaming hot coffee and brought it to my lips.

Holy cow. He’d actually made the coffee just the way I did. Not too sweet. Not too bitter. Not too weak, but not too strong. And with a hint of the hazelnut flavoring that I loved so much. Kudos to you, Weston Corbin, for knowing how to make the perfect cup of coffee.

“You seem worried. What’s that expression for?”

“I just don’t get it. You confuse the daylights out of me. You ask odd questions and want to know random pieces of information. You show up before the sun comes up to make me a bagel and coffee. But why? For what? What do you get out of all of this? And why me of all people? Surely, you could find someone with fewer problems.”

“Wow. Oh ye of little faith. One question at a time, though. Okay. First off, I’m a good guy. I like doing nice things for people. With no ulterior motives. Just to be courteous. That’s how I was raised and my mama would kick my ass if I didn’t. Secondly, why not you? What makes you think you don’t deserve for someone to do something kind for you for a change? When was the last time that happened? And you can’t include Clyde. Thirdly, I get nothing but to see the smile and appreciation on your face because of said nice gesture. That’s all I need to get out of it. Nothing in return. There’s no hidden agenda. Just a nice gesture for a friend. I can call you a friend, right?”

“I can’t remember when the last time someone did something nice for me aside from Clyde. It was before I moved here, that’s for sure. But I don’t like thinking about that time in my life so I don’t even want to attempt to try and figure the answer to that question out. I never said I didn’t deserve it, but most of the time you don’t hear about the people who are so lost in their own bubble having nice things done for them. And I’m so far in that bubble that I don’t think you’d reach me if you popped it. I guess I’m just not used to having anyone do anything for me other than Clyde, and I’m not sure if I like it or not yet,” I confessed, not feeling even slightly better after I’d given him the best answer I could muster up.

“And that’s the problem. You can’t forget about your past in order to live in the future. You have to embrace it. The good and the bad so that you can move forward and be able to live the life you deserve. And from the sounds of everything you’ve been through, you deserve some happiness after all of the darkness that you’ve experienced,” he replied.

“That’s very deep of you. But I think I happen to like living in my dark bubble over here. It’s much safer,” I cautiously replied, hoping that he’d drop this insane conversation.

“What’s the fun in being safe? Live a little. As a matter of fact, you should live a lot. Way more than what you’ve been doing. You’ve got what? Ten months to make up for right. You don’t have to go making big strides in doing so. Just little steps until you feel comfortable with making bigger ones,” he suggested.

Hell I didn’t feel comfortable making the small steps, let alone even attempting the big steps. I didn’t see anything wrong with living in my safe haven. And maybe that was the problem. I’d enabled myself to form the bubble in the first place, therefore making so I couldn’t allow myself to live.

“I get what you’re saying. I honestly do, but there’s one problem with everything you’ve suggested. I like my bubble of darkness. I like being on my own, not needing anyone’s help. Why should I step outside of it? What’s in it for me if I do? Better yet, what reason do I have to even contemplate moving outside of it?” I countered, hoping like hell he didn’t have a comeback so we could drop this insanity.

“Don’t you see? You’ve already stepped out of it. Several times. You’ve gone out in public twice that I know of in the past couple of weeks. You’ve had numerous conversations with me in that same amount of time. You’re already stepping outside of your comfort zone, and you didn’t even realize it. How about this? We could start by getting you to do something that doesn’t require you to leave the house. What’s one thing that you haven’t done since you moved here that you used to love doing? One thing that wouldn’t even require us to move from this table?”

I didn’t want to answer that. It would dredge up too many memories. But maybe he was right. Maybe I needed to take these steps, ones that appeared small to him but were actually huge for me, in order for me to want to live again. I’d welcomed deaths door for so long I didn’t know how to walk away from just being on the other side of it.

“I loved music. Something that you take for granted on a daily basis, I can’t even fathom to listen to. It was such an integral part of my life that when I moved here I couldn’t allow it to be part of it anymore. I haven’t listened to one song since I shut the engine off in the driveway the day that I arrived. I couldn’t bear to hear the emotion in the lyrics. The heartbreak in the voices of the ones that sang the songs,” I confessed, not really wanting to open up this much to him but not seeing any other option.

Without even uttering a word, he reached in his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. He searched for a few moments and looked back up at me, appearing to have found what he was looking for.

“So how about listening to one song to move forward. Throw caution to the wind and get up and dance. Act crazy. But most of all just live in the moment. Not thinking too much into anything. Just be,” he replied, my heart hammering even harder with each passing second.

Within seconds, a song that I hadn’t heard before was playing from the speaker of his phone. Before I could even blink or register what was about to occur, he jumped up out of his seat and started acting like a fool all around the room. Neal McCoy’s
The Shake
continued to play as he shook his entire body and danced all around the room, finally ending back in front of the table by the end of the first chorus.

With his hand held out to me, he all but demanded, “Come on, pretty lady. It’s time to start living and having fun. One crazy moment at a time.”

Oh, he was crazy all right. If he thought for one second I would do anything that he’d just done in front of him. Without anyone around and if I still listened to the radio, then maybe. But I’d be in the confines of my own home with no one around. Not in front of someone I’d just met looking like an idiot.

All I could do was shake my head frantically at him as he grabbed ahold of my hand and pulled me out of the chair, the entire time he hadn’t stopped shaking his body in one way or another. Whether it was his head, his legs, or his hips. He looked absolutely ridiculous, causing me to try and hold in my laughter.

“Come on, Magdalena. Show me you haven’t forgotten how to have fun. Let’s dance. Get your body to wake up,” he coaxed as he grabbed ahold of my other hand and started to move my body for me. It was hard for me to not admit that just watching him was infectious and made me want to join him. Finally, after his incessant moving of my body, I pulled my hands from within his own and started to barely shake along with the music, but he wasn’t having it. He held up his pointer finger and shook it back and forth while shaking his head side to side.

“You gotta let loose or it doesn’t count.” He knew he wasn’t giving me another choice but to comply with him, as he raised his hands in the air and waved them around like a lunatic, shimmying his chest at the same time. He really went all-out when he set his mind to achieving something.

“What the hell?” I whispered to myself as I threw caution to the wind, laughing right along with him as my body shook to the words of the song.

When the part of the song arrived that named different locations, a throat clearing off in the distance broke me out of my dancing haze.

“It’s about damn time,” Clyde said in the doorway to the kitchen that led from outside. The gust of wind that came along with him opening the door caused me to pull the robe tight around me and tuck the hair that had fallen into my face behind my ear.