Escaping Me (2 page)

“Relax,” she grins. “I'm just trying to help.”

“
Thanks.” I take her advice and relax, letting her rub out the knots I can feel below the skin.  I’m not very close with my sister—or my mom for that matter.  The fact that I called and asked to visit for the summer shocked them as much as it shocked me.  After I ended things with Wesley, I went to the one place I knew he wouldn't be caught dead.  He wouldn't trade his cushy city life for the country.  I didn't think I would either, but things change.  “I can't believe I was so stupid,” I groan.

“
You'll be fine.  Shit happens.” She laughs.  That statement sums up Mallory in a nutshell.  What I know about her is that she is about as easy-breezy as they come.  She is laid back and doesn’t give two shits about what people think—the complete opposite of me.  It is probably the fact that she was raised by our equally easygoing mother and I was raised by our “we have standards to uphold” father.  Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if I'd stayed with Mom.  It is almost impossible to imagine—me not caring about everyone else's opinion.  I am Whitney Vandaveer, doting daughter, loving and supporting girlfriend, Dean's list recipient—all I know is how to care about what other people think.

“
Glad you're awake,” my mother chimes as she walks into the room and motions for me to sit up.  She falls onto the sofa behind me and pulls the rag off my neck that she must have placed there when she found me unconscious.  She cradles my head back in her lap and strokes my hair.  I have a quick flashback of her doing the same thing when I was little.  It’s been a long time since I’ve let her fawn over me.  I'm a little surprised by how comfortable my mom and sister are around me.  Sure we all talked, but occasionally at best.  As soon as I moved in, though, they started acting like I'd never been gone.  It was a little surreal, but I was enjoying how easily we fell into our relationships.

“
Sorry you had to find me like that. I'm sure I scared you,” I apologize, looking up at her blue eyes.  The same blue eyes that were passed on to me and my sister, along with our hair color and athletic builds.  Our mother was apparently quite the jock back in high school.

“
You did scare me, baby girl,” she acknowledges. “But I wasn't the one who found you.”

I glance up at her with confusion.  Then I look at my sister.

“Wasn't me.” She tosses her hands up.

“
You should have seen the tall drink of water that toted you into the house.  He was pretty easy on the eyes, if you know what I mean.” She waggles her eyebrows.

“
Omigod, Mom!” Mallory protests.  “Don't ever do that again.”

I can’t help but laugh when my mother throws her head back and cackles.

“Seriously, Mom.” Mallory rolls her eyes. “Don't try to be a cougar.”

“
Quit it.” She shakes her head.  “I'm not trying to be a cougar.  I'm just trying to let Whitney know that it might be a good idea for her to track down Cole Pritchett and tell him thank you.”

“
Cole Pritchett?” I ask.  I’ve never heard the name, but it rolled off my tongue with ease. “Who's that?”

“
Never heard of him,” Mallory answers with a shrug.  “Must not be from around here.”

“
He was most definitely not a local,” my mother agrees.  “I'd remember a guy with tattoos and pierced ears.  He was yummy, Whit.”

“
No more romance novels, Mom,” Mallory cautions before letting her curiosity get the best of her. “But please continue.”

“
He was a little taller than six feet, a face to die for, and he lifted you up like you were a feather,” she grins.  “You looked so tiny in his arms,” she coos.

“
Sounds super hot,” Mallory adds.  I can’t disagree.  My mother just described every girl's dream of a bad boy.  Which is exactly what I don’t need in my life.  He sounds like he was cut from a very different cloth.

“
Are you saying it would be okay for me to go after some tattooed out-of-towner?”  I am baffled.  My dad almost had a stroke when I asked to get a tattoo for my eighteenth birthday and now Mom is telling me to go after my 'yummy' rescuer to thank him, with suggestive eyebrows and all.  This place is the Twilight Zone.

“
Might do you some good,” Mallory interjects.  “The last pretty boy didn't fare so well for you.”  I filled Mallory in the first night I got here.  We have a few years of sisterly bonding to catch up on.  Lucky for me, she was nothing if not loyal to her kin and hates Wesley as much as I do without even having met him.  She is a good sister.

“
I don't think I need any guy right now,” I smile.  My mom and my sister know the gist of what happened with Wesley, but I failed to mention that the incident had crushed me beyond recognition.  I try to keep the front that I am handling my situation appropriately, but there hasn’t been a night yet that I haven’t cried myself to sleep.  He broke me.  Wesley was the only person I actually let my guard down around.  I didn't think there was any way he'd hurt me the way he did.  I should have remained unattached, the way I was raised to be, but Wesley's sweet words and promises made it so easy to love him, and it didn't help matters that we were seen as the
perfect couple
.

“
I think that's a good idea,” my mom notes.  “You need to take the summer and figure out who you are, Whitney.  Not who your father and everyone else thinks you should be.”

I sigh.  “He's not that bad, Mom.”  My mother and father's divorce was messy.  I always thought my mom was weak for not following my father to the city, but after what Wesley did to me, maybe she is stronger than I gave her credit for.

“I'm not saying he's a bad guy, Whit.  I just think his views of the world are little askew now,” she confesses.  “He wasn't always like that, you know?”  My sister and I both catch the way the corners of her mouth turn up as she reminisces.  “When we first started dating, he was sweet and kind, and he loved it here.”  She looks around the room, trying not to let on that she is still heartbroken that he'd left.  I still didn't understand why she didn't just go with him.  “Anyway,” she said to shake off her nostalgia. “You've been under his roof for a long time.  Now, you're under mine, and I say that you need to spend the summer having a little fun.  You're too young to be expected to be perfect.”  Mom slides out from behind me and makes her way into the kitchen.  I can smell whatever it is she was cooking up, and after the day I've had, I am starving.

“
I agree,” Mallory pipes up.  “This summer is all about you... and me,” she adds with a giggle.  “I've waited a long time to have my sister live with me and we are going to spend some quality time together.”

“
That sounds perfect,” I chuckle.  “And just what I need.  I've had my fill of guy drama for the year.”  I place my hand on hers and give it a little squeeze.  “I could use a little sister time.”  I haven’t planned on doing anything other than wallowing in self-pity this summer, but my sister has other ideas.   Maybe if I go along with her summer plans, I’ll be able to loosen up a bit. 

“
Don't forget about your dear old mom!” Mom bounces into the living room with two plates of food that she sits down on the coffee table in front of us.  “I'd like to spend a little time with both my girls.”

“
Of course.” I sit up, grab a fork, and take a big bite of the homemade spaghetti she brought in.  “If you cook every meal like this I'll spend a lot of time with you,” I add with a mouthful of food.

“
Deal!” she agrees before going back and grabbing her own plate.

We spend the next couple hours the same way—the three of us on or around the sofa, trading gossip, hair tips, and the few memories we have of the three of us together.  I may have come back to this farm house to escape my old life, but for the first time in a few weeks, I am kind of looking forward to the summer.

“You were right,” I say and point to the wedding picture in the album my sister pulled down off the bookshelf.  “You two did look happy.”

“
We were.” She smiles fondly, running her finger over the picture.  What looked like a perfect beginning—an outdoor country wedding, my mom in white lace as she stared up into my father's adoring eyes—ended only six short years later. 

“
What happened exactly?” I ask, knowing only what I've been able to piece together as a small child and what I overhead the “adults” talking about through the years.

She looks up and stares at my sister and me momentarily, like she wants to make sure she chooses her words correctly.  “We changed.  Mistakes were made.”  She sighs. “Sometimes things just don't work out the way you thought they would.”

Mallory and I both nod.  I think we both realize that this is something my mom still has a hard time talking about.  I can understand where she is coming from.  My love life definitely didn’t turn out the way I thought it was going to.  I should be enjoying summer vacation on a beach somewhere with my boyfriend.

“
Who's this?” Mallory asks, pointing to the man standing next to my father.  The corners of his eyes are creased and a smile is on his face as he stares at his two friends on their wedding day.

I recognize him.  “I remember him. Uncle Vince, right?”  I am surprised that I recall his face.  Seeing it brings back a flood of memories—him toting me around on his shoulders, working in the yard with my dad, and countless times sitting at our kitchen table.  “Whatever happened to him?”

“He moved,” she answers shortly.

“
He was so much fun.” I turn to my sister.  “I remember him always making you and dad laugh.”

“
He did,” Mom chuckles.

“
I don't remember him.” Mallory shrugs, turning her attention to a photograph of the two of us dressed as scarecrows for Halloween.

“
You wouldn't,” my mom replies.  “He left right before you born.”  My mother clears her throat.  I think the trip down memory lane is taking its toll on her.  She closes the photo album and walks over to the shelf to return it to its rightful place.  Back to the place where it can’t remind her of the husband, daughter, and friend she lost somewhere along the line.  At least for the time being, she has one of us back.

“
That's enough of the past.” She turns to us and smiles.  “Let's talk about how Miss Whitney is going to repay that cute boy for saving her life today,” she grins, returning to the sofa and wrapping her arms around my and Mallory's shoulders.

Chapter 4 – Cole

I pull the leather glove off my right hand and open the cold bottle of water my new boss, Hank,  tossed to me in passing.  After gulping down a huge drink, I pour the remainder over my head, washing away a little of the sweat and sawdust.  I've been stacking boards for the better part of two hours and there is zero air conditioning in our warehouse.

“How's your first day going?” One of the guys I am working with comes over to where I am standing and drops down to sit on an overturned bucket.  I give him the once-over and decide that he seems like an okay guy.  His sweat-soaked shirt lets me know he is a hard worker so I can forgive the fact that he is overdue for a haircut.  My grandma would say that he looks like a hippie.  That being said, she often refers to me as a thug because I chose to pierce my ears and get a few tats.

“
Beside it being hotter than a welder's ass crack in here, I'm good.” I laugh.

He chuckled. “Yeah, this heat wave is crazy.  The spring is usually a lot cooler than this.  I'm Zeke, by the way.”  He starts to stand and reaches out a hand.

“Cole.” I meet him halfway.

“
So, Cole, how did you end up slinging lumber out here?” he asks as he takes his seat back on the bucket.

“
That's a long story.” I shake my head.  I’m not really in the mood to discuss my criminal past.  The last thing I need is to have this guy spreading the word that I am no good.  I'm sure before too long I'll give in to my fist-throwing ways and they'll all know that I am trouble.  Until then, I am going to appease Finn's wishes and try to stay out of trouble.  “My brother knows Hank.  He said he was looking for workers and I guess I fit the bill.”

“
I see,” he nods.  “Well, welcome aboard.  Find me when your shift’s over.  I'm heading over to Pauly's for a drink.”

That sounds about right.  Work, drink, sleep.  I can do that.  “I'm going to assume that Pauly's is a bar.”  He nods in confirmation.  “Sounds good, man.”

As soon as he walks away, I start questioning my decision to go have a drink with him.  Do I really need to make friends in this town?  The shit back home will blow over soon enough and then I can get back to my regularly scheduled life.  Not to mention the fact that in a small town the bar is like the church that's open during the week—everyone in town hangs out there.  What if she shows up?

I haven’t been able to shake Whitney from my mind, which is becoming increasingly harder to make sense of seeing as how I didn't even talk to her.  She is probably a grade-A bitch.  Just like the rest of 'em.  I tried to be boyfriend material once with Megan, and that blew up in my face.  Just like staying on the right side of the law, finding a woman that isn’t batshit crazy somehow always eludes me.  That's why I prefer the one-night stands I drum up when I have an itch that needs scratching.