Some Like It Wild (16 page)

TWENTY-SEVEN:
Laney

S
ummerton. It was always the perfect place for me. It was far enough away from my parents, but not too far. It was bigger than Greenfield, but not too big. It had stuff to do, but was still a good place to raise a family. It had more job opportunities for me
and
for Shane, yet it wasn’t so big we could never move up in the world.

What a difference a few short months makes!

I unlock the door to the apartment I’ve barely stayed in. I rented it shortly after getting my first job. I signed the lease for one year thinking that I would only need it for a short time. I figured Shane and I would be getting married within that year and then moving into our first home together.

Now, I look around the cute space—the bright eggshell walls, the cheerful yellow curtains, the comfy ecru couch with its yellow and white throw pillows—and I feel nothing but disappointment. With . . . everything. Nothing turned out like I thought it would. Not that I’d really want that version of my life now.

It didn’t take me long to realize I didn’t love Shane. Not really. He
seemed
like everything I wanted. He fit the description to a T. The problem was that, until recently, I didn’t know who
I
was, much less how to go about finding what would make me happy. I’d still love a husband and a family and a home to take care of, but all that has shifted to encompass so much more. Laughter, excitement, passion. True love.

But it’s looking like I’ll never have any of that. At least not the vivacious version that I felt for a few short weeks. I might be able to find some watered-down version of it with a man that will . . . do. But what girl ever dreams about going through an entire lifetime with a person she settled for?

Not me.

For the thousandth time, I hold back tears. I’ve mourned Jake enough for three or four lifetimes. I need to move on.

The problem is, I don’t know how.

There was no real ending. No closure. We just . . . stopped.

Would I rather have spilled my guts and had to watch Jake awkwardly try not to further crush me? No. But in a way, that would’ve been preferable. At least it would feel over. Final. Not like it does now. Every day, I wake up like I’m in limbo. I go through the motions of living, but I’m not alive at all. Not really. It’s like I’m stuck back in those weeks with Jake, the weeks when life held so much promise.

Now it just seems bleak.

Hopeless.

Empty.

TWENTY-EIGHT:
Jake

W
hen the lawyer’s office called to tell me they were sending someone out, I should’ve asked who it was. But I didn’t. Maybe I didn’t want to expect Laney. Or maybe I didn’t want to
not
expect her. I’m not sure which is worse.

But now, waiting on the porch, I wish I’d asked. The anticipation is killing me.

I’ve thought of what I’ll say. I’ll congratulate her on her engagement and ask if they’ve set a date. That will tell me if it’s legit. Then I’ll ask if he makes her happy. If she says yes, I’ll move on. There’ll be no reason to ever think of Laney Holt again.

If only I can manage to get her out of my head. Out of my blood.

But what has me on pins and needles is wondering what I’ll say if she says no. What if he doesn’t make her happy? What if she’s reconsidered and realizes that she can’t live without me? Then what will I say? What will I do? Nothing has changed for me. Not really. I’m still bad for her. I’m still bad for anyone to get close to.

But damn, how I want to!

Never has my past haunted me like this. Like a demon. Like something I can’t shake no matter how hard I try.

Probably because I’ve never tried before. I’ve never wanted to be anything other than who I am. Who I was.

Until now.

Until Laney.

But that doesn’t seem to change anything, either.

Disappointment sets in when I see a shiny black sedan making its way along the driveway toward me. Even if Laney had gotten a new car, she’d never get something like this. This is an old, stuck-up, rich-guy car. And Laney is none of those things.

When it pulls to a stop in front of me, I’m already out of patience for the visit.

I guess I really
should’ve
asked if Laney would be coming.

Now, I’m just cranky.

The driver’s side opens and a tall, heavyset, white-haired man gets out, tugging on his vest then buttoning his jacket.

Pretentious.

He leans into his car and brings out his briefcase then closes the door and walks toward the porch. “You must be Jake. Robert Wilkins, but you can call me Bob.”

His handshake is firm, but his smile is pleasant. He’s much less of an asshole than I expected. Nice surprise.

“Come on in,” I say, turning for the front door.

“We can stay out here if it’s all the same to you. There’s something about a big porch and fresh country air . . .” He inhales deeply and unbuttons his jacket as he lowers himself into one of the four straight-backed rockers. “So, young man, you’ve had a lot on your plate lately. How you holding up?”

I shrug, which aggravates the shit out of me. I never used to do that. I never used to feel like I didn’t know exactly what I was doing, where I was going, and what I wanted. Until now.

And now, all those things seemed to be wrapped up in one person that I can’t have and shouldn’t want.

“I’m okay. Just ready to get this over with. Obviously, I’m willing to do whatever is necessary to keep the orchard with me and Jenna.”

“Well, it’s looking like the gods are in your favor.”

“And why is that?”

“Your aunt’s attorney contacted me this morning, shortly after I filed the inventory. It seems her husband has come into quite a bit of money and they’ll be leaving the county, which means she’d have to hire someone to run the operation here if she were to gain a controlling interest. Evidently, that just wasn’t very appealing to her, so she has submitted that she’d like to revert to an arrangement similar to what she enjoyed with your parents. Just a monthly sum that’ll be deposited into her account. No real say in the day-to-day operations.”

While that’s definitely good news, I hate to have her involved in this place in
any
way. Who’s to say she won’t pull this same stunt again if Turkey (her husband) loses his ass out there?

Nobody. So it’s up to me to do what I can to prevent it.

“I’m glad she’s found some other means of making money in life, but you’ll understand if I’m not comforted by her rash decision. She could just as easily come back at a future date and try this again.”

Bob nods. “Which is why I would suggest that you make an offer to buy her out with one lump sum. You’ve got some valuable assets that you could probably part with and not feel the sting of it quite so much, if you get what I mean.”

“Yes, I do. What did you have in mind?”

Bob proceeds to explain to me that there is a small tract of land, deeded to the orchard but not actively used, which has quite a bit of value simply because of its situation in regards to the river and the national forest. “If you had that appraised and then offered her the proceeds from the sale of that tract as an incentive to let you and this place alone, why, I think she’d likely take that deal and run. We could have her sign away all past, present, and future rights for the amount of the sale.”

This is a sly old man. I can see it in the twinkle of his sharp brown eyes. Meeting him and spending a little time with him leaves me in no doubt as to why my parents felt safe leaving their possessions and their legacy in his hands.

Just over an hour after his arrival, Bob is shaking my hand and heading back to his car. Strangely, I’m glad he came. As much as I’d have liked to see Laney, it’s better this way. And now, there’s a plan for handling my aunt, Ellie, and possibly being completely free of her in the future.

Now if only my own future was so clear-cut . . .

TWENTY-NINE:
Laney

M
y cell phone rings. I sigh when I look down to see Shane’s number pop up. Never would I have thought I’d be friends with him again, but when there’s no one else, sometimes a familiar face is a welcome face.

“Hello?”

“Hey, beautiful. How about some lunch?”

I sigh again. He hasn’t given up giving me the full-court press. He swears he’s going to win me back. I keep telling him I’m just not ready and that I might never be, but still he persists.

But then there’s the loneliness that plagues me . . .

“Sure. Where can I meet you?”

“I’ll pick you up at one.”

I glance at my watch. That’s about six minutes from now. “Okay, see you then,” I say before hanging up.

I sit staring at the blank screen. The office is quiet around me. Bob is hard at work trying to free Jake and his family from his greedy aunt.

He didn’t tell me until after the fact that he’d gone to Greenfield to meet with him. That was almost two weeks ago. Two weeks since my last chance to see Jake flew right on by without me even knowing about it.

Now there’s just a constant ache and an ever-present sense of melancholy that I can’t shake. It’s like nothing that used to matter is very important anymore, and nothing that used to make me happy even gets me out of bed.

My parents have called dozens of times. I always answer and chat with them, but they’re astute enough to know that something is terribly wrong. But they’re also astute enough not to make a single comment about Jake.

Other than that, it’s me and Shane and my job here. Tori is back in Greenfield. She’s my only real friend, as I hadn’t lived here long enough before my breakup with Shane to make any more. Not that they would be much help now, anyway. There’s only one person who could possibly make me feel better.

And he’s long gone.

My phone rings again, stopping me from giving in to the threat of another round of tears. It’s Tori this time.

“Thank God,” I say by way of greeting.

“I know I’m the answer to prayer, woman, but damn!” she teases.

“Today, you really are.” This time my sigh is one of relief. “You’re not in town, are you?”

I’m hoping she’ll say yes, but I’ve learned to live with disappointment.

“No, but in just a few seconds, I’m gonna be begging you to come to me instead. Why don’t you save me the groveling and just tell me you’ll come home, okay? Okay!”

I can’t help but smile. I miss my friend. “You know, simply in the interest of helping you to preserve your dignity, I think I can manage that. But just this once. I’m not a fan of missing out on begging. Next time, it may cost you twice as much.”

“Duly noted,” she says easily. “I’ll bring my kneepads next time.”

“Wise choice,” I say with a giggle. “So, what is it that is so important that you’d beg me to come home?”

“Umm, if I told you, I’d have to kill you. And I love you too much to harm one lovely golden hair, so . . . there you go.”

“Lucky for you, I don’t need much of a reason to visit you. Mind if I borrow your couch?”

“Still avoiding the parents?”

“No, not really. I just think space is a good thing. I didn’t cut the apron strings too well the first time around. This time, I’m not making the same mistake.”

“Finally! Ohmigod! Boy, this summer sure was good for you, Laney.” As much as I love Tori, and even though I’ve forgiven her for the stuff with Shane, I still haven’t really felt comfortable talking to her about Jake. At least not about how my life is like a barren wasteland without him. I haven’t told anybody that. It feels almost like, if I keep it a secret, it’ll just go away and not be this way anymore. Eventually.

If only . . .

“Yeah, I did a lot of growing this year, didn’t I?”

“You sure did. And all for the better, I might add.”

I’m glad when I hear the front door open. I’m sure that’s Shane. Just in time to rescue me from a torturous conversation about how wonderful this summer was.

It seems that, no matter how hard I try, I can’t
forget
how wonderful it was.

But sometimes I wish I could.

“I’ve gotta go, Tori, but I’ll see you home tomorrow night, okay?”

“Sounds good. Meet you here around seven. The key’s under the mat if you get here before I get home.”

“Okay, see you soon.”

“Be safe.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You know that’s right,” Tori says before making a kissing noise and then hanging up.

“Who was that?” Shane asks as he saunters through my office door.

“Just Tori.”

“Mmm,” he murmurs neutrally. “Ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I say, wondering how I ever thought this man was enough to make me happy.

You didn’t really know yourself at all back then, did you?

No, I sure didn’t.

THIRTY:
Jake

You still wanting overtime?

A text from the fire chief.

Hell yeah!

Keeping busy is tantamount to staying sane, but I can only stand being at the house by myself for so long. It’s not really that I’m lonely per se; it’s more that I see Laney everywhere and it’s getting harder and harder to stay there without her. To cook in the kitchen, to watch television on the couch, to shower in my bathroom. To sleep in my bed. She’s everywhere. I can’t escape her. Even when I sometimes want to.

Come on in at 6 then. 48-hour shift. May end up being longer.

I make a mental note to myself to fill up Einstein’s dispensers in the barn. Just thinking about them reminds me of Laney’s surprise that he used them.

She had been under the very mistaken impression that I just left my dog to fend for himself. She tried to cover by saying she then concluded maybe one of the neighbors was feeding him. When I told her about the system I’d rigged up, she didn’t believe me so I took her out into the barn and showed her.

The contraptions are really nothing more than levers that release a premeasured amount of food and water down into bowls, respectively.

“See,” I’d told her. “Einstein just walks up and high-fives the lever, and he gets fed and watered. There’s enough in here to last him at least a week if he’s not a total pig.”

“You’re telling me that your dog is smart enough to come in here when he’s hungry, press these levers, and get his own food and water?”

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”

“And you expect me to believe that?”

I grinned at her. She was so uptight back then. But over the summer, it’s like she opened up. Just for me. Like a flower to the rain. She needed me in order to see who she really was, to see how beautiful and perfect she was deep down, past all the outward appearances and polite ways. What she never knew was that I saw it all along. She was always perfect to me, inside and out.

I whistled and called for the dog. “Einstein! Come!” It was still early so I figured he’d be around somewhere close, probably staying cool in the shade under the house or in one of the barns.

After a few minutes, Einstein showed up, tongue lolling to one side. “Good boy,” I praised him, wooling his fuzzy, white head. “Get a drink, Einie. Drink!”

After watching me for a few seconds with his sharp brown eyes, Einstein walked casually over to his water bowl, lifted his paw and smacked at the lever, and then waited until the bowl was full to get himself a nice cold drink of water.

Laney watched the whole thing with her mouth hanging open. “That’s the smartest dog in the world,” she finally surmised.

“Why the hell do you think we named him Einstein?”

Even now, I smile when I think about her. But it’s bittersweet. It’s like having the most precious thing in the world, but yet not really having it at all.

And then losing what you didn’t have.

How’s that for a conundrum?

Back in the present, I text my boss before I get lost in the past and forget about the present entirely.

Will do. See you soon.