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“Always?” The hair on the back of my neck prickled. Instead of dwelling, I’d forced Manning out of my mind frequently the past year. Ironically, I hadn’t opened my eyes this morning as I had many times before and thought—maybe today Manning will come for me. “Because I did need them,” I said, “and they weren’t there.”
“No you didn’t,” he said. “You did just fine on your own. Look at you. You even moved on.” I bit my bottom lip just as he added, “But I didn’t. And I think I know why. You and I never got any closure.”
I let my mouth part. I’d thought the exact same thing. Though Manning and I had said goodbye in a hotel room almost five years earlier, I hadn’t ever been able to shake the feeling that he was mine. And part of me had still hoped after the divorce, he’d come back for me. “I agree.”
“So let’s have it,” he said. “Dinner, drinks, and closure.”
Closure. The end. The idea of it seared through me. It brought to the surface all the pain and heartache and love I associated with Manning. Suffering that I wanted to stop—for good. I needed to snip that last thread of hope, the invisible tether between us, and maybe Manning had the scissors at his house.
“You got a pen?” he asked.
I looked over my shoulder. June was getting restless, tapping her foot and then her watch when she saw me looking. I rummaged through my purse, hardly able to believe Manning and I were just going to sit and have a civilized meal, no buffer, no obstacles between us. I gave him a pen I’d taken from the producers’ office. He glanced over the network’s logo before scribbling directions and an address on the back of June’s card.
“That contract thing,” he said, “did you already sign it?”
“No.”
“Ah.” He handed me the card. “Can you read that?”
“I think so. Take the two-ten freeway about an hour and a—wait.” I drew back, squinting at his handwriting. “Where do you live?”
“Big Bear.”
I looked up at the uncharacteristic cheerfulness in his voice. “Big Bear?” I asked. The same place we’d both been hurt? Where he’d been taken away by the cops while I’d stood by, helpless? Where I’d watched my sister leave for a special dinner with him? He’d made me fall in love with him in Big Bear, and he’d broken me over and over since then. “Why would you buy a house there?”
“Not buy. Build.” He glanced behind me. “I’ll tell you all about it over dinner. So just follow those directions until you see my mailbox. It’s white. Well, so is everyone else’s, but I don’t have a neighbor for a quarter mile, but come to think of it, my address isn’t posted anywhere, so I’ll paint a red stripe on it. Just in case. That’s how you’ll know.”
I didn’t know what to say. I hadn’t realized I was agreeing to an entire evening in the equally terrifying and peaceful mountains, away from everyone else, just us. “You don’t need to paint your mailbox for me.”
He paused and then laughed. Actually laughed, as if I’d made some kind of joke. Shaking his head, he backed away. “You have no idea what you’re in for, Birdy. See you tonight.”
My stomach fluttered. Maybe that’s where my wings had been hiding all these years? “Wait. Manning?”
“Don’t try to get out of it, Lake.” He arched an eyebrow. “If you don’t show, there’ll be no closure, and then I’ll have no choice but to come looking for you.”
As much as I wanted to believe that, I didn’t anymore. I just sighed. “I was going to ask what time.”
“Whenever,” he said. “As soon as you’re ready, come to me.”
7
Lake
Manning had gone and painted his mailbox for me—just so I wouldn’t get lost. Only it wasn’t a stripe like he’d said, but a wobbly red triangle. In the middle of August, the Summer Triangle had found me instead of the other way around. All during the drive, I’d wondered what kind of home he’d built for himself here. If I knew Manning, it’d be a sturdy, no-frills house. Remembering the few pieces of furniture of his I’d seen, and my cherished jewelry box, I hoped there was a lot of wood involved. Manning’s hands could turn raw wood to perfection—and me to mush.
Manning had found his calling, while I had just found—what? Was a sense of acceptance the best I could hope for? I wanted for myself the same peace he’d seemed to have this morning, but I’d gotten lost along the way. Up until I’d made the decision to turn down the contract, I couldn’t help feeling I’d been biding time, waiting for Manning until I could start my life. I’d fallen for him, run to and from him, longed and mourned for him, and where had I been during all that?
