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“Things, sure. Shoes. Clothes. But not a future, which I suspect is what he wanted. What about Grand Marin? The property manager offer.”
“What about it?”
“You blew it off.”
“I didn’t blow it off! I had to come here. I had to stay—”
“You didn’t have to do anything! Admit it. You’re punishing yourself for the shit that went down while you were one of the head honchos at Dad’s company. You watched everything crumble, felt helpless, and decided never to put your ass on the line again.”
His shot hits its target—the center of my chest. He’s right, which I suspect he knows given the way he watches me.
“You wanted that property-management gig. I could tell when you mentioned it. And you wanted Nate. I could tell when you collapsed in my arms at the hospital and wouldn’t listen when I told you to call him and tell him you fucked up.”
I purse my lips. “It’s too late now.”
“Is it?”
Silence hangs in the air as heavy as lead. He sips from his mug and stays silent. I decide to change the subject.
“My future isn’t in Ohio. I’ve been thinking about moving to Chicago.”
“No, V.” He laughs, which hurts my feelings.
“Why not?” I push my bottom lip out. He has the audacity to laugh again.
“You don’t want to live here. I don’t want you to live here.” He pads that blow with a comforting hand to my shoulder. “I’ve fucked up a lot. I know that. But I’m figuring it out. I’m trying to live my life. You should do the same.”
Then again, maybe meditation turns you into a jerk.
“You only get one life. Or in your case, Ms. Vandemark, two.”
I slug him in the shoulder and he smiles. His smile reminds me of the kid he was before he started drinking. He had a light, easy way about him. He was a hell of a lot of fun. He was my best friend. He still is, I realize. I’d do anything for him.
Including blow up my own life. Twice, as it were.
“I appreciate you showing up the night Dee was in the hospital.” He grows serious and it makes him sound mature. Wise. “But I regret asking you to come. If you’d stayed in Clear Ridge you wouldn’t have lost Nate.”
I drink my coffee too fast. It burns my throat and my eyes water. At least that’s why I tell myself my eyes are watering.
“You don’t know that.”
“You self-sabotage almost as well as I do,” he tells me. “There’s no rehab for pushing people away.”
“What could he possibly love about me?” The question has plagued me each and every sleepless night I’ve spent in my hotel room.
“If you can’t see why…” Walt trails off. He cuffs the back of my neck, lowering his gaze to mine. “You are the most amazing woman I’ve ever known.”
A traitorous tear spills down my cheek. He swipes it away and sits back in his chair. I bite my lip. I’m tired of crying.
“One more thing,” he says. I have a feeling he’s made a decision and it doesn’t involve me. I brace myself.
“I don’t want any more of the money you saved for me.” Before I can argue, he adds, “I mean it. I don’t want a safety net. Not one I didn’t install myself. Most of my problem is I’ve been bailed out my entire life. And most of your problem is you’ve been taking the blame for everyone around you who fucks up.”
I frown.
“I have a good job. I make my own money.”
“I know,” I whisper. He wasn’t fired or penalized in any way. I expected as much. Nate’s not petty.
