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Sighing, I hike up the embankment and back to real life.
Hollie
I have now received clarification on John’s version ofall in.
Initially, I didn’t know what to make of it, of John, and I see now my uncertainty came with good reason. I dared let down my guard, just for a peek.
And got my foot slammed in the door.
Detective Little was kind enough to allow me to linger in his office until John stopped his hunt. Now, tears annoy my eyes as I check both directions at the four-way stop a block from the diner. Take that, John Chavez. I can walk around town all day and all night if I care to.
I’ve stuck to the residential streets between the police station and Charlie’s. We have nothing to say to each other.
Inside the diner, I collect the paycheck I missed last Friday. Marlene won’t let my red eyes go unexplained, so I linger over a cup of bad coffee while she finishes out the final fifteen minutes of her shift. At one o’clock, she unties her apron and slides into the booth with me.
I fill her in on Jacob’s exoneration. Sidetracked by John’s dismissal, I keep having to remind myself this is agoodday. Naturally, my tears confuse her—until I give a quick wrap-up of my new standing with John. Then I ask her for a ride, and she blessedly lets the rest of the story go as she drives me to his place
The pain in my stomach grows the closer we get. Unfortunately for my stomach—and my heart—I have a car and other personal effects at John’s house. The sooner the break is complete, the better.
Make that Agent Chavez’s house.
As we turn from the highway onto the meandering road that traces the river, Jacob returns the last of my dozen texts. He assures me he’s alright. He’s at Angie’s home and she’s letting him hang there for a while. He needs some time.
I completely understand, though I do hope he’ll share some of that time with me and letmebe there for him, too.
Right behind Jacob’s message, Angie texts confirming Jacob’s story and assuring me he’s welcome as long as he feels the need to stay. My heart breathes relief. He sought out good people. He couldn’t be in better hands.
Grateful John is unfamiliar with Marlene’s car so I can scout the place first, I feel a second crash of relief when the driveway is empty.
Marlene looks at me with sadness as she tells me she’ll see me in the morning. I know what she’s thinking. That I let John slip through my fingers and that I’ll miss out on all this—thisbeing a gorgeous new home that makes my tiny apartment and her mobile home look like forsaken stepchildren.
Leaning across the console, I return her giant hug and thank her for the ride and for her friendship. She waits until I have the front door open, then guns her five-year-old Charger toward the main road.
Even though John gave me the key I use to enter, I feel like an intruder as I sweep my eyes around the pretty, open space. With its natural, built-in beauty, all the home needs is a few softening touches.
Maybe some woman will get lucky one day. Or maybe not. John is a brick wall. An island. A piece of earth that broke off from the shore and wanders alone down the river. I fooled myself for a spell, but really? How can I expect a man like that to throw his heart and his life open to a woman like me?
Marriage?
Good one, Hollie.
Butmylife isn’t over. Strangely, after a wringer of a morning, not to mention the last month, something resembling hope is blossoming. I’ve done life on my own before. I’m not going to fall to pieces now. Those days are behind me.
Behindus. Jacob is going to be okay, too. Making sure he finds wholeness and healing will be my mission now.
I chalk this last month with John up to a learning experience. That’s all it was ever meant to be. A painful experience, but a learning one I can build upon.
I’ll manage to forget about him someday…
Five minutes is sufficient to load Jacob’s and my things into my ugly car. After the last load is tucked into the backseat, on my way inside, I work John’s housekey off the ring, laying it on the kitchen island where there’s no way he can miss it. I’ll lock the knob behind me, and that will be that.
My phone buzzes with Jacob’s text tone, and I pause, typing out a quick reply. I’m glad he’s not shutting down on me this time. Stuffing the phone in my pocket, I open the front door—and run smack into a tall, darkhaired man.
My hand flies to my pounding chest. “You.”
John’s son stares down at me, his eyes the same color, yet darker than I’ve ever seen his father’s. “What are you doing here? Where’s my dad?” He looks past me into the cavernous living room.
“He’s not home. I was just leaving.”
