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In a fit of anger, she drops her hand from me, angrier than I’ve ever seen her before. “Then go! Get the hell out. You don’t love me!”
Hurt and wounded, like a hobbling animal cut off at the knees, I try to leave, but she’s holding on to me, big wet rivers of tears streaming down her face. I can’t stand it. I can’t do any more harm. “I have to go,” I say, trying to pull her hands away from my shirt as gently as I can without hurting her. I know the blow I’ve dealt her is much worse.
Her hands slip away, and with one last look I tell her the absolute truth for the last time, “Baby, I will never stop loving you.”
Closing the door on my past, future, and present, I slump down by her door, listening to her cry in pain. I want to destroy everything in my path, leaving it as barren as my scorched heart, for the pain I’ve inflicted that she doesn’t deserve.
I’m numb. So numb I only hear it. Her mother. “We have her.” And I go through my own emotional breakdown on the other side of the door that has separated me from hope, from life.
It’s been a few dayssince I was at Lacey’s. I’ve done nothing else but think about her. You know when you can’t get something out of your mind? It’s on constant repeat. All the good and the bad. But what stands out most is us. On the couch, talking like old times. It all came back naturally. She was my friend, and I was hers. I felt a stillness, a peace I haven’t felt in years. I can’t believe she’s back in my life. A second chance I couldn’t have dreamed of— that I didn’t believe would be possible. But here we are, and the fact she would even let me near her, to touch her...I’m thanking whoever is above me just for the chance.
“Hey.”
“Hi, Landon.”
I don’t know how, but I can hear the smile in her voice. Makes the nerves I had about calling her disappear.
What the hell? Am I twelve? I don’t remember the last time I was nervous at the thought of calling a girl. Yeah, she does that.
“I know we set a date for Saturday for the project. I wanted to say hi,” I tell her. “Is it okay I’m calling just to call?” I think it is, after hearing her voice. “If it’s not, I won’t.” I just feel I need her permission. I need her to know she’s holding all the cards. It’s all on her terms.
“You have permission to call me anytime you like.”
“Let’s not get crazy. You might be sorry you said that.”
She laughs. “I doubt that. Besides, you called at the perfect time. I wanted to talk to you about two things, my mother being one.”
“Okay, no good can come of that sentence.”
“Maybe my mother decided to make you an apple pie, and she’ll mail it to you.”
“She can send the apple pie, as long as she doesn’t show up at the door with it. On second thought, the apple didn't work out for anyone in the Garden of Eden, and it sure as hell didn't work out for Snow White. I'm good. But your mother can be scary when she wants to be.”
She laughs. “You weren’t scared of my mother. You stared her down a few times. Respectfully, though.”
“I was trying to win her over without looking like a punk. I wouldn’t be able to face Trigg if I punked out.”
“I didn’t get that impression from you.”
“Well, I can tell you, all guys want to win with their girl’s mother. We won’t admit it, but we sure do.”
“You didn’t have a thing to worry about. She preferred you to Trigg.”
“That’s not saying much, Lacey. Trigg was her antichrist.”
“You’re right, bad comparison. The first time she saw him through the window she saw horns emerging from his head, with a wicked tail swinging from the side in a curlicue.”
“Trigg has that effect on parents. Generally anyone in authority. The old Trigg. New Trigg has toned it down, even with all the ink. Can’t remember the last time he got a tat.”
“I noticed he’s changed.”
“Yeah. About your mother.” I change back the conversation, not wanting to spend my time with her talking about Trigg.
“She’s coming back earlier than expected. Someone in their group was hurt on the trip. She volunteered to accompany them back. Since she’s gone, I’ve taken off a lot of days and shifted around my schedule.”
“You’re giving me a heads-up? You’re abandoning me and the boys’ project, leaving me at the mercy of your mother?” I joke. I hope it’s a joke.
“Not at all. But I do need the money my regular schedule provides. I’m not totally abandoning you. She’ll fill in for me once or twice before the project is done. You should count yourself lucky. Usually, she does the majority of social gathering stuff when it comes to school. She even joined the PTA; she’s better at these things than I am.”
