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“You were just gonna leave? I knew you weren’t one for commitment, but to leave without sayin’ goodbye? Well, that’s a new kind of low, even for you, Tuck Anderson.” Her Southern accent came out even more when she was angry. I remembered in the beginning thinking that it was cute, but as she stood there yelling at me, it sounded more like nails on a chalkboard.
Shawna Baker and I had been “dating” off and on for two years. We had never been in a relationship. I had always been completely honest with her that I’d never want more than the occasional company, and she’d always said that she didn’t mind. She was beautiful and fun, and for someone somewhere, she would make a good wife, but that someone was never going to be me.
“I sent you a text,” I replied, knowing damn well that it hadn’t been enough of a goodbye at all for someone I had been sleeping with for two years.
“A text? You thought that was going to be sufficient?”
Not really. But I often forgot that leaving someone’s life may affect them, even if it didn’t affect me.
“I’m sorry,” I replied, not really knowing what else to say.
I meant it though. I was sorry.
I was sorry that I wasn’t the man Shawna wanted me to be. I was sorry that I couldn’t give her the life she wanted with the white picket fence and the kids running in the yard. I was sorry that I couldn’t even give her a proper goodbye—I’d sent a text with only four words, “I gotta go. Thanks.”
I was sorry for a lot of things.
Shawna’s body relaxed slightly and she leaned her forearms against my door. She scoffed, not angrily though, just exasperated. “Oh, Tuck. I don’t think I have ever met a man like you. One who actually means it when he says he’s sorry. But somethin’ about the way you look at me makes me think you really do.”
“That’s because I do,” I said back, looking up at her.
Shawna really was the most understanding woman I had ever met.
She cupped my face in her hands, and I shied away. She didn’t move them though. Instead, she turned my face to hers again and traced the line across my jaw with her thumb. There were a lot of scars I could keep hidden, but that one was impossible. That stretch of tissue I tried to mask with facial hair stuck out across my jaw, warped and white, forever marking me, reminding me of where I’d come from.
“You’re a good man, Tuck Anderson. I always hoped you would open up for me, but I understand that you couldn’t. You’re lost. I just hope you find your missing piece one day, whatever or whoever that is.”
I smelled the familiar scent of her coconut shampoo as she kissed me gently on the lips. Then she backed up, tapped twice on my truck, and walked away.
I sat for a moment, reflecting before turning the ignition and pulling out of the parking lot.
Shawna will make a good spouse for someone someday.
As for me, I’m not any good for anyone.
NINE
2005
LETTIE
I leftthe bakery and walked back to the car with my donut. It had been interesting seeing a guy with biceps the size of melons working somewhere as delicate as a bakery. Or working in general. The boys in my school would have never been caught dead with a summer job, and especially not one that required them to get their hands dirty—even if it was only a little bit of flour.
I looked across the street and spotted a veterinary clinic with a big sign out front that read, “Aveline’s Pet Clinic.”I’d wanted to be a veterinarian since the day I saved a bunny from a dog on the way to school, and while my parents found it appalling that I wanted to do a job that would require me to wear anything other than a tailored business suit, I knew in my heart it was what I was meant to do.
I took a bite of my donut, trying to pluck up the courage to go into the clinic just to see what a real one looked like on the inside. I had only ever seen them on the Internet. My parents wouldn’t have been caught dead with an animal in the house, and even if they’d allow it, there would have been no way I’d be able to take it to a vet clinic. That would likely fall on Julia’s shoulders.
“Hey!” I heard a voice behind me. I spun around fast enough to make myself dizzy and found myself face-to-face—or more like face-to-chest—with the baker boy again.
“Are you stalking me?” I asked as I reoriented myself and took another bite of the donut. Not at all like the proper lady I had been raised to be. Donuts themselves were taboo at the Carlton manor, along with cake and cookies and anything that might actually bring joy to a person.
He hesitated, shaking his head as a slight chuckle escaped his mouth. “Not today, little one. You just left this.” He held out his hand with my card but then pulled it away quickly. “Wait a minute, did you leave this so I wouldhaveto find you? Was this a ploy to see me again?”
“Whoa, whoa, okay, Ted Bundy. Slow down. I just forgot to put it back in my wallet. There was absolutely no ulterior motive.”
I took the card from his hand and placed it in my purse. I slowly took another bite of the donut, my insides tingling simultaneously over how good the donut tasted and how hot the baker boy was. I liked whatever was going on between us, it was playful and light. Things were never this easy with any of the guys I’d talked to at my school. None of them understood fun or humor.
“Whatever you say,” he replied as he looked down. He shuffled his feet on the sidewalk, and when he looked up again, I noticed his eyes were peculiar. They weren’t blue or green or brown, not even hazel… They were gray. Gray with one speckle of dark blue in each that sat right next to his pupils. Which were dilated, I might add. I tried to remember what that meant from biology class and wondered whether mine looked the same.
