Louisa rolled her eyes. She’d already been over and over this with Evan, who’d been more than a bit perturbed by her slow response. “You should be a romance novelist rather than a PE teacher with that imagination of yours, Sarah. I’ve told you many times that I’m deliriously happy with Evan.” She ignored her friend’s inelegant snort. “Seeing Gabe again doesn’t change my feelings for him in the slightest.
But
since we’re on the subject, I wish I’d known you and Arty had invited him.”
“We didn’t. Arty and I were just as surprised to see him as you were. I thought maybe you had invited him.”
“Why in the world would I have done that? I could have done without seeing him again in this lifetime.”
“You don’t mean that, and you know it.”
Louisa shrugged. “So who invited him? Somebody had to, and it certainly wouldn’t have been
my
family.” Definitely not. No one had ever been shy about voicing their opinions about Gabe, then or now.
“It’s a mystery,” Sarah said in a ghoulish voice, humming the strains of the Twilight Zone under her breath. “He looks good, doesn’t he?”
Louisa shrugged again, wishing this conversation would end. “I didn’t really notice.”
“Uh-huh. Did you two get a chance to talk much?”
“No, not really.” She started gathering Sarah’s things. “I have nothing to say to him.”
When Sarah spoke, her voice was hesitant. “What was it like seeing him again after all this time?”
Another quick retort was on the tip of Louisa’s tongue, but Sarah was her best friend. She’d never buy it. “It was weird,” she said softly. “After the way our marriage ended, I’d convinced myself I hated him. I
want
to hate him.” She took a deep breath. “But I can’t.” Not wanting to get emotional, she straightened her shoulders. “It was good to see he’s alive and well.”
“So, any of the old spark still there? Arty told me you two danced for a while.”
Usually, Sarah’s directness was one of her best traits. But right now, it grated on Louisa’s nerves like sandpaper on a baby’s bottom. “The only spark between us is anger. Nothing else. He abandoned me. We were married for better or for worse. When things got worse, he left.”
“Come on,” Sarah said, drawing out the words. “You guys had the ultimate in worst. No marriage should ever be put to that test. Don’t you think that maybe—?”
“Sarah.” Louisa’s firm tone cut her off without another word.
Sarah glanced away and smoothed imaginary wrinkles from her skirt. After a moment, she asked quietly, “When’s he going back to Chicago?”
“He’s, um, not,” Louisa answered just as quietly, unable to meet Sarah’s eyes. Her friend was surely thinking the same thing she was: that Louisa’s parents and Evan in particular would be none too pleased when they found out Gabe was back. For good.
****
Gabe usually avoided bars, but the thought of going up to his empty room didn’t sound much better. He scooted onto the first available barstool and ordered a Coke. He glanced around as he waited for his drink. The place wasn’t too crowded for a Saturday night. That was good. He just wanted to be left alone.
He’d walked the five blocks from the reception back to his hotel, hoping the fresh air would clear his mind of Louisa. It hadn’t. With every step he’d heard her words,
“Yes, Evan, I’ll marry you.”
And he’d seen her kissing Payne. And he’d seen her slender white arms slide around Payne’s neck and pull his face closer for the kiss, obviously not at all bothered that her entire family looked on. During their marriage, she’d always been hesitant to express affection in front of them. That obviously wasn’t the case with Payne. Gabe scowled.
The way Louisa’s gaze had sought him out in the crowd after Payne popped the question so melodramatically, Gabe had almost thought she’d say no. As she’d stared at him so briefly, he’d seen the shadow of doubt in her eyes. For a fleeting instant, he’d seen the old dreams and longing. Then, suddenly, she did an about face and said yes to Evan Payne.
“Yes, Evan, I’ll marry you.”
Then she’d kissed him.
Gabe scowled again.
To hell with the soda, he wanted something stronger. Needed it. He waved over the bartender and ordered a Scotch, straight up, no candy-ass drink tonight. He wanted to drink until this ache dulled inside him, the ache that began when he’d left her five years ago and had never quite disappeared. Oh, he’d tried to ignore it, tried to pretend it wasn’t there, but he always felt its presence. Usually, it was just a dark feeling in the pit of his stomach, a faint reminder of what he’d lost. But tonight, it was a gaping, cavernous hole, like a cannon had been shot through him to remind him he was nothing without her.
The bartender set the drink in front of him and Gabe told him to keep his tab open. His fingers trembled as they wrapped around the glass, the amber liquid sloshing against the sides. Closing his eyes, he inhaled the damning scent of alcohol. Without taking a sip, he knew the fiery path it would burn down his throat, causing his eyes to water and his nose to sting. Then he’d feel the alcohol envelop his gut, and the sweet surrender would take over and that dark hole would close. He’d drunk himself into oblivion often enough during that last year of his marriage to permanently engrave the sensations into his brain.
A young woman sat on the next stool. She smiled openly when Gabe glanced her way.
“Buy me a drink?” she asked, long lashes lowered over blue eyes.
Gabe shrugged and waved the bartender over.
“I’m Jennifer,” she said. When Gabe just nodded, she asked, “Do you have a name?”
“Gabe.”
“You here alone?”
He nodded again.
She tapped a perfectly manicured fingernail on the bar next to his still-f Scotch. “Singing the blues tonight, Gabe?”
“You could say that.” He stared into his glass, weak for being here with a drink in his hand, but not strong enough to push it away. At least it hadn’t passed his lips. Yet. His clutch on the glass tightened.
“Aren’t relationships a drag?” Jennifer asked, crossing her legs beneath a skimpy skirt and leaning toward him to present her ample cleavage. “Don’t you wish men and women could just get together without having to worry about commitment and all that sort of thing?”
Gabe turned to stare at her. His gaze dropped to her chest. Then back to her face. Her cotton-candy lips curved into a sexy smile. Hmm. Nothing about her reminded him of Louisa, which was good. Jennifer was rather attractive in an obvious sort of way. Too much make up, too short a skirt. But he liked her hair. She did too, judging by the way she kept tossing it over her shoulder and how she twirled a silky blonde strand around her index finger.
Louisa used to do that. But she’d used her pinky finger. He’d noticed it the night they met.
He’d been working in the photo lab at college late one winter night. All the other students had long gone, which was prudent because he wasn’t exactly a student anymore since his finances ran out and because he wasn’t exactly supposed to be using the facilities anymore.
“Hey.” The soft voice behind him made him jump, and he nearly dropped the photo back into the developer.
He turned to see who’d caught him. He had to look down to see her. She was at least seven or eight inches shorter, just a little thing. Her hair was a short mass of springy, dark curls, and she twirled a strand around her pinky finger.
“Hey,” he said back. “You scared me.” In the red light of the darkroom, it was hard to see into the corners and outer hallway, but she appeared to be alone.
“I don’t think I’ve seen you around before,” she said. “Whose class are you in?"
Gabe was suddenly conscious of the sloppy way he was dressed, although he supposed he looked no less unkempt than she did in her baggy sweatshirt and pants. He pushed his long hair out of his face, wishing he’d gotten it cut like he’d been meaning to forever. “I, er, am doing an independent study.” He watched her face to see if she believed him.
Apparently she did, because she stuck out her hand and said, “I’m Louisa Rhodes. I’m in the beginning photography class. At least until they kick me out. I’m really bad. I just don’t understand why we have to learn how to use a darkroom when we have digital cameras. It’s so old-fashioned.” She peered around his shoulder to see the pictures becoming clear in the solution on the table.
He was about to tell her it was important for a good photographer to understand the traditional methods, but she brushed against his arm, and the odd tingle at the contact kept him from speaking.
“Wow. You took these? They’re fantastic.” She stepped around him to grab one of the photos on the drying rack. “Are you a graduate student or something? You’re really good.”
It had been a long time since Gabe had really smiled, but he did at her sincerely given compliment.
After that night, she caught him in there a few more times before she figured out what he was up to. Instead of turning him in, she struck a deal with him—if he would help her pass her photography class, she would keep her mouth shut about him sneaking in.
Trusting other people had never been a strong suit of his, but slowly he learned to trust her. By the end of the quarter, she’d become a decent photographer and they’d become best friends.
Those were the days, Gabe mused glumly. He wished he could go back to those times, before life became so complex, so complicated. Before the accident.
He turned. The stool beside him was empty.
“It’s hard to keep the interest of such a pretty lady when you go off into a dream world like you did.” The bartender shot him a strange look as he wiped the counter.
Is that what he’d done? Gabe shrugged and reached for a handful of peanuts, eyeing the untouched Scotch. His hands shook with want for that drink, but he knew full well that one drink would lead to another, and then another. He closed his eyes. With a sigh, he pushed the glass across the counter. “How about another Coke?”
****
Louisa tossed and turned until her bed sheets were a tangled mess around her waist. In the moments when she was half-awake, she replayed the entire reception in her mind over and over from the second she’d first seen Gabe in the receiving line to when she’d accepted Evan’s proposal only to look up and find that Gabe had disappeared. In the few instances when she slept, it was a fevered sleep, filled with nightmares of an evening exactly six years ago. A night that had changed the course of her entire life.
When the sun finally streamed into her windows at the crack of dawn, Louisa thought about heading over to her parents’ house for breakfast. Her heart was empty, and she craved company and comfort. But she knew her parents would realize she hadn’t slept, and they would know why. And inevitably Gabe’s name would come up. They would blame him for her nightmares. They blamed the accident on him, after all. Louisa didn’t think she could handle that old discussion. Not today.
She sunk back into the pillows of her daybed and the memories overtook her. Gabe had been the one who wanted to leave her parents’ house early that night. And he’d been the one who insisted on taking the back roads to avoid having to drive through downtown. The accident hadn’t been his fault. The other driver had been drinking and ran a stop sign. Gabe couldn’t have avoided the collision.
Still, he’d been the one driving the car the night their son was killed.
****
Louisa looked up from her drafting table when her boss poked her head into her work area.
“Louisa, you haven’t gotten a stitch of work done today, have you?” Jody Woods asked matter-of-factly as she glanced at the sketches spread out on the table.
Louisa sighed and sat back on her stool. “That obvious, huh?”
Jody nodded. “Evan told me what today is,” she said gently. Jody was Evan’s older sister and the person who introduced them. “Why don’t you take the rest of the afternoon off? The Appleton project can wait.”
“I’m okay, really.” Louisa hated to give her boss any reason to doubt her commitment to her job. One of the firm’s art directors was leaving next month, and she had her eye on the position. It would be a major coup to get that job before she was thirty. And she planned to get it.
Jody frowned at her. “You look like shit, like you haven’t slept in days. Now, go home. I insist.”
With a lopsided smile, Louisa straightened the drawings on her table. “Thanks.” Who was she to argue with the boss?
Twenty minutes later, she waited for the bus in the pouring rain. Luckily, she always carried an umbrella in her briefcase. Today was no exception, even though when she’d arrived at work that morning, the skies were blue and clear. Typical June weather in the Northwest.
She squinted at the approaching bus. Her number. In fifteen minutes she’d be home, then she could take a nice long nap. But as the bus stopped in front of her and the passengers began to alight, she changed her mind and stepped back from the curb.
The closest place to catch a bus to the cemetery was six blocks away. She didn’t relish a walk in this downpour, so she hailed a passing cab. After first having the cabby stop at a florist, Louisa had him drop her off in front of the wrought iron gates at the cemetery entrance. She never drove inside—it seemed intrusive. Besides, she always needed the walking time to prepare herself.
The rain pelted her navy umbrella, and the wetness on the pavement seeped into her shoes, which weren’t designed for navigating mud puddles. On any other day, she’d have stayed out of the bad weather. But she needed to see Joey. Especially after seeing Gabe again, she needed to be with her son.
She passed only one parked car as she walked slowly along the driveway that would take her to the tiny grave near the back of the manicured grounds. Not many people wanted to pay their respects on a blustery day like today. But that was good. She didn’t want to see anyone. She wanted to cry in peace.