The Second Chance (Inferno Falls Book Three) (25 page)

Home, it seems, isn’t just where the heart is. It’s where the mind goes, too. And as excited as I’d been about Alaska, I’d been thinking about Maya more. As much as I needed to leave all those years ago, I haven’t ever gone more than a week without thinking about what I left behind. And the entire time I’ve been back I’ve kept thinking about what might have been, or what might someday be, if I allowed it. Even if those thoughts have roiled under the surface.
 

I want to stay.
 

I want to see where this goes.
 

I’ve already forgiven Maya for Tommy — in my mind if not yet in person. And sometime soon, maybe tonight, I’ll ask if she’d be willing to forgive me for leaving her behind.
 

I don’t know if she’ll have me. She might be too angry, and she has every right. I was too hurt to hear her side of the story.
 

It wasn’t just about Maya; it was about Tommy, too. Despite being the worst kind of person, Tommy had everything I didn’t. Everyone liked him. He was a school hero, a sports hero, a great catch for anyone lucky enough to be around him. Tommy’s family had money mine didn’t. He had parents after I no longer did. He was confident, and despite doing so much wrong, he never found himself in trouble. Everyone knew he was screwing a fourth of the female population at Inferno Falls High (the hottest and most elite quarter, naturally), but even the ladies he’d loved and left didn’t seem to resent him. Girls he hadn’t been with still wanted him, despite his reputation. He had a phony smile that nobody seemed to realize was a mask, bravado that was nothing but swagger. He was taller, bigger, stronger, more handsome than I ever was. I had honesty and integrity going for me, but it turns out those don’t impress the real world. Even Maya, before all of this happened, wouldn’t jab at Tommy with me. She said he wasn’t as bad as I was making him out to be. She said he was
hot and sexy
, whether I wanted to admit it or not.
 

She said it with a smile, like she was fucking with me. But when we broke up for a bit and she leaped at the opportunity to fuck with him instead, I saw how things were and maybe always had been.
 

Nobody saw through Tommy. And when Maya slept with him, it hurt more than I could have ever imagined. And then, when she confessed to being pregnant with his baby, it was too much to take. One transgression, I could have maybe moved past, but she’d acquired a reminder that would be with us forever.
 

How was I supposed to leave with Maya and travel the world as we’d planned? She’d be carrying Tommy’s legacy like internal luggage. How were we supposed to share the life we’d always dreamed of? Tommy had inserted his
hot and sexy
crowbar into our shared fantasy and added his own contribution, destined to be with us forever.
 

How was I supposed to forget if the baby wouldn’t let me? Just one more thing Tommy beat me to. Just one more thing the Great Tommy Finch had stepped in to prove he could do better than me, and would forever smile his idiot’s grin about from behind my back.
 

But now I understand how foolish that way of thinking was. I can see, now, how different things have turned out without me, and would have turned out with me around. The sense of wasted time, seeing how well it’s all gone, is crushing. Things worked out fine, and as far as I can tell, Tommy is all but forgotten. There’s no the Great Tommy Finch in the family I abandoned. Just a woman I used to love and the daughter I might have had. She didn’t want him after all. If she wanted anyone, she wanted me.
 

Tommy isn’t around; I see that now.
 

Maybe, if Maya will forgive me, I can be.
 

I still feel disheveled despite doing my best to keep my one decent shirt from wrinkling, and dirty even though I showered this morning. It seems suddenly important to make a good impression, and in the final few turns something starts to knot in my belly. I’m sure I’ll do the wrong thing. I’m sure I’ll look the wrong way. I’m sure I’ll come off like an asshole because my long-time departure proves I am one. They’ll think (know) I’m selfish. Maybe somehow they’ll even know about Alaska. Joe will have told someone who told someone, or the bookstore clerk, who I don’t even know, will blab. And when I finally get a chance to beg Maya’s forgiveness, she’ll bring it up:
If you want to stay here with us, why the hell were you so thrilled by the idea of leaving again?
 

I can try and backtrack. Tell her I’ve changed my mind. But to Maya, who I’ve already left once, the picture will have been painted: Grady Dade, even after a decade, hasn’t learned how to do the right thing and follow through. He can’t be trusted, and never should be.
 

I’m so twisted up by the time I pull in that I nearly hit Maya with my truck while dicking with my hair in the mirror. I stop short, squeaking the brakes. She looks over but doesn’t jump, so maybe she doesn’t realize how close I came to doing her the ultimate disservice. I put the truck into park, kill the engine, and get out while smoothing my shirt again. A moment later, after Maya has been watching and waiting for a few seconds, I kind of jump and go back to the car, coming back out with Carl the Cat, who’s in his half box, smug as a king atop his pillow.
 

Maya looks at Carl. The cat, as if he has every right in the world, looks at Maya.
 

“I see you brought a plus one,” she says.
 

“I’m sorry. The auction people came over this morning, and we had to vacate for a few days while they clean and fix up. I thought I’d have time to stick him somewhere, but … ”
 
I shrug helplessly because there’s no good way to tell the girl you’re in love with that you didn’t have time to get a motel room for your cat.

She reaches out. I flinch because Carl’s become attached, thereby jettisoning my hopes of one day unloading his ass on someone else. He tends to be skittish, but lets Maya pet him without hesitation. I even get a feline glance that says,
Be nice to me, or I’ll ruin this for you
.
 

“So this is your cat.”
 

“Actually, this is a totally different cat. I have one for home and one for travel, like having two cell phone chargers.”
 

“What’s his name?”
 

“Carl.”
 

“Carl is a stupid name for a cat.”
 

“Didn’t you used to have a dog named Walter?”
 

“Yes. But Walter is an awesome name. And it’s a dog, so the rules are different.”
 

Carl is purring as she’s scratching behind his ears. I keep getting glances, but now they say,
She’s cooler than you, dumbass.
 

“Well. Come on in then,” Maya says.
 

It occurs to me how ridiculous all of this is as she heads for the front door ahead of me. You’re supposed to bring wine to dinner, not animals.
 

“Can I … I should just leave him in the truck.” Honestly, I don’t know why I didn’t do that to start with. He was in the truck all day. I gave him
all damned day
to run away and leave me catless, but he stuck around. Here’s another chance, and for some reason I’m passing it up.
 

“Don’t be silly. Mom loves cats.”
 

“Does she have cats?”
 

“She just loves them.”
 

It’s not really an answer, but it seems to boil down to me continuing the absurd thing I’m about to do, so I simply follow. I realize the box is unnecessary and extract Carl to toss it into the truck’s bed then scamper to catch up, holding Carl like a baby.
 

Arthur greets us as the door before we knock, as if he heard us and came to see. I’m extremely self-conscious about my hairy package, but it’s only mildly interesting to Arthur. He says, “Welcome back, Grady. Put your pussy anywhere.” I consider a nervous joke about how he should say that to Maya rather than me, but something tells me he won’t find it funny.
 

Soon after entering, we’re attacked by a three-and-a-half foot assailant who hugs her mother’s legs. She seems to consider hugging mine but then notices the far more interesting thing in my arms.

“You brought a kitty!” Mackenzie says, her eyes full of childish wonder.
 

“Um … ”
 

Charlotte walks in from one of the back rooms. I’ve only been here a few times, and that was long ago, but I seem to remember the room being her studio, where she’s always made stupid crap. I can already see a few of her creations around the room. Arthur is standing beside one: a pink-and-orange needlepoint that says,
Let a smile be your umbrella
. Arthur is in a cardigan and holding a pipe that I know he enjoys holding but hasn’t actually lit since his lip cancer scare years ago. He and the needlepoint are side by side like two sides of an argument.
 

“Oh, hello, Grady. Nice to see you again.” She looks like she might come forward to greet me but Maya hugs her first, and I hear Charlotte say, discreetly,
“Did he bring a cat?”
 

Mackenzie is still right there, now reaching for Carl in clear and obvious defiance of feline personal space restrictions. I open my mouth to warn her, but she’s freed me of my burden and is holding Carl up by the armpits before I can. He dangles unprotesting in front of her assessing gaze, but Carl’s yellow eyes are on me, seeming to say,
Let’s not speak of this indignity
.
 

“What’s his name?”
 

“Carl.”
 

“Really?” Her spellbound demeanor changes into something more studious. She gathers Carl up from the bottom, moving his dangling position to one more like a cradled baby. Then she moves to the couch and resumes fussing while Charlotte pulls me into a thin hug.
 

“How have you been?” she asks, looking me over.
 

“Good, thanks.”
 

“Why did you bring us a cat?”
 

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t able to drop him off at a motel.” I realize that probably sounds like a joke, but Charlotte is watching me, seeming to think.
 

She says, “Does he need a hat?”
 

I’ve never been asked this question.
 

“He’s good,” I say.
 

“Well. Let me know if he needs one. I have too many.”

I’m about to inquire further, but then Arthur moves forward to take his proper turn to greet me. My hand comes up in a Pavlovian response. Arthur takes and shakes it.
 

“You look well,” he says.
 

“Thanks. You too.”

“Did Maya tell you that her brothers got married last year?”
 

“Oh. No, she didn’t.” Tell the truth, I’d forgotten she
had
brothers. Maya is the youngest of her siblings by far — sort of an
oops
kid that proves that these two stodgy folks are either familiar with sex after all or have excellent aim. Maya doesn’t talk about them much because she’s so much younger than they are. To Maya, this makes her brothers and sisters seem like distant neighbors. But to them, she’s a taxi and care service. Arthur and Charlotte don’t have many physical needs yet, but when they get old enough, it will be Maya who carries the load alone.
 

“Not to each other,” Arthur clarifies.
 

“Of course.”
 

“Kurt did marry a gay guy, though.”
 

I wonder if Arthur understands how homosexuality works. To my understanding, it’s not mix and match, but there’s no indication here that Kurt’s new husband also married a gay guy.

“That’s great.”
 

“Yep, yep. I’m okay with it.”
 

“That’s good.”

“Lots of gay people today. Anyone you know into it?”
 

“Um … ”
 

Charlotte has been fussing with Maya, who’s pretending to hear none of this. She reaches out and slaps Arthur on the shoulder.
 

“What?”

“Stop asking him that.”
 

“I’m just curious. It’s all the rage these days.”
 

“Arthur, check the coffee,” Charlotte says.
 

“I’m okay with it, is what I’m saying,” Arthur tells me again.
 

“Arthur!”
 

He leaves. Charlotte turns to me, looks like she might say something then leaves without a word.
 

Maya looks at me. I look at her. I’m so eager to tell her what I’ve been mulling all day, I don’t want to wait through dinner. I wonder how much time we have and if we’ll be able to get any privacy.
 

I doubt it. But while I’m looking at Maya, wondering if she’s thinking any of the same things that I am, something makes me tingle. I look down to see her hand slide into mine. When I look back up, she’s smiling, a thousand unsaid words on her lips.