Walleye Junction (10 page)

“Nathan, this isn't really a good time.”

He held up his hands. “I'm not leaving this porch, Emma. I'll stay here all night if I have to.”

Emma stared at him for a few seconds. Where there were once sharp angles there were now soft curves. Where there was once an air of entitlement there was now a look of resignation. She stepped back and opened the door for him. It had been twelve years since they were a couple. If he wanted to talk that was fine, but she would not let him bully her. She was stronger now.

Emma led him into the kitchen. Beyond the back windows acres of cherry blossoms glowed under a pale moon. She'd not been in the garden since she arrived.

“Let's go out back,” she said.

They sat on a cushioned bench that faced north. On a clear day the Whitefish Range dominated the view. To the east the Flathead River, still heavy with snowmelt, rumbled through the valley like a locomotive. Emma felt the pockets of her father's coat and pulled out the key she'd found in her father's office.

“What's that?” he said.

“Just something I found in my father's office. Can I get you something to drink?”

“Nah, I'm good.” He stared out toward the orchard.

“Admiring your handiwork?” she asked.

He nodded. “The lawyer handling the family's affairs says I can move into Caleb's place since it's vacant.”

Beyond the orchard, Caleb Winfrey's farmhouse was a dark silhouette. The distance had diminished with time. It felt uncomfortably close. Emma tried not to picture its unlit rooms.

“How do you feel about that?” asked Emma.

“It's a nice house, but it's got too many ghosts. Lucy and her mother were hard enough work when they were alive. Can't imagine keeping company with them now.”

“Surely, you don't believe in ghosts.”

He lifted his chin a fraction. “No, but I believe in memories and there's no escaping them when I'm in that place.”

Fearing he was right, Emma averted her gaze, setting her eyes on the Flathead River instead. The moonlit water passed in and out of shadow. Emma really wasn't ready to talk about what had happened in Caleb Winfrey's house.

“I can't get over my room,” she said. “It's like time stood still. My mom kept everything.”

He put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her in. “How you holding up?”

Emma tried to shrug him off, but his arm didn't budge. She chose her words carefully.

“Things are difficult with my mom. I get the sense that she'd rather not have me here.”

He took a moment to gather his thoughts. “Francine is in shock. She'll come around if you give her some time.”

“I know this sounds weird to say out loud, but I don't feel I've earned the right to grieve.”

Nathan twisted around to look at her. “What on earth is that supposed to mean?”

“My relationship with my father was a weekly phone call and a yearly pilgrimage to meet him in some soulless hotel.” The dull ache in her chest made speaking difficult. “If I didn't make more effort when he was alive, what right do I have to miss him now?”

“Em,” he said, pressing his lips to the top of her hair. “You haven't changed a bit. You still overthink everything. You have every right to grieve. Philip was your connection to this place, to everything that makes you who you are today.”

The coarse fabric of Nathan's shirt chafed against her cheek. She slid out from under his embrace and sat up, making a point of stretching out her back.

“I'm so stiff from the drive.”

He kneaded her shoulders hard enough to make her want to cry out.

“You have a chance to make things right with your mom,” he said. “You were close once.”

“She really resented my leaving Walleye.”

“Can you blame her?”

He'd raised his voice and she matched his tone note for note.

“I just wish she understood why I had to go. My dad did.”

“I hated you for a long time,” said Nathan. “The way you left things … it wasn't right.”

She almost told Nathan that she still hated him sometimes but decided to keep that to herself.

“I still hate Lucy,” she said.

“I pity her. She was messed up.”

Emma wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her father's jacket. She'd not realized she was crying.

“Nathan, do you remember Lucy's mother's funeral?”

“Beverly died when we were in the fourth grade. That was a long time ago.”

“But, you must remember it.”

Nathan remained silent for a long while. He kept his hands clutched in his lap when he finally spoke.

“I remember little things. I'll never forget seeing my uncle Caleb cry. I didn't think men did that. And little Lucy was so fierce in her grief. My mother had to hold her down to get her in that dress.”

“You looked so serious in your suit.”

“I had to read a poem in front of half the town.” He laughed. “I was scared shitless.”

“Lucy and I weren't even close friends back then. Our mothers were always forcing us to do stuff together, but we didn't get along.”

“She was a tomboy and you were a princess.” He held up her well-manicured hand. Her fingernails were long and painted pale pink. “Some things never change.”

“Everything changes.”

He intertwined her fingers with his one by one. “Anyway,” he said. “I always thought it was weird that she picked you out of the crowd that day.”

“At the church I gave her some candy to make her feel better. Next thing I know, I'm standing graveside at the heart of the Winfrey clan. At some point Lucy grabbed my hand.” Emma shook her head. “I didn't realize what she was up to until she started running.”

“She tried to get me to come with her, but I wasn't having any part of it.”

“It was the middle of March. We could have died from exposure.”

“But you didn't. You got her back home safe and sound.”

“It wasn't easy,” said Emma. “She fought me every step of the way. If I'd known that the next ten years would be more of the same I might have left her out there.”

“Half the town was out looking for you. Caleb had just lost Beverly. He was angry and worried all at once.”

“Lucy told me that she was running away to find her real father.”

“She was always throwing stuff like that in Caleb's face. I don't know why he put up with it.”

Emma shivered and Nathan noticed.

“Do you want to go in?” he asked. “You must be cold. It's freezing out here.”

“I should try to sleep. I've been so wired since I got here.”

“I'll keep you company,” he said. “Better than you sitting up all night by yourself.”

Their hands were still intertwined. His palms were heavily callused.

He kept his voice low. “Do you ever regret leaving?”

She pulled her hand away as she stood up.

“Emma?” he said.

“Sometimes, but it's rare.”

Emma kept her father's coat on even though the house was warm. She filled the kettle with water and switched on the burner.

“I'm making some tea. Do you want some?”

“Coffee would be nice.”

She opened the cupboard. “There's only instant.”

“Coffee is coffee.”

“We could argue that point all night.”

“I'd rather not.”

She placed their mugs on the table and sat opposite him. “I'm surprised you haven't settled down with someone yet.”

“It will happen eventually. What about you?”

“I'm not really interested,” she said.

“Don't you want to have kids?”

“I'm not crazy about the idea.”

“Come on. Everyone wants kids.”

She was careful to enunciate every word. “Maybe I'm not everyone.”

He watched her from across the top of his coffee mug. “I suppose that's possible.”

“My mother actually implied I was getting past my prime.”

“She's probably worried because you're on your own.”

Emma turned around. “How did you know that?”

“News trickles through. I also heard you had some sort of breakdown.”

“That's a gross exaggeration. I went through a bad patch. Not quite the same thing.” She put her cup down, being careful to line it up with the flowered pattern on the tablecloth. “Three years and two cities later I'm cured.”

“You sure move around a lot.”

“When my company makes a new acquisition they send in a team to handle the transition.”

“So, you fire people.”

“I have to figure out how to make things work more efficiently. Generally speaking we try to keep people in their jobs.”

“We're so different,” said Nathan. “It's hard to believe we dated for three years.”

“If you want proof it's all in my room. It's a shrine to high school romance. There are pictures of us everywhere.”

He took hold of her hands again. “Emma, I was joking. I don't need any proof.”

She made a real effort to look him in the eye. “I am sorry for how I went about things. I should have been straighter with you. The last year I was here was difficult.”

“I could tell you were just biding your time until you could leave again. I'm not going to lie. It hurt.”

“I thought things with Lucy would have calmed down a bit while I was away in England during our junior year, but it was worse when I got back. It felt as if I had to prove I was her friend over and over again.” Emma closed her eyes briefly. “She just kept raising the bar. It was like she was punishing me for going away. She couldn't see past Walleye.”

“Lucy started partying a lot the year you were away. People were saying she was getting into some pretty freaky shit. Got so bad Caleb took away her car keys so she couldn't go out.”

“That wouldn't have stopped her. When Lucy wanted something she generally got it.”

“Apparently,” he said, raising his voice. “She wanted you.”

Emma looked down at her hands. He held them so tight it was starting to hurt. She kept her voice even.

“That stuff she wrote about me in her journal. I swear it never happened.”

“You needed to say that twelve years ago … it's a little late now.”

For a long time neither of them spoke. Outside the world had slipped into shadow. Insects clung to the kitchen windows looking for light. A strong easterly blew through the orchard, stirring the fragrant cherry blossoms and rattling the little house.

“Nathan,” she said, noticing her whitening fingertips. “Could you please not hold on so tight? I'm starting to lose circulation.”

Nathan slid his hands into his pockets and watched as Emma gathered their cups.

“Is that all you've got to say for yourself?” he asked.

“I am sorry,” she stuttered. “A lot of things … I mean I should have handled things differently. I was young. If I could do it all over again, I would.”

Nathan pushed his chair back with such force it nearly toppled. “You never said a word when Caleb said all that stuff about you. You just took it.”

“That's because I blamed myself. Lucy spoke to me the day she died. She begged me to come up to the house that same night.” Never taking her eyes off Nathan, she carefully placed the cups in the sink. “I took my time and she took her life.”

“You couldn't have known that would happen.”

She folded her arms across her chest. “I knew she was capable.”

Nathan walked to the back door and stared out into the night.

“It was a long time ago. Maybe we should all try to move on.”

“What do you think I've been doing all these years?”

He placed his hand on the doorframe. “Running away isn't the same thing. You could have stayed and helped clean up the mess Lucy left behind. Everyone found out what was in her diary. I ended up looking like a fool.”

“You were at Lucy's funeral. You saw what happened. And talk about not saying a word. You should have stuck up for me then and there, but you didn't.”

“A funeral isn't the time or the place for that sort of talk.” He stood over her. “I think you were looking for an excuse to leave for good and Caleb gave you one.”

“Your uncle humiliated me in front of the whole town and you make it sound like I had a choice.”

“There's always a choice. You just made the wrong one.”

She turned away. “I'm going to bed. You can let yourself out.”

Nathan grabbed her by the arm and swung her around to face him.

“Don't speak to me like that,” he said.

“Nathan,” she said, pulling away. “I'm not eighteen. I'm not going to put up with this shit.”

“You have no idea how much you hurt me.”

“Nathan, I understand you're upset, but this isn't the way to deal with it.”

“I'm sorry,” he said, holding his hands up in defeat. “I don't understand what gets into me sometimes.”

“We were close for a long time. I know it's hard to let go, but you have to. It isn't healthy that you're still hung up on what happened between us all those years ago.”

Nathan pulled her into a deep hug and pressed his lips to the top of her head. His words were muffled.

“I replay what happened at Lucy's funeral in my head sometimes. I should have said something. Now it's too late.”

“It may have always been too late,” she said, closing her eyes and letting him hold her.

Feeling more trapped than loved, Emma stood perfectly still. She feared he'd try to kiss her if she didn't make a move soon. She didn't know what she'd do if that happened. There was always doubt lingering inside her. She'd left him and Walleye far behind, but she couldn't put her hand to her heart and swear she was happier for going. She felt so worn through with sadness that she couldn't think straight. It would be easy to vanish into their past together, but she knew that she'd only end up leaving him all over again. Nathan hadn't changed and neither had she. She could still string him along and he was still willing to follow her lead. He really had every right to hate her. She pulled away.