A Heart of Time (12 page)

Mom hands me the envelope she’s been holding tightly in her hands and pulls Olive into her. “I know, sweetheart. This is just grownup talk.”

Olive looks up at her, gazing straight into Mom’s eyes. “He does the best he can,” she says, following her last defense.

Mom closes her eyes, hopefully realizing she’s gone too far once again. “You’re right, Olive,” she says. With a loud sigh, Mom stands back up and walks into the kitchen, calling out, “Harold, it’s time to go.” And this is how most Sundays end. Mom’s feelings get hurt and Dad leaves all discombobulated from his food coma.

Dad meanders into the living room, rubbing at his eyes. “What’s going on?”

“Just the usual invitation to leave,” Mom says to him as if I told them to leave. Her passive aggressive comment isn’t worth the argument, though. I learned long ago that I won’t win, and she will just end up feeling more hurt.

“Well, I guess we’ll see you next Sunday,” Dad says lazily. He leans down and squeezes Olive, then thwacks his hand against my back. “Take care of yourself, kiddo.”

Mom gives me a cold hug and sighs against my cheek. “I love you even if you hate me.” More motherly guilt, but I’m not letting it get to me today.

They walk out together, leaving a gust of silence behind them as the door slams. “It’s okay, Daddy,” Olive says.

“Am I really doing okay?” I ask her.

She wraps her arms around my leg, leaning her face against my side. “You’re doing great,” Olive replies. “Oh! I almost forgot! I have to get ready to go Lana’s!” I look down at my watch, seeing it’s already four. Where the hell did this day go?

After a couple of hours of mindlessly watching the game, I pull out my phone and send Charlotte a text—refocusing on where my thoughts have all been going since I left her house a couple hours ago.

Me: Pizza?

Charlotte: Yeah…‘
whatever’
;).

Me: Pizza and ‘
whatever’
. Got it.

As I slip my phone back into my pocket, the thought of a decision I’ve made plays out in my head, where I feel a combination of desire and fear beating the shit out of each other. Growing up, my situation was different than the average guy; I was only with one woman because there was no other woman for me. I don’t know what another woman would even be like, whether she would be different, better or worse.

Neither Ellie nor I knew what we were doing when we took that step in our relationship. We were sixteen and her parents had to go out of town for the weekend. She said she was scared to stay home alone all night, so I told her I’d come over, regardless of her parents’ strict rules of no boys in the house when they weren’t home. When it came to rules for Ellie and me, we broke every single one. Young love isn’t something to tamper with since our hormones were raging at a rate I still have trouble comprehending.

We were only friends, best friends, until a few months before that particular weekend.

Everything between us shifted during a birthday party with the good old Spin-the-Bottle game. As fate had it, the combination of momentum and the velocity of the bottle wanted us to kiss.

The moment I had imagined most nights as I was falling asleep was only seconds away from happening. I was going to savor the taste of her lips. She moved toward me first, quickly to start, then much slower as the space between us closed. Her focus was locked on mine. There were no apparent nerves, just a small smile, a smile I would see so many more times throughout our lifetime—her lifetime. She closed her eyes, waiting for me to meet her halfway, which felt like a mile in that moment. My heart pounded, sweat was beading on my forehead, and my breath lodged in my throat. It was a
now-or-never
moment. I considered it being a
never
because I thought if I didn’t have the balls to do it at that second, I would never be able to do it. My eyes closed and I leaned forward, forgetting about the two-dozen eyes staring at what would be our first kiss. Music was playing in my head, my heart was no longer pounding, but dribbling a slow beat as my fingers swept across her cheek and into her silky blond curls. Our lips were only separated by two inches of air, filled with magnetizing particles of attraction. Adrenaline took over and our lips met. It wasn’t one of those passionate kisses like we had when we were older, where I would surprise her from behind and lift her up until she was pinned against a wall beneath my grip. This one was stationary, pretty much devoid of motion, our lips connecting and locking into place as we sat there for what felt like hours. I took the opportunity to inhale her skin and the fragrance of her shampoo. Everything changed and happened in that one second—I fell in love with my best friend. Just before our kiss ended, her lips made one small movement—they curled into a smile I could feel against my mouth.

When she pulled away, and she had to because I never would have, her hazel eyes were wide and I swear to God I saw a twinkle in them. That shit doesn’t really happen, but it did in that moment.

What the fuck am I doing? “Olive,” I yell up to her.

“Yeah?” she shouts, hopping down the steps in her party dress.

“I’m not feeling so well, sweetie.”

“Oh no, do you need me to call the doctor?” she asks. “Do you need soup? I can call Charlotte.”

“No, no soup—or Charlotte. I just need to lie down for a bit,” I tell her.

“No Lana’s?”

I look at her sad eyes for a long minute, trying to think of a way to explain to her why it’s not a good idea to go over there but there is no way to make her understand that I’m scared of feeling something even remotely close to what I felt for Ellie. I will tarnish memories. I’ll forget sensations, feelings, and what my heart once felt like.

My phone vibrates in my pocket and I pull it out, seeing AJ’s mug appear on my screen. I answer, asking, “What’s up?”

“I might need you to come get me,” he says.

“Where the hell are you?”

“Downtown,” he says simply.

“You had too much to drink?”

“No.”

“AJ, where the hell are you?”

“County jail,” he mutters.

“Jesus, AJ. What the hell did you do?”

“Please,” he begs quietly.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.” I drop the phone onto the couch and grab Olive’s jacket from the coat hook. “I’m taking you over to Lana’s. Grab your things,” I tell Olive.

“What about you?” she asks. “I want you to come, too.”

“I need to go help Uncle first.”

I scoop her up, along with the Barbie dolls she planned on taking over to Lana’s. We run across the street Charlotte opens the door as we approach. The front step. The poor thing opens the door with a large grin, but I’m about to ruin that.

“AJ got locked up; I have to go get him out,” I tell her.

“What?” she asks, shocked. “What the hell did he do?”

“No clue.”

Charlotte takes Olive by the arm and pulls her into the house. “Come in, honey, Lana’s upstairs. Go on up.” Olive turns back around and gives me a quick hug before she runs inside. “Do you need me to do anything?”

“No, if you could just watch Olive, I’ll let you know as soon as I find out what happened. I should just leave the moron there, but—“

“That’s not who you are,” she says, pushing up onto her toes and leaving me with a soft kiss on my cheek. “There’s always time for ‘
whatever’
later.” Her words float into my ear, crashing into my already confused thoughts, and I respond with a smile.

I should say more to her, like,
I can’t wait
, or something, but words don’t come to me, so instead I just wrap my arm around her shoulders and leave her with a kiss on the top of her head. “I’ll let you know as soon as I find out what’s going on.”

CHAPTER TEN

“Really?” is all
I have to say to AJ as he walks through the alarmed door in the Sheriff’s office.

“I can explain,” he mutters. His usual happy-go-lucky grin isn’t plastered across his face and his eyes are half-lidded. Actually, he’s got a black eye. AJ is a lot of things, but he isn’t a fighter, so this surprises me a bit and I ease back on some of my anger.

“What the hell happened to you?” I ask him quietly.

He avoids my question as he turns to the security window. An officer hands him a small pile of belongings and AJ turns around, still avoiding me while he heads for the main door.

As we make it out to the car, the silence becomes alarming. He can’t find one word to explain how he managed to get himself arrested tonight? “Unlock the door,” he says.

“Not until you tell me what happened.”

“Alexa happened,” he growls, pressing his thumb into his bottom lip, which I now see is split open.
My God
.

“Alexa did this to you?” I ask, sounding doubtful. That girl is by no means big enough to do the type of damage that has been done to him, so there has to be more to this story.

“No, she had the bouncer do this to me,” he says. With the little amount of information I have, I decide to cut him a break and unlock the truck doors. AJ slides in and slams the door behind him. Once I get in, his mouth starts moving. “I wasn’t doing anything wrong. I was talking to the bartender when Alexa came in. She said some shit to the bouncer and the next thing I knew, the asshole’s fist was in my mouth. Instinctively, I swung back. Once. That was all it took for the bar manager to call the cops. That’s why I’m here.”

“Look,” I say. “This is none of my business, but as your brother, I’ve been telling you this for years...that girl is no good for you. She never made you happy. You proposed to her because she threatened you. I don’t condone your cheating habits, but you need to do what’s right.”

“I was going to tell her when I got home, you know, that I want a divorce and shit, but I needed a little liquid confidence before I did that.”

“You need a place to crash?” AJ has more or less been living at my house or wherever I have lived since Ellie died. He sleeps at home, but the rest of the time, he’s with me. I do give him credit for putting up with Alexa for as long as he has, but I’m pretty sure there’s no good that will come out of him being under the same roof as her right now.

“Yeah, I do,” he confirms, settling his weight against the back of the seat.

It’s only a few-minute ride before we pull into the driveway. I hop out and head across the street to grab Olive. There is definitely no ‘
whatever
’ happening here tonight, especially with AJ on my heels.

I open the door and let myself in. I guess we’ve gotten to the point where knocking isn’t completely necessary. Actually, I don’t remember the last time Charlotte knocked on my door. It’s almost like we’re in a relationship that doesn’t involve the normal parts of a relationship. I’ve made this weird and she has gladly put up with it. It suddenly occurs to me that she has actually put up with quite a bit from me. I’ve been so caught up in my guilt over cheating on Ellie that I haven’t appreciated Charlotte for accepting me with all my baggage, for being a friend without asking for more than I can give. I need to change that...to let her know how much I appreciate her...how I feel about her.

How
do
I feel about her? My thoughts are all over the place and change by the minute. It’s not fair to do that to her.

“Olive fell asleep about twenty minutes ago,” Charlotte informs me as she perks up from the couch. “If you want to leave her, I can bring her home in time for you to get her ready for school in the morning.” Charlotte’s voice is less charismatic than usual. Although I can’t pinpoint the emotion I hear, I actually think she sounds annoyed.

“Can you give us a minute?” I ask AJ.

“Thanks for watching Olive,” AJ says to Charlotte. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” AJ slips back out the door, carefully closing it behind him so it doesn’t make a sound.

“Charlotte,” I begin.

“It’s fine, really. Family comes first,” she says coolly as she takes the throw blanket from the couch and slowly folds it in half. “I feel like there’s a part of you missing from whatever it is we’re doing, anyway.” Her focus doesn’t leave the blanket. She can’t look at me when she says this, which I can’t understand.
Did I miss something?
How’d we go from planning “whatever” to the cold shoulder in a matter of hours?

“Because I went to bail AJ out of jail?”

“No,” she sighs. “That’s not why.”

“What is it then? Am I shitty kisser or what? Because we haven’t exactly proven any other way for me to not be ‘all in’.” I know exactly what she means, but I thought I was hiding it a little better than I am. Guess not.

“Uh, no.” She laughs and her cheeks burn with a red tinge. “You’re an incredible kisser, probably the best I’ve ever...like
ever
...experienced, but I feel like I’m stealing you away from something else, like your heart isn’t completely available...if that makes sense.”

“What have I done to make you think that?”
What haven’t I done to make her think that?

“We all have secrets, Hunter. I get that and I would never expect you to open up after only knowing me for a few months, but while I understand, I also can’t help wondering what you aren’t telling me for other reasons.” I wish I knew what she was referring to. What secrets do I have? I feel like I’ve been more of an open book with her than I’ve been with anyone else in the last five years.

“I don’t know what secrets you’re referring to,” I say, and I’m being honest.

“Great, well, we’re at a place now where I need to know what your plans are. If you need a fuck buddy, just say it. If you want to be friends, that’s cool, too. I guess you’ve just sent me on a whirlwind with your mixed messages today when you kissed me. You already know how I feel about you, Hunter, but despite some sweet words you have nicely offered to me, I don’t know what is going through your head and I don’t know how long I can pretend to be okay with it.” I’m totally baffled by the change in her attitude, and this is the last thing I need right now.

“Well, that makes two of us!” My voice rises louder than I intended but fury is bubbling in my stomach and this is the exact reason why I’ve avoided getting too close to anyone over the past few years. “I didn’t realize you needed to put a label on us or whatever we’re doing, especially since we haven’t really done anything, but if you want to put a label on us, then go ahead and slap a big fat ‘friends’ one on.”

“I think it’s time for you to leave,” she says in almost a whisper.

“Daddy?” Olive tiptoes down the steps one by one as she rubs at her eyes. “Are we going home?”

“Let’s go, princess,” I say, squatting down to lift her up.

“Will you tell Lana I’ll see her at school tomorrow?” Olive mutters to Charlotte.

“You got it, kiddo,” she says in return. With a smile for Olive, her lips curl into a grimace as she looks over at me. “Now.” Her finger is pointed at the door and it’s enough of a gesture to make me want to walk out and never walk back inside. It’s just unfortunate that our little girls are as close as they are.

What the hell just happened? Did I say something wrong when I dropped Olive off? If she isn’t pissed about me bailing AJ out, which would be ridiculous, what is it?

As we walk in through the front door of our house, AJ immediately snatches Olive up. “Boy do I have a story for you, Ollie-Lolly.” He starts up the stairs with her and her arms tighten around his neck.

“G-rated, please,” I yell up the stairs.

Alone and pissed, I kick my boots off, letting each one thud against the wall. What the fuck am I doing? I drop down into the chair beneath Ellie’s picture and let my head fall backwards until I’m looking up at her. “You must be so disgusted with my behavior,” I tell her. “Since you’re probably already rolling over in your grave, I might as well finish the night off.” I get up and walk through the kitchen, whipping the top cabinet above the fridge open to retrieve my bottle of Jack—the bottle I sometimes flirt with after Olive goes to bed.

“Grab a glass for me,” AJ says, walking in behind me. I was going to drink straight out of the bottle, but I guess a glass means I have someone to drink with—that at least sounds better than drinking alone. I grab two glasses and fill them halfway, leaving the Jack out in case there is a need for seconds.

“You aren’t drinking because of me, are you?” AJ asks.

“Nope,” I say, pressing the rim of the glass up against my lips.

“Is it about the letter I found on your coffee table?” Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I tip the glass a little higher, letting the liquid burn down my throat at a pretty impressive rate. “Or is it about Charlotte? Or maybe, it’s about the woman at the gardens.” How? Just how? “Dad filled me in. Dude...how many chicks do you have? Here I thought you were impotent and you’re banging three of them?”

“Not quite,” I say, finishing the whiskey in my glass.

AJ grabs the bottle and walks out into the living room. “Let’s hear it.”

At some point tonight the hour hand on the clock turned from eight to two and I can already feel the hangover I’m going to sustain tomorrow...or today...in three hours when I have to get Olive up for school. I just hope I’m sober by then. AJ is slurring his words, bitching about Alexa, and I’m staring across the room at Ellie’s portrait. “We’re both...pathetic fucks,” I tell him.

“You’re more pathetic than I am,” AJ says. “Your wife has been dead for five years and you’re still staring at her picture like she’s going to start responding to you at some point.” His words would normally cause my rage to fire up, but since he’s already had the shit beat out of him in the past twenty-four hours, he’s been drinking, and there’s a little validity to what he’s saying, I’ll let it go this time. Only this time.

“You need to talk to this chick in the gardens some more,” AJ says. “And you need to make up with Charlotte. Wait, didn’t you fix things with her earlier today?” He takes another swig.

“I thought so,” I groan. “Dude, I’m so fucking confused. I have real feelings for Charlotte…I do. I want to be with her, more than just this stupid friend-shit. I’m always looking forward to the next time I see her and I’m always thinking of reasons to call her at night. That means something, right?” I consider my drunken truths for a minute, realizing I’m running away from what I want because of the amount of unanswered questions in my life. “But then I’m like...what about the chick behind the letters? I want to find Ellie’s heart, too. I don’t think Charlotte will understand that.” Never mind the woman from the gardens. I’ll probably never see her again anyway.

“I can see your problem,” AJ says. “Oh my God, Hunt, what if—what if the letters are from Ellie’s ghost?” AJ says, closing his eyes. “You know what, no—“ He wags his finger at me for a long minute. “No, you know what dude? You’re my brother, my blood, my blood brother, you know—“ His breaths elongate as if he’s about to fall asleep. “So, I’m going to help you. Plus, you bailed me out tonight, you’re letting me crash here, and you’ve been a pretty damn good brother. I’ll help you, Hunt. I’ll help you find this mystery girl of yours.”

“Thanks, man,” I say, feeling the heaviness in my eyelids begin to take over as well.

“What if?” AJ says, pulling me from my almost tranquil place. “What if you already know this letter-writing woman? Could you imagine?”