Discern (32 page)

My father’s call at 11:30 had awoken me, not allowing much time to get ready. I slipped the tube of concealer out of my purse and feverishly applied yet another coat, hoping to hide those dark lines. Slamming the sun visor back to its resting place, I swung open the car door.

Smoothing out my shirt to ensure no skin was showing between it and the top of my jeans, I swiftly walked through the parking lot. My phone began ringing.

“I’m here,” I answered, figuring it was my father.

“Haley?” A familiar voice spoke.

 
“Oh, crap,” I grumbled.

“Haley, please don’t hang up!” The voice shouted.

“What do you want, Braden?” I snarled.

“I’m so glad to hear your voice.”

“I can’t talk now. I’m meeting friends for lunch, and I’m already late,” I explained harshly.

“Are you all right?” he continued.

“Yes, I’m fine. Actually I’m more than fine,” I exhaled deeply. He had no clue as to how ‘fine’ I really was, unless his father had contacted to him. But I doubted Mr. Mitchell had spoken to him, because Braden would have been here getting himself killed.

“That’s good to hear. I miss you, Haley. And what you saw wasn’t what you thought it was,” he began rambling on.

“Braden, I don’t have time for this. You should just move on. There’s no chance for reconciliation. I’m very happy with my life at the moment. You should try finding peace with what happened and move on too, just as I have,” I repeated myself, intentionally trying to send a clear message.

“You can’t possibly have given up on us. We’ve known each other for years and a love like ours doesn’t come around but once in a lifetime,” he pleaded.

“I never loved you,” I said flatly. I quickly hung up the phone, knowing this would crush him. Obviously, he was still delusional about our break up—it was best to just end the call.

The restaurant’s door swung open by a departing customer. I slid inside and began searching for my father. A waving hand caught my eye.

My father sat alone at one of the booths in the back. He never sat at a table and never close to the entrance. He wasn’t anti-social, just habitual. As I got closer, I noticed four menus on the table.

“Hi, sweetie.” He stood up, giving me a hug.

“Hi, Dad,” I replied, still eyeing the extra place settings.

“Have a seat, sweetie.”

I slid into the booth seat. “Do we have company?” I asked, lifting up one of the extra menus.

“Yes,” he answered uneasily.

“Who?”

“A few friends, but they won’t be here for awhile.”

“Who?” I asked again.

“Some old acquaintances.”

“Whatever,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I thought we could have a few moments alone together. I had something important to speak with you about,” I sighed.

“Sweetie, we have awhile before they show up. And if we’re in the middle of something, they’ll just have to wait.”

A white blur caught my attention. “Interested in a beverage today, ma’ am?” a slender, young girl asked with a small tablet and pencil in hand.

“Iced tea, please,” I responded, turning my attention back to my father.

“Please continue with what you’d like to speak with me about,” he smiled and folded his hands together on the table.

I inhaled deeply, keeping my head down. “I went to mom’s grave.”

“You did?”

I gradually lifted my head to meet his stare. “Yes, I said my goodbyes to her.” I closed my eyes to fight back the tears.

He placed his hand on mine. The warmth of his touch did not compare to Andrew’s.

“How do you feel?”

“I needed closure. And…” I paused. “I want to tell you sorry.”

“Sorry for what, sweetie?”

“Sorry that I left when you needed me the most.”

“You don’t have to apologize. You had to leave to keep your sanity. I never once blamed you, I would’ve loved to do the same, but I couldn’t. I had to deal with everything head on, because that’s what you do when you’re a parent.”

The pressure from his hand squeezing mine was a little uncomfortable, but I refused to pull away. He needed this; both of us needed this moment. “I should’ve also dealt with it head on, and then I would’ve never made a mess of everything.”

The sound of a glass hitting the table disrupted our conversation. “Thanks,” I said softly, acknowledging the waitress. I slipped the paper off the top of the straw and took a quick sip of the tea.

“Are you both ready to order or are we waiting for the others to show up?” she smiled uncomfortably. It seemed obvious to her that our conversation wasn’t filled with small talk.

“We’ll order now, the others will be here later. Go ahead, Haley,” my father nodded.

“Chicken salad with two sides of light ranch dressing,” I said, handing her the menu.

“Steak, medium rare, and loaded baked potato,” my father ordered his usual.

“All right, I’ll get these orders in for you both,” she smiled and walked behind the two wooden swinging doors that lead in to the kitchen area.

“What mess have you made?” my father pressed.

“You feeling as if you had to hide your relationship with Evelyn,” I said, shaking my head, ashamed I had ever made him feel that way. “And Braden,” I muttered. A part of me hoping he would not hear.

“Now, don’t go blaming yourself for that situation. I was ashamed, not because of what you’d think of me, but what your mother might think if she saw me with another woman. I imagined it would’ve hurt her feelings,” he explained sorrowfully. “And as for Braden, that’s sometimes how young love goes. You had much healing to do from your mother’s death, and he couldn’t handle such stress. Most young boys can’t,” he offered his insight cautiously.

“Mom would want you to be happy,” I said, ignoring his advice.

“She’d want you to be happy, too,” he smiled gently.

“I know.”

“So both of us should just be happy,” he grinned widely.

“I am,” I smiled.

“Are you?”

“I’m getting there.” There were no details of my feelings I could really discuss. Anything I said would lead to another question that I wasn’t ready to answer.

“How are things at the shelter?”

“I haven’t been since Saturday, but I promised Ryan I’d volunteer tomorrow afternoon before class.” I had almost forgotten.

“Good,” he smiled. “If you keep volunteering there, then I feel it’s only fair that I make a donation,” he mentioned causally.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes. Find out what they need, and I’ll happily write out a check.” He cleared his throat.

“Thanks, Dad,” I smiled. “Mom would be so proud of us.”

“Yes, she would.”

“So are you ready to tell me who’s coming to lunch today?”

His focus was now directed to the front of the restaurant. “No need to tell you, they’re both here.”

I snapped my head in that direction. “What the hell is he doing here?” I asked angrily.

“Haley, Tom has come to me with a few concerns. No need getting upset.” His voice was wavering ever so slightly.

“And her?” I hissed.

“Evelyn has seen you with this concern also,” he said, keeping his eyes locked onto mine.

Fury ran through my veins. Mr. Mitchell was the enemy on many levels. He was not only Braden’s father; he was also involved with Andrew. Evelyn had seen me out and about with Andrew, but I made it clear to her that we were not an item.

“I know what this is about,” I fumed.

“We all just need to talk, sweetie, and figure this out.”

“So this was a set up—and to think I felt guilty just a few moments ago. I should’ve stayed away and let you rot with your worries,” I snapped.

I angrily rose from the seat, nearly knocking the plates of food out of the waitress’s hands. “I won’t be eating here today. Just put it on his check.”

“Haley, sit down,” he commanded. I had never heard this tone in my father’s voice. He had always been an easygoing man.

“No!” I shouted.

Evelyn and Mr. Mitchell stood before me. “Both of you should just mind your own damn business.” I glared at them.

“Haley, dear, we’re just concerned,” Evelyn pleaded meekly.

“Mind your own business.” I wasn’t about to back down. “And for you,” I snarled at Mr. Mitchell. “Tell your son to lose my number or else there might be trouble.” My eyes narrowed.

“Haley, sit down,” my father pleaded.

“Enjoy your lunch, Dad,” I snapped.

I pushed through Evelyn and Mr. Mitchell’s bodies, making my way to the front door. I bolted out the door, nearly running to my car. As I lifted the car door handle, someone grabbed my arm. I turned, expecting my father.

“Get your hands off of me!” I shouted.

“Haley, I can’t have you running around with Mr. Alexander,” Mr. Mitchell said sternly.

“I’m not,” I snapped. “But I’m free to date whomever I please.”

“Yes, you are. This has nothing to do with Braden and everything to do with your safety,” he insisted.

“I haven’t seen Andrew since that day. He deemed it was better to end our affair,” I lied irately.

“Haley, you aren’t fooling me.”

“I’m not trying to. I’m telling you the truth,” I growled.

“I saw you with him last night at the gas station. And then you went home and disappeared with a woman. I called your father to see who the mysterious woman was and…”

I interrupted. “Her name is Angela.”

“Oh, I know who you said she was, but after some research I discovered Angela Catrell no longer resides in
Boulder
.”

“She was just visiting,” I hissed.

“I know who it was. I know what his kind can do.”

“What did you tell my father?”

“I didn’t tell him all the details, as I’m obviously not allowed to share them, but I did inform him that Andrew has a rap sheet and was bad news.” His eyes narrowed, and his voice was harsh.

“Why are you doing this?” I asked, irritated that he had spent so much time following us around. I knew his interest in us could possibly cause trouble.

“I have to keep you safe. He isn’t kind to humans, and his interest in you is very suspicious.”

“There isn’t anything going on. We’re just friends,” I lied again.

“Haley, you have something he wants, and if you don’t succumb to his wishes, no good is going to come to you,” he warned sternly.

“He hasn’t asked for anything,” I retorted.

“He will.”

Squealing tires interrupted our conversation. A white car sped through the parking lot, nearly slamming into Mr. Mitchell. He jumped in my direction, grabbing my shoulders and pushing my body against my car.

Two men jumped out of the car. “Andrew!” I exclaimed.

He rushed to my side, ripping Mr. Mitchell off of me. “Tom, I think it’d be a good idea if you took a ride with us,” Andrew suggested.

I peeked over Andrew’s shoulder, instantly recognizing the other man. It was his brother, Alec, whom I had seen once before at the country club event.

“Yes, Tom, I think a ride’s in order.” Alec’s voice was smooth and similar to Andrew’s.

They were both a vision of perfection. Being in the presence of Andrew was already intimidating, but now I was overwhelmed with anxiety. It wasn’t just Alec’s appealing appearance—it was the possibility that he could easily snap me in half. He had no connection to me, like Andrew did.

“No need for a ride today, gentlemen.” Mr. Mitchell’s voice shook.

Andrew grabbed his arm. “We insist.”

Andrew’s eyes were blood red. He was upset and he could potentially hurt Mr. Mitchell. Although irritated with him, there was no need for him to be harmed. “I think he was just leaving,” I gulped nervously.

Andrew’s face softened momentarily as he looked down at me. “We aren’t going to hurt him. We just need to remind him of a few things.”

Mr. Mitchell reluctantly slid into the passenger seat of Alec’s car. Andrew slid the keys out of my hand. “I’ll drive,” he said, guiding me to the passenger’s door. I reluctantly got in.

“Are you okay?” he asked as he started the engine.

“Y-Yes.” My voice shook. “You aren’t going to hurt him, are you?”

“No, that would cause too much suspicion.”

“What are you guys going to say to him?” I pushed carefully.

“Just a warning,” he replied flatly.

“Okay.”

“Does your father know about us?” His voice was still flat, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Yes,” I admitted hesitantly.

“What does he know?”

“Mr. Mitchell told him that you were dangerous,” I sighed, looking away, fearing how he would react.

“Great,” he murmured.

“You aren’t going to hurt my father, are you?”