New Point (13 page)

We’ll see about that.

“I don’t want my commotion to touch anyone else,” I argue.

“When you enter a relationship, do you expect honesty from your partner?”

“Yes.”

“If that is your expectation, why aren’t you willing to reciprocate?”

“There’s no lying. I haven’t
lied
to anyone. I just want to overcome my problems without involving anyone else. That’s half the reason why I moved here. Blake would do anything to help my recovery, but I need to do this without him trying to do the work for me.” I let out a huff of frustration. “When I’m ready, I’ll tell Miles. If we get that far. We’ve only been on a couple of dates.”

Etta doesn’t let her opinion of my speech show, but to my own ears I sound defensive.

“You said the thunderstorm triggered bad memories. Let’s talk about that.”

Shutting my eyes briefly, I draw up the emotions from a few hours ago. “When the rain’s pouring down like it was last night and the sky’s blacker than ink, I get claustrophobic. There was this moment when Clinton lifted the gun and punched it into the counter next to me. The sound was loud, and I was disorientated from fear, so I thought he had shot the gun. I fell to the floor and stared up at him. In that moment I thought I was dead. When I hear the thunder and there’s all that blackness except for the flash of lightning, it’s like I’m back there on the ground, waiting for his next move.”

“How do you combat these fears when you’re in the moment?”

Scoffing, I shake my head. “Nothing. Last night I lay there praying the storm would end soon.”

“Next time there’s a storm, or you find yourself in a situation like last night, I want you to journal. Let whatever thoughts and feelings you have spill out on the page.”

“What will I do with the journal after I write in it?”

“Ultimately that’s your decision. I would like us to discuss it. At the very least, I’d like you to re-read it.”

“Okay. I will try that.”

“Good.” She nods, jotting another note.

“You mentioned Blake. Let’s talk more about him…”

Not surprisingly, I feel ten times better at the end of my session with Etta. Before we wrap up our meeting, she tosses one more question my way.

“You mentioned a few times that the incident nine months ago was the worst day of your life.”

“Yes,” I reply slowly, not knowing where she’s going with the statement.

“Why is that the worst day of your life, and not when you lost your parents?”

I give her joyless smile, shaking my head. “Losing my parents was heartbreaking, earth-shattering, no doubt. I miss them all the time. After they died I did my best to become the woman they were raising me to be. I’ve made it my mission to learn from the best parts of their personalities; my dad’s work ethic, Mom’s zest for life and love of all people. But the day Clinton Smith entered my life, I lost sight of the person I wanted to become to make my parents proud.” A dejected sigh escapes my lips. “I want to make them proud again.”

With a critical eye Etta watches me. “I can’t agree with you that you aren’t
making them proud. However, you’ve set the challenge for us.”

“What’s that?”

She smiles cheerfully. “Proving your assessment wrong. Clinton Smith didn’t steal your personality away. You’ll see everything you want to be has been there along.”

“I would like that,” I admit tentatively.
Dr. Greene was right to send me to Etta,
I realize with some level of contentment.

With my comment wrapping up the conversation, she invites me to set up a recurring appointment. We decide Wednesday at lunch will be our regular date. Once the appointment is scheduled in her calendar, Etta walks me outside, locking the door to her office behind us.

“I’m taking my therapist hat off now,” she says with a wry smile. “What else do you have planned for the weekend? I’m sure you know the boys left me.”

I smile politely, wondering if she’s implying we should spend time together outside of her office. “Nothing too exciting; preparation for camp this week, some reading.”

“Listen, Zoe, I know it’s not appropriate for us to be friends now, but I fully expect to be friends once we wrap our professional relationship.”

I eye her curiously. “Is that possible?”

“We’ll make it possible. I don’t think Miles will ever forgive me if I don’t befriend you.”

My lips tilt up at the mention of Miles. “Why’s that?”

“My brother’s completely smitten with you. Every time someone mentions your name, I swear his eyes light up like they did on Christmas morning when we were kids. You’ve got a serious admirer in my brother.”

Pleasure must radiate out of me, because she grins broadly.

“The feeling’s mutual.”

I
sludge through the remainder of Saturday, faking brightness when Blake calls me to check in Sunday morning. Without Miles there to distract me, I spend most of the time chastising myself for suffering through more anxious spells.

When the knock comes early Sunday afternoon, I’m not prepared for a visitor. I’m wrapped up in my own thoughts, and I don’t bother to peer out the peephole to see who’s behind the door. It’s New Point, what do I really have to worry about?

Miles has an expectant smile spread across his face when I open the door wide. With one arm casually braced against the doorframe exposing his toned body, I swear he could be a model. A couple days’ worth of stubble has grown on his cheeks. I wonder what it would feel like if he nuzzled it against my skin while he kissed me.

“Hi,” he says huskily, and my heart takes off, racing with pleasure at the sight of him.

“Welcome back.” Try as I might to smile, I know it’s not my most genuine one.

“Hey.” He steps closer and captures my chin between his thumb and pointer finger. Deep brown eyes bore into mine worriedly. “Something’s bothering you. Tell me how I can fix it.”

He’s so good to me.

For a second I want to spill all of my troubles to him to lighten my load for a few minutes.

Stop.
Miles will never look at me the same, and I won’t have that.

Instead of revealing anything, I close my eyes and exhale. “Change. Adjusting to this new lifestyle is challenging.” My eyes flicker open, and this time my smile’s real but rueful. “If I was bored on the weekend, I’d crash at Blake’s or go out with friends.”
At one time in my life, at least.
“I’m trying to get my bearings, and it’s a slow process.”

“We can’t have you being bored in New Point. There’s a lot to do in our thriving metropolis.” His eyes glitter teasingly. I can’t help but be cheered up by his infectious optimism. “Come with me, I want to take you someplace special.”

Sit at home and mope or spend time with Miles? Easiest decision ever. “Okay.”

The tension in his face melts away. “Grab a sweatshirt, you might get cold.”

Somewhere special turns out to be the middle of Lake Michigan. Miles drives us to the marina not far from our homes. His parents, who are currently on vacation, own a speedboat.

Behind the wheel of the boat, Miles is all confidence and grace, smoothly navigating out onto the water while I watch from a bench seat along the length of the rear of the boat. Summer’s just barely begun, so there’s still a breeze, and a chill runs through me once Miles joins me on the seat.

“It’s peaceful out here,” I muse as the gentle lull of the lake rocks the boat.

He agrees with a hum. “How many times do you think I kicked myself for not getting your phone number before I left for this camping trip?”

My nose wrinkles when I giggle. “You prefer a more primitive method of communication.”

“What’s that?”

“Messages in the sand.” I turn sideways on the bench, hugging my knees to my chest and propping my chin on top of them. I study him as he chuckles. He’s wearing a pair of black Wayfarers that are masking his eyes and a casual white v-neck t-shirt. He’s the epitome of casual sex appeal. I want to kiss that patch of skin at the base of his neck. And wherever else he’d let me.

“You’re going to make this hard on me, aren’t you?” His bare feet flex when he crosses his ankles, stretching a hand casually along the length of the seat’s backrest.

“Every time I see one of your sand messages, it makes my heart skip a beat,” I tell him honestly.

His arm drifts away from the backrest and moves toward me. Miles pushes a tendril of hair behind my ear, fingers lingering on the shell. “Wait til you see what I can do with a text message.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “Duke’s pretty lucky to have an uncle who would accompany him on a camping trip.”

“Duke needs a male role model while his dad’s overseas. Before he left, Will asked me to look after them. I take that request damned seriously.” His fingers tighten slightly around my ear.

I reach up to grab his hand, fitting our fingers together. “When will he be back?”

“End of the summer and for good this time. Their family needs to be back together, and Etta wants more time to devote to her patients. Did she tell you she’s a psychologist?” Pride rings in his tone. “She didn’t want to start working full-time until Will’s back home.”

He tells me about the construction company Will and his brother own. I tune in and out of the conversation while he retells how it was their company in charge of the renovation of my own home. I’m stuck on Etta. Clearly she hasn’t told her brother about our meetings in her office. On some level I knew she would stay true to her doctor-patient promise, and this only confirms it.

“Did Will help with Blue in Green’s reconstruction?” I ask when the realization of Etta’s silence stops turning in my mind.

“He was deployed during most of the work, but he helped with the plans before he left. I worked alongside the crew.” He wiggles his hand out of mine, holding it up between us. “Went from a novice with a hammer to a full-blown contractor. See how my thumb isn’t straight? Banged it one too many times.”

I can’t help myself. “That’s what she said.”

He throws back his head in laughter. And though I know he may be laughing at my dorkiness, I can’t help but admire the strong column of his tanned neck.

When he gets ahold of his laughter, Miles asks, “Did you really say that?”

Groaning, I attempt to my cover my face with my hands. “Corniest joke. Sometimes I don’t think before I speak.”

“That’s something I like about you.” Suddenly he’s serious. Miles tugs off his sunglasses, revealing a wistful expression. “There’s no games with you, no pretenses, no lies.”

“Someone lied to you.” I say before I can stop myself for being too nosy.

He grimaces slightly. “Now’s probably a good a time as any to tell you the story. Lacey and I started dating at the end of high school. I thought she was the woman I’d spend the rest of my life with. At the time, I thought there was nothing,
no one
better than her.” His gaze turns hard, and he averts it to stare off into the horizon. “There was no question when I went off to college if we would stay together. We were Lacey and Miles. Nothing could come between us. Stupidly, I thought we were in a committed, monogamous relationship. She didn’t go to college, didn’t have any aspirations outside of marrying a football player, I guess. When it became obvious my freshman year that I didn’t want to pursue a career as an athlete, she started pulling away. Turns out she was with whatever guy rolled through New Point, and even tried starting something with Will’s younger brother.” He shakes his head in disgust.

“Miles, I had no idea. I’m so–”

“I didn’t tell you about my history with Lacey to get your sympathy. The hurt from that wore off long time ago. I’m telling you this because I trust you.” His eyes meet mine, and this time they’re curious. “I want you to trust me enough to tell me about this.” The ring on my middle finger twists when he pushes it with his pointer finger.

I’m not wary of telling him this story.

“You’ve lived in New Point your whole life so you must have heard the story about the family vacationing…”

“Heard it from the biddies around town. Who knows how they twisted the story through their convoluted games of telephone.”

A smile teases my lips. Even though gossip makes me uncomfortable, I know there’s no maliciousness to the small town rumors. “Free spirit would be a nice way to describe my mom. She was impulsive, flighty, and impatient about everything except Blake and me. When it came to her kids, Mom was fiercely loyal and loving to a fault. Beyond all of that, she was mesmerizing. Captivated every man who came her way, including Stewart, Blake’s dad, my own father, and, later, the man she was having an affair with.”

Miles’ expression doesn’t change, judgment doesn’t color his eyes, and I feel myself falling a little more for him.

“We’re not sure if my dad knew about the affair when they bought the New Point house. Mom shielded me from their arguments as best she could, brushing them under the rug like it was all fine. The night they died, they had fought about the affair, and I overheard them. My mom managed to calm Dad down enough to go out to dinner. She wanted to reconcile with him, I think. Even though I was ten, I was a mature ten. That’s what my mom told me right before she made me spaghetti for dinner and kissed me goodbye. Dad was so angry with her he didn’t say a word to me. He ran out to the car and honked from the driveway to get her attention. And that was the last time I saw them. On their way to dinner some drunk kid killed himself and them.” Only when I fall silent do I realize my voice is trembling, and Miles is running his thumb over my knuckles reassuringly.