Love and Sorrow (Small Town Secrets Book 5) Page 3

“Hold on a sec. Don’t get your panties in a bunch, darlin’. I just need to finish up what I’m doing here. I’ll be there, okay? Just give me a little bit.”

  It was then that I let out the breath I didn’t even know I’d been holding in. “Okay.” Deep down, I wondered what it was he had to finish up—but I didn’t actually want to know. Instead, I was grateful that he was coming to rescue me from my brain.

  Although it seemed like hours while I waited, smoking several cigarettes in that small room, it was actually less than thirty minutes before he arrived. When he got there, he sent a text like he always did instead of ringing the doorbell for my kids’ sake. I rushed to the front of the house, opening the door as I felt a strange and overwhelming onslaught of emotions welling in my chest. “I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you. Thank you so much.” Before Justin could even make it through the door, I wrapped my arms around him tightly.

  “Whoa. What’s goin’ on?”

  “Too much.”

  He followed me in and we sat on the sofa.

  His voice was appropriately soft, considering my house was small and the hallway leading to the bedrooms seemed to act like a megaphone. “Well, do you wanna tell me about it?”

  I looked at Justin, really looked. Damn, I had it bad for this man. His warm brown eyes searched mine as I tried to focus.

  Could I tell him anything?

  “Sarah set a fire in the girls’ bathroom trash this afternoon.”

  “Shit. That’s the kind of stuff I did in high school.”

  Wait a second. What? “It’s not cool and it’s not funny. Something’s going on with her.”

  “Aw, Randi, she’s just a kid. Kids do shit like that. It gets attention.”

  “It’s not just shit like that. And it’s negative attention. She was suspended.”

  “Suspended?”

  “Yeah.” Maybe this was a bad idea, asking Justin to come over. Unfortunately, he was one of the few friends I had.

  “For how long?”

  “The rest of the week.”

  After a few moments of silence, he rested his hand on my knee. “You gonna be okay?”

  Letting out a long sigh, I said, “I think so.” Then I looked in his eyes. “It’s just been a rough day.”

  “I can tell.”

  “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it, so I couldn’t go to sleep.”

  “That’s why I came. You can tell me all about it.”

  That was one of the things I loved about this man. Unlike any of my past relationships, Justin actually listened when I had things on my mind.

  Tonight, though, I wanted to get this shit out of my head—just for now, just long enough to go to sleep.

  “I actually don’t want to talk about it, though. I’m tired of thinking about it right now. Can we maybe talk about something else? What did you do today?”

  “I replaced a fuel pump. That’s about it.” His hand that hadn’t left my knee squeezed slightly as his lip curled into a small smirk. “I know what you need.” Then he leaned over, kissing my neck.

  This wasn’t why I’d called him over.

  Actually…maybe it was.

  I closed my eyes as my nipples grew taut in response to his warm lips brushing against the soft skin of my neck. What better way to clear my mind?

  Because I had no argument, I stood, taking his hand in mine as we headed toward my bedroom.

  * * *

  I climbed back in bed, having finished another cigarette, and looked at Justin’s back as he lay in my bed, softly snoring. Amazing sex should have done the trick and yet here I was still tossing shit around in my head. I’d drifted off for all of twenty minutes and then woke up again—but now I had some solid theories.

  The first was that Justin was the problem with Sarah. Somehow, some way, and maybe not (God, I hoped not) intentionally.

  The second was me, that I was the problem. I’d started college classes two nights a week a little over a year ago. Maybe being gone more had caused Sarah to retreat into a shell…and become angry.

  I let out a long breath, pulling my knees close to my chest, gazing at Justin’s outline. The lights were off in my room, but the nightlight in the hallway shone inside. God, I didn’t want to believe Justin had anything to do with Sarah’s change in behavior any more than I wanted to blame myself—but I had to face facts: either scenario was a possibility, and I’d have to explore both notions further.

  Even in the dim light, my eyes were able to focus on part of the tribal tattoo painted on his back. The black wavy swirls over the entire breadth of his left shoulder had always fascinated me. Then I drank in his mass of longish dirty-blond hair. While he’d never let it grow past his shoulders, the unconventional length gave him a bit of a bad boy look, and I had to admit I liked that. I’d never said a word about it to him, but I suspected he knew anyway. Justin was one of the most confident men I’d ever met, and I knew he had no doubt that lots of women lusted after him. In fact, I was pretty certain he’d learned over the years how to play on his looks.

  Jesus. I had to get some sleep or I’d have a hell of a time getting Devon to school tomorrow. I lay down, snuggling up to Justin, draping my arm over his torso while bringing my head close to his neck, breathing in the almost nonexistent scent of his cologne.

  But I lay there as one minute ticked on to the next and the next, and I allowed my eyes to open again so they could trace the outline of that tattoo and I leaned back. After a bit, I rolled over again and started considering having another cigarette. It was then that I felt the motion of Justin rolling over onto his back, but I could barely understand the words he mumbled. “You’re pretty restless tonight.”

  “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

  “Let it go, Randi. Just for tonight. It’ll all be there tomorrow.”

  Easy for him to say. He’d been sound asleep. “I wish I could.”

  What Justin said next surprised me, because it seemed out of character for him—which just hammered home to me how completely closed off I’d been from every soul I claimed to care about.

  Except Justin was just a convenient friend, one who’d even called himself nothing more than a fuck buddy.

  “It’s a choice. You have to decide to let it go just for now.”

  Instead of tuning into his words, I rejected them. “Okay, fine. Then I guess I don’t want to.” I let out a long sigh, sitting up in bed again. “This is my little girl we’re talking about here. Somehow I’ve failed her.”

  Justin finally rolled over to face me, his voice now sounding more awake. “Why do you think you’ve failed her?”

  “Whatever’s going on with her has been happening for a long time. It took something this drastic for me to decide something needs to be done.”

  Propping his chin in his palm, his elbow buried in the pillow, Justin finally opened his eyes—not that he could see a whole lot in the darkness of the bedroom. “You can’t blame yourself for that. You were hoping it was a phase. Anyone would do that.”

  “I’m not so sure.” When Justin reached up, brushing the hair off my cheek with his free hand, I turned my head to face him. “Let me tell you what’s really eating at me. She didn’t start acting like this until last fall—maybe it was a little later, like around Christmas. But I’m thinking this behavior might be, um…she might be reacting to the fact that I’m going to school again and I’m here less, or…”

  “Or maybe it’s because I’m around?”

  I hoped he couldn’t hear the relief in my voice that he’d come to the same conclusion I had. “I’ve considered that.”

  “It’s possible.”

  “I know you didn’t know her that well before, but did she seem to change to you at all?”

  “Like how?”

  “Like…did she seem to act differently? She used to be so lively, cheerful, outgoing. And now she’s introverted, quiet. She hardly ever talks. She doesn’t even look happy, even when she should.”

  “I don’t kno
w. I mean, I guess I didn’t know your kids well enough to know what they were like before.” We were quiet for a bit before he said, “Do you think I remind her of her stepdad?”

  I didn’t even have to give it a lot of thought. “I doubt it. He was…you guys are really different. He was a big guy, hairy, burly, loud. And she hasn’t been around him much since the divorce. So I don’t think so.”

  “I’m a big guy.”

  “No, not like that. He was hulking, really broad in the shoulders—and you’re…I’m not making any sense.”

  “What did he do for a living?”

  “Truck driver—and it wasn’t long before I appreciated when he was on the road. I think that’s when I finally decided I’d had enough, when I saw how happy the kids and I were when he wasn’t around. We were—well, I was more like my old self. But maybe you’re right. Sarah was a lot quieter when he was around. I’d always thought she sensed my emotions, but she must have felt like I did…afraid that anything she might say could push his buttons, so it was safer to not say anything at all.”

  “I can be loud sometimes, and I get pretty intense. Maybe I remind her of him when I’m like that.”

  “Maybe.” But no. Justin was nothing like my ex.

  He rested his hand on my arm. “Maybe I should disappear for a while.”

  That was what I feared—but it was what had been in the back of my mind all along. Justin was one of few friends and probably the only one I fully trusted, so I absolutely hated the idea of him not being around.

  But Sarah was my obligation and she was far more important than any other relationship I might have. From the moment I learned I was pregnant, her life became more important than my own.

  My voice was quiet and sounded choked as I forced the words out. “I’d thought of that—but then I also thought she doesn’t actually see you very often. Could you really have that effect on her when you’re not here much?” Justin was never alone with her, so I wasn’t worried about him doing anything weird. Still…

  “Ya never know.”

  “I’m going to get her into counseling. That’s what the principal and counselor at the school suggested. Maybe a therapist could help her deal with whatever it is she’s going through.” Suddenly, I was overcome with emotion, and a tear formed in the corner of my eye. “I definitely can’t.”

  Justin drew me into his arms and held me close. “Hey. Why don’t we give it a whirl? I can disappear for a while. If it’s me that’s making her this way, maybe she’ll open up when I’m not around.” I nodded, still fighting back tears as he continued. “And if nothing changes, then maybe it’s not me.” I looked up at him and, uncharacteristically, he kissed my nose. Then he bent his neck to the side, stretching. “I’d better go now.”

  But I kept my arms wrapped around him. “Not right now. I’m not ready yet.”

  He kissed me again, this time with passion and promise, and we made love one last time. Sometime after I finally drifted into a restless sleep, Justin pulled on his clothes and left, closing the door behind him.

  Chapter Three

  The next morning, I felt utterly exhausted and found it nearly impossible to crawl out of bed, but after hitting snooze three times, I knew I had to get my ass up. By the time I got to the kitchen to make coffee, Devon was already sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast. “Morning, mom.”

  “Good morning, sweetheart. How’d you sleep?”

  “Fine.” While I started filling the coffee carafe with water, he scooped up another spoonful of frosted flakes from his bowl. “Was Justin here last night?” he asked before putting the spoon in his mouth.

  I shut off the water. “Yes, for a while.”

  “I knew it.”

  What did my young son even mean? That aside, if Devon knew Justin had been over last night, then Sarah likely did as well. And knowing that Justin had been here—what kind of effect did that have on my kids?

  Did they know how often he’d been in my bed?

  So I finished making the coffee and then sat down at the table. Maybe now was the time to dip my toe into potentially troubled waters. “What do you think of Justin, bud?”

  “He’s nice, I guess.”

  “Do you like him?”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “Do you think he’s trying to replace your dad?”

  As the coffee pot started making noises, coming to life, Devon gave me a big smile. “He couldn’t do that, mom. My dad’s my dad.”

  “I’m glad you said that. Because he’s not trying to.”

  “I know.”

  I smiled back and then stood, patting him on the head before leaving the kitchen to trek back down the hallway toward Sarah’s closed bedroom door. After I rapped on it, I said, “Sarah, honey, time to get up.”

  Sarah muttered something imperceptible, but I suspected I knew the gist, so I responded by saying, “I know you don’t have to go today, but we need to take Devon to school.”

  “I know.”

  Well, at least she was halfway awake. So I took a quick shower and then slipped on a robe and checked that Sarah was out of bed. Then I made my way to the kitchen to get my first cup of coffee. My daughter sat at the table, picking at the marshmallows in her bowl of cereal. Devon was gone now, so he was probably in his room getting dressed.

  Once more, I sat at the table, planning to have my coffee after talking with Sarah. “We’re going to get you some help, honey.”

  “Help with what?” Sarah actually looked up from the bowl at me through sky-blue eyes. Suddenly, I was overwhelmed with sadness that my little girl wasn’t so little anymore—but she wasn’t quite a woman, either. The nightgown hanging on her body was still that of a child, long and lacy, covered with tiny black and white sheep jumping fences. But she was already starting to change in the most subtle of ways and soon she’d start to show the curves that indicated her femininity—but right now she was in that in-between place.

  And that made me profoundly sad.

  “I really don’t know yet. But it’s evident to all of us that you’re having some problems…dealing with something. We’re going to get you some help.”

  “What kind of help?”

  “Someone to talk to.”

  “Like who?”

  “Someone trained to do this kind of thing.”

  “Who?”

  I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stay patient. “Honey, we talked about this yesterday. We’re going to find a psychiatrist or psychologist for you.”

  Sarah dropped the spoon she was holding into the bowl, causing little oat pieces and tiny marshmallows to bounce onto the table. “Do you think I’m crazy?”

  I scooted my chair closer to her and put a hand on her shoulder. I wanted to pull her into my arms but she was already resisting a simple touch from my hand. “No, I don’t think you’re crazy. I just think you need some help. You seemed fine with this yesterday. There’s nothing wrong with getting help.”

  “You think I’m crazy.”

  “I think you need help. You set a fire at your school yesterday.”

  Sarah stared at me for a few seconds, and I had no fucking idea what she was thinking. Then she shifted her gaze to the bowl of soggy cereal. When it was evident to me that my daughter didn’t intend to say another word, I took her in my arms, hoping that I could assure her that somehow everything was going to be okay…even though I myself wasn’t so certain.

  * * *

  When we returned home from taking Devon to school, Sarah went back to her room and lay on her bed. Part of me wanted to involve her in conversation, but I suspected it would be futile and could potentially make her clam up even more, especially after her earlier outburst.

  Instead, I needed to do the one thing I’d been putting off.

  I went in the backyard and lit a cigarette before swiping through the contacts on my cell phone.

  There he was. Kent Fisher. Sarah’s dad, one of the first guys to break my heart in a million pieces. I had his home
and work numbers as well, but I wanted to send him a text. If I tried his home phone, I was just as likely to talk to his wife or one of his other kids, and I wasn’t in the mood to have that awkward exchange. I drew cigarette smoke deep into my lungs before tapping out a message. This is Randi. We need to talk whenever you have a chance.

  Deep down, I hoped he wouldn’t respond until later—which was stupid, because I really needed to get the ball rolling—but it was almost immediate. Instead of texting back, he called.

  “What’s going on, Randi? Is Sarah okay?

  “It’s kind of a long story. Do you have time?”

  “Yeah.” I could hear a lot of noise in the background that stopped quickly, telling me he’d stepped in his office and closed the door. “What’s up?”

  Rather than pussyfoot around the subject, I laid it all on the line, telling him about yesterday in possibly excruciating detail—but I didn’t want to be accused of not keeping him apprised of what was happening with his daughter. Before he could ask me any questions, I followed it up by asking him one of my own. “Did she seem strange to you this summer?”

  “Yeah, actually. She was pretty subdued and quieter than usual. I just thought she was acting funny because, well, you know...”

  “Because she’s starting to change a little. That’s what I thought at first, too. But her behavior is worrisome. What was she doing over the summer that set off your alarm bells?”

  “It was just little things. I mean, she was quiet, but… Well, in years past, the two of us would go to the movies together about once a month or do something else, like fishing or roller skating. But usually it was the movies, something without Ann and the kids and, until now, she’d always seemed to enjoy it. But this last summer, every time I’d suggest that just the two of us do something, she’d insist that Jack and Amanda come along, too, saying it ‘wasn’t fair to them.’ And I could see her point, but it was strange. Even Ann found it weird.”

  “So is that it?”

  “No. There were lots of little things she did, like staying in her room a lot more all by herself, sleeping a lot later. But I still thought maybe it was just a puberty thing. It was kind of sad, I guess—she seemed to never want to do anything with me. Alone, that is.”