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In This Life Page 11
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Page 11
“Take your time,” I said and Travis fixed his gaze on me.
He was obviously weighing the idea of telling me to get the hell out of his place. I wouldn’t have been upset if he did.
But he just offered a cold grin and said, “Good to see you Nash.” His tone implied the opposite.
“What an asshole,” I said when he was gone.
Kevin chuckled. “He is a piece of work.”
“Can’t believe Sheen sold the bar to that guy.”
“Yeah.” Kevin made a face. “Listen, sorry I dragged you out here. I forgot that old feuds can still be raw.”
Kevin wasn’t trying to be profound. He was just talking about the fact that Travis and I still despised each other. But I was thinking of my dad. We’d never gotten along. We were unpleasant mysteries to one other and after my mother’s death that sentiment only festered.
With Travis out of the way, Kevin and I were able to have a pleasant conversation. He knew a lot about what I’d been up to since leaving Hawk Valley and I could only guess he’d come by that information from my father. I found myself wondering what my dad would think if he saw me here in his old stomping grounds, having a beer with his buddy and discreetly checking my watch because I wanted to be on my way to pick up my baby brother.
When nine o’clock approached I stood up and dropped some cash on the table.
“You got to get going?” Kevin asked.
“Afraid so. Colin’s an early riser.”
He held out his hand. “Hey, thanks for hanging out for a little while.”
“Thanks for asking me.”
He grinned. Back when he helped coach football and I was a linebacker with a shitty attitude, Kevin Reston had seemed old and about as interesting as an unpainted wall. I was wrong. Kevin was really a great guy. I was glad he and Jane had found one another.
As I left the table it looked like Kevin was going to stick around for a little while and nurse the beer in his hand.
“Chief,” someone bellowed over by the dartboard. “Why don’t you come over here and show us how it’s done?”
Kevin picked up his beer and headed over. “On my way.”
Before exiting I took a detour to the men’s room. I’d barely touched my beer but my bladder was full from the bottle of water I’d swallowed before heading down here.
I was washing my hands off in the sink when I thought I heard a shout. I turned the water off and listened. There, unmistakable beneath the bar music and the brash voices of its customers, was the sound of a man’s voice shouting in anger. It was coming from the other side of the wall and I could pick out a few words.
“Fucking told you (mumble) fucking pay (mumble).”
The responding voice was smaller, higher pitched. A female. “Sorry. I thought I ordered more.”
“It was your damn job!”
“I’m sorry!”
“Bitch.”
There was the sound of a thump followed by a sharp cry and I’d heard enough. I barreled out of the bathroom and through the nearest door, where I found the waitress from earlier sobbing into her hands while a red-faced Travis Hanson loomed over her with his neck veins bulging.
And even though I knew it was Travis, for a blurred second of blind rage I didn’t see him. I saw the man I always saw in my waking nightmares, the man who wasn’t satisfied just to rid the world of his own life so he had to take more. I saw my mother’s husband.
I didn’t think. I lunged. Travis’s face had time to register a look of surprise before I grabbed him by the throat and shoved him into a nearby wall hard enough to crack the surface.
“The fuck,” he sputtered and the girl screamed.
I was ready to do more, to pound him fucking bloody but suddenly there were arms around my waist, yanking me backwards while voices exclaimed in the background.
“Nash, cut it out!” Kevin yelled and that made me stop trying to rip free.
Travis, meanwhile, had recovered from his collision with the wall and was about to charge. The waitress bravely put herself in the middle, casting horrified glances my way and then back at Travis.
“Please stop,” she said and she wasn’t just talking to her boyfriend. She was addressing both of us.
Kevin hadn’t let go of me yet. “You calm the fuck down.”
I was bigger, stronger, and could have easily shaken him off but I didn’t. I nodded and Kevin released his grip.
“What’s this about?” Kevin asked in a commanding voice, a voice that was used to getting his questions answered.
I looked behind me and saw a few curious faces peering in the doorway. Kevin noticed them too and waved them away.
Travis glared. “My employee screwed up. I got a little loud about it, that’s all. And then this bozo comes charging in here like he’s on a fucking roid rage and starts smashing up the place.”
“You’re still a lying sack of shit, Hanson,” I spat.
“Enough!” Kevin turned to the girl and his voice became kinder. “What really happened, Alyssa?”
Alyssa touched her reddening cheek, most likely the place where Travis had smacked her. She avoided my eye and glanced at Travis. “I forgot to place an order for the whiskey,” she said. She swallowed. “Travis was right to be pissed and sometimes he yells.”
“Is that all?” Kevin prodded.
“Yeah.”
“He hit you,” I said.
She shook her head but still wouldn’t look at me directly. “No.”
“The only one acting like a psycho around here is you,” Travis growled. “Now get the fuck out before I decide to be unforgiving and press charges.”
Alyssa’s eyes met mine and then quickly shifted. She might be frightened. Or she might have a bad habit of making excuses for a guy who’d fooled her into thinking he cared. Either way I couldn’t be angry with her for lying.
Kevin snapped his fingers and exited the room. “Let’s go, Nash.” His tone indicated there was no room for argument.
Travis smirked. Alyssa looked at the floor.
I was about to give up and follow Kevin out when I changed my mind and approached Alyssa.
“This is what he does,” I told her in a quiet voice. “His type doesn’t stop.”
“Get the fuck out now!” Travis shouted.
I might have been happy to take him on again if Kevin hadn’t returned and bodily shoved me out the door, down a dark hallway and out a back door that led to an alley behind Sheen’s.
“All right,” I grumbled, breaking free of his grip.
“What the fuck was that, Nash? Revisiting old rivalries?”
I faced him. “He hit that girl.”
“That’s not what she said.”
“But it’s true.”
“Did you see it happen?”
“No,” I admitted, “but it sure sounded like he belted her pretty hard.”
Kevin exhaled noisily. “So this is still what you do? Swing first, think later?”
“I couldn’t do nothing, Kevin.”
“No, you never can.”
I started to walk away in the direction of the street where I’d parked.
“Nash!”
I kept walking. “I’ve got to go pick up Colin.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea right now.”
I spun around. “Are you fucking kidding? You make excuses for Travis the Prick but you’ve decided I’m dangerous?”
Kevin held up a hand. “I think you should go home and cool off.”
“I’m cool.”
He looked down. “Your fists are clenched.”
I did look down. So fucking what if they were clenched? I relaxed them.
Kevin sighed. “Nash, it’s late and you’re not in a good frame of mind. Why don’t you just leave the baby with my mom tonight and start over tomorrow?”
I paused. Colin had to be asleep already. Maybe it was in his best interest to let him be for the night instead of jarring him out of a sound sleep.
“Fin
e,” I said, rather stonily.
“Good.” Kevin nodded. “I’ll text my mom and let her know.”
“Thanks.”
Kevin regarded me silently in the darkness. A sports car sped down Garner Avenue and some teenager whooped loudly out the window.
“What the hell got into you back there anyway?” he wanted to know. “I thought you’d fucking grown up a little.”
I had no answer for that. The words wouldn’t have stung so much if they’d come from a man I respected less. I left him standing there, found my truck and left the small world of downtown Hawk Valley behind. I got all the way home before realizing I was too keyed up to enter an empty house and stare at my balls all night. Instead of cutting the engine I pulled away from the curb.
The duplex where Kathleen lived wasn’t very far. I cut the headlights when I was still a few houses away and set the truck in park. There was a light on in Kathleen’s front room. The clock was closing in on ten p.m., not a polite time to knock on anyone’s door, let alone one where a little kid lived. But I remembered Kathleen saying she was a night owl so I pulled out my phone and was about to shoot her a text when I saw movement behind the kitchen curtain.
I pocketed the phone and jumped out of the truck, approaching the door and getting a sense of déjà vu. The one and only time I’d been to Kathleen’s place was the night I arrived in Hawk Valley, when I was still numbed by a new and terrible loss.
I rapped on the door softly in case her kid was sleeping. The second I did it I realized showing up this time of night might be taken the wrong way. I hadn’t come here for some drunken late night booty call. I just wanted someone to talk to.
But suddenly the door opened there was Kathleen staring at me in surprise.
No, I didn’t just want to talk to someone. I wanted to talk to her.
“Nash.” She looked at my empty hands. “Is everything okay? Where’s Colin?”
“He’s fine,” I said. “He’s with Nancy.”
Kathleen moved back a step. “Come in.” She was wearing a soft grey shirt that she probably slept in and came halfway to her knees. I wondered if she was wearing anything underneath. From the way her soft curves were outlined beneath the fabric I kind of doubted it.
“Sorry to show up so late,” I said, taking a look around at the small but comfortable surroundings. “I like your place.”
She shut the door. “You’ve been here before.”
“I know.”
Kat looked around and made a face. “I’ll be moving soon. The landlord just informed me that he intends to sell the property at the end of the summer.”
I stuffed my hands in my pockets. “That’s too bad.”
“Nash,” she said, “what’s wrong?”
There were so many things wrong. And I shouldn’t be dumping them all over the person who might be the best friend I had right now.
I stood in the middle of the room and stared at a small square painting of an empty winding mountain road. It was Jane’s style and sure enough there was her distinctive signature in the corner.
“I hope I didn’t wake up Emma,” I said.
“You didn’t,” Kathleen confirmed and sat on the couch with her legs tucked under her. “I’m sorry I didn’t make it down to the store reopening today.” She rubbed her eyes. “Everything was crazy. I had a big project due, three client appointments and I had to pick Emma up early from preschool because she had a stomach ache.”
“Is she okay?”
“She’s fine. I ran her over to the pediatrician just to make sure.” Kathleen studied me, probably because I was still standing awkwardly in the middle of her living room at ten p.m. “Sit down.”
I planted myself on the edge of the couch. It was tempting to lay my head down on Kathleen’s lap. She waited for me to say something. Somewhere in the apartment a clocked ticked the seconds away.
“I hit someone,” I said.
Her eyes widened. “Who?”
“Travis Hanson.”
She grimaced, as if the sound of the name hurt her ears. “Why?”
“It doesn’t matter. He deserved it but that’s not the point. I handled it badly. I’ve been handling things badly for a long time.” I paused and thought about what I wanted to say. “I never told anyone this, but there were signs, Kat. Things I should have picked up on.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean sometimes she’d drive me to school and I’d notice bruises on her arms. Or she’d be late picking me up from somewhere and her eyes would be red from crying. She’d always tell me it was nothing. She made up stories about watching a sad movie or getting banged up on some exercise equipment at the gym. I should have done something. But I did nothing.”
“Oh.” Kathleen touched my shoulder. “You’re talking about your mother.”
I blew out a breath and allowed the memories to come flooding back. “She started seeing Paul only a few months before they got married. I remembered thinking there was something off about the guy but I didn’t put the pieces together, didn’t think anyone would listen anyway. I was a cranky teenager with a shitty attitude so of course I disliked my mother’s new husband. I was so used to being the center of all her attention. It was always just the two of us. Sure I spent summers and vacations with my dad but we had never been close.”
Kathleen didn’t say anything. She just kept her hand where it was on my shoulder, a kind gesture to remind me she was here, that she cared.
“Chris Ryan was not a man who saw much value in sitting around and talking about feelings but in the beginning, after it happened, he tried to get me to open up. He said the anger could eat me alive if I let it. He was right. I never allowed anyone to get too close. You remember what I was like, how often I used to fight in high school. I’m still fighting, Kat. I never stopped.”
I looked up to find her staring at me with worried eyes that swept down to my hands. I knew what she was thinking of. The night I came to town my knuckles were still bruised and raw from dispensing my own brand of vigilante justice. But I wasn’t ready to tell her about that. I’d already told her more than I should have.
I stood up, feeling the sudden need to get the hell out of here, away from Kathleen’s scrutiny before she saw more than I wanted her to see. She tugged on my arm, urging me back down to the couch. I relented, reclaiming my seat and then did the thing I wanted to do the most, the thing I didn’t do with anyone. I rested my head against her soft body and allowed her to comfort me.
“I thought you’d fucking grown up a little.”
I couldn’t stop hearing Kevin’s words. He was right and I needed to do better. I had a little boy to raise and protect. It was time to acknowledge that in some ways I hadn’t grown up. In some ways I was still that fourteen-year-old kid wracked with guilt and grief because in my mind I’d failed. I’d failed to defend the person who meant the world to me. I couldn’t live with that kind of failure again.
Before I found Nash at the front door my paranoia had gotten the better of me. I felt jumpy, ill at ease, plagued by the consistent thought that I was being watched, though the curtains were closed and the only sound in the apartment was the ticking of an old mantle clock.
Emma had been crying when I picked her up early from preschool. Like any mother, my child’s tears were like a knife straight into my heart. But today there was something about the way she was crumpling up her little face that left me feeling more anxious than usual. She looked too much like her father when she cried.
I took her to the doctor although there was no medical mystery. One of the children had brought in donuts as a birthday treat and Emma had eaten more than her fair share. She wound up vomiting all over the crayon table but she was already feeling better by the time we got home. I gave her some ginger ale and plain toast and we watched episodes of her favorite cartoons.
Hours later, after she was asleep, the uneasy feeling wouldn’t leave me and I knew it had nothing to do with Emma’s stomach incident. This afternoon I�
��d nearly deleted an email to my business account from an address I didn’t recognize. I thought it was spam but then opened it on a whim.
Kat,
It’s been a long time. And I need to talk to you.
Harrison
Dread can surge through the bloodstream in an instant. My stomach dropped and my heart began pounding. I stared at the email and then deleted it. The writer had no claim on me and he knew it. We were finished even before I did something that would sound unforgiveable if I told the story. There were only two other people in the world that knew and one of them was dead. The other hated me. The feeling was mutual.
But it wasn’t just the shadow of worry gnawing at me as I roamed the quiet rooms of my apartment.
There was also a ghost. Years ago he’d befriended and consoled and assured me that I deserved better than a guy who cheated and treated me like dirt. He did all that even though he was crumbling under the weight of his own demons.
As she grew, Emma looked more and more like her father. Sometimes when I saw my daughter’s face it was like he was begging to be acknowledged. I had never acknowledged him or even spoken his name since the day of his funeral. I’d been telling the same lie ever since returning to Hawk Valley. My mother didn’t know. I hadn’t even told Heather.
I was aware that most lies possess a shelf life. I was aware that someday Emma would ask about her father. And then I wouldn’t be able to lie any longer.
I’d been pacing around the living room, lost in my own jumbled thoughts, when the soft knock startled me. With some wariness I looked out the peephole and then breathed a sigh of relief when I recognized the person on the other side. He was the one adult I wouldn’t mind dealing with right now.
There was something wrong with him tonight. I saw it right away and was thankful it didn’t have anything to do with Colin. But I was unprepared for the things he said, for the way he allowed me to collect him in my arms and hold him.
Nash Ryan wasn’t a man who shared his feelings eagerly. The story he told me about his mother was heartbreaking. To carry that burden of inescapable guilt for so long had wrecked him on some level, had led him to pursue an isolated life where he was still fighting battles that only existed in his head. Nash had revealed to me the most vulnerable side of himself and I didn’t know why, but I still had the sense he was holding back.