She flicked her eyes at the ceiling, biting her lip. “Let me guess. You’ve conveniently forgotten everything you said to me when we broke up.”
“I remember some of it,” he shot back.
“You said you didn’t want a family. You said you didn’t want to stay in town. But more than that, you didn’t want to be tied down. Especially not to someone from Benton Ridge. I offered to go long-distance while I was at college, so you could have your freedom, but that wasn’t good enough. You said I’d always drag you back to this place, and you didn’t want that burden. You said our time together in high school was a fling. That it was puppy love.”
“Aw, Avery—” He searched his memory, but he couldn’t come up with words like that. He’d said some things about town and being tied down, yes—he remembered that. But the rest? Putting her down? He wouldn’t have. “I just can’t believe it. There had to be more too it. Are you sure you’re remembering it right?”
She let out a high, painful laugh. “I’m not the one claiming to have amnesia! You know what? Get out. Go. I’m done.”
“No, we’ve got to talk about this. This is important, Avery. There’s Shanna to think about now. I’m not going to give up on her, or you, because we had a fight ten years ago—”
“Get. Out.” Avery’s eyes bored into his. Tucker didn’t see an ounce of mercy there, or forgiveness. He only saw a deep, endless anger. “I don’t want to have to say it again, Tucker. Get your stuff, and get out of my house.”
“What about Shanna?” Fear gripped him, cold and unrelenting, like the winter storm had settled back in around them. “Can we at least discuss plans about Shanna?” He had only just discovered her. He had only just started to make up for lost time. An impossible task, yes, but he was going to try. He had to try.
Avery came toward him, arms out, ushering him toward the door. “My lawyer will contact your lawyer.” She reached around him, opened the door, and shoved him out of it, into the fresh breeze and the cool air and all the emptiness of a world without Avery and Shanna. “Goodbye, Tucker.”
13
Tucker left.
What choice did he have?
Everything in his body wanted to stay in that clinic and fight it out with Avery, but he couldn’t. She didn’t want him there, and everything was upside down. His stomach churned. The cold bit into his jacket as he walked out to his truck. Avery had parked next to him, their two vehicles snugged up next to each other. There was just enough room for him to walk between them. He spotted a piece of paper on the snow and picked it up, tucking it into his pocket without looking at it.
He took one deep, long breath after another while he drove the short distance back to his cabin on the Wells property. Tucker was trying to stop the anger, or at least force it down, but it burned high and hot. Fine. She could be mad at him, but she shouldn’t do it at her own expense. He wanted to help her. He wanted to help Shanna. She couldn’t blame him for that. And yes, maybe he should’ve gone about it in a slightly different way, but the bigger picture was that she had an X-ray machine.
Tucker steered down the road to his cabin, feeling like a thunderstorm crammed into the cab of a truck. The clouds dissipated when he saw Shanna and Joey playing outside, bundled up in thick coats and hats. What were they doing? Joey threw her arms up over her head and jutted one hip out. Taking pictures. They were taking pictures. He pulled into the drive. Shanna’s eyes went wide, and she bit guiltily at her lip. What was there to feel guilty about?
He hopped out of the truck, the fresh air clearing his head.
“What are you up to, girls?”
They exchanged a look, and Shanna stood tall. “Well, we found this on one of the shelves.”
She held out one of his old cameras.
Tucker took it in his hands and the memory of it flooded back into him as if he’d never put it down. This was one of his first cameras. An old Nikon. He’d gotten it in high school for cheap, since it used film. Shanna must’ve been taking pretend pictures, because it had been out of film for years. The last time he’d used it—wow. The last time he’d used it, he’d been taking pictures of Avery on the football field out behind the high school. She’d posed for him, laughing, a month before they graduated. It had been so warm, the sun heating the back of his neck and his entire soul lighting up just from being close to her.
“You found a good camera, but you don’t have any film.” He frowned. “I bet I can do you one better.”
Both girls whooped, and Tucker turned back to his truck. His camera bag lived on the back seat, and he dug through it for only a few moments before he found what he was looking for. It was a small digital camera, just the right size for Shanna to hold.
The three of them spent the next hour outside, ignoring the cold as Tucker gave Shanna lessons on how to take the photos. He ran her through the basics of composition and light and was pleased when she picked up the techniques faster than he could have hoped. Both girls posed for him, and then he handed Shanna the camera. They ran toward the fence behind Tucker’s place, and Joey jumped up on one of the rungs. They were set.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
He turned to find his brother Cade standing on the porch of the cabin, offering
