I should leave. I should turn around and march back out that door. I came here to say what I needed to say. The guilt has abated. But instead, I stand here like an idiot.
Say no. “Okay.”
A grin overtakes his face and those dang dimples knock the breath from my lungs.
I follow him outside and down the driveway into his shiny, blacked-out Ford F250. We drive in silence. He seems calm like this whole situation isn’t absolutely insane. We turn into familiar territory and I realize he’s taken us to the lake. He bypasses the lot, driving us right onto the sand, backing up so the bed of his truck faces the water. I’ve never been to the lake in the middle of the night. Why did he bring me here?
He turns off the engine and hops out. I suppose I should follow him, but I’m twisted around in my seat, looking back and admiring the water. Marveling at the stillness of its inky black surface—wishing I could take some of its serenity for myself. I jump in my seat when the passenger door opens. Chase is standing there, a boyish grin on his face as he holds out his hand. “Not much point of being here if we don’t get out and enjoy the view.”
I peer down at his outstretched palm. The memory of what I imagined those hands doing makes heat coil low in my gut. Probably shouldn’t touch him. I maneuver around him and slide off the seat onto the ground, taking in my surroundings. It’s deserted. I guess midnight on a Monday isn’t a peak time for lake goers.
Chase moves and I expect him to start walking toward the water, but instead, he goes around to the back of his truck. He drops the tailgate and hoists himself up, turning to look down at me with his hands on his hips. “Come on, Alina May. Let’s stay awhile.”
I walk around the side and peer into the bed, watching as he spreads out a large, thick green blanket. Does he just keep that back here? “Do this a lot, do you?”
“You know the motto. Always be prepared.” He smirks.
I can’t help the laugh that escapes. “Now I know you’re full of it. You were a lot of things growin’ up, but a Boy Scout? That, you’ve never been.”
“Yeah, well there were a lot of things I should have been. Guess I was just a little late in learning the lessons.” He comes to the edge of the truck bed, reaching down to help me up.
This time, I do take his hand.
We settle in, lying on the afghan as we stare at the sky. It’s clear tonight. Peaceful. The stars shine down, tormenting me with their sparkle. The space between us is charged like it always is when we’re around each other.
His voice pierces the silence. “Do you want to talk about it?… Your dad.”
Yes. “Not really.”
He nods. “I figured as much. Sometimes talking fucking sucks.”
“You can say that again.”
“You know, I used to come out here all the time. Usually after leaving you in the middle of the night.” He glances my way. “I’d lay down just like we are now and think about all the ways I wasn’t good enough. All the ways I had failed the people in my life.” His voice is heavy. “All the ways I was scared of failing you.”
I close my eyes, willing the burn away. “I thought you said talkin’ sucks.”
“I did. And it does. But I’ve learned it also helps.”
“You talkin’?” The corner of my mouth lifts. “I don’t believe it.”
He chuckles. “Is that really so surprising?”
“Uhh… yeah. It is, actually.”
He hums, his hands linking over his stomach. “Yeah, I guess it would be.”
“He wasn’t always this bad, you know?” I blurt.
Chase’s head turns toward me, his hazel eyes piercing. “Your dad?”
I nod, sucking my teeth. “Yeah. At first, it was just a way for him to cope. Losin’ Mama was hard on him, you know? He hasn’t been able to learn how to live without her. By the time I realized it was out of control, he was already gone. Lost at the bottom of a bottle.”
Chase doesn’t say anything, and I’m grateful for it. I don’t need someone telling me how to feel or trying to justify Daddy’s actions. But it’s cathartic, speaking my truths out loud.
“Stupid me, huh?” I huff out a laugh. “I just thought…” I shake my head, not able to speak around the lump in my throat.
“You thought you’d be enough?” he whispers.
“Yeah.” My voice cracks, a tear slipping down the side of my face. “I thought I’d be enough.”
He reaches over, hesitating before he links our hands. Warmth spreads through me, comforting all of my broken pieces. And at least for tonight, that’s enough.
29
Chase
Today, I woke up feeling hopeful. It’s not an emotion I’m used to having, but it’s there, so I’m holding on tight. If someone had told me a few months back I’d have Goldi in my life again, I would have laughed in disbelief, and tried to ignore the throb in my chest hearing her name caused. But now I’m here, and so is she. And while I don’t have any grandiose ideas about where our relationship can go, I can’t help but feel like maybe there’s a reason beyond Sam’s retirement that I’m back.
I’m a little surprised Sam hasn’t told me about Mr. Carson’s drinking. It makes me wonder if he knows—if anyone around here really knows, or if Goldi has been carrying the weight of her father’s problems all on her own.
This is what was on my mind when I went to sleep. This is what’s still on my mind as I walk into work. It’s our first official day back on the Tiny Dancers project. Demo day. I love demo days. And I’m fucking giddy knowing I’ll see Goldi again. Life is brighter with her in it. Colors
