Tragic: Chapter 14

I shut off the belt sander and popped my safety glasses up on my head. Then I brushed away the dust on the board in front of me, testing its texture with a swipe of my fingers.

“Not quite.” This piece of white oak would be the top to an end table, so the finish needed to be as smooth as satin.

I flipped my glasses back down, but before I could start up the sander again, a voice rang through the shop.

“Knock, knock.” Piper was standing in the large bay door that I’d opened this afternoon to keep the shop from getting too hot.

“Hey.” I slid my glasses off and wiped my dusty hands on my pants. “Not working today?”

She shook her head and stepped inside. “Got a sec?”

“Sure. What’s up? Feeling any better?”

“Um . . . not really.” Her hand went to her stomach and her face got green. She lifted a finger. “Be right back.”

“Can I hel—”

She shook her head, then spun around and darted out of the shop.

I hurried after her, reaching the door just in time to see her hurl in a bush.

“What can I do?” I asked.

“Get me a water. And don’t come over here.” She retched again.

“Okay.” I went back inside and to my mini fridge. I took out a bottle of water and waited for her to come back.

I hadn’t seen Piper much since the day I’d helped move her into the new house. She’d been sick, so I’d given her some space. One thing I’d learned was that she did not like me to see her vomit. And if I was being honest with myself, I’d used her stomach bug as an excuse to avoid her.

It had been a strange day, getting her moved into that house. Mostly because it was the first time I’d met her friends. The Kendricks were nice people, but something about meeting them had been too intimate. Piper had introduced me as her neighbor, which was true. But I hadn’t missed the way Thea looked at us. She saw Piper and me as a couple.

Because we looked like a couple.

There was nothing casual about our relationship. We’d drifted from occasional hookups in an Airstream to me stopping by Piper’s house last night to make sure she was drinking enough water because I didn’t want her to get dehydrated.

The right thing to do would be to take a step back, talk to Piper about establishing some boundaries.

She didn’t need to cook for me every night. I didn’t need to be included in activities with her friends.

Especially when Thea and Logan had their kids along.

Seeing their baby daughter had brought on a slew of emotions I just wasn’t ready to deal with yet. Over the last couple of months, Piper had shifted my focus. Instead of dwelling on the past and reliving the pain each day, she’d consumed my thoughts. She’d made me feel and, in a way, forget.

Then Camila Kendrick had brought it all back. That little girl was gorgeous with her dark eyes and dark hair. My daughter would have been just as beautiful. She would have had that same mesmerizing laugh. Her chubby fists would have looked so perfect clinging to the collar of my shirt, like Camila’s had to Logan’s. I would have bought her tiny shoes and an adorable pink romper too.

Camila was painful to be around, so I’d escaped to my shop. Piper had noticed, but she hadn’t brought it up.

Should I tell Piper about my baby girl? If I were to confide in anyone, it would be Piper. She’d become the best friend I’d ever had.

She laughed a lot. She made me laugh a lot. And I trusted her.

“Sorry.” Piper shuffled into the shop, her face pale. She’d pulled a piece of gum from her mouth and was chewing it furiously.

“It’s okay.” I took her the water and escorted her to the replacement chair I’d made for my porch. It was finished, flawless this time around, and I only needed to stain it to match its companion. “Sit down and just take it easy.”

She sat and took a few deep breaths as she sipped her water. When she lifted her eyes to mine, the fear in them kicked my heart into overdrive. “I, uh . . . I’ve been trying to think of the best way to tell you this.”

“What?”

She blew out a long breath and dropped her gaze to her lap but didn’t speak.

My stomach plummeted in the silence. She must be here to talk about our relationship. Maybe she wanted more, or maybe she was going to end it. Either way, my defensive instincts roared to life.

If she wanted to end us, I was going to do it first. And if she wanted a commitment, I was shutting that down immediately.

I refused to put myself in a position where I could lose everything again. Where another person had the power to destroy me. Piper was approaching that line already and it was time to push her back.

“We should talk about us.”

Her chin lifted. “Huh?”

“Us. We should talk about us.” I took the glasses off my head and tossed them over to a table. “That’s what you’re here for, right? I mean, I’ve been thinking about it too. We’ve drifted too far from casual. It’s been fun, but maybe the best thing would be for us to spend some time apart. Get some distance.”

The bullshit spewed out of my mouth so fast I shocked myself.

Piper blinked a couple of times, her mouth slightly agape.

“I’d like to stay friends, if you’re good with it. But I don’t want to make you uncom—”

She held up a hand. “Please, stop talking.”

I shut up.

“Could you sit down?”

I grabbed the old office stool that I wheeled around the shop and sat next to her side.

“I didn’t come here to talk about our relationship.” She swallowed hard. “I need to tell you something.” Her chest rose as she inhaled, then caved as her breath came out in a whoosh. “I’m pregnant.”

My muscles went limp. Every single one of them, and I fell off my stool, my ass slamming onto the concrete floor.

“Kaine!” Piper shot out of her chair, rushing over to me. “Are you okay?”

I shook off the paralyzing shock and let Piper help me up onto unsteady legs, then onto the stool again. It took a few moments for my brain to come unscrambled. “You’re pregnant?”

She nodded. “I went to the doctor this morning.”

“I thought you couldn’t get pregnant.”

“Neither did I,” she whispered.

“It’s mine?”

She frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just ask me that question.”

I huffed. She was pregnant. With my baby. A rush of panic hit, chasing away the remaining shock. I shot off my stool, sending it flying sideways. “What the fuck, Piper!”

“Don’t you yell at me.”

I ran a hand over my beard, pacing back and forth. “How did this happen?”

“Adam lied to me about my fertility test results. I had some problems, but so did he. That was why we couldn’t get pregnant. Because of him. I didn’t know.”

“You didn’t know?” I scoffed. “You expect me to believe that?”

“It’s the truth.”

I stopped pacing and shot her a glare. “You said we were covered.”

“And I was wrong.”

Wrong? Wrong was so mild a word for this situation. This was my worst nightmare. This was everything I never wanted to feel again barreling down on me so fast I couldn’t breathe.

How could she have let this happen? How could I have let this happen? I should have taken more precautions. I should have insisted on condoms.

I should have never trusted Piper.

“Did you do this on purpose?” I asked. “Did you just use me because your husband couldn’t give you a kid?”

My words slapped her so hard, her entire body flinched. “You asshole. How could you even think that about me?”

“Can you blame me? It seems awfully convenient for you. You use me and get what you always wanted.”

“Fuck you.” Her face turned hard as stone. The spark in her eyes died, and she looked at me like I was nothing but the dust under her expensive shoes.

She could glare at me all she wanted because I didn’t give a fuck. I had a right to ask these questions. I had a right to know the extent of her betrayal.

Because after all, that’s what everyone did, didn’t they?

They betrayed me.

“I didn’t plot this.” Her voice was cold. “Do you think I want to have a baby with a man who I’ve known for only months? A man who I know nothing about? A man who is so determined to keep me out that he won’t even sleep in my bed after he fucks me? This is not the ideal situation, believe me. But it’s happening.”

It was happening.

It was happening all over again.

“I’m sorry for dropping this on you.” Piper squared her shoulders. “It was just as big a shock to me. But I won’t lie and say I don’t want this baby. I’m going to give you some time. We can talk later.”

Her footsteps grew distant as she made her way to the door. When they disappeared, I gave into the crushing pain and dropped to my knees.

I couldn’t go through this again.

I couldn’t.

So I shut it all out, like I’d taught myself to do years ago. I let the numbness soak into my bones. I let the darkness chase away the fear and pain. I let the light Piper had brought into my life be smothered by the black.

My knees were bruised by the time I shoved myself off the floor, then mindlessly walked home. I pushed open the door, but my feet wouldn’t go inside. The haven I’d built up here wasn’t safe anymore. It was tainted with memories of Piper.

I saw her sitting at my table, eating magic cake. I saw her in my living room, appraising my furniture with a quiet smile. I saw her in the kitchen, making me cinnamon rolls.

I pictured her, pregnant with our child, trapped in a crumpled car as life seeped out of her body in a crimson stream.

The need to flee hit me hard and I backed away from the door.

The same need had consumed me three years ago, after a funeral.

I’d left my entire life behind in the middle of the night, never looking back. I drove aimlessly until I got so tired, my drooping eyelids forced me to stop. I slept in my truck on the side of the highway, and the next morning when I woke up, I saw the sign welcoming me to Lark Cove.

It was as good a place as any to get lost.

For weeks, I ignored countless messages from Mom begging me to return home. I asked a buddy to take care of my house. Rent it. Sell it. Burn it down. I didn’t care. And I begged the landlord of my former shop to get out of my lease, then ship me my tools.

I used their pity as leverage. It made running away all too easy because they all agreed to help me without question.

I endured being a part of society for as long as it took to find and close on my house. Then I shut out the world for the worst few months of my life.

Eventually, the phone calls, texts and emails from Mom stopped. Friends forgot about me, or at least, they clued into the fact that I wasn’t coming back. People stopped trying to rescue me and just left me to my grief.

When it subsided to the point where I was able to breathe again, work became my first priority. I needed the familiar tasks, the distraction—the money. So I called some old clients, drummed up some business and got busy.

Work and solitude weren’t going to save me this time, but that didn’t stop me from getting in my truck and driving the hell away from Lark Cove.

I was lost in my own fears. I didn’t think about the road or where I was headed. I just drove and let the memories from the past keep my foot on the gas pedal.

No matter how many miles I drove, the voices in my head haunted me.

I’m pregnant.

One statement but two different voices. Shannon’s voice had been so soft. Piper’s had been strong and sure, even though she’d been nervous.

There was an accident.

I’d hardly recognized Mom’s voice as she’d called from the hospital.

We tried to save the baby, but we lost them both.

The doctor’s hoarse voice was burned into my brain. I heard it in my nightmares. Just like I heard the muffled sounds of a hospital floor as I sat behind a closed door with a lifeless baby in my arms.

I’d begged the doctor to let me hold her, just once. He’d hesitated at first because of how small and discolored she’d looked, but when I’d pleaded again, he’d ultimately relented.

She’d been so tiny and precious. Most of her face had been hidden in that pink blanket, but she’d been so peaceful as she’d rested against my chest. She would have been a beautiful child.

Oncoming headlights on the black highway caught my attention. I’d driven for so long that the sun was just disappearing behind the horizon. I shifted in my seat, switching hands on the steering wheel as the other car came my way.

Its low beams flashed as they crested a bump, and the flicker was enough to catch a streak as it bounded for the road.

A deer.

It ran full speed, barely crossing the centerline as the other car whizzed by. Its hooves and spindle legs staggered on the asphalt as it scrambled to get out of my lane. But I was going too fast and it wasn’t fast enough.

My truck crushed its innocent body.

“Goddamn it.” I pressed the brake, slowing down and veering off to the shoulder. I shoved the truck in park, unclipped my seatbelt and hustled outside. Behind me, the carcass was lying in the shallow ditch that ran along the highway.

I approached, knowing exactly what I’d find. Even in the twilight hour, I saw blood sprayed across the pavement. Raw guts and broken bones were not in their rightful place.

“Son of a bitch.” I cursed and walked back to inspect my truck, leaving the animal for the varmints.

There was a clump of hair wedged into a joint of the grill guard, but the thick steel bars had served their purpose. Deer were a major hazard on Montana roads, and it was better to hit one than swerve and risk crashing into another car or rolling your own.

That didn’t make it any easier to stomach.

I hung my head and climbed back in my truck, continuing down the road. Another life lost. The guilt of killing that animal gnawed at me as I drove. It took the place of the fear and pain I’d been reliving for hours.

Where was I? I didn’t have my phone—I didn’t have anything, not even my wallet. I was lucky that I’d run away with a full tank of gas. A green sign came into view and my headlights reflected the white letters.

Ahead was a junction. If I took a right, it would wind me around to Lark Cove. If I took a left, it would take me somewhere I’d avoided for too long.

Home.

I turned left.

I arrived in the dead of night, standing outside the house where I’d grown up. The porch light cast a soft glow my direction. The trees in the front yard, the ones I’d planted in high school as saplings, were nearly as tall as the power lines. The siding that had been white when I’d left was now gray. The front door was a dark red instead of denim blue.

But the placard above the door was the same as it had been for decades. It was the one I’d welded together my junior year in shop class, spelling Reynolds out of bolts and nails and screws.

I walked up the sidewalk, noticing new cracks. The grass was creeping over the edge where I used to come and keep a straight line. I went to the door, inspecting a yellow rose bush in bloom that hadn’t been there years ago.

I knocked on the door, nerves shaking my limbs. Did she hate me for leaving her? Did she hate me for how I’d abandoned our family? If she did, she had every right.

The sound of shuffling footsteps came from inside and I held my breath. The door opened and she stepped closer, her face tired and eyes hazy with sleep. She was wearing the same plush, green robe I’d bought her for Christmas five years ago.

“Kaine?” She gasped, a wrinkled hand covering her mouth. “Is that you?”

“Yeah, Mom. It’s me.”

She stepped closer. Then with a deafening crack, she slapped me across the face.

“I’m sorry for hitting you.”

I chuckled. “For the last time, it’s fine.”

“I used to feel so guilty whenever I’d have to give you a spanking.” Mom sighed. “You were such a good kid and most of the time you’d shape up if I threatened to get out my wooden spoon. But there were a few times you’d push me over the edge. You’ll see.”

I nodded at Mom in the passenger seat.

We’d spent the last two days talking. She knew all about Piper and the pregnancy. She knew that I was terrified of losing another child. She knew exactly what to tell me to put some of those fears to rest.

And to my surprise, she knew where I’d been these last three years. She’d just chosen to let me stay hidden until I was ready to be found.

Mom had hurt me. But I would rather have her in my life than hold on to that old pain. To have her back in my life, I was willing to move past the choices she’d made after Shannon and the baby had died.

“Thanks for coming with me.”

Her eyes softened. “I’m always here for you.”

I drove us through town, dreading every inch as we got closer to our destination.

I’d realized on my drive to Bozeman that I had to stop running. I was going to be a father. By accident or by choice, it was happening. And if I was going to be worthy of my child, I had to put old ghosts to rest.

Mom’s idea was for me to start at the source.

We pulled up to the gates of the cemetery, and I crept inside, parking along the loop that circled through the green grass.

Mom gave me a reassuring smile before opening her door. I swallowed down the urge to hurl and got out of the truck too.

It smelled the same, like cold stone and wet grass. The one and only time I’d been here had been for the funeral. But my feet remembered the way to Shannon’s family plot.

Mom and I sidestepped headstones and sculptures as we wound our way toward a grove of trees. Her parents had insisted on burying her here, in the place where they could visit. I’d agreed on one condition.

That I could pay for our daughter to be buried with her.

Except for the short minutes after she’d been taken from Shannon’s body to try and be saved at the hospital, our baby had only lived in her mother’s womb. I wanted her to have Shannon’s comfort in the grave too.

I didn’t want my daughter resting alone.

As we got closer to their place, I noticed a bundle of fresh-cut yellow roses by their tombstone.

They were the same yellow roses growing outside Mom’s front door.

“You come here?”

She nodded. “Every week.”

She visited them. She cared for them.

When I hadn’t been here, she’d tended to them instead.

A lump clogged my throat. “Thank you.”

Mom’s hand slipped into mine, and we stopped at the base of the grave. The marker only had Shannon’s name on the stone along with her dates of birth and death. But in the lower corner, I’d asked that they carve something for our child.

A tiny pair of angel wings.

Shannon had been eight months pregnant, but we still hadn’t picked out names. We had narrowed down the boys’ names but had struggled with options for a girl.

And since I hadn’t been able to put her name on the granite, I’d given her wings instead.

Tears dripped from my eyes and into my beard. I didn’t even bother wiping them away. I just stood there, holding Mom’s hand, and let go.

Like Piper had once told me on the ridge, sometimes you just needed to cry.

The tears lasted a while, but when they stopped, I closed my eyes and spoke to the ghost I’d tethered to me for years.

Good-bye, sweet angel.

A breeze blew past, lifting her up to fly free.

“Thanks, Mom.”

She squeezed my hand. “You’re welcome.”

I took one last look at the grave, smiled at Shannon’s name, then turned away and escorted Mom back to my truck. Maybe I’d visit again. Maybe this would be my farewell. I wasn’t sure. But one thing I did know was that I had work to do before I went back to Lark Cove.

Talking to Mom had helped me deal with my fears for Piper’s pregnancy. They were still there, they probably always would be. But Mom’s excitement about becoming a grandparent had broken through. She’d helped me see things from a different angle.

I was getting another chance. I hadn’t destroyed the first one. He had.

But if I didn’t pull my head out of my ass, I would ruin this one.

“Kaine,” Mom said as we left the cemetery’s gates. “I’m proud of you for going there today. I know it wasn’t easy. I hope it gives you some closure.”

“It did.”

“Good. We-we should talk about—”

“No,” I cut Mom off.

“But—”

“No.” My voice left no room for argument. “We won’t talk about him. Ever. If you want to be in my life, you won’t bring him up.”

Her shoulders fell, but she nodded. “Okay.”

Just the idea of him made my jaw clench. I didn’t want to be so forceful with Mom, but he was a no-go topic. If I was going to forgive Mom and get over what had happened three years ago, I had to block him out.

I’d made some peace with Mom. I refused to let him take that too.

“What are your plans? How long can you stay?” she asked, changing the subject.

I rubbed my beard with a hand, forcing the tension out of my jaw. Then I took a deep breath, releasing the anger and concentrating on what had to be done. “I need to deal with my old house. I have no idea what’s become of my stuff. I wouldn’t mind stopping by and saying thanks to my landlord at the old shop. And I’d like to fix your fence. Maybe get your car into the mechanic.”

“Oh, Kaine. Don’t worry about those things. I can manage.”

“I know,” I told her. “But I want to.”

It was time to make up for the years we’d lost. It was time to finish the things here I’d left undone.

Because when I went back to Lark Cove, I’d be staying for good.

I was done running.