Incidental Happenstance (51 page)

            “Really,” Dylan mused, having a hard time picturing her as an outdoor kind of girl. “I find that hard to believe, actually.”

            “Well, I guess there’s still a lot you don’t know about me, Mr. Miller,” she smiled slyly. “I’m just full of surprises.”

            “I guess you are,” he smiled, “but this isn’t one of your Hollywood campgrounds, you know—it’s going to be awfully rustic on this trip—no amenities at all.”

            “That’s the way I like it best,” she said, dreading the soud of his words. God, she hoped she didn’t have to shit in the woods—that would really put her acting skills to the test. “Besides, it’ll be good for me to see these scenes—it’ll help me be in the right frame of mind when you return to me and we rediscover our love for each other. Stan thought it was a good idea,” she added.

            Dylan had been looking forward to a few days without her hanging around, but part of him couldn’t help but be amused by the thought of her camping out. It could actually be quite entertaining. “OK then,” he said, “I guess we’re all going camping!” A few more people climbed into the van, greeting Dylan and looking at Penelope with amused faces.

            “What?” she said, laughing. “I love camping!”

            Dylan shared a knowing look with one of the crew members, and the caravan of vehicles began its journey.

            It bothered Penelope a lot that Dylan hadn’t yet shown any sign of returning her affection. He was always kind and considerate toward her, but he was pretty much that way with everyone. It was already November, and she’d hoped that by now he would have broken up with Tia on his own and made his way into her bed. Although she made sure to grab the seat next to his on the van, he laughed and joked with Bruce, his character’s kidnapper, and the camera crew, and barely paid her any attention at all. When she lightly rested her hand on his knee, he gently but firmly removed it and went back to his conversation without so much as a glance in her direction. She had hoped that the plans that were already in motion wouldn’t be necessary—there were a lot of facets and more margin for error than she was comfortable with.

            Angela should be taking care of one of the major components right now, she thought, looking at her watch as the desolate wilderness slid by outside her window. She’d be driving out to meet her at the site later in the day, provided she could get everything done. Between worrying about that and dreading the isolation of the next couple days, it was all Penelope could do to maintain her enthusiastic attitude.

            The trick for Angela was getting the right shot. It had to have Penelope and Dylan involved in some sort of intimate embrace, and since Penelope wasn’t actually in any of the scenes, she didn’t have a lot of contact with him. The two girls shared a small tent, and they went through the pictures she’d taken that day without finding anything tabloid-worthy. The next day, however, they filmed a scene where Dylan, after having escaped from his kidnappers, struggled his way across a river, crawling out exhausted on the other side. Penelope watched the scene unfold from a lounge chair in her tiny bikini, distracting the hell out of some of the camera guys but getting no reaction from Dylan whatsoever. She couldn’t take her eyes off him as he played out the scenario.

            God, he was incredibly sexy emerging from the water at the end of the scene, shirtless with a grizzled beard and his long hair plastered in soft waves around his face. His jeans clung to him deliciously, and he glistened in the afternoon sun, little rivulets of water making their way slowly down his muscled chest to disappear beneath his waistband. The water was freezing, Dylan said, but the air was unusually warm for late spring, and once the director called the final cut of the day, the crew decided to take a swim. Penelope eagerly joined them, while Angela decided instead to take a walk and “look for some wildlife.” As planned, Penelope watched for the signal tht she was in place—a little glint of a mirror reflecting the sun, and then she howled in pain, neck deep in the frigid water.

            “What’s wrong?” Dylan asked, making his way over to her while she choked on water and gasped for air.

            “Ow!” she cried. “I stepped on something—I think I sprained my ankle!” She hopped on one foot, and then howled again. “Oh shit—the other one!”  Her face slid under the water, and she pulled the string on her bikini top, pushing it to the bottom and placing a rock on top of it to keep it there.

            Dylan was there in a moment, pulling her up. “Hey!” he yelled once her head broke the surface. “Are you OK?”

            “I don’t know,” she rasped, coughing. “I don’t think I can walk. I think it might be broken!”

            Dylan grumbled, but he put his arm under her legs and swung her up, carrying her toward the shore. Penelope rested her head against his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her bare breasts against him. “Ow, ow, ow,” she moaned. “I’m sorry— my foot got jammed between some rocks and…ow!”

            “Yeah, and you somehow managed to lose your top, too, I see,” Dylan said suspiciously. “It’s going to be fine, don’t worry,” he added, calling for someone to get a towel to cover her. As he made his way out of the water with Penelope in his arms, Angela began taking shot after shot from behind a clump of bushes a good distance away. No one noticed her as they ran to help Penelope into a chair to tend to her ‘injury.’ Supposedly hearing the commotion, Angela ran over to see about her boss, and although they could see no visible signs of swelling, it was determined that Angela should take Penelope back to The Village to be examined more thoroughly. That suited Penelope just fine—one night in a tent was more than enough for her, plus she could see to some final details before Dylan returned. They pulled off the road once they got out of sight and checked out the photos Angela had taken, smiling in agreement. Steve, Angela’s new best friend and computer geek extraordinaire, could definitely do something with these shots, they were sure of it.

            The email came on a Wednesday morning, Tia’s longest day of the week. She had no breaks from the kids, no specials, barely any time to use the freaking bathroom. She checked her mail every morning, a habit she’d gotten into since she and Dylan were in two completely different time zones. She sat at her kitchen table with her coffee and smiled when she saw his name in her inbox, but then stared at the screen while her coffee went cold, unable to believe what she was reading. 

           
Tia, This is incredibly hard for me to say. The last thing I ever wanted to do was to hurt you. Believe me, it was never my intention. I know you’ve been through hell, and I never wanted to be the cause of any more pain for you. You’ll always have a special place in my heart, and the time we spent together will always be full of good memories for me. But I’ve realized, now that we’re apart, that things could never work out between us. We’re too different; our lives are too different. I never thought I’d say this, but it’s time for us to move on. I’m with Penelope now, and even though I never dreamed it was possible, she understands me like no one else ever could. She lives the same life I do, and knows the demons I face. I wish you nothing but the best in the future, and I’m sorry that I can’t be a part of it with you. But we both have to face the reality of our situation, and admit that in the long run, we would have hurt each other even more if we tried to force something that could just never be. I am so sorry, and will never forget you. I think it’s best that we make a clean break—I’ve changed my number and email so we can both move on more easily. You are a great person, and I know you’ll find someone who will make you happy—happier than I could ever make you. I wish you all the best, Dylan.

            “Oh my God!” she breathed. “Dylan, no!” she whispered to her empty kitchen as tears burned in her eyes. “I don’t get it!” she said aloud. “Why?” She couldn’t take her eyes off the screen, reading the words over and over and trying to make sense of them as her tears spilled down her cheeks. But no matter how many times she read them, they didn’t make a damn bit of sense. She’d just talked to him a week ago, and everything was fine—he’d told her he loved her and that Jessa was working on her tickets to go see him. Now she’d never see him again? How could everything have changed since then? How could he say that she would be happier with someone else? And maybe worst of all, how could he possibly be with that horrible conniving woman? How could Penelope have won him over? A million thoughts ran through her head, each more horrible than the last, and she was completely overwhelmed by her emotions.

            She felt sick suddenly, and ran into the bathroom to throw up. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror; puffy red eyes, blotchy cheeks, mascara streaked down her face. God, she had to pull herself together and go to work—how in the world was she going to get through the day? 

            She fixed her face the best she could and sat back at the table. This couldn’t be—it just couldn’t. She picked up her phone and dialed his number, her heart breaking when she heard the recorded voice telling her that the number had been changed. She fell into a kitchen chair and immediately responded to the email.

           
Dylan, I don’t understand! The last time we talked, we were discussing our plans for the holidays and you said you couldn’t wait to see me and that you loved me, and suddenly we’re through? Just like that? Please, just call me so we can talk. I need you to explain what’s going on, how you went from loving me to dumping me with an email, for God’s sake! I love you so much! We knew there would be challenges in our relationship with your job, but I thought we had it worked out—you know I’d do anything for you, just please call me. Please! Tia 

            She barely kept it together and as the day progressed, and she knew she’d be a wreck tomorrow. She put together sub plans for Thursday and Friday and planned to take the days off sick. Everyone noticed her red eyes and constant sniffles as she fought back tears throughout the day, so no one questioned that she wasn’t feeling well. She had to get a hold of Dylan and fix this—there was no way she’d just accept that they were suddenly finished. When she got home and there was no reply to her email, she curled up on the couch in fetal position and called Lexi to come over.

            “Oh God, he broke up with you in a fucking
email
?” Lexi shouted, reading it for the second time. “I can’t believe it!”

            “I can’t either. Damn it, Lex, how am I supposed to deal with this? We were in love, Lexi—IN LOVE! And he pulls this ‘Dear John’ shit on me? He’s done with me? Just like that? I just can’t even process it!” The tears spilled down her cheeks freely, and Lexi pulled her into an embrace.

            “You can’t let it go like this,” she said. “You just can’t. There was something really good between the two of you, and that conniving bitch got her teeth into him? I gave him a lot more credit than to fall for someone like her. She’s a snake! He’s smarter than that!”

            “What else can I do?” she sobbed. “Of course I tried to call him to get an explanation, but it’s true, his number’s disconnected. And if he changed his email too, I have no way to even get in touch with him—no way at all. He didn’t answer my email today—I don’t even know if he got it.”

            “There has to be something,” she pondered. “You can still write to him.”

            “It takes something like two weeks for a letter to get there and another two for a reply. It’ll be Christmas before I could even hope for an answer, if he even reads it! What do I even say in the letter, Hey, got your email, don’t agree, what the hell is going on?”

            “That about sums it up,” she said, shaking her head. “I just can’t believe that he’d write you off so easily! You guys were tight—it wasn’t just some summer romance. Anyone could see it.”

            “Apparently not Dylan,” she cried, the tears coming again. “Oh Lex, what am I going to do?”

            “You’re going to write to him right now and demand some answers!” she commanded. “And you are not going to give up on life again. You just got it back, for chrissakes!”

            “I know,” she whispered, defeated. “Listen Lex, thanks for coming, but I really need some time to get my head around this.” She threw up her hands and gasped. “Oh God, I should have known! In the back of my mind this was always my biggest fear! He’s always been out of my league! I thought he was different; hoped he could be, but it was always a fantasy for me you know—it was too good to be true.”

            “It was not a fantasy! I saw the two of you together! I saw the way he looked at you, the way you were together.” She slapped the table with her hand. “I just don’t get it!” she yelled. “That doesn’t sound like him at all! I just can’t imagine him doing this! Not to anyone, but especially not to you!”

            “Well, he did,” Tia said sadly. “So much for getting my life back on track.”  Tia eyes snapped open as the realization hit home. “Oh God, they’ll be all over the tabloids. It’s just what Penelope wanted. I’ll have to see them together every time I go to the grocery store—I don’t know how I’m going to do that!” She buried her face into Lexi’s shoulders and let the emotions come. Her darkest fears had come true, and the life she was happily planning for herself had come to a bitter and abrupt end. “I need to go to bed, Lex. I need some tea and a quick escape from tis whole thing.”