Redeem Me (11 page)

Trey is a whopping six-one or six-two, with black hair and dark eyes. He’s quite handsome and surprisingly appealing. Unfortunately, I no longer have the will to explore. Lucky for him.

“Blake told me he had a present for me, but he was unusually secretive. Now I see why. This is my lucky day,” Trey says as he shamelessly appraises me.

I blush and try to think of something in response. Suddenly the deep plunging neckline is a little too revealing, even if the rest of the dress is long and boring.

“Where do you live, Trey?” I ask.

“I’m in the city. You?”

“I’m in the country,” I say. Salem County is definitely the country. “Julia lives in the city.”

“Really? You should come up and we can all get together.” Trey leans into me, letting Violet’s mother pass to his right. When she clears us, he’s still touching my side.

“I actually work for a company at Fifty-Sixth and Madison.”

“That’s crazy. I’m at Fifty-Eighth and Madison. Do you come to the city often?” he asks excitedly.

“Recently, I’ve been coming up about once a week, but I’m technically a virtual employee.”

“Nice!” he says, impressed with my setup.

Julia comes over and I introduce her to Trey just as Violet’s mom tells us to line up for our announcements.
Announcements?
For the first time I’m actually glad Violet is going to mandate our dresses for the wedding. At least I won’t screw it up. Trey and I dutifully line up and I actually appreciate him looping my arm around his and covering the top of my hand with his own. If he’s not completely full of shit, it seems as if he’s going to make sure we skate through this. Julia and Danny go first, and the crowd applauds their entrance as if they’re celebrities.

Trey squeezes my hand. “All you have to do is smile.”

“Right. Smile…no problem.” I flash my best smile as the lead singer of the eight-piece band announces us and we step into the spotlight. Trey is a pro and leads me gracefully past the crowd to our spot next to Julia. It’s very dark in the tent, providing a dramatic backdrop for the spotlight on the bridal party. Sydney and Carson come in and, finally, the happy couple. We take our spots on the dance floor for the first dance. Trey is a great dancer, and so far the perfect groomsman.

“Have you ever been to an engagement party of this magnitude?” I ask him.

“Has there ever been one of this magnitude? I’m going to ask Blake if we can have a joint bachelor/bachelorette party on an island somewhere,” Trey says, and spins me unexpectedly.

“Wouldn’t that ruin some of the fun?”

“Not at all. I’d love to go away with you,” he says with an air of total confidence.

I get the feeling that Trey usually gets whichever girl he fancies. I wonder if Blake has told him I’m a psychopath. Surely he has; Blake is half girl when it comes to communication.

The song ends and Trey leads me to our table, his hand on the small of my back. It feels all wrong. Jason would rip his arm off for touching me there, for touching me at all. It’s the first time I’ve thought of him all day. Although it would be difficult to navigate Trey with Jason here, I still miss him. Does he even know Violet’s getting married?

The food, the lights, and the music all begin to pull me in and I’m actually enjoying myself. After dinner I stop by Noble’s table. Sitting with him are three couples and three single girls I know from our sorority. I’m sure he’s in his glory. From what I can see, he’s having his usual impact on the girls.

Trey pulls me onto the dance floor for one more dance, but I’m not interested in tangoing with him. As soon as a fast song comes on, I make an excuse to get some air. The tent has French doors that lead onto the back patio, which has been decorated with portable trees ensconced in thousands of white lights. There are heaters every few feet and the side closest to the tent has become a smoking section.

I make my way through the cloud and move toward the back wall. Has this all been constructed for the party or is this a permanent wall? Did the workers put it up with the tent? I try to move it with my hands. Violet’s engagement party’s beginning to hamper my identification of reality. I lean on the wall and envision it toppling over, sending all 270 guests outside to see who ruined the elaborate props.

I inhale, the cool air finding my nostrils despite the heaters. It smells like snow. I tilt my head toward the sky, but the patio is so well lit I can barely make out a star. I miss the endless sky of Oklahoma.

“Are you hiding out here?” Noble’s voice is soft and mischievous from behind me.

“Apparently not very well,” I say without turning around.

Noble comes and leans on the wall next to me. He gazes up in the same direction I am.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asks, still quiet.

“I am.” I turn and study Noble’s enamoring profile. His jaw is square and strong and anchors his face, which would seem large except it’s sitting on top of his incredible shoulders. “How about you? Have you selected a ZTA yet?” Noble quiets as if he has a secret he’s about to divulge. “I wanted to tell you earlier that you—”

“Charlotte, there you are,” Trey interrupts as he walks up to Noble and me.

I turn toward him, forgetting I was about to tell Noble how handsome he looks tonight.

“Hi, Trey,” I say. “This is Nick Sinclair; he went to Rutgers with us.” I turn toward Noble, who has a smug grin on his face. “Noble, this is Trey. He’s Blake’s friend from high school.”

“I thought you said his name was Nick?” Trey warmly shakes Noble’s hand.

“It is Nick. Charlotte calls me Noble.” He doesn’t bother to explain further.

“Well, nice to meet you either way,” Trey says. “Charlotte, a few of us were about to take a walk on the side yard if you want to get some air.” Trey makes the sign for a joint.

“You know what…I’m good. Thanks for thinking of me, though.”

“No problem. I haven’t been able to stop thinking of you.” Trey admires me as if Noble isn’t with us. “Well…don’t take too long.” He walks away and yells over his shoulder to Noble, “Again, nice meeting you.”

I turn back to the wall and close my eyes as I take in the snow-heavy air. It’s peaceful out here.
Aah…peace.
I remember I wanted to compliment Noble and turn to tell him, but he’s watching me.

“What?” I ask.

“Why is it you have no problem wrapping Trey around your little finger, but you won’t let me in at all?” Noble’s face turns serious.

“Come on, Noble,” I say, trying to make light of it.

“No, I need to know,” Noble says, threatening our delicate peace. “Two weeks ago YOU kissed ME, and you’ve avoided me every day since. What the hell, Charlotte?”

Oh, Noble. Why tonight? Why now? It’s so nice out here.
As if in argument, I shiver unexpectedly.

“Come here,” Noble says as he opens his arms wide and beckons me into his jacket with him. I accept, hoping it will change the subject…and because he looks so good.

“You know, the reason you’re cold is because you’re missing the front piece of your dress,” he says, and I laugh as I put my arms around his back and rest my face on his solid chest. He surrenders and puts his arms around me, which automatically causes me to close my eyes. He smells of beer and soap, and I find myself tilting my head toward his neck as if some magnet is forcing me to nuzzle there.

“I’m still waiting for an answer, Charlotte. I don’t understand. Do I not appeal to you?”
Not with all this talking.

After a long sigh, I lean back and look Noble in the eye. “With Trey, or people like Trey, I’m instituting a ‘swim at your own risk’ approach. If someone finds my wretched self attractive”—I put both hands to my chest, forgetting it’s bare in the middle—“and they’ve been made aware of the dangers, it’s their responsibility to make their own decisions.” I pause and Noble’s even more annoyed than he was before I started the ocean reference. “You, though, my beautiful friend, are far too precious to swim without a lifeguard. I would never be reckless with you.”

Noble pulls me close and kisses me. I freeze for a brief moment and give in to the warmth spreading through me. I cross my wrists behind Noble’s neck and lean into him, enjoying his lips for the second time. It’s becoming less and less possible to deny him, especially if he’s going to look this good. Over the band, I hear tires squeal and I expect the crash sound effect to play, befitting the situation. Noble’s lips graze my neck and my ear. His breath steals my doubts and he whispers, “I’m a big boy, you know.”
Oh, I know.
“You can let your guard down.”

I return my head to Noble’s wonderful shoulder. This is crazy. I’m not starting a relationship with Noble Sinclair!

“Noble.”

“Yes?”

“I want to be your friend.”

“You are my friend.” The snowflakes come down in a mass flurry from the start, a thousand with the first one.

“No, I want to be your incredibly dear friend. I want to date someone I don’t like half as much as you.”

Noble pulls back so he can see my face and I try to remain as serious as possible.

“I am thankful to have you in my life. Never more so than the past few months. I need you in a hundred different ways, but I can’t keep sneaking kisses from you. It’s a waste of time for both of us.”

Snowflakes continue to fall on us and Noble continues to study me, probably trying to figure out why he’s out here in the first place. Then, just as surprisingly as before, he kisses me. And again, I kiss him back. He’s not throwing it out there or testing the waters. Noble claims me with his lips, denying every rationale I’ve clung to. I should be his forever.

I really do hate myself.

“You’re not listening,” I say, returning my face to its home right between his neck and shoulder.

“Perceptive,” he says, nodding.

“Sorry to interrupt you guys,” Julia says, sounding like someone just died. “Jason was just here.”

M
y stomach clenches and I bend over slightly, in pain.
Jason was just here.
I grab my stomach, hoping to thwart the vomit. Tears fill my eyes in preparation for an all-out emotional and physical breakdown. Noble’s arms around me are a cage I can’t escape. I have to get out of here.

“Jesus, Charlotte, are you okay?”

“This is why you should stay away,” I manage, before running into the house and up the stairs to Violet’s room. I thank God for the timing as I throw up at the exact moment I lean over her toilet. Julia is holding my hair back before I know she’s there.

When I finish, I rinse out my mouth with water and glare at myself in the mirror. Bloodshot eyes and a blotchy face streaked with black slithers of makeup running down remind me of the last two weeks in August. Julia watches me begin the repairs as she silently sits on the edge of the bathtub.

“Tell me,” I demand, my words barely audible. I see the pity on her face in the mirror and it doesn’t move me.

“Security found him watching through the side of the tent. He was sitting on the lawn smoking a cigarette when they approached him.” I keep working, unable to face her. “He said he wanted to see you, but they told him no one gets in without an invitation. They argued and Blake went out there. Jason demanded to know who was touching you. Blake wasn’t about to give Trey up. They argued and Jason was escorted out.”

“Does Violet know?” I ask, scared I’ve ruined her night.

“No.” Julia’s quiet for a moment. “Blake said Jason was drunk.”

“Good. Maybe he’ll die in a car accident,” I say flatly. “But it’s never the drunk who dies,” I add, disappointed.

Julia stares at me, horrified.
Oh, did I not introduce you to the new Charlotte? She’s sweet.

I take a deep breath and try to think of something to say that will make Julia stop looking at me that way. “I’ve become too secure at home. I’m sure he’s been in town, and he knows I’m there, but he hasn’t come to my house. It never occurred to me he would come up here. Damn Facebook,” I say, and start to cry again. “Do you think it’s okay if I just go to bed?”

“Definitely,” she says too quickly, probably relieved I’m not going back to the party. I’m sure the Charlotte she’s consorting with in the bathroom doesn’t belong at an engagement party. “I’ll tell Violet you aren’t feeling well.”

I change my clothes and climb onto the air mattress I’ve been camping on for the last few nights.

My phone dings with a text from Noble:

I NEED TO KNOW YOU’RE OK

I’m ok

BTW, I meant to tell you…

you looked really good tonight.

I don’t know why but this makes me cry. I turn off my phone and roll over, sobbing alone in the dark.

“Charlotte…Charlotte…”

Why is Julia waking me up? Why is she shaking my arm?

“What?” I say without opening my eyes.

“Your brother’s on my cell phone for you.”

“Sean?”

“Yes, Sean. Now wake up. I’m assuming it’s important since he never calls me,” Julia says as she pokes me with her phone.

“Hello?” I say.

“Hey, it’s your brother. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t home. Mrs. Heitter just called me. Someone broke into the house.”

I sit straight up in bed.

“Mom and Dad’s house?”
My house?

“Yes. I’m driving there now. I guess she could see the front door was broken when she drove by.”

“I’m on my way,” I say as I get up and search for my bag. I’ve been here so long my things are all over the place.

“Don’t rush home. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. I’ll handle things down here. Oh, and I need some of your friends’ phone numbers. I had to wake up Nick Sinclair to get Julia’s.”

“Did you tell Noble about the break-in?”

“Yes. Are you still keeping things from Sinclair?”

“No, no, not at all. I’ll be home in forty-five minutes.”

“All right.”

I pull out of Violet’s driveway and turn on my cell phone. As expected, it blows up with text and voice messages. All of them are from either Noble or Sean. I begin to listen to them, but they start with last night and I’m too selfish to think about how Noble felt when the mere proximity of Jason made me ill.

By the time I pull off the turnpike at Exit 2, I’m convinced it was Jason who was in the house. He must have been hoping I’d come back there or had assumed I would after I heard he’d been at the party.

Maybe I’m being stupid. Maybe it was just a burglar.

I pull into the driveway and Sean’s truck is behind Noble’s, both of which are blocked in by a state trooper’s cruiser. As I approach the house, I see the trooper is fingerprinting the front door. There are two windowpanes broken out of the door and the side jamb is ripped clear off the wall inside, the chain lock still attached to it. Sean and Noble are lost in a deep conversation.

“Hi,” I say for lack of knowing what to say.

“Charlotte.” Noble walks over and hugs me tightly. I can’t concentrate on Noble, though. The sight of the front door lures me. I leave Noble standing in the driveway and walk toward the house. The carnage left by the intruder is powerful, and angry, and reeks of Jason Leer. The trooper stops brushing the door and introduces himself as Trooper Hite.

“Would you mind taking a look around and letting me know if anything’s missing?” he asks.

“No, I don’t mind.” I inspect the door, easily envisioning Jason kicking it in.

It’s comforting to think it was Jason here. Why would he break in, though? I walk around the back of the house and look in the rear flower bed. The rocks are all overturned, including the turtle rock with no key taped to it. It must have been hellishly frustrating to be here and not be able to get in.

I walk back around to the front of the house and slide past Trooper Hite. The house is exactly the way I left it. The living room’s untouched. In fact, untouched since my mom died. I should update it. I move to the kitchen. I can’t be sure, but I think some things have been moved at the desk. I rummage through the “important drawer” and my checkbook, passport, birth certificate, and car title are all there. Something’s different, though.

I check the bathroom, laundry room, and family room. All are exactly the same as they were before the holiday. I touch the back of the recliner in the family room.
Did you sit here? You used to love to.
I can almost see him. I rub the back of the chair.

“Charlotte, are you all right?” Sean asks. He and Noble are both studying me.

“Yes, I’m fine.” I nod to try to reassure them. Oddly, I feel better than fine. I feel exhilarated.

I make my way to my bedroom with both of them in tow. There’s a piece of paper tacked to the wall where my headboard used to be. I realize now what was different in the kitchen. The tablet and pen I keep by the phone are missing. I walk over and untack the paper.
Nice bed
is written in handwriting that leaps off the page and chokes me. I turn it over quickly, hoping for more, but that’s all it says.

“What’s that?” Sean asks.

I fold the paper slowly, trying to seem nonchalant. “Just a note Jenn left when she was here,” I say.

“I never noticed it before,” Sean says, but lets it go. Noble, though, is still focused on me, not letting anything go. I open my jewelry box and it appears to be exactly how I left it. My emergency cash is still in my favorite purse in my closet.

“I don’t think anything’s missing,” I say, and look at the spot where the note was left. “I mean, I don’t think anything’s been taken.”

“It’s possible the perpetrator was spooked by a passing car,” the trooper offers. “I’m going to write this up, but there’s not much to go on. The door has too many prints; it’s impossible to determine a set specific to last night.”

I nod, trying to listen but still surveying the room.
I know you were in here.
I go back to the closet and let my hand touch each hanging garment.
Did you do this last night? Did you remember any of the clothes?

“Here’s my card.” Trooper Hite breaks my concentration.

I blush and hope no one notices. “Thanks.”

Sean walks him out and I’m left with Noble regarding me sorrowfully. He knows it was Jason. He realized the note wasn’t there the night before.

“It seems like a week ago we were on Violet’s back patio,” I say.

Noble’s silence, the voice of abandonment, replaces my energy with guilt.

“Here’s your key. I didn’t have tape to replace it.” Noble places the key in my hand and I just look at it. What would have happened if Noble had never come to the house, if the key had been under the turtle where it was supposed to be? Would Jason be lying in my bed right now? “Do you want to come to my house for a while?”

“No. I have some calls to make,” I say as Sean returns.

“Noble, do you know anything about replacing doorjambs and windowpanes?” Sean asks.

“I was actually going to see if Clint can do it,” I say as I walk to the kitchen to find his card.

“Clint East?” Sean asks.

“Yes, he has a construction business. If he can’t, I’ll have to employ you two,” I say, and look back at Noble.

“No problem. I’ve got some things to take care of. If you can’t get hold of Clint, or if he can’t do it, call me,” Noble says as he grabs his hat and keys.

Sean follows Noble out and I’m able to reach Clint. He promises to be over within the hour and thinks he can fix it. It’s 11:30 a.m. on Sunday morning. Butch will be at church. I reach in my pocket for the note Jason left me. All these messages, literally hundreds of them, begging for my forgiveness, and he writes
nice bed
. He must have been completely crocked. Now that I’m alone, I can properly search through everything. In the first few weeks after we broke up, I destroyed every scrap of evidence that Jason existed. I’m sure seeing my room minus all mementos of him was unpleasant.

Good.

Twelve straight days of wondering what Jason did while he was in here and what I would have done to him if I’d found him have depleted my confidence. I sit on the floor folding towels, lost in the mindless chore.
What are we doing?
What am I doing, and why can’t I just forgive him? I hang my head, and the familiar ache of missing him seeps into my bones.

My heart races before the idea of calling him is fully formed in my subconscious.

What would he say? What would I say?

What difference would it make?

I dial Margo’s number instead.

“What’s up, sista?” she answers.

“I’m dangerously close to making some unquestionably bad decisions.” Margo is silent. “I’m folding towels, and all I want to do is call Jason.”

“You know, you can call him.” Margo’s voice is gentle. She’s always gentle with me.

“I should have called Jenn,” I say.

“What happens if you forgive him?”

“Forgive him? I can barely hear his voice without vomiting. Let alone forgive him or trust him. In fact, I absolutely hate him…” My voice trails off and I begin to cry.

“Char, don’t cry.” This makes me cry harder. “Please don’t cry. I know this hurts worse than the bee sting from a soda can.” The reference to Jenn getting stung in fifth grade rescues me from the horror. “I don’t know how this works…It’s like cosmic energy or witchcraft.”

What…the hell…is she talking about?

“But time is going to go by, and you’re going to move on, and it’s all going to get better.” I take a deep breath to slow the tears. “Your life, your version of home and everyone in it, will begin a reconstruction phase, even though you’re not in on the plans. You just have to trust it because I know it seems impossible right now.”

“Right. It’s cosmic,” I say.

“It’s divine,” Margo says. I close my eyes and bow my head. “You’ll be better soon, I promise.”

I hang up with Margo as the back door opens. As soon as it unlatches, a dog comes barreling into the room. He jumps on me, spins around in the towels, and runs into the hallway. He’s in and out of every bedroom before Sean has a chance to say, “Hey, it’s your brother and some crazy-ass dog.”

The dog comes back to say hello again and jumps up on me, paws on my shoulders. He’s a beagle, at least for the most part, with large black spots covering his brown coat. His face is an adorable mix of brown, black, and white and his eyes are the sweetest things I’ve ever seen.

“Well hello there, little friend. What’s your name?” I say as I start scratching his chest. The dog lifts his head to the sky in delight.

“Do you want a dog?” Sean asks, and I am in shock. “I was having breakfast with Johnny Half this morning and he said the dog just showed up at his back door. He’d heard someone hunting earlier. The Biegen twins stopped by and said he’s their dog, but he’s scared of gunshots. He runs off every time they shoot. Said he’s useless to them.”

“Useless, huh?” I say to the dog, and start to massage behind his ears. He leans into me with affection. “A hunting dog that hates guns. I can imagine you’re not very popular.” I give him a kiss on the head. “Especially when out looking for rabbits.”

“He’s been housed outside, so he’s going to need some training.”

“Are you poorly behaved?” I ask, now speaking in some crazy baby dog talk, and the dog tilts his head from one side to the other, listening. I look up at Sean, who’s smiling at me and my new best friend. “He can stay.” The dog jumps up on me again for a big hug. He’s obviously intelligent.

“What shall we call you?” I ask my new little dog with the kindest eyes I’ve ever seen. “Would you like to meet Butch?”

The dog wags his tail, excited to do anything but hunt I suppose. I dig through a drawer full of tape, ribbons, and bows and find a red-and-green-plaid ribbon to adorn his collar. “We definitely have to pick out a name for you.” I tie the ribbon in a bow and take a picture of him. I text it to Margo and Jenn with the caption “My love.”

I can barely keep the dog on the leash as I unlock the multiple dead bolts on Butch’s doors. He’s pulling, trying to get loose to chase all the smells around the farm. Seriously, what is so freaking valuable in here? By the time I get the last lock opened, the dog’s weakened my arm and pulls the leash out of my hand, barreling past me into the house.