Shades of Blue (25 page)

So how in the world was Brad Cutler standing thirty yards away?

She felt herself start to shake and she wasn’t sure whether to turn around and run or keep walking. She half hoped he was nothing more than a product of her overactive imagination, and that maybe if she blinked hard enough he would disappear. But another part of her wanted to run to him before he did. Slowly, almost robotically, she kept walking.

He took another step toward her, and he shaded his eyes. She was close enough now that she could see his expression, his eyes, and how not once did they ever leave hers. No matter how many years had passed, she could read his look. Without saying a word he was telling her the same thing her eyes had to be telling him. That seeing each other now was proof they had not forgotten — not each other or the time they’d shared, or what it felt like to be in a moment like this.

She set her things down near her car and continued toward him, until she was just a few feet away. For a long time she didn’t say anything. It was enough just to convince herself this was really happening, that Brad Cutler was really standing in front of her, his eyes as blue as ever, his look still enough to take her breath. Emma had no idea why he was here, but she could do nothing to stop the attraction she still felt for him.

Brad took another step closer. “Hi.”

“Hey.”

He didn’t blink. “It’s been … awhile.

A breathless laugh came from her. “Yeah.” She looked away, but only for a few seconds. “You could say that.”

There was an awkward few seconds, where Emma thought maybe Brad was going to hug her, but he stayed his ground. “I drove over from my parents’ house. Flew in yesterday.”

A terrible thought hit her. “Your parents …?”

“They’re fine. It’s not that.”

She felt a puzzled look come over her. “So …?”

He let out a frustrated breath and turned away, searching the area almost as if he were looking for answers. Finally he turned back at her, and the sadness in his eyes was so rich and deep, it colored his expression. “I need to talk to you, Emma.”

Her knees shook and again she felt the warring impulses — to run the other way or to run into his arms. He wasn’t making sense. He’d flown in without calling, without warning, so that he could talk to her? “I … don’t understand.”

“It could take awhile.” He raked his fingers through his still-blond hair. “Have dinner with me tonight?”

Emma had no plans, but in some ways she wanted to tell him no. She was busy now and she’d be busy the rest of her life where he was concerned. He couldn’t break her heart and leave it for dead, then walk back into her life without warning. Whatever his reason. But this close, her senses were consumed by him. It was all she could do to hold her ground. She angled her head, looking past his eyes and straight to his heart. “Why?”

“I told you.” His tone was thick with compassion. “I need to talk.”

She hesitated, but her decision was already made. How could she tell him no? “I have to go home and feed my dog.”

An intrigue passed over his expression, as if he wanted more information about her dog and her life and who she was now. But the moment passed and he crossed his arms, his legs anchored shoulder width. “Meet me?” A plea filled his voice. “Paradise Café on the beach? Five o’clock?”

That gave Emma an hour. She was curious now, wondering what was so important he would fly to North Carolina and drive here to ask her to dinner. Or maybe she’d passed out leaving her classroom and this was some strange, delusional dream. She blinked, but Brad was still standing there. “Okay. Five o’clock.”

The awkwardness was there again. “Emma …” Brad uncrossed his arms, and once more it seemed like maybe he was going to hug her.

But before he could move a step closer, she backed away and held up her hand in a brief wave. “See ya.” Then she turned and walked to her car. She opened the back door, set her things inside, and climbed behind the wheel. His eyes were still on her … she could feel them. But she wouldn’t look as she started her engine and drove off. She needed time to sort through her frantic emotions, time to collect herself before she did something she never expected to do again in her life.

Have dinner with Brad Cutler.

Nineteen

B
RAD FOUND A QUIET OUTDOOR PATIO
table at Paradise Café a half hour before Emma was due to meet him there. The patio would be full in a few hours, once people had time to go home and change clothes for dinner. This was one of the only restaurants right on Holden Beach, and it was popular with the locals. At least it was that long-ago summer.

But for now it was empty. A slight sifting of sand blew across the cement patio, the white metal tables and chairs worn and wobbly. The carved wooden sign in the back window of the café read, “No shirt, no shoes, no problem.” The mantra of the beach crowd. A salty breeze drifted up from the water where it competed with the tinny PA system. Alan Jackson was singing about it being five o’clock somewhere.

Not yet
, Brad told himself.
Soon, but not yet.
Five o’clock. When Emma would be here.

He sat with his back to the restaurant, his face to the beach. He needed this time because seeing her again had taken his breath, made him dizzy and angry with himself and full of guilt and regret. He could barely think straight until he climbed back into his rented Jeep and drove toward the shore. Even then all he could do was picture her, the way she looked now.

Emma Landon.

Brad leaned back in his chair and gripped the metal arms. He had memorized that first minute, the way she looked walking out of the building, and how he had known — absolutely known — it was her as soon as she rounded the corner. She wore cropped pink pants, a white shirt, and white sandals. Her dark hair was pulled back, the way she’d often worn it when they were dating. From a distance she didn’t look any different than she had back in high school, and for a few seconds he was eighteen again, and she was meeting him at his car.

But as soon as she stopped he knew she was on to him. Their eyes held while she stared, almost demanding to know why he was there, what in the world had brought him. Then gradually she walked toward him. As she drew near he could make out her eyes more clearly. Her beautiful hazel eyes. Something was different about them, a greater depth. Or maybe she’d always had that faraway look, the look that warned a guy he could get past a lot of layers without ever coming anywhere near the vicinity of her heart.

Neither of them said much, because clearly the shock was there for both of them. Brad could barely think for the questions assaulting him. What they’d shared was rare and special, so what had happened? How could he have taken a treasure like Emma Landon and treated her like trash? Why had he walked away without ever telling her he was sorry?

And how come she was still so beautiful?

He wanted to rush ahead with his apology, but the timing was wrong. Her eyes were guarded, and she hadn’t come closer than a few feet from him. No happy hug or lighthearted smile. The moment was as sad and lifeless as the one they’d shared the last time they were together — in the cemetery after her mother died.

Brad squinted at the water. A flock of seagulls hovered over the water diving at what must’ve been a school of fish. Their cries mixed with the pounding surf and the hum of traffic on the highway above the stretch of sand — the familiar sounds of Holden Beach. He lifted his eyes to the blue above the horizon.
Why, God … why am I here? Maybe I should’ve sent her a letter and called it good.

Son, remember, anyone who knows the good he ought to do, and doesn’t do it, sins.

How does that make sense?
Brad shaded his eyes with one hand and rubbed his temples. The answer wasn’t really an answer. It was the Bible verse that sat on his desk, the one that had convinced him to come. But was his being here really a good choice? Laura was back home worried that he was having cold feet about the wedding, or worse — that he didn’t love her. But he did love her. He missed her terribly and wished he could have a quick dinner with Emma and be on the next flight home.

But none of this was going to be fast or easy. So was that really good for anyone? If he was going to pick at the wounds of the past, would that only make the scars worse?
God, I want to leave.Forget I ever saw her. I need to be with Laura, not here on the beach a world away.

Be still and know that I am God, my son. You can do all things through my strength.

Brad leaned forward and planted his elbows on the hot surface of the round, wrought iron table. Was that really God’s voice answering him? Or was a part of him merely looking for one last weekend with Emma Landon before he promised his life to Laura? He thought about that and found no truth in it. None whatsoever. This wasn’t about seeing Emma. It was about making things right with her. If there was one thing he’d learned from seeing her earlier, it was this — she was still hurting. Like his friend had told him, she seemed quiet and distant — nothing like the happy, carefree girl she’d been before that one summer.

He stared as far out across the ocean as he could.
How do I know, God, that I’m supposed to be here? Help me be part of the solution for Emma … for both of us, please, God.

Leave your gift at the altar, Son …

What?
Brad fought his frustration. The answer that whispered across his soul wasn’t clear, if it really was an answer. Leave his gift at the altar? But how did that apply to his decision to come to North Carolina? He would have to look up the words later in the back of his Bible. He’d brought it, but it was at his parents’ house.

He checked his cell phone. Four fifty-five. He angled his chair so he could see the restaurant door, the one that led to the patio. What must she be thinking? It was the last day of school, so she probably had a lot on her mind already. Then she comes out to the parking lot to find him? Was she hurt by him for showing up unannounced? Had she agreed to come to dinner so she could tell him off, once and for all?

A pit formed in his stomach. Whatever happened at dinner, the conversation wouldn’t be easy or marked with laughter. The pain of going back was about to begin. That’s why he was sitting out here as close to the sand as possible. He wore sunglasses, but when the conversation started, he planned to remove them and look at Emma with honest eyes. He only had one chance to tell Emma Landon how he felt.

When that happened, the sunglasses would have to go.

E
MMA PULLED INTO THE CAFÉ PARKING
lot and checked her look in the mirror. She could hear her heartbeat, and she wondered if she was crazy. She could’ve easily told Brad she wasn’t interested. He could go home to his parents’ house and enjoy a holiday weekend with them. After so many years of Brad’s silence, Emma had nothing left to say.

But being near him reminded her of every time she’d missed him over the years. The way she still missed him. And like everything else, seeing him reminded her of their baby. She thought about how long she’d carried the hurt of what had happened between them.

Nine years. Every day. Every single day.

Her life had moved on, and she tried her best to live in the moment. But their baby remained in the shadows, a constant presence, there in Emma’s mind the way the date or day of the week was there. She didn’t go through the hours reminding herself constantly that this was Friday. It simply was Friday. And that fact stayed subtly with her, coloring the background of everything else about the day.

It was like that with their baby.

Emma slipped her sunglasses on and blinked back tears. This wasn’t the time to cry. That would come later. For now she needed to face Brad and see why he was here. Did he feel the same way she did? Was he mourning a loss they could never resolve, never make peace with? Or was he only curious about her life, and what time had changed along the way? She wore the same thing she’d worn to school that day, but her dark hair was down now, long loose layers that hung around her face and shoulders. She wore a hint of perfume and she’d retouched the light makeup around her eyes.

She was partly angry at herself for making even a little effort to look nice, for wanting to be pretty again for Brad Cutler. But if she was having dinner with him, she wanted him to struggle with the reasons why he left her. Another possibility existed. What if he had come looking to rekindle things? Then her efforts were important because they would tell him what she wasn’t ready to admit to herself. That she would take him back again. She would always take him back.

His rented Jeep was parked a few spots away from hers, so he was already inside. She steadied herself and headed for the front door.

“Looking for someone, miss?” A tall beached-out teenager with a pierced brow grinned at her. “Because if you’re alone I’ll sit you in my section.”

Emma gave him a polite smile. “I’m meeting someone.”

“Try out back.” He winked at her. “If he doesn’t show up, I’m here.”

“Thanks.” Emma was vaguely used to guys hitting on her. She wasn’t looking, so their advances meant nothing. She stopped at the back door and saw him, sitting alone at a table shaded by a weathered, oversized umbrella. Otherwise the patio was empty. She sucked in a quick breath and pushed her way through the door. He turned at the sound and she hesitated.

He was on his feet immediately — something he hadn’t done as a teenager. He stepped out from beneath the umbrella and pulled out the chair across from him, so they’d be facing each other, the beach on one side, the back of the restaurant on the other. She sat down and he eased the chair in beneath her.

“Thanks for coming.” He sat down and situated himself. The umbrella seemed to block out the feel of the restaurant, creating a sense that they were out on the beach, sharing a moment meant for just the two of them. “I’m sorry it was so last-minute.”

A waiter descended on them almost immediately. They ordered sweet tea and chicken Caesar salads. The conversation stayed light at first. Brad talked about the products he’d been working on in Manhattan, and his dad’s new fascination with the metal detector. The drinks came, and Emma mostly listened. When the salads were delivered, Brad told the waiter they were fine. They needed some time alone. He gave a happy shrug as he left. Brad waited a few seconds, then he turned to her, his words full and deep. “I … wasn’t sure you’d show.”