Taking Heart (6 page)

“It’s really freaking hard. And I just found out today that he smoked
pot. Which is probably nothing to you, but for someone like Ben, it’s a big
deal.”

“Nothing to someone like me?” he said, feeling the sting of her
implication. “Are you trying to say something?”

“I didn’t mean to imply that you’re some sort of druggie,” she said,
picking at a blade of grass. “But since you’ve used cocaine... you know what I
mean.”

He sighed. “I’m not a drug addict.” An owl hooted in the distance,
echoing, or maybe opposing, his words.

“I didn’t say you were,” she said gently.

“Sometimes I wish I were a better person, you know,” he said, feeling an
odd sense of reckless liberty in the dark, ready to lay his chest open again
for scrutiny. “Because I feel a real connection to you.”

“Eric, I’m not in any shape for a relationship right now. I’m a complete
emotional mess,” she said softly. “But I do think that you’re a good person.”
She found his hand on the blanket and squeezed, and though she hadn’t said it,
he knew from the warmth of her fingers that she was finally acknowledging their
tentative little friendship.

“Come hiking with me tomorrow,” Eric said as they stopped in front of her
room.

“I can’t. I’m not done with the apartment yet.” She turned the key in the
lock and opened the door. “Well, goodnight.”

“How about if I help you? It’ll go faster and we can still get some
hiking in.”

She paused, weighing his words. “I was serious about not being ready for
a relationship.”

“Relax, that’s not what I’m after,” he said, which was not altogether the
truth. Still, maybe if he said it enough, it might become true. “I just enjoy
your company. And besides, I think you’re just a good influence on me.”

She bit her lip as she considered his offer. “Okay, but if I even start
to look emotional, you’d better leave the room and let me have a moment.”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that. Nervous around crying people,
remember?” he said with a grin. “Besides, I think having me around will keep
you from getting out of control—out of pure embarrassment at the very
least.”

“You make a compelling argument,” she said, beginning to close the door.
“Okay, meet me at the lobby at eight.”

“How about nine?”

“Eight thirty.”

“You drive a hard bargain, lady,” he said as he headed off down the hall.
“Goodnight.”

chapter
four

Ren had to admit it: having Eric around at the apartment was beneficial
and not nearly as awkward as she'd feared. He was able to provide an objective
eye and would often give his opinion on which objects Ren should keep and which
she needed to toss. Without Eric’s help, she might have just turned away and
donated everything, but he reminded her that some things are worth keeping.

“You should really hold on to that,” he said as Ren’s hand was poised to
drop a watch into the donate box.

Ren gave it a second look—a Fossil brand watch with a wide leather
band—and finally recognized it as the gift from Ben's grandmother. After
years of buying her grandson cringe-worthy gifts (like a pair of too-tight
boxer shorts made of Playboy bunny material), Granny Kate had finally enlisted
Ren’s help and, that year, had given Ben a gift he could actually use. The
memory filled Ren with bittersweet warmth; the older woman had always made Ren
feel like a natural part of the family.

Ren sighed, sitting on the floor as she stared at the watch. “You’re
right.”

Just as Ren was about to descend into another bout of grief, Eric said,
“Besides, I bet that’s worth some money. Ten bucks, at least.”

Ren snorted, the dark cloud above her head lifting, and looked up at Eric
in gratitude. “Thanks. You’re nothing if not pragmatic.” She placed the watch
inside a box for Ben’s parents. “I think his cousin could probably use it.”

Then came time to face Ben’s small walk-in closet that was, if memory
served her right, incredibly messy and full. Who knew what she’d find inside
that bottomless pit of memories?

“What’s wrong?” Eric asked as Ren faced the white closet door quietly,
her spine as stiff as her lips. He stood beside her,
then
slipped his hand into hers. “Maybe this will be a good time for me to grab us a
super early lunch?” he asked, squeezing her hand.

Ren nodded. “That might be a good idea.”

After hearing the front door click shut behind Eric, Ren slowly opened
the closet and immediately felt the onslaught of Ben’s presence. She had been
keeping her grief tightly suppressed all morning and it was as if opening that
closet door suddenly caused an avalanche. Her eyes watered instantly, but she
battled through and stepped inside. This was the last place she had to clear
out, so the sooner she could get it done, the sooner she could end the
torturous trips down memory lane.

She began with the clothes on the floor, throwing each item into the
donate pile, no longer caring if they were clean or not. Those on hangers were
next, and she hurriedly looked through those for any expensive or special
items, saving only a leather jacket before taking big handfuls of the clothes
and dumping them in the donate pile. His parents hadn’t wanted any of his
clothing, had just asked that Ren put aside a few things that she deemed too
sentimental to trash.

After some time, she got into a groove as she emptied the closet section
by section, the part of her brain that processed emotions shut down for the
time being. With a soft grunt, she bent down to retrieve a balled-up pair of
khaki pants in the far corner. When she shook it out, something went flying out
the closet door, a black blur that made her heart skip a beat.

As she stared out the door with eyes as wide as plates, a pair of tan
hiking boots came into view.

“This flew out of the closet…” Eric stopped talking when he saw Ren’s
expression. He looked down at the little black velvet box in his hand. “Oh.
Crap.”

Eric took Ren out to the balcony for some fresh air.

“Hey. Say something,” he said from somewhere far away, but Ren could not
focus on anything other than the open box and the ring that was nestled inside.
She turned it in her hand, allowing the sunlight to catch the facets of the
princess cut diamond and dot the balcony walls with glitter.

“Ren?” She felt a hand on her arm, and for a moment, she stared down at
the long fingers, pretending they were someone else’s. She shut her eyes,
wishing with all of her might for the power to turn back time, and maybe then
it would be Ben’s hand that was touching her right now.

With trembling lips, she pulled the ring out of the pad and slipped it on
her finger; a perfect fit. A sob rose in her throat, but she cut it off by
swallowing. The ring was beautiful, just the kind she would have wanted to
receive from her long-time boyfriend.

“Ren, you’re just torturing yourself,” Eric said.

“I would have said yes,” she whispered, her voice hoarse from the effort
of trying not to cry. “How do you think he would have asked me? I think he
would have done something simple but romantic, maybe taken me camping and
proposed under the stars.”

She looked up at the man beside her and, through the haze, finally saw
the look of pity on his face. It proved more effective than a slap on the
cheek. She pulled off the ring and placed it back inside the box, shutting the
lid with a definitive snap. “I’m done, I think,” she said, wiping at the corner
of her eyes. “I just… I wasn’t prepared to find that. Pot I can deal with. But
an engagement ring…”

Eric nudged her with his shoulder. “Nobody said you had to be over him in
seven weeks.”

“Well, good,” she said, placing the box on the wood floor where they sat.
“Because I’m finding out that it's not possible.”

“I guess I’d better stop hitting on you, then,” he said with a cheeky
grin, causing her mouth to do something that felt so unnatural under the
circumstances. “Aha! Finally, a smile! A small one, but it's an improvement.”

“Thank you for trying to cheer me up. You’ve officially been downgraded
from douchebag to slimeball.”

“That doesn’t sound like much of a downgrade, but I’ll take it.” He
looked out onto the breathtaking view of the mountains, the main reason why its
former occupant had chosen to live there. “I’m really sorry about all of this.
It’s strange, but it’s hard for me to see you going through this.”

“That’s really sweet,” she said, her eyes cast down at the ground between
her feet.

“No, it’s weird is what it is. I’ve never, I mean, I’m not the kind of
person who even thinks that way.”

“I believe it’s called empathy.”

“I thought it was heartburn,” he said with a tiny smile. “In any event,
my brain is just not hard-wired for it. So you, my friend, should feel
special.”

“Oh, don’t I ever,” she said, glancing at the black box again. “Are you
always so straightforward?”

He gave a short, startled laugh. “No,
never
. I
always thought being that mysterious, secretive guy made me sexy.”

“It probably did. Because you are the furthest thing from sexy right
now,” she said with a grin.

“I… I don’t have a retort for that.” He stood up, dusted his pants, and
held out a hand. “Should we call it a day?”

Ren accepted it and was pulled
upward,
the
velvet box grasped firmly in her other hand. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
she asked as she slid open the glass door and stepped in from the balcony.

 
“To tell you the truth, I
don't know.”

She considered him for a moment with knitted brows. “I keep forgetting
that we just met a few days ago.”

“Feels like years.”

She wasn't ready to delve into that confusing subject, so they left
everything untouched and headed to Eric's car. It was several quiet minutes
later, as they were pulling into the hotel parking
lot, that
she realized the ring box, which held inside the perfectly preserved promise of
what could have been, was still clutched tightly in her hands.

Ren was definitely still in love with her dead boyfriend, that much was
clear. Eric knew he had no chance with her, which is why he felt like a
masochist whenever he was struck with that weird emotion that was neither lust
nor love but the terminal in between. Yes, he, Eric Sorenson, infamous amongst
the ladies for never getting emotionally involved, has actually found himself
harboring romantic feelings for a woman.
For someone who was
mourning someone else, no less.

But he didn’t care.

“I don’t have hiking boots,” Ren said as they met back in the lobby. She
kicked out one leg, wiggling the running shoes she’d worn on the plane. “These
should work for hiking Byer’s Peak though.”

He nodded, glancing down at her left hand for any signs of a diamond. “I'm
told the ground’s not wet, so it should be alright,” he said, breathing a small
sigh of relief that the ring was nowhere in sight. He’d seen the way she had
held the box in her hand as they were driving back to the hotel, like she was
drowning and the ring was a life preserver.

“What will you do with it?” he had asked, bringing her attention to the
fact that her knuckles had turned white.

She looked at her hand, pretending she hadn’t even noticed it, and
nonchalantly placed the box inside her purse. “Probably give it back to his
parents.”

But he had known then, just as he knew now, that she would most likely
hold onto it for a long time because she wasn’t quite ready to let go. And as
long as that ring remained, she never would be.

The drive to the trailhead was somewhat strained, very different from the
comfortable silences they had come to share. He sensed a change in Ren, as if
the appearance of that ring had caused a switch to flip in her head and now she
was completely in the dark once more.

The first mile or so of the Byer’s Peak Trail was along an old logging
road and was framed by pine trees. Eric took deep breaths of the clean mountain
air, feeling a rush of gratitude for being alive and healthy.