When We Collide (31 page)

Thoughts of the child charged through my spirit as I
immersed myself in the devotion she had for our son. I kissed her,
my touch a promise. “Maggie, I already do.”

For hours, I held her as we talked through the night
like we’d done so many times before. The small house became our
refuge, the four walls rising up in protection as we whispered
stories of the last six years into its confines. There was no
chance I could ever fully grasp what Maggie had been through or the
burden of the blame she carried. No chance I could understand how
the fear had consumed her every day.

What I did know was I wished I would have ended Troy
that night.

“I’ve made so many mistakes.” Maggie’s head was back
on my shoulder, and she ran lazy circles with her fingertips over
my chest. Her tone was full of regret.

I kissed the top of her head, my nose in her hair.
“We all have.”

Or maybe our circumstances made them for us.

I drew her closer as the first hint of morning
lightened the darkness at the window, and I kissed her reverently
as I held her cheek in my hand. “Are you ready?”

She leaned into the connection, her eyes closed, and
nodded. “Yes.”

We dressed in silence, stealing glances at one
another, a steady build of anxiety filling the room.

Taking her hand, I led her out into the emerging
morning light. Above the trees, the black sky had brightened to a
dull grayish blue. There was barely a chill to the air, but Maggie
still shivered.

“Are you scared?” I looked her way as we walked
hand-in-hand over the graveled driveway.

At the end of the drive, we turned to face each
other, our fingers still woven, the air in the six inches of space
between us a slowly simmering storm. “Terrified,” she admitted.

As much as I wanted to tell her it would all be okay
and she had nothing to worry about, I’d never belittle what she’d
lived through with Troy. We both knew what he was capable of.
Instead I pulled her into my arms and murmured against her head, “I
love you, Maggie.”

On a sigh, she relaxed into my hold, the warmth of
her breath at my neck. “Jonathan’s going to be so confused.”

My gaze traveled up the street to where our child
still slept, unaware the life he knew was soon to be upended. “What
will you tell him?”

“The truth, I guess.” She tightened her hold, looked
up at me from the circle of my arms. “As much as he can understand,
anyway.”

“Do you think he’ll be frightened of me?” Sadness
spiked in my chest, grief for the child I felt so close to yet
still didn’t know.

“I don’t know…a little, probably. But he thinks
you’re good.” A pensive smile lifted her mouth. “He’ll be okay.
He’s just going to need some time to get used to you.”

I pulled her closer, kissed her softly. “I’ll do
whatever it takes.”

Stepping back, Maggie squeezed my hand between us,
and glanced over her shoulder up the street. “I need to get back
before Jonathan wakes up. I’ll let you know as soon as I’m ready to
go.”

I nodded. “I’ll be waiting.”

Her hand dropped away and my heart clenched.
Yesterday, I’d been desperate for a resolution, and today, I
finally had one. With it came every kind of fear that could ever be
found, physical fear for a girl who was the bravest I knew, fear of
the intense love I felt for her, fear of becoming a father.

I watched as she moved up the street, her movements
slow and filled with contemplation. In front of her sister’s,
Maggie hesitated, looking back at me. I lifted my hand. My smile
was soft, and her expression was knowing.

We were risking it all.

When she disappeared inside, I turned to go back to
the guesthouse. I froze when I noticed the figure concealed on the
front porch. Blake eased forward and rested a hand above his head
on the wood post.

“You leaving?”

I shoved my hands in my pockets and looked up at my
brother. “Yeah.”

We stared at each other. Blake nodded, and a
satisfied smile crept over the shadows of his face.

William ~ Present Day

Blake followed me into the guesthouse, pausing at
the door as he apprised the small room. “You gonna tell me what
happened?” He moved to sit at the edge of the chair.

I scratched at the back of my head. “She just showed
up in the middle of the night. God, Blake, I can’t begin to tell
you the things she’s been through.” My mouth opened on a heavy
exhale. “But she’s ready to get out, and I’m going with her.” I
looked over at my brother. “You know I’d stay if I could? This
isn’t the same as before. I’m not leaving because I’m running.”

Blake leaned forward with his forearms on his legs,
clasping his hands together. “You think I don’t get that, Will?
They’re your family. You’re supposed to take care of them. I’d be
disappointed in you if you didn’t go with them.”

I shouldn’t have been surprised that Blake would be
one-hundred percent supportive.

“I’ll be back. As soon as we figure all this shit
out,” I promised.

“When are you leaving?”

“Today or tomorrow. This is a huge step for her. I
think she’s been stalling because she’s scared to take it. I wanted
to leave first thing this morning, but she said she needed to tell
her sister everything first.” It killed me Troy still held that
dominance over her, the needling of control he’d so precisely woven
into her over the years.

“You think she’ll go through with it?”

I stilled, thinking of everything Maggie had
revealed to me last night. “Yeah, I do.”

Grabbing the suitcase from the top shelf of the
closet, I began tossing my meager belongings inside, wanting to be
prepared for the moment Maggie came for me.

Blake sat up. “What are you going to tell Mom?”

“The truth. I’m going to head over there after I get
my stuff packed.”

“You know Mom’s not going to be happy to learn you
had an affair with the girl who cleaned our house.”

I recoiled at the assertion, disgusted by the very
term. But I had to accept by hiding our relationship the way we
had, that’s exactly what we’d made it. It wouldn’t even make sense
to Mom the way it had to Blake. There were no clues for her to snap
into place. She had no idea of the way I’d fought for Maggie. I’d
not let my mother in, hadn’t shown her how my life and heart had
been forever changed that summer.

“And she just got you back, and now you’re leaving
again. This is going to be a lot for her to take in on one
day.”

“I know, but I don’t have a choice. I have to
believe she’ll understand.”

It took me all of ten minutes to pack the few things
I had in the guesthouse. I left my suitcase on the floor, ready for
Maggie when she was ready for me. Then I followed Blake out.

Neither of us pretended me pulling up the roots that
had just been planted wasn’t going to hurt. As much as I would miss
it here, where I was headed was so much greater.

To Maggie. To Jonathan.

To Life.

Comfort slipped as warmth over my skin, assuaged the
fear bubbling under the surface. I now recognized the dreams as a
call, a lure for where I was supposed to be.

“All right, man, I have to head to work. Just keep
me updated, okay?”

“Sure thing.”

Blake leaned in for a shake and pulled me into a
hug. “Be safe, Will.”

I backed out behind Blake. Accelerating up the road,
I traced my thumb over the face plate of my phone and brought it to
my ear. I drummed my fingers impatiently on the steering wheel. The
phone rang four times then went to voicemail. Silently cursing, I
listened through the prompt and waited for the beep. Why I would
have expected Tom to answer his work line so early in the morning,
I had no idea. It was barely eight my time and much earlier in
California.

“Hey, Tom, it’s William. Change of plans. I’m
getting Maggie and Jonathan out of here.” I stirred in
anticipation, still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that
this was really happening. I swallowed and focused on the road as I
drove toward my parents’ house, strain evidenced in my tone. “We’re
heading north, not sure where, maybe New York or Vermont. Maggie
will do whatever it takes to keep Troy away from Jonathan. I don’t
care what it costs…whoever we have to hire. Just…tell me who to
contact and what information you need.” I released the air from my
lungs in overt gratitude. “You don’t know how much I appreciate
this, Tom. Thank you.”

Pressing end, I dropped the phone to my lap and took
the last turn into my parents’ neighborhood. Unease curled my
fingers around the wheel.

In the driveway, I shifted into park. Dad’s truck
was gone. He’d have left for work hours ago. The house seemed
quiet—no movement from the windows, no sound as I stepped out and
rounded the corner to the back of the house.

I climbed the steps, knocking quietly before I let
myself in. “Ma?”

“Is that you, William?” she called from
upstairs.

“Yeah.”

Footsteps echoed down the stairs. Mom smiled in
surprised pleasure when she appeared in the entryway, her head
cocked to the side in curiosity. “What are you doing here so
early?” She walked across the kitchen and topped off her coffee
cup. “Would you like some coffee?”

“Sure.” I took a seat at the breakfast table, my
knee bouncing as I struggled to rein in the discord playing havoc
with my heart and mind, smoldering turbulence of hope and joy and
outright fear.

And shame.

I should have told my mom, when instead I’d pushed
her aside. That in itself made me a coward, a fool who’d rather
punish my family than face what had torn me up inside.

When she turned back to me, she had that look on her
face, intuition tightening her features, as if in those few seconds
with her back to me she’d been stricken with my turmoil. Since I’d
been back, she’d never pushed, although there was an obvious
understanding between us that one day I would share whatever
secrets I’d kept hidden. It was clear now she knew I was there to
finally let her in.

She set the cup down in front of me.

Pulling at the edge of my mouth was a small smile, a
minute portion of the joy locked up by the acute anxiety I felt
making its way out, though I knew the overriding apprehension was
apparent in the way I trembled.

Mom looked away, seemed to take time to ready
herself for whatever I said, then settled in a chair across from me
with her hands flat on the table.

“You know you can tell me anything, William.” Even
though she tried to control it, her voice faltered at the end.

I spun words through my mind, searching for the best
way to tell her.

I decided to just lay it out.

Looking up, I met the unconcealed worry in her
gaze.

“You know Maggie Krieger.” It wasn’t a question, but
a preface, a reference back to that time when Maggie didn’t bear
Troy’s name.

Confusion creased her forehead, and her eyes
narrowed as she made sense of the name.

“Well…of course I know her.” A tremor of her hands,
a twitch of her jaw. I was sure she was sifting through every
possible scenario in her head.

Shifting forward, I lowered my voice as if it would
lessen the blow. “Mom...Jonathan is my son.”

She paled, and her arms dropped to her sides as she
shrank back in her chair. Her head shook with a slight movement.
Silently she mumbled
no
. “You wouldn’t do that,” she almost
begged, though the tears gathering in her eyes asserted she knew I
had. I felt sick when she closed her eyes as if to block the sight
of me. “You…you left her?”

I stretched my arm across the table, reaching for
the hand that was no longer there. “No, Ma. I would never do that.
She ended things with me the night I left. I didn’t know about
Jonathan.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, still shaking.
“But you slept with her?” The legs of her chair screeched across
the floor, forcing distance between us, though she didn’t rise,
just looked blankly at the wall behind me. “The girl I welcomed
into this house, to
help
her, you slept with her?” Disgust
lined every crevice of her face, her voice cracking with
disenchanted anger when her attention snapped back to me. “Where,
William?”

I couldn’t say anything, just stared at my mother
with patent guilt.

“Here? In my house? Oh my God.”

“Mom…please…it wasn’t like that. I loved her.”

“Did you even know why she was here? Did you know
anything about her, or did you just look at her like she was one of
those little tramps you were so fond of in college?”

“Ma—“

She raised a shaky hand to stop me. “Do you have any
idea what happened to her when she was little girl?”

The chair beneath me flew back. A loud crack bounced
off the walls as the chair clattered to the tile.

“Stop!” Every doubt I’d ever had slammed into me
full force, the worry that I’d pushed Maggie too far, crossed
boundaries she hadn’t known how to draw. But even if I had, it
didn’t change anything. “I knew every goddamned thing, and all I
wanted to do was help her...save her. I loved her so much I
couldn’t sleep at night.”

I turned away, burying my hands in my hair. I’d not
expected
this
. Disappointment, yes. But contempt, no.

Pacing, I worked to gather my thoughts. I looked at
the door, forcing back the inclination to run. I refused to walk
out like that again. My footsteps were light when I moved back to
the table. I pulled out the chair nestled under the table next to
my mom and placed it facing her. When I sat, she kept her head
bowed, her hands in fists on her lap. Our knees touched when I
leaned forward and placed my hand over hers.

“Ma.” With my voice soft, I implored with her to
just look at me. “Please listen to me, because I don’t have much
time.”