Without You Here (13 page)

"You won't find liquor. My folks allowed us to drink so I never had to sneak it. Cigarettes...maybe. They'll be hidden good, though, because Amberlee didn't like me to smoke. Hey, who are the centerfolds in those things."

"Ummm...just a minute." He heard magazine pages flipping. "We've got Cindy Brooks and...India Allen."

"Oh, India. I'd forgotten about her. I'm gonna need a moment."

"Stop it!" she laughed.

"You know, you kind of look like India, if I recall. Pouty lips. Sultry eyes. Kind of a sweet, baby face."

"Yeah, you just described every playmate in the history of playmates."

He laughed. "Maybe so. Except for the baby face thing. Not too many women can look both seductive and innocent."

"Is that what I look like to you?"

"Oh yeah."

"Well you're a paradox too. You look both dangerous and safe. Doesn't make any sense."

"One's what you want. The other's what you need. And the truth's somewhere in the middle."

"Know what I want, Wyatt?"

He closed his eyes. "Tell me."

"I want...hey! Why do you have the entire Sweet Valley High series on your bookshelf?"

He deflated. He'd been bracing himself for some potential phone sex. Which, even though he'd just had her only a couple of hours ago, he was beyond ready for. "They're Amberlee's."

"She kept her books in your room?"

"She practically lived with me senior year."

"Your mom let your girlfriend live with you?"

"Her dad kicked her out of the house. She moved in with us. Mom made me sleep on the couch on school nights."

"And how often did you sneak up here?"

He chuckled. "Pretty much whenever I could get away with it. There was a squeaky stair and sometimes it got me caught."

She was quiet for a long moment. He didn't have the heart or the courage to interrupt her. He didn't want to get off the phone. At last she sighed. "I don't know what to do, Wyatt."

He closed his eyes again.

"I think we should tell Blake. I think we should just get this out there and let the healing begin."

He didn't answer.

"Wyatt, you've got all this loving support around you. Do you have any idea how lucky you are to have this family? Do you have any idea what a blessing it is? They love you so much and they're not going to stop loving you over this. Tell Blake and let the chips fall where they may. Have some faith in your son and your family."

"I love your positive outlook on life," he said, and he sincerely meant it

"Then you'll do it?"

"No. And you know why? Because if you were my girl and I found out my dad had slept with you, I'd honest-to-God have to kill somebody."

"If you tell him, then when all this blows over, we can be together."

"We were never going to be together, sweetheart."

Silence.

His chest ached and he was finding it hard to keep his breathing even. "Ettie, I—“

"Please," she said, her voice high and weak. "Please tell him. For me, then. Whether or not you and I will...it just doesn't matter. Because I love Blake. He's one of my two best friends, and you know what, Wyatt? They're my only friends. They're all I have in the world. And I know I can't be a part of this beautiful family of yours, but I don't want to lose my friends. We have to handle this right before he finds out on his own."

"No." It was all he could say. He had to grit his teeth together to keep the emotion locked up.

"No?" she squeaked.

"No. He's my son and I love him more than you." He'd meant to say he loved Blake more than she did, but it didn't come out that way.

She was quiet. He hoped she wasn’t crying. He bet he'd made this poor girl cry more in one day than she had in her whole life.

"Ettie, I can't. I've failed at so much already, I can't tell him I've failed as a father, too. There's no reason for him to ever find out. You and I are done. You're going home Sunday and that's the end of it. We should just both forget the whole thing ever happened."

Still quiet.

"You've had a big day—“

"Fuck you!" she squeaked.

His breath hitched. "Ettie, I want you so much, you have to know that." Why? Why was he saying this? Why was he still talking? "If circumstances were different, I'd—“

"Stop. Just stop!" She got quiet again and seemed to be pulling herself together some. "It's okay," she said, calmer now. "This is your call. He's your son. It's fine. Just...let me know if you change your mind. I've never in my life bothered to carry this much on my conscience without repenting of it and I think it's terrible of you to ask me to do it. But I don't feel like it's my choice, in this case."

He wasn't sure what to say to that. Thanks, maybe? "I'll just add it to my long list of sins, Ettie. I'm sorry."

"You're wrong, too, you know that? You're wrong to do this."

She hung up and he dropped his arm to the bed, the phone still in his hands. He loved her. He wasn't sure what that meant. But he knew it was true. Maybe he'd never see her again after Sunday. But he'd never forget her. He sighed and fell asleep.

CHAPTER TWELVE

I went downstairs at six the next morning. There were male voices and a lot of rustling around or else I might have stayed asleep longer. But I couldn't resist the allure of activity. People going about their lives. My curiosity was insatiable all the time. It was one of the things Blake hated most about me. I would have stayed upstairs if I'd known one of the male voices was Wyatt's.

He was in the kitchen with Liza helping put together breakfast burritos, which she was wrapping in foil. Charles and Stan were there packing up fishing gear. I almost had time to turn and run back upstairs, but Wyatt's eyes locked on mine. And to tell the truth, I was glad for it. His expression was stern and wary. I wondered if he knew that Liza knew. She was watching him watching me.

"Good morning," I said, just to the room in general.

"Mornin'" said Charles, with a smile. "Hope we didn't wake you."

"Nope. I'm just an early riser."

Wyatt had resorted to pointedly ignoring me. I edged into the kitchen and poured myself a cup of coffee. I leaned back on the counter and sipped. I was well out of the way of the activity.

"Feel like coming fishing with us, Ettie?" Charles asked.

I saw Wyatt tense. His back was to me, but I could read his shoulders pretty well. "I would love to go fishing," I said, because it was true. I'd enjoy it. I liked being around these particular men and I liked fishing.

"No girls, Dad," Wyatt said, still working on breakfast with his back to me.

Guess he didn't want me there.

"Why no girls?" Charles asked.

Wyatt jerked his thumb at me, still not looking at me. "This one's a talker. And we're fishing for food, not fun."

"Hey!" I said, standing tall. "I can be quiet!"

Wyatt snorted.

Stan cocked his head at Wyatt. "You know, seems to me I remember Amberlee saying that. You wanted her to go fishing and she said since you were fishing for food and not fun, just the men should go. Which, first of all is ridiculous. And secondly...I believe your response to her was that
all
fishing is for fun."

"Why don't you try doing something useful with that perfect memory of yours," Wyatt said.

Stan rolled his eyes. "You come along with us if you want, Ettie. Call that lazy boyfriend of yours and have him meet us."

"Good luck with that," Wyatt said. "I threw his shoes at him this morning and told him to get up. He didn't even move."

Liza finished wrapping the burritos and then turned and smiled at Ettie. "Why don't you go put some long jeans on, Dear. The weeds are pretty grown up out where they're going."

I bit my lip, trying not to smile. I really wanted to go. But Wyatt couldn't possibly want me there. Not after our phone call last night. But if he felt for me what I felt for him, he'd be happy just being near me. That was what I wanted. A safe way to be near him and know that we wouldn't be doing anything foolish, but that we could enjoy our last bit of time together.

Wyatt turned and folded his arms over his chest. He gave me one of those inscrutable looks of his. So I folded my arms over my chest and lifted my chin, trying to match his stare. The corners of his lips quirked up. He dropped his gaze slowly to my chest. "Go on then," he said.

He did that on purpose. He knew that look was going to make me blush all over and there was nothing I could do about it. So I fled upstairs to find my jeans.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Wyatt didn't want her to come. But he was so glad she was coming. He wouldn't be able to touch her, which was a good thing. But he enjoyed being with her even so. He finished packing the small cooler and then started to help his dad and brother out to the four wheelers.

"Hold up, Wyatt," Liza said.

He shoved the cooler at Stan and turned to her. "What's up?"

She waited until the other two guys were gone, which Wyatt thought was weird. This couldn't be good. "What's up, Mom?" he asked.

She was smiling at him in that proud, motherly way. He couldn't imagine what she was doing. "I just want you to know that I know. About you and Ettie."

He sat down hard on a barstool. "What?"

"I know. And I think we should discuss this soon."

Wyatt's world came a little more undone. And it wasn't that together to begin with. Ettie came bounding down the stairs in jeans and a tank top with a hoodie sweatshirt tied around her waist. Her hair was in a ponytail and her endless enthusiasm radiated off her skin. "Why'd you tell her?" he asked.

Ettie froze where she stood. "I didn't, Wyatt. I swear."

"I figured it out," Liza said. "You know what a gossip Lyle Allen is. He described her vividly. I put a few things together and I confronted her with it last night."

Wyatt looked down at the counter. He used his thumbnail to chip away at a place where some bread dough had dropped and hardened. "She should have lied," he muttered.

"Even if she had, I already had my mind made up."

He sat there and tried to sift through what he was feeling. There was this odd sensation of relief. And a tad bit of excitement. He wondered what the hell was wrong with him.

Ettie inched a little closer. She said in a hesitant voice, "I...I didn't rat on you about the Playboys I found under your mattress."

He choked on a laugh and grinned up at her. She grinned back. He felt that connection that he got with her. The one he never wanted to let go of. "I'll find some dirt on you one of these days, girl. I'll call your Mom and spill my guts. No hesitation."

"You're too loyal."

He shook his head. "Not to you. Not after this."

She was grinning. She bit her bottom lip, probably to keep from laughing. "Can I still go fishing with you?"

He sobered and looked back down at the counter. Then up at his mom, as though she had any answers. She was just smiling, proud as punch. "Why do you look so happy?"

Liza shrugged. "This is all so interesting, that's all."

He shook his head. He'd never understood his mother. Loved her whole-heartedly. Just never understood her. Suddenly he felt Ettie's hand, hesitant, on his back. He closed his eyes. Smiled. It felt good, even this small touch. "I'm set to burn in hell for all eternity. May as well take you fishing while I can."

"Yay!" she squealed. She bounced up and down and then kissed him on the cheek before running out the back door.

Wyatt groaned and stood.

"It's okay to have feelings for her, son," Liza said.

Wyatt just stared at her.

"You can work this out with Blake. He'll need some time, I'm sure. But eventually...."

He looked away and she stopped.

"Wyatt, I'm worried for you."

He was glad Ettie was going home. That was one thing he knew for sure. Not having her here could only be a good thing. Because he couldn't take the swings. Moments with Ettie lifted him up into the light. And then she would leave and he'd drop back into blackness. It seemed worse every time. The guilt got worse and worse. The depression...God, how he hated that word...got to where he wondered how much more he could bear. "I can't hear Amberlee's voice when she's here. It's better for her to go home."

"If she makes you happy—“

"Why should I ever be happy again?" He looked at his mom, then, wanting to know if she had an answer for him. "What have I ever done to deserve to be happy? I couldn't make her happy, could I? Not even when she was healthy. I tried. So hard. And I never could. I couldn't save her. I couldn't make her remaining days pleasant. I can't even do anything for her now. Now that she's at rest. I keep thinking, there's gotta be a way I can make it up to her. If I keep doing all those things she wanted me to do, then, maybe she's still around, you know? Looking on. And maybe she's happy with me. When I'm doing those things. Maybe if I keep working and listen real hard, maybe I'll hear her voice again and she'll tell me she's finally happy." He gave himself a good shake and looked away. "Anyway, you're right. Ettie makes me happy. Which is the main reason I want her gone. I don't ever want to see her again."

He left before Liza could answer. He didn't want to hear anything else from her. He didn't want to talk anymore. He wished he could put all those words he'd spilled out just now back inside his head. He'd been doing a lot of talking the past week and he didn't like it. He was meant to bear these feelings alone.

Ettie was sitting on the back of a four wheeler alone. Stan and Charles must have ridden on to the fishing pond. Wyatt climbed on and waited while Ettie adjusted. She hugged her arms around him and leaned into his back. He fired up the bike and took off.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

This fishing spot was even more remote than the one we'd gone to last Friday. We had to ride along a narrow, dirt trail through the woods with branches slapping at our faces and vines and briars grasping at our ankles. Then we parked near where Stan and Charles had parked and hiked an even more rustic trail. I followed behind Wyatt, carrying the fishing rod he was lending me. Suddenly he stopped and I ran into his back. He paused for a moment. Then he stepped forward and knelt down. When he stood back up, he turned to face me, holding a snake in his hands at least three feet long. It was striped red, black, and yellow.