* * *
At Betty’s Used Books, I purchased Hemingway’s, A Farewell to Arms in a paperback. I hoped, Tree might take a liking to this story. Maybe even bring some culture into his life, then I admitted the only culture Tree had in his life was speaking German and eating Chinese and Mexican food, which would probably be the extent of it. Not to mention the only things he read were car and guitar magazines. Oh, and he had a huge collection of comic books.
Stepping outside into the cold wind, I hurried to my car, not liking the looks of the clouds whipping across the dark amber sky. I wanted to get home before it turned ugly, but then felt the weight of someone’s eyes on my back. I stopped and turned. My hair flew in front of my face. I swiped it back, looking about. Debris swept the street, swirling around me, but nothing else caught my attention. I quickly entered my car and peeled out of the parking lot, liking the sound of the tires squealing against the damp asphalt.
When I got home, I immediately went to work. A fierce wind rattled the windows, and a rumble broke just above the roof. I kept my mind busy by highlighting the book for Tree, not wanting to think about anything else but that. I pretty much knew the story, so it didn’t take me long to do. Afterwards, I turned the TV on. A continuous beeping filled the room with a robotic voice warning of a serious thunderstorm for my county.
Damn, if only Nathan …
Cutting that thought off, I redirected my mind on my own essay. It was easy, and I had the rough draft done before bedtime. The lights flickered at the same time the phone rang. Closing my notebook, I rose from the kitchen table and went to the phone. With a pounding heart, I looked at caller I.D. and picked it up.
“Hi, Carrie,” I said, taking slow breaths to calm my heart.
A flash of white light sparked through the sliding glass window in the kitchen, then a loud boom shook the house. The lights flickered again. I snatched a flashlight from a bottom cupboard in the kitchen and place it on the table next to my schoolwork.
“Are you mad at me?” she asked point blank.
“No, I just need some time to myself.” I moved over to the window and watched Mother Nature’s strobe stab through the dark forest. For a brief second, I thought I saw a face poking out from behind a tree. It looked like Nathan, but when I took a closer look, there was nothing there.
“Promise.”
“I swear. I’m not mad at you.” I yanked the curtains across the window and scolded myself for being so pathetic. I mean, seriously, I had to force myself not to think about Nathan, and now I was having hallucinations of him. How sad was that?
“Good, because I was worried when Matt said you’d talk to me later, and you didn’t call.”
“It’s all good,” I said.
The rain thrashed across the windows, followed by a ding, ding, ding sound. Hail.
Carrie stayed on the phone with me until the storm left, probably because she knew how I hated to be alone in a thunderstorm. She told me all about her date with Matt and that they made out for hours in his jeep. But before we hung up, she became quiet. I braced myself for the inevitable question.
“Have you heard from Nathan?”
“No.”
“He’ll call. He’s probably giving you some space.”
“I don’t know, Carrie, but I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I understand. But if you do, I’m here for you.”
“I know and appreciate it. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Okay. Have sweet dreams.”
“You do the same.”
I hung up the phone, feeling myself spiraling downward. I knew I had to do something quick before the loneliness in my heart consumed me. I decided on taking a shower, thinking the hot water would calm me, but I soon discovered it was a lost cause when the thoughts I’d been suppressing all day began circling me like a pack of hungry wolves. Cruelly, my mind reminded me of Nathan’s arms around me, the touch of his lips on mine, that fire he ignited inside me, the overwhelming electricity we had between us, and how perfect we were together.
And now, despite what Nathan and I had between us, he was out of my life. And yeah, I could call him, but he didn’t even care enough to open up to me, so what was the point?
He didn’t care enough.
The realization of that punched a hole in my gut, and I sat in the middle of the tub hunched over, my broken sobs echoing off the ceramic tile. The hot water sprayed over my shaking body, joining the tears pouring off my face. But the tears weren’t only reserved for Nathan, they were for my father and Brayden as well. My heart ached for them, and I missed them like crazy. And so I stayed hunched over in the tub until the water turned ice cold, and I had no choice but to get out.