Jamie and I spend a minute or two trying to fake it that we’ve got it together. Chris marvels at the hole in the ceiling, and we pretend that it’s no big deal. We don’t have a gaping, terrible hole in the center of our universe, leaking rain like tears.
“I’ll go get Tom,” I tell them both. I walk down to my bedroom, but he’s not there. I walk up the side of the house. I am stepping alongside the prints left by my heels this morning. How fucking typical. I keep walking the same impulsive, selfish path.
Tom’s truck has reversed almost out of the drive. I’m running, but I’m not fast enough. I try. I’ve chased him as far as the corner of Simons Street when I lose all power, and in his rearview mirror if he looked he’d see me doubled over, cursing my heart, cursing myself.
But I feel like this time he doesn’t look back for me.
*
AFTER TWO DAYS without Tom, I am a stone-cold wreck.
“He’ll be back tomorrow,” Jamie tells me, but his usual confident tone is slipping. He hands me a mug of tea. “Drink this.”
“I can’t.” I twist around on the front steps and put it down with a slosh. “I can’t.” The sunset is soaking everything in obnoxiously pretty colors.
“You’re gonna have to eat or drink something. And sleep at some point. Your hair’s gonna go gray at this rate.” Jamie slaps my medication bottle in my hand. “Take them.” He sits next to me with a groan. He’s tired after living two days of Tom’s life. “I can’t believe how much shit he deals with.”
Jamie went into recovery mode after he scooped me off the pavement and my heart regained the ability to pump. He half carried me inside, sat me on the closed toilet lid, and commandeered Colin the moment he walked in.
“I’ll double your daily rate to be site manager. Tom’s got an emergency.”
“Done,” Colin said. There’s no I told you so glint in his eyes, only concern. “Okay, boys, set up, and I’ll task Chris. Power’s off from nine sharp.” With Colin’s experience, Jamie’s bulldozer will, and my phone-answering skills, the renovation has continued to tick along.
“We need him back,” I groan desperately, mashing my palms against my closed eyes. “We broke him.” I hear a car engine. I sit up. It drives past, and I exhale and put my head in my hands. “Did you call Mom and Dad?”
Jamie has his arm around my shoulders now.
“Tom was there yesterday. He dropped off his mom around dinnertime. She’s in their spare room, the nice one that opens to the ocean. She’s okay. There are identical cats everywhere.” Jamie takes out his phone and shows a picture that Mom sent. There are black and white cats on the bench. The couches. The windowsills and on top of the fridge. “Mom’s kind of loving it. She calls them all Mr. Tuxedo.”
There’s another shot of Tom’s mom, Fiona, waving at the camera. The smile doesn’t reach her eyes. It reminds me of when we gave her our welcome basket, all those years ago.
“I don’t care about cats. Where did he go?”
“Mom doesn’t know. She said he barely said anything while he was there, and said he had to get going. He didn’t stay the night. She tried to make him stay, but he was just back in his truck. He apologized, but she didn’t know what for.” Jamie hesitates on something.
“Tell me.”
“He left Patty with them.” He wraps his arm tighter until we’re hip to hip. Together, we shiver through all the scenarios.
“I don’t care what he did.” I found my passport on my pillow. I would put that thing in the toaster to get Tom back. “He really thinks we’ll never forgive him. Over money and a passport!”
“It’s not a hard leap to make,” Jamie admits. “We’re both psychopaths about—”
“Money and freedom. I know. I know. I hate us.” I hang my head between my knees. “I can’t bear this. He’s just dropped completely off the grid.”
“It sucks, doesn’t it,” Jamie says without any accusation in his tone. He’s gentle. “This is why we get hurt when you do it.”
“I won’t anymore.” I swallow a big lump in my throat. “If you can deal with me …”
“Yeah. You’re staying.” Jamie pats my hand and then takes Tom’s phone from me. “You know we have to try Megan.” He says this with an apology in his voice that I’ve never heard before. “We gotta, Darce. I’m right here.” He keeps his arm around me as he dials.
“Darcy?” Megan says when she answers.
“Darcy and Jamie,” Jamie says when I have no voice. “Is Tom there?”
“Okay, so he told me what to say when you called. First thing: Don’t panic. No, wait, that was advice for me. Second thing: Tell Darcy that we’re not back together.” Megan exhales nervously. “Hear that, Darcy? We’re not.”
“I heard it.” My voice is croaky. “Is he okay?”
“He is. He said he needs time to think. He said he made two big mistakes, and he’s made you both angry.”
“He hasn’t,” Jamie and I answer in twin unison.
“That’s what I told him,” Megan responds. “Everyone knows how much you two love him. You know what he’s like. So hard on himself if he isn’t …”
“Perfect.” The horrible word sounds like a curse out of my mouth. “Yeah, we know it.”
“He’s been under a lot of pressure and it’s just gotten to be too much.”
“Can I … Can I talk to him?” I am suddenly sick with nerves.
“He’s not staying with me. He only came by to …” She pauses.
“Pick up the ring,” Jamie supplies with no tact.
“Yeah,” she replies, soft and sad. “He said he needed it for something important.”
“Megan, I’m sorry I stared at you at Christmas.” I blurt it out. “I’m sorry. I never wanted you guys to break up, and I think your skin is phenomenal.”
She laughs. I hear the sounds of children in the background. Like she’s outside. “You did stare at me, so much.” She’s not resentful. “But I stared at you, too.”
It’s laughable. She’s a ten. I’m a solid six in the right light. “Me? Why would you?”
Megan covers the phone receiver. Says something like, In a minute, sweetie. Then she says, “Because I always knew how much he loves you.”