“Maybe,” she said with a shrug. “Actions have consequences, but you didn’t allow me to have them.”
Sam laughed with surprise. “Next time, I’ll be sure and let you have them.”
“You’re missing the point,” she said. “Sometimes, people need to fall on their faces so that they can get back up. They need to lie on the floor of Mountain View and try to peel their shoulders up. It’s not your fault that Tony tried to take his own life. It’s not your fault that I took Alice to get her costume or tried to talk to Ryan.”
“I know that, Libby,” he said patiently. “But this is a matter of trust between us. Of stability. Do you understand that?”
A tear slipped from her eye, and Sam couldn’t help himself; he stepped forward, cupped her face in his hands. “Look, I’m not asking you to change or to be something you’re not. But I can’t be with someone who is impetuous, because I can’t survive it. I know that about me.”
She grabbed his wrist and wrapped her fingers tightly around it. “Maybe I am impetuous from time to time, but I’m just me, living my life as best as I know how. Sometimes I make mistakes. Sometimes I fall. It’s called life, Sam.”
But it wasn’t his life.
“I love you, I do, I love you,” she said earnestly. “I was numb before I met you, Sam. I wasn’t really breathing until I met you. You helped me find my way, to feel as if I was living again, really living. I still love you, I miss you every moment, and I want to be with you.”
Sam kissed her forehead, then freed himself from her hold. “I can’t, Libby. I’ve worked too hard and struggled too long to risk it.”
He stepped back, turned to his Japanese pagoda. He waited for her tearful promises, or at least the sound of her retreat.
But Libby said, “So this is the old It’s not you, it’s me speech, huh?” she said, her voice low and shaking. “You know what, Sam? These last two weeks, I’ve been so worried about how disappointed you must be. But I suddenly get it—you’re just a coward.”
Sam’s pulse leapt. He slowly turned around. “What did you say?”
“You heard me,” she said angrily. “You’re a coward. You’re so afraid of disappointment, of being hurt, of living that you hide up here with your birdhouses and pretend that you’re doing some noble thing!”
Her outburst stunned Sam. “Are you really going to stand there and lecture me?”
“Yes! At least I own my weaknesses. At least I try and face them. But you don’t even do that! Yes, you’re sober. Yes, you’ve fought a long, hard battle, and you have to keep fighting for the rest of your life. I get that, I admire that. But you know what, Sam? You hide behind it!” She lurched forward, her gaze piercing his. “Because you are a coward,” she said, poking him hard in the chest with each word.
He caught her finger in his fist. “You have no idea what I’m talking about.”
“Yes I do,” she said, jerking her hand free. “We’ve both made mistakes. We’ve both paid huge prices for them. But I’m not afraid to try again, Sam. What I’m afraid of is not trying, of ending up in some tiny little shed making birdhouses for the rest of my life instead of finding love and happiness and discovering what it is I’ve been stumbling around and looking for. But you? You will hide in here and occasionally go out to check on people who are far more damaged than you, so that you can keep patting yourself on the back, telling yourself you’re doing the right thing by hiding! Well guess what, you’re in luck!” she cried, casting her arms wide. “You don’t have to check on me ever again, because I don’t have any use for cowards.” She fled then, running across his deck.
Sam stood where she’d left him, trying to find his breath. He felt as if she’d just rammed a fist into his gut, had knocked his feet out from beneath him. He slowly turned back to his pagoda. He took a deep breath. And then another. And then he picked up the hammer and smashed his pagoda to pieces.
THIRTY-ONE
Libby drove in a blind rage back to Homecoming Ranch, going much too fast on the gravel road up to the house, so that her car bounced and landed sideways a couple of times.
As she barreled into the drive, Tony limped out onto the lawn, his eyes wide, and watched her car slide to a stop before the house. “Hey, hey!” he shouted, waving his hand at her. “What are you doing? I’ve worked hard on that car, and you’re going to ruin it driving like that!”
“Sorry,” Libby said, and waved at Jason, who had wandered out of the garage to see what the commotion was about. Inside the garage, Libby could see Ernest’s old work truck, up on blocks.
“What’s going on?” Jason asked.
“I’ll tell you what’s going on!” Libby shouted. “It’s a new day at Homecoming Ranch. Stay tuned, guys!”