The little diner was busy. Ally glanced around, there in body but not in spirit. The peace of mind she’d craved when she’d decided to go and talk to Jack still eluded her. Her mood seemed to see-saw between relief that they had been able to talk alone finally, to confusion at what he had to say. Smack in the middle of that war of emotions was the almost maternal need to protect him – from Callum’s anger, from the guilt he seemed determined to shoulder, from everything. It was a heady mix.
She found herself reflecting on the complexity of the universe during the hours before dawn. After the accident, everything was different. Every day was a challenge and once the dust began to settle, she realised how far-reaching the consequences of what happened really were. Jack left. Callum spent almost every waking moment with her, and if he wasn’t there, Maggie or Tom were. Callum and Jane broke up. Callum sold his beloved van. She couldn’t help but feel responsible.
The only way she could control things was to try and minimise the negative effect she was having on the lives of everyone she loved. She stopped venting her frustrations and began internalising them instead.
She understood why everyone seemed determined to keep her and Jack apart, but it wasn’t helping. She needed to talk to him, and she needed him to answer her – properly, with words that made sense to her, not the half-hearted, vague explanations he had offered the other day. The only thing she took away from that conversation was that he shouldered an insane amount of guilt over the accident. She needed more. What happened to him over the past four years? Where did he go? She was determined to get answers. Anything had to be better than not knowing.
“Hey, you gonna eat that cake or not?”
“Help yourself, I’m not really hungry.”
She slid her plate across the table. Glancing casually sideways, the quiet chatter at the next table over stopped momentarily. Guilty looks accompanied the silence and anger bubbled up from inside of her. She tried to ignore it, watching as Maggie helped herself to her slice of cake. The chatter started up again in hushed, exaggerated whispers. She heard Jack’s name and she turned her attention back to the window, trying to block it out.
The street outside was busy with people going about their daily routine. Cars pulled in and out of the parking lot outside the diner. An elderly man walked his dog across the street. A mother scolded a toddler with bouncing blonde curls, holding onto her hand tightly as she scanned the busy street for a safe time to cross.
“Okay, that’s enough. Speak.”
Ally still scanned the street outside. “I hate this.”
“What?”
“This,” Ally said, tearing herself away from the window. She leaned forward, frowning as her gaze encompassed the crowded diner. “The gossiping, the idle chit-chat. Can’t they just leave it alone for once?”
Maggie pushed the plate away and dabbed her lips lightly with the paper napkin, balling it up and throwing it onto the plate with the remnants of the cake.
“In this town? You’ve got to be joking. This is big news. Just ignore it, they’re not talking about you. It’s Jack’s problem, not yours.”
The coffee Ally had been drinking only moments ago turned to ash in her stomach.
“This is your home, you belong here. He doesn’t, not anymore.”
Despite everything, Ally couldn’t help but feel that Jack didn’t deserve this – it was no fun being the subject of gossip. Had everyone forgotten that he had just lost his father?
“Do you realise how hard it must’ve been for him to come back here, after what happened?” she pleaded, trying to make Maggie understand.
“Of course I do. That takes guts, I know that,” Maggie said, keeping her voice low. “But on the other hand, it should be hard for him. Do you really think he should get to waltz back here, no questions asked?”
Ally could feel tears welling up even as she fought for control.
“What happened the other day?” Maggie asked, sitting forward. “One minute you don’t want to talk to him, and the next minute you’re going over there for a chat?”
Ally stared across the table at her friend, trying to figure out how to explain it. “I needed to know.”
“Know what?”
She searched for the right words. When they finally came, tumbling out in a rush, she saw things clearly for the first time since Tom’s death.
“How could he have just left me like that? I thought he loved me. Was what happened to me so awful, he couldn’t stand to even look at me? Why didn’t he come home? I mean, where’s he been all this time?” Her voice caught in her throat. “I tried pretending it didn’t matter, believe me, I tried, but that’s a lie. It matters, it matters a lot. I want answers. I think I deserve them, and now that he’s here, I finally get a chance to ask him.”
“So what did he say when you talked to him? Did he tell you what you wanted to hear?” Maggie folded her arms in front of her on the table.
“Not really. I did most of the talking. He didn’t really say much except how sorry he was.”
“That’s understandable.”
“Yeah, but it’s not what I wanted.”
“You didn’t want an apology?”
“No, not like that. I wanted answers. I need to talk to him again, but I’m worried about Callum.”