“Come on.” He tossed his cone wrapper into a trashcan and headed back to our bikes. “Let’s go to the fun house on the boardwalk and you can practice.”
My mother and I had left town at the end of August, just as Trevor was getting ready to go back to school. We said we’d write to each other, and for a few months after that, I did. But of course my mother and I were always moving, so soon any return letters Trevor sent got lost somewhere on the road behind us.
The dream I have now about Trevor Hart is a collage of moments—his gap-toothed grin, his cheering me on, his belief in my future.
And when I wake, I wonder whatever became of the boy who’d been my best friend for just one summer. As I lie there staring at the pattern of sunlight on the ceiling, I think Trevor might have grown into the type of man Tyler Wilkes is.
The thought makes me surprisingly happy.
CHAPTER TWELVE
October 5
ny conclusions?” Kelsey pulls her sunglasses from her bag and slips them on as we walk down Avalon Street.
I don’t bother pretending I don’t know what she’s talking about. “No. Still in a rough patch. I didn’t handle the whole thing very well.”
“How’s Dean?”
“Okay. Busy. At least he’s got important stuff to do.”
I kick at a loose stone. I’m glum. Things with Dean and I aren’t bad, but they’re not great either. He’s busy with work, I stay occupied with the Historical Museum, the bookstore, and cooking class. We have sex every now and then, but still not nearly as often as we used to.
“And how’s the cooking class?” Kelsey asks.
“Fine. I’m not all that great at it, but I guess it’s fun.”
“Good Lord.” Kelsey stops in the middle of the sidewalk. “What kind of Debbie Downer are you becoming?”
I blink. “What?”
“Are you listening to yourself?” Her voice takes on a whiney note. “I’m not good at it, I don’t do anything important, I fucked it up. What’s up with that? So things with you and Dean are kind of crappy right now. Doesn’t mean you’re allowed to walk around flogging yourself.”
I can only stand there staring at her. Kelsey takes off her sunglasses and looks hard at me.
“If you’re letting Dean’s reluctance about a baby do this to you—” she spreads her arms out as if to encompass all my self-criticism, “—then what happens if you actually have a baby, Liv? Is that what you want to teach a kid? When the chips are down, you blame yourself and moan about how lousy you are at everything?”
Good God. She’s right. Not only do I dislike where things stand with me and Dean, I’m also not all that nuts about myself right now.
“Well?” Kelsey demands. “Is that what you want?”
“No. No way.” I frown back at her.
I’m not like this. It’s true I’m still searching for something, but God knows I’ve fought my way through pitch darkness before. I know I have the strength to somehow untangle this mess with my husband.
Dean and I both do.
“So?” Kelsey waves her arms around again. “What’re you going to do?”
“I don’t know yet,” I admit, but there’s a very real, determined tone in my voice. “I’ll think of something.”
She steps back and nods. “Well. I guess that’s a start.” She pokes me in the chest with her forefinger. “And I never want to hear this whiney, I’m-a-piece-of-shit crap from you ever again.”
“Yes, ma’am. I love you.”
She sniffs and puts her sunglasses back on. “Don’t you dare hug me here in the middle of the sidewalk. Come on. You’re buying me a milkshake.”
As we continue walking, I can’t resist slinging an arm around her shoulders and giving her a quick squeeze. She mutters under her breath, but returns the gesture before we enter an ice-cream parlor.
After some debating, we agree that we each need our own milkshake, so we place the order then sit at a table by the window. She entertains me by grousing about her fellow professors and grad students, I tell her she needs to get laid, and she agrees heartily while we survey Avalon Street looking for a potential candidate.
“Hey, you and Professor Marvel be nice to each other.” Kelsey squeezes my shoulder as we part ways outside the ice-cream parlor. “And you be nice to yourself, okay?”
“Promise.” I subject her to another hug before we head in opposite directions.
I don’t feel like cooking anything tonight, so I stop at a deli on Ruby Street to pick up one of our routine meals of roasted chicken, green beans, and pasta salad. Because it’s still light out, I take a shortcut through the parking lots behind the buildings.
The instant I turn the corner, I sense someone behind me. My heartrate kicks into high gear, and I struggle to pull in a breath. I quicken my pace.
“Mrs. West?” a woman’s voice calls.
I stop and turn. A young woman approaches me, a backpack slung over one shoulder. I take another deep breath and will my pulse to stop pounding. As the woman nears, her features and her curly blond hair sharpen into clarity.
Crap. I force a smile.
“Hi, Maggie.”
“Mrs. West.” Maggie stops in front of me, her own breathing fast. She glances behind me, a quick, furtive look. “Sorry, I saw you heading this way.”