30. Chaz
Chapter 30
Chaz
A fresh six inches of snow had fallen overnight, but typical of northern New Hampshire, the roads were cleared and salted for the so-called morning traffic. Still, there was no point in rushing south when my dinner date wasn’t available until after five.
I was at the shop for most of the day, teaching Josh how to switch out a radiator on a truck older than mine and trusting him to complete that day’s smaller jobs. An oil change and tail light bulb replacement, all easily finished up before the end of the workday for him.
Route 16 was pretty much empty of headlights around me as I drove, the interior of my truck as silent as my head. This sense of peace had been a long time coming. My therapist was thrilled with the results I’d sown from crossing over outside of my comfort zone.
Dad and I met up twice in the last month for lunch, discussing his past and how it had affected him throughout adulthood. Never had I ever imagined him showing such vulnerability and a desire to better himself emotionally. I’d expected to bury him as stubborn as he’d been born. He’d told me Mom had given him an ultimatum, and he loved her more than life, so I shouldn’t have been surprised he’d begun to make steps toward facing his demons.
While I was no therapist, and he had no wish to meet with one, it was obvious as the nose on my face that changes were taking place inside his head and heart, and talking to me about it was good for both of us.
He even hugged me the day before after we walked out of Dig-In to head back to our office responsibilities.
Speaking of work, hiring Josh was the best thing I could have done. Besides doing exactly what I’d expected—getting more cars in and out of the shop and us seeing better profits, the boy was a whiz with numbers, just like Jamie. He had walked into the office late December to see me struggling with the shop’s budget.
He offered to help out, and I’d handed that shit over, completely trusting him because the kid had integrity and had proven his work ethics.
Josh suggested software that would keep track of shit for the next calendar year, so I spent the money, and fuck me, what an investment. Hours of my time returned to me with that accounting program, and all I had to do was input some shit and let the computer do the rest to balance that month’s books.
Yeah, Josh was pure gold in my opinion, and I loved seeing his and Kyle’s relationship continue to thrive.
He wasn’t aware why I was driving down to Berlin, that shit was a little too personal for boss/employee in my opinion, but he’d grinned when I stated I was taking off early. It was plain as hell on his face that he thought he knew why.
But Jamie wasn’t my sole reason for visiting the city I hadn’t been to since Shelly’s death. Didn’t set the kid straight either.
I walked into the ER a few minutes later, expecting to be triggered considering what I’d seen and heard last time I’d been there. Memories flitted through my mind, but I focused on the help desk rather than allowing the lingering grief to stir up and make me emotional.
“How can I help you?” the receptionist asked, her tone and eyes kind.
“I’m looking for Tara?”
“And you are?”
“Chaz Henderson—she’s expecting me.”
“I’ll tell her you’re here.”
I nodded my thanks, shoved my hands in my coat pockets to keep them from shaking, and stepped away from the desk, moving to stand in the exact spot Tara had slid to the floor with her arms wrapped around my wife’s lover. While sadness filled me for both of them, the threat of tears no longer stung.
I had texted Shelly’s old friend earlier in the week, asking if she would be willing to meet with me sometime. She’d suggested Thursday for dinner, and the sooner than later I’d been hoping for had me agreeing regardless of having to leave work earlier than usual.
Tara exited the Employees Only door beyond the receptionist’s desk, coat and bag in hand. She eyed me a little warily but smiled. “Hi.”
“Hey.” I mirrored her smile even though I wasn’t feeling it, trying to put her at ease. “We can eat at the cafeteria if you don’t have a long break,” I said, thinking she might just be halfway through her shift, but she shook her head.
“I came in at noon and took a half day since I didn’t think this conversation would be a short one.”
I’d expected the same but hadn’t wanted to push for too much of her time.
“I heard Jackie’s is where to go for a good, home-cooked meal.” I suggested Mom’s favorite place to eat whenever she and Dad came to Berlin.
“Sounds good to me,” Tara agreed, and I motioned for her to lead the way. “Want to follow me or do you know where you’re going?”
I’d already checked the vicinity out since I had plans after dinner. “I’ll meet you there.”
We parted ways in the parking lot, and I gripped the steering wheel tight, focused on breathing in a steady rhythm while driving across town, determined to keep from overthinking about the what-ifs.
Our discomfort was clear as we met up outside Jackie’s, both of our smiles tentative. Searching.
We were shown to a booth in the front window, and we placed our orders, then peered at each other across the table once left alone.
“How have you been handling her death?” I asked, assuming they were as close as Shelly had suggested.
“Isn’t that what I ought to be asking you?” Tara said, her blue eyes flitting over my face, seeking as much as her tone.
“Better than I ever expected to,” I answered honestly. “You?”
She shrugged and glanced away, reaching to put a straw in her ginger ale.
“I know about her boyfriend. I saw you consoling him that night in the ER.”
The blood drained from her face, and she closed her eyes, chin dipping. “It’s my fault they hooked up.”
“They were more than that though,” I said. “He was heartbroken. Devastated by the loss.”
“Yeah,” she whispered, stirring her tonic. “He was a friend of a friend. We all went out for drinks in July, they hit it off, and…yeah. I’m sorry.”
“It wasn’t any more your fault than it was mine for ignoring her and making her needy enough she looked for love elsewhere,” I said. Tara nodded but still wouldn’t meet my gaze. “Would you tell me about your relationship with my wife? What she shared with you about theirs?”
Tara blew out a heavy exhale but nodded.
As expected, Shelly had complained to her friend about how she and I had grown apart, that neither of us were the same carefree kids from high school we’d been when we’d first gotten together. The hard times we’d had and resulting heartache had allowed for a wedge to slip between us rather than drawing us closer as some luckier couples tended to do.
“Shelly said over and over that she didn’t know how to fix things.”
“We both made mistakes.” I stated the truth my therapist had helped me see, thankful to no longer feel the overwhelming guilt that had attempted to bury me a few months earlier.
“She loved you.” Tara finally lifted her focus off the food she’d been attempting to eat in the half hour we’d been sitting across from each other. “Even after she met?—”
“I’d rather not know his name, thanks.”
Tara nodded and continued.
They had clicked. Instant chemistry, the kind that couldn’t be ignored.
I understood all too well and didn’t feel a single ounce of jealousy or anger over the line she’d crossed.
According to Tara, Shelly had fought the draw but continued to flirt. Messaging between the two of them continued, and the next weekend she’d visited Berlin, she’d ended up staying with him rather than Tara.
“He made her smile again,” Tara said, shrugging as though unsure of what else to say.
“Were you aware she was pregnant with his child?”
Tara’s face drained of color, her eyes widening. “What? No! Oh, my God.” Wetness oozed over her blue irises, turning them murky. Twin tears slid over her cheeks.
“I’m sure you know a child is what she wanted more than anything.”
Her stilted nod answered my unasked question.
“I couldn’t give that to her, but he could. I would have gladly signed whatever divorce paperwork she’d wanted just to see her happy and finally enjoying the family she’d always dreamed about having.”
Tears continued to pour down Tara’s cheeks, and I struggled to keep my own sadness from welling up—but not to put on a stoic, supposed strong front as Dad would have suggested I do before our settling on walking a path of healing together. I didn’t want to start crying and not be able to stop since I still had more emotional upheaval in the near future.
At least, I expected it anyway.
I reached across the table and took her hand, needing to show some sort of support. “Can I ask what happened to him?”
“He moved home.” She sniffed and wiped at her cheeks with her napkin. “Washington, I think?”
I nodded, relieved over the news I probably wouldn’t ever run into him again.
It was another ten minutes before we exited Jackie’s. Neither of us promised to stay in touch, but we did share a brief hug outside the restaurant’s entrance.
“Take care of yourself, Chaz,” Tara said close to my ear. “And thanks for this—I needed the closure.”
“You too, and same. I appreciate your meeting with me.” I stepped back before offering to walk her to her car.
One step down, one more to go.