Chapter 6 Reese
REESE
“That went better than I hoped,” Reese said to Roan as she put on her coat near the back entrance.
“I’m surprised they opened up like that. I thought Grace might be overly optimistic about getting the kids to talk to us.”
“I thought the same.” Reese located her scarf in her bag and wrapped it around her neck. “Okay, well, I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess.”
“What’s our plan for the kids?”
Reese hesitated. He was right. They should talk about how to structure their time with them. She couldn’t believe she was saying it, but she suggested they go up to The Moose for a drink. “We can nail down the details.”
For a moment, she thought he might decline.
He was probably worried she’d ask him more about the past, which she had no intention of doing.
The bomb he’d dropped the other night at Grace’s was still stuck in the back of her mind.
She couldn’t dislodge it long enough to figure out if it were true or not.
Should she just let it go? Leave the past where it belonged?
Seeing the crew tonight reminded her how young teenagers really were.
Their bodies may look like adults, but their hearts and minds were not fully developed.
Maybe that was the reason God had brought her into this project—to show her that Roan was a kid back then.
This heartbreak and resentment she’d carried around all these years seemed kind of ridiculous when she looked at it in this light.
“Yeah, let’s get a drink,” Roan said finally. “I’ll buy.”
“Great.”
He got on his jacket and a minute later they were walking toward The Moose.
The city center was alive with people enjoying the festive decorations.
The tree in the middle of the town square had yet to be lit, but garlands hung from lanterns, lights twinkled from store windows, and the scents of popcorn and hot chocolate permeated the air.
Shoppers carrying bags of whatever surprises lay within came in and out of the toy shop, bookstore, and Ivy’s home goods store.
“Sugarville has its Christmas on,” Roan said. “I forgot what it was like here.”
“They’ve ramped it up since we were kids,” Reese said. “The tree lighting’s still a big deal. That’s next week. Plus the snowball fight, which people go bananas for. The toy shop always offers up a really great prize for the winner.”
“I heard something about that,” Roan said.
They had reached The Moose by then, stopping by the sculpture of the bar’s namesake wearing a Santa hat on each of his ears.
“Have you ever seen a moose in Sugarville Grove?” Roan asked, reaching out to adjust one of the hats. “Because all the years I lived here, I never saw one.”
“One time. Recently, actually. Mauve and I were out on a walk in the fall and we came out of a wooded area into a meadow, and there he was.”
“What was he like?”
Reese thought for a moment about how to describe him. “Majestic. Awe-inspiring. Huge. I wouldn’t want to meet him with my car, I can say without a doubt.”
They climbed the steps to the restaurant. He held the door open for her to pass through. She caught a scent of his cologne and an ache of desire swept through her. She pushed it aside. Keeping her wits about her was more important than ever.
Inside, it was lively for a week night. Most of the booths in the restaurant were taken, so they headed into the bar instead, sitting at a small table near the window with a view of the moose’s rear-end.
A server came by to take their order—a beer for Roan and a glass of white wine for her.
They sat awkwardly for a moment. Reese wasn’t sure what to say.
Now that she was here, staring at his rugged, handsome face, she was at a loss for words.
He may have aged since last she saw him, but his essence was the same, as was her attraction to him.
He’d always made her stomach flutter. She’d not thought it possible, but he was even better looking now than when they were teenagers.
His face had thinned, making his cheekbones even more prominent, and there was a wisdom in his green eyes that had replaced one of recklessness.
He’d been so good with the kids earlier.
A calming, trustworthy presence in their chaotic lives. Grace had been right to choose him.
“What kind of schedule should we work out for the kids?” Roan asked, pulling her from her thoughts. “What kind of time can you spare?”
“I can fit them in. My evening classes don’t start until four.
” She explained that she taught adult dance in the mornings, designed around the school’s schedule to accommodate mothers with children.
Mid-morning were her toddler and pre-kindergarten classes.
At noon, she taught a barre class for adults.
Then, she had a break until four when her first class started for kids in grade school.
At five, she offered classes for middle school ages.
Finally, at six she taught high school kids.
“They get out of school around two-thirty, so they could get to us by three. We could spend an hour with them.”
They talked for a few minutes about how to structure the time. Mondays and Thursdays would be CrossFit days, Tuesday and Friday dance at Reese’s studio. Wednesday would remain flexible, depending on what the kids were interested in doing.
“I’m not sure how this will go, but it’s worth trying if it helps to reach these kids,” Reese said.
“Agreed.”
For a second, they were quiet, the sounds of the busy restaurant all around them.
“Listen, about the other night,” Roan said.
“What about it?”
“I’m sorry I told you that about your dad. I had no intention of doing so. I hope it hasn’t caused you further heartache.”
She opened her mouth to answer, realized she had no idea what to say, and closed it again.
“Anyway, I just wanted to say that,” Roan said. “And also, I’m sorry about how I treated you. If it makes you feel any better, I’ve never forgiven myself for it.”
The server came by with their drinks. She waited until she was gone before answering. “I was thinking about all of that tonight. Listening to the kids, I realized how young we were back then. Even though we felt like adults, we weren’t.”
“I was a child, obviously,” Roan said. “And so lost after my mom died. Regardless, I want you to know how sorry I am.”
“Like I said, it was a long time ago. But I appreciate you saying that.”
“It’s inadequate, I know.” He sipped from his beer. “I don’t know how to explain why I did what I did. Other than my frontal lobe clearly wasn’t as developed as I thought it was.”
“I couldn’t figure out what I’d done that would make you leave without saying goodbye. Or not show up to take me to prom.”
He flinched as if she’d pinched him. “That was awful. I know it was. But I couldn’t face a gym full of kids, especially after what happened during our English final.”
Reese closed her eyes as the painful memory forced itself back into her mind. She’d almost forgotten that part of the story.
“It was the poem, wasn’t it?” Reese asked. “Mrs. Patterson made us analyze that Elizabeth Bishop poem. ‘One Art.’”
“Yeah, that’s the one. It tries to convince you that losing things isn’t hard, over and over, while describing increasingly terrible losses.
My mom had just died. It pulled me into a dark place.
An angry place. If you had told me that I’d cry in front of a room full of other kids, I wouldn’t have believed it.
But that’s how grief is. Just a tidal wave you don’t see coming. ”
Reese had been sitting three rows behind him. She’d seen his shoulders start to shake. He’d dropped his pencil and it had rolled under someone else desk. The whole class watched Roan Hayes, star athlete, steady and strong, fall apart in the middle of a test.
“I was there.” Reese shuddered at the memory. All these years later, she could still hear the howl of grief that had come from his young body. “I’d never heard anything like it. I hope I never again have to.”
“I tried to get myself together, but it was impossible. I’d held it in since she’d died and, once it was out, there was no bringing it back.”
“Mrs. Patterson tried to help,” Reese said.
“Which made it worse.” Roan’s jaw tightened. “She was so kind. Told me I could finish the test another time, that it was okay. But everyone was looking at me. Including you. Your face all white and shocked, just staring at me as if you didn’t know me.”
“I didn’t know what was happening,” Reese said. “I was scared.”
“I went out to my truck. Sat there for I don’t know how long, crying.
Finally, Jason came out and found me. Drove us to Aunt Grace’s house.
But I had to go back to school the next day.
Whether it was true or not, I felt like everyone was looking at me.
Talking about me. Which, as you may remember, for a teenager, is excruciating. ”
Reese remembered the aftermath. The whispers in the hallway. The way people looked at Roan with pity when he came back to school. He’d finished his other finals but had been quiet, withdrawn. She’d tried to talk to him but he’d brushed her off, saying he was fine.
“Thinking about taking the prettiest girl to prom after I made such a spectacle felt impossible. As much as I loved you, I couldn’t put on a tux and pretend to be normal.
Not even for you. Plus, the demons were hard at work, telling me over and over how unworthy I was of you. How I ruined everything.”
“If you’d just talked to me,” Reese said. “Maybe I could’ve helped.”
“I wanted to. But the morning of prom, your father showed up at my house.” Roan picked up the dinner knife the server had dropped off, running it along the palm of his hand.
“He told me not to show up. He said it was the one thing I could do that would prove to you once and for all I was trouble. The kind of guy who doesn’t show up when he’s needed. ”
Reese’s breath caught. “He came to your house? That morning? That’s when he warned you off?”