Chapter 20
Snot Queen
Caroline
“Why are you taking selfies in swimwear?” My mom peeked into my bedroom, where a tangle of possible outfits covered my white bedspread.
“I’m trying to decide what to pack.”
“Pack? Where are you going?” she asked, surprised.
“To the Scott family reunion... with Wyatt.” I felt myself smile everytime I said his name. I was absolutely giddy.
“Oh!” My mom looked concerned. “I know you said you were serious. But I didn’t realize you were that serious.”
“Mom, I don’t do anything but serious.”
“That’s the truth.” She let out a frustrated sigh. “Honey, I like Wyatt. I do. But I’m a little worried. You’ve told me so many times whata player he is. And now you’re full speed ahead. What’s changed?”
“You heard him yesterday. I don’t think this is a fling for him.”
“But have you talked about it?”
“Kind of, I mean, we just started dating.” I sat down on a clear spot at the edge of my bed, still wearing the swimsuit that was only a maybe. “I’m not about to start grilling him about his past.”
“I know... I know... I just don’t want to see you hurt.” She pushed aside a pair of jean shorts to make room to sit next to me. “I like Wyatt. I really do. But going to his reunion when there’s so many unanswered questions seems a little like rushing things.”
“You’re the one who said ‘welcome to the family!’”
“I got carried away. But my over-exuberance is no reason you should make a mistake.”
My mom made sense. I didn’t think dating Wyatt was a mistake, but going to his family reunion was a lot for a fledgling relationship. “But I already told him that I’d go.”
“Wyatt seems like a reasonable guy. I don’t think he’ll be upset because you didn’t go to his family reunion.”
“No, he wouldn’t be. Also, for the record, he didn’t ask me to go. It was my idea.”
“See, you’re already doing what you did with Greg. Bending over backwards to meet his schedule. Can you really lose a week of work on such short notice?”
“That’s not a problem. I’m making so much money selling used handbags that I’ve decreased my work as a stylist.”
“Really?” I hadn’t told my mom about any of this. Mainly because she wasn’t around that much this summer. She was always with Jeff.
“Yes, I only had to cancel one client appointment.”
“That’s wonderful. I had no idea that your work was going so well.”
“Yep, and it’s because of Wyatt. He was the one who found the vintage dresses and handbags that I first started selling. And I’ve done so well; I’ve started buying more vintage accessories.”
“That’s wonderful. Who knew your love of fashion would prove so profitable?” I tried not to say a snarky remark, but I couldn’t help it.
“ I did. Just like I know this thing with Wyatt is real and it’s good.”
“To be clear, Caro, I like Wyatt. I just don’t see any harm in taking things slow.”
She had a point. With Greg, I did everything I could to make him happy. So much so that I’m not sure he ever really knew the real me. But that wasn’t how it was with Wyatt. One of the best things about him was I felt completely safe to be myself, prickles and all.
***
The garage bay doors were closed when I arrived at Wyatt’s shop that evening.
Some wild turkeys wandered through the parking lot.
He told me to dress casual for dinner, so I wore jeans and a lacy blouse that just so happened to have buttons on the cuffs and a bow on the high, ruffled neck.
I was an absolute prairie goddess. I rang the buzzer at the door that led to his apartment. When there was no answer. I texted him.
He replied immediately.
Knox:
In the backyard grilling
I walked around to the back of the shop.
I’d never been back there before, though I’d often seen the view from the windows in Wyatt’s apartment.
I noted a sycamore tree standing in the field between the shop and the car barn.
I wandered through the knee-high golden grass to the stately old tree.
I placed my hand on the smooth, dappled bark and gazed up into the wide green leaves lined with light.
I spotted a long, sturdy limb, perfect for holding a rope swing.
This was it—the dream I had always wanted, hiding in plain sight behind the auto shop.
“Over here!” Wyatt called. I followed his voice to the flagstone patio nestled between the back of the shop and a small grove of trees.
Cafe lights were strung up between the back of the building and the trees beyond the patio.
A creek gurgled through the oaks and sycamores.
Ferns grew in the shade along with wild roses and sage.
Wyatt stood at the barbecue, giving off the promising smell of charcoal and perfectly cooked meat.
With tongs, he took the steaks off the grill and covered them with foil.
“Caroline.” I loved the way he said my name, savoring each syllable.
“You look... I mean, you always look good.” He wiped his hands with a bandana from his back pocket and stepped forward to greet me.
“Did I ever tell you I love it when you wear your hair down?” He ran his hand lightly over my hair.
It was the gentlest touch, but somehow it created havoc with my nervous system.
“C’mere, Your Majesty.” He placed his hand on my hip and pulled me close against him. “I missed you,” he whispered.
“I missed you, too,” I said as my lips touched his. We melted into each other, forgetting everything else in the world except for the sheer delight of kissing each other.
“Anyone home?” At the sound of Mo’s voice, we pulled apart. He looked between the two of us. Wyatt’s lips wore a smudge of my lipstick. I pointed at his face and mouthed lipstick. He pulled out his bandana and wiped it clean.
“When were you going to tell me about this?” Wyatt’s dad asked with fake indignation.
“It’s new,” I said, blushing.
“I thought I’d surprise you when I brought her to the reunion,” Wyatt said, taking my hand.
“Caroline’s going to the reunion?” Mo asked, sounding almost angry.
“Yes, Dad.” Wyatt entwined his fingers with mine. “Do you have a problem with that?”
“Did you talk to your grandma about this?”
“Of course, Dad.”
“Then I don’t know what she’s thinking,” said Mo.
“Dad, I know you like Caroline. Why are you upset?”
“Of course I like Caroline. That’s why I’m upset. I don’t think she’ll enjoy the reunion. Greg’s going to be there.”
“I knew that when I invited myself,” I said, stepping forward. “I’m determined to face my demons.”
“But did you know that Greg’s bringing his fiancée?”
“He’s engaged?” asked Wyatt.
“That bastard is still gunning to get my car. Can you believe it? I thought maybe Samson would drop the whole thing...”
As they continued, I had the strangest feeling that I was outside of my body, watching myself stumble away from Wyatt, who was still talking to his dad, and sit down at the picnic table.
I was shaking all over. I rested my head on the flat surface.
My senses seemed to be failing me... sounds seemed distant, the blood rushing in my head thundered.
Greg, who claimed he just wasn’t ready to settle down, was getting married!
He said it was him, not me. But obviously, it was me.
I wasn’t good enough. I never would be. I wasn’t lovable.
Wyatt’s voice came from a distance. “Caroline?” He placed a hand on my shoulder.
At his touch, I burst into tears. I sobbed and sobbed.
Wyatt sat down next to me. He softly rubbed my back as I was racked with violent crying.
It made no sense. I was over Greg. So why was I falling apart?
I had no idea. I couldn’t think about it; I was drowning in emotion.
I tried to pull myself together. But the tears kept coming, and the heartache felt as raw and real as it did when Greg first dumped me.
All the old hurt of trying and failing to be enough rushed back.
My chest felt tight. I struggled to breathe.
This surge of sadness terrified me. Just minutes before, I had been so happy about dating Wyatt.
I had been standing by the sycamore tree and picturing our future.
It looked so much better than anything with Greg.
He would have made me miserable. I knew that.
So why was I weeping as if my heart would break?
I had the vague sense of Mo leaving. I should have felt embarrassed about being hysterical like this in front of him. But I was too upset to care. I could hardly breathe through my sobs. Wyatt brought me a box of Kleenexes and a cold Diet Coke.
“Want to talk about it?” he asked during a lull in my breakdown.
I shook my head. I took a sip of my drink.
Wyatt was so sweet. And I was terrified.
Words came tumbling out of my mouth. “I tried so hard for so long to make him love me. And I couldn’t.
It was never enough. And now... he’s found someone else!
He’s getting married!” I gave in to another wave of misery.
“You don’t need to come to the reunion,” Wyatt said.
“I know.” I sniffled. “I don’t think I can handle it.” I looked up at him, certain I must have been a terrible sight. Prairie Goddess now turned snot queen. “I’m over Greg, I swear. But I just can’t be around him.”
Wyatt gave a stiff nod. I was keenly aware that he wasn’t touching me. I wanted him to touch me, to hold me like he did the night Jane announced her pregnancy. But he didn’t. In fact, the more I cried, the more stand-offish he became.
“Okay, so don’t,” he said. “That’s fine.”
“Thank you... I just can’t believe Greg’s getting married.” I let out a little sob.
Wyatt stood and walked a few paces from the table.
“It always about Greg!” His eyes were so cold and hard, it hurt to look at him. “Will you ever be over him?”
“I am over him! I am! I swear. It’s just that hearing about his engagement brings up so many bad memories, and it scares me. How do I know you won’t do the same?”
Wyatt stared at me. I had hoped, almost expected, that he would sit back down next to me, put his arms around me and say soothing, sweet promises, such as, “Don’t worry, Caroline, I’d never leave you!” Instead, he kept his mouth in a straight, angry line. His silence felt like a slap.
“Aren’t you going to say something?” I whined. How could he be so distant when I was hurting so much? “Please, Wyatt! Say something!”
“I have nothing to say.”
“Nothing? Please, Wyatt, I want to know what you’re thinking.”
“I don’t think you do,” he said in a forbidding tone.
“Please, tell me. How are we going to make things work if we don’t communicate?”
He stared off into the distance, then pinned his eyes on me. They glittered with anger.
“You asked for it. I am furious, Caroline. I cannot believe you’d compare me to my cousin.”
“I didn’t compare you to Greg.” He raised a skeptical brow. “I didn’t.” I maintained.
“You said all this thinking about Greg made you worry that I’d leave you.”
“That’s not what I said, not exactly... but yeah, you’ve got to understand that my history with him has me scared about a new relationship, and then... there’s your history. You can see why I’m nervous.”
“ My history? ”
“I promise I trust you. I know you’re not a player anymore . . . It’s just . . .”
“Anymore?” Wyatt strode back to the picnic table. He loomed over me. “What are you saying?”
“I mean . . . you know . . . how you used to date a lot of women . . . Greg told me about all your conquests.”
“Of course.” Wyatt nodded like it all made sense.
“Greg said I was a dropout; you believed him. Greg said I did drugs; again, you believed him. Greg said I was a womanizer, and you still believed him. When are you going to stop believing Greg? Conquests!” he said with disgust. “Do you even know me?”
“I... I’ve seen how women react to you. And you’re such a flirt.”
“I was flirting with you ! Because I like you. Dammit, Caroline! How could you even think that about me? I’m the furthest thing from a player.
I’m twenty-seven and have had a total of three girlfriends.
And I never cheated on any of them. Not even close!
Do you know why I broke up with Kaitlyn two years ago?
I realized I had feelings for someone else.
I couldn’t keep on dating her when I was in love with you. ”
“Oh!” I gasped. “Way back then?” This revelation stopped my emotional spiral. All this time, Wyatt had cared for me. And I had just accused him of being like Greg. No wonder he was so angry. His face was red and the muscle in his jaw ticked.
“Yes! And I haven’t dated anyone else since then. So, I don’t know what you mean when you say I’m a player.”
“I’m sorry,” I said in a small voice. “I really am... I shouldn’t have listened to Greg.” I started to cry again.
“Go home,” Wyatt said in a calmer voice. “I’m too angry to talk right now.”
I looked up at him through my tears. I heard what he said, but it was hard to believe.
He was not acting like a man in love. I wanted him to wrap his arms around me, just as he had so many times before, but he watched my silent tears unmoved.
I understood why he was upset. But if he cared, wouldn’t he want to comfort me?
Every moment he stood with his arms folded across his chest instead of holding me felt like he was purposely hurting me.
“I could really use a hug,” I whimpered.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” he said with so much spite I almost took back my request. But I really wanted that hug.
I stood up, and he hugged me stiffly. I don’t know how, but this unwilling hug felt worse than no hug.
“I’ve got to go,” I said, suddenly needing to be alone.
“Have fun at the reunion.” I ran to my car and cried.
I still hoped he would come, knock on my window, and say it was all okay and that he would forgive me.
But he didn’t. After I cried all my tears, I drove home and unpacked the bag I was planning on taking to the reunion.