Chapter 16
Chapter 16
Blaise
NOW
In the morning, I’m awakened again by Fenway barking in the yard and Jack telling her to hush before she wakes their guest.
The dog just keeps barking like he didn’t say anything.
I’m smiling when I haul myself out of bed and make a beeline for coffee. Since I told my story to Houston, I already feel so much better than I have in years. I honestly don’t care what happens next. Anything—and I do mean anything —is better than knowing about such a thing and not speaking up.
I pull on a zip-up sweatshirt and take my coffee out to watch the Jack and Fenway show.
“I’m sorry,” he says when I appear in the doorway. “She’s incorrigible.”
“Don’t worry about it. There are worse sounds to wake up to than puppy joy.”
“That’s a nice way of looking at it. I hope you don’t give me a crappy Yelp review.”
I laugh at the goofy face he makes to go along with the comment. “I’ve never written a Yelp review in my life, and I’m not going to start with you.”
“Oh, thank goodness.”
He’s so cute and funny, and I appreciate that he shared his painful past with me. Losing both his parents in a matter of weeks had to have been a devasting blow. That he turned lemons into lemonade by adding the cottages to help pay the expenses so he could keep his childhood home is also admirable.
But I have other questions.
“So what do you do with yourself other than walk around barefooted, play with your dog at the crack of dawn and manage your property?”
“Hello, nine o’clock is not the crack of dawn. It’s like noon for those of us who know how to make the most of a day.”
“I’m on vacation. Why do I feel judged?”
He laughs, and a little shiver of excitement travels down my spine. When was the last time that happened? How about never? I was a late bloomer in the boyfriend department, which is why what I witnessed at seventeen set me back even further. I’ve dated here and there, had some sex I kind of enjoyed, but nothing special.
My newfound sense of freedom from the terrible burden has created space inside me to imagine things such as dating a guy like Jack, who’s fun, funny, handsome, sexy and he has a very cute dog. That’s definitely a plus. I’ve always loved dogs but never had an apartment that allowed pets.
Fenway comes rushing over to where I’m seated on the front step, drops her spitty ball at my feet and gives me a wet kiss before I have a second to prepare for any of it. “Damn, she’s quick.”
“The tongue is like lightning. It’s a weapon of mass destruction.”
I can’t believe the way I giggle like a young girl as the dog accosts me while her sexy owner says funny stuff about her.
“Fenway! That’s enough. Leave Blaise alone. She’s our guest.”
Fenway responds to his sterner tone of voice, plopping her rump down as she continues to pant and smile at me.
“She’s so cute.”
“And she knows it. That’s what makes her a holy terror.”
“You love her.”
“Desperately. She’s my best girl.”
“How’s a guy like you calling his Golden Retriever his best girl? And granted, she’s an exceptional Golden Retriever.”
“Are you asking why a sexy devil like me is single?”
I sputter with pretend outrage. “I never said that!”
“You didn’t have to. I know how it is.”
Rolling my eyes, I can’t help but laugh. “Whatever you say, stud.”
“I’ll have you know that I’ve had several girlfriends in my life that didn’t work out for one reason or another. Lately, I’ve decided single life is appealing, especially since Ms. Fenway came along and gave me someone other than myself to focus on.”
“I get that. Sometimes it’s just easier to stay uninvolved.”
“Sure is. You asked what I do. I’m an illustrator.”
“What does that entail?”
“I work with several children’s book publishers as well as ad agencies and others in need of original art.”
“Oh, wow. That sounds like the most fun job ever.”
“It’s pretty cool, and I get to work from home.” He gestures to the house. “The entire third floor is my studio.”
“Could I see it sometime?”
“Sure. Anytime you want.”
A crackle of something passes between us. I know he feels it as much as I do because he stares at me without blinking long enough that it would be awkward if it wasn’t for the crackle. “You want to come by later and check it out?”
“I’d love to. I have an appointment this afternoon, but I should be back before dinner.”
“Come find me. The door is always unlocked. Take the stairs to the top floor.”
“Are you sure I won’t be disturbing you?”
“Positive. Fenway and I like the company.”
“I’ll bring snacks.”
Hearing that word, Fenway launches from resting to full alert in one second flat.
As we laugh, Jack’s gaze collides with mine, and there’s that crackle again.
“You have to watch out for certain words around her.”
“Maybe you can give me the list.”
“We’d be happy to, but just so you know, I think she can spell, too, so that’s been a problem.”
“A dog who can spell. That’s a heck of a challenge.”
“You have no idea.”
I’m excited to have something to look forward to after reliving the horror of that long-ago night again with Houston. “Well, I’d better get myself together. See you guys later.”
“We can’t wait.”
“Neither can I.”
I’m nearly floating on air when I go inside to shower. As I dry my hair, I relive every second in the yard this morning, right down to his perpetually bare feet. Something about that strikes me as so endearing. It shows how comfortable he is in his home, and I like that about him. I like a lot of things about him, and for the first time in forever, that doesn’t scare me the way it would have only last week.
I’ve had such a strange relationship with men and dating and sex. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to tie that anxiety back to the trauma that changed my life forever. The first time I had sex, I cried the whole time as I pictured such a thing being forced on Neisy against her will. The poor guy didn’t know what to do with me. He left, and I never saw him again. I remember being relieved to have gotten that first time out of the way, but when I thought about the encounter, it was mixed with images of horror.
Maybe later I’ll tell Jack why I’m in town. Houston wants me to fill him in, and something tells me I could trust him with my deepest, darkest secret.
Houston and I spend two grueling hours going through every aspect of my statement. He picks it apart for holes he says the AG will ask me about, but I have an answer for everything. Whether those answers will satisfy the prosecutor is anyone’s guess. We’ll find out tomorrow.
Feeling battered, I leave the police station and head to the grocery store to pick up a few things I need as well as the snacks I promised to bring to Jack’s. I keep replaying the meeting with Houston and the emotions it resurrected. It’s overwhelming to tell my story for the third time in as many days after keeping it bottled up for so long.
I leave the windows down to let in the scents of autumn. That was my favorite time of year when I was a kid. I loved the fall colors and have always had an interest in gardening, although I’ve not been able to do much of that since I live in the city. My grandmother taught me the names of all the flowers, bushes and trees. I love that I can identify any of them on sight.
It's nice to think about things other than why I’m here. With a week to ten days until we’ll hear from the grand jury, I could go back to New York. I should do that. Wendall is texting me nonstop, and I’ve heard from others at the theater that he’s been more unmanageable than usual since I left.
Call me crazy but going back to that doesn’t appeal to me at all.
I pull into a spot at the grocery store. Before I can lose my nerve, I text Wendall. The family situation is complicated. I’d like to work remotely for the next month. If you can’t allow that, I’ll understand. Let me know.
I’m coming out of the store carrying a brown bag when my phone chimes with a new text from Wendall.
Family is everything. I understand. You can work however you want. I need you to keep me sane, Blaise, the goddess of organization. Please don’t leave me.
I laugh out loud at his over-the-top-ness. That’s the nicest thing he’s ever said to me. I should’ve had a “family crisis” sooner so I could find some humanity in him. My friends at the theater will be shocked by his kindness, but they also know how much I do for him.
As I’m getting ready to pull out of my parking space, the phone chimes again. Assuming it’s Wendall with more drama, I glance at the screen.
Sienna. I never did take her out of my phone contacts, even though I should have a long time ago.
I heard you’re back in town. I just hope you’re not running your mouth about things that don’t matter anymore.
A chill goes down my spine. Is that a threat? How did she hear I’m home? I haven’t seen anyone but my mother, who’d never tell a soul because I asked her not to.
As I drive to Jack’s, I keep an eye on the rearview mirror to see if I’m being followed. I’m the only car on the road, but I can’t escape the feeling that someone is watching me. That people have heard I’m back in town. That Sienna is the only other person on Earth who knows what we saw that night unless she eventually told Cam.
I doubt she did.
The anxiety her text arouses in me is tinged with sadness for a friendship that was destroyed on that momentous night. At one time, she was the most important person in my life. We told each other everything. And then that was gone, along with my innocence, my peace of mind, my sense of worth and so many other things suddenly lost because of one person’s actions.
I’m shaken by Sienna’s text and think about texting Jack to ask if we can get together another time. But as appealing as crawling into bed and pulling the covers over my head might seem, I don’t want to be alone.
So I arrange the crackers, cheese and fig spread I bought on a plate and then wash the grapes I got to have with it. I tuck a bottle of Chardonnay under my arm and head across the yard to Jack’s back door. From outside, I see lights on in his third-floor studio, so I follow his directions to the stairs. The beat of loud music gets closer as I go up two flights.
The door to the studio stands open, and Jack is singing along to “Gimme Shelter” by the Rolling Stones.
I stand back and watch him as he studies something on a huge drawing board, hands stuffed into the back pockets of his jeans, feet bare as usual and Fenway asleep on a bed by the window.
She senses me there first, and shoots to her feet, barking happily as she comes to greet me.
Jack turns to me, smiling, and cuts the volume on the music. “There you are. We’d about given up on you.”
“My meeting took longer than expected.”
“No worries. Come in.” He takes the plate and bottle of wine from me and puts them on a table, out of the dog’s reach.
“So this is where the magic happens, huh?”
“That’s what I’m told. I’m sorry it’s such a god-awful mess. It makes sense to me.”
Chaos is definitely the word I’d use to describe the colorful drawings tacked up on every available space on the wall, the works-in-progress on just about every surface as well as the paint and ink that stain the floor.
I point to a vivid illustration tacked up on a far wall. “May I?”
“Please. Make yourself at home while I check out the snacks you brought. I was just starting to get hungry.”
The color and detail are striking. He’s done everything from super heroes to fiery dragons to gentle scenes from a children’s story. Animals seem to be his specialty. I gasp at the drawing of Fenway that perfectly captures her, right down to the active tongue.
His talent is truly dazzling. “I’m seriously impressed.”
“I used to get in trouble in school for doodling nonstop.” He shrugs as he grins. “I showed them, right? Making a living out of coloring.”
“You sure did. I can’t believe the sheer breadth of it. You do it all.”
“But you can see where my interest lies.” He uses his chin to point toward the animals as he eats a cracker and cheese. He brings me a coffee mug with wine in it. “Nothing but the best in my studio.”
I touch my mug to his. “Cheers. Thank you for inviting me to the inner sanctum.”
“My pleasure. When you tell someone you’re an illustrator, they tend to look at you with skepticism. It helps to show them what that means.”
“Was I skeptical?”
“Not at all, which is why I liked you right away.”
“Oh, well, that’s good.” He’s flirting, right? I’m so out of practice, I’m not entirely sure.
“It’s very good. I appreciate people who aren’t skeptical of things they don’t understand or actually say things like, ‘oh, so you color for a living’ in an insulting tone.”
I laugh at the way he says that. “Do people really say that?”
“More often than you’d believe. My cousin tells everyone that’s what I do.”
He makes me laugh twice in two minutes, which has to be a record. It’s been such a long time since I felt like laughing or smiling.
He holds up the jar. “What’s this stuff?”
“Fig spread. Try it. It’s good.”
“Hmmm, I’ll be the judge of that.” He spreads some on a cracker and takes a bite. “Wow, that is good.”
“Told ya.”
“I never would’ve pictured figs in a spread.”
“You learn something new every day.”
“So it seems. Do you like pizza?”
“Doesn’t everyone?”
“I have a really cool pizza oven and every imaginable topping since I didn’t know what you’d prefer.”
“So you, like, planned ahead for my visit?”
“Something like that.”
“I’m impressed.”
“Don’t be. Pizza is the high-water mark when it comes to me and cooking. But my pizza is extraordinary. People come from all over for it.”
“If you’re going to do one thing well, you may as well kill it.”
“That’s my philosophy for all things that I do well. Which is draw and cook pizza.”
“You’re a great dog dad, too.”
“Okay, three things.”
“I bet there’re more.”
He waggles his brows at me. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
I feel my face turn bright red, which is mortifying.
“Adorable,” he says with a chuckle.
I grimace. “Awful.”
“Super adorable.”
“Who blushes at thirty-something, especially when their name is Blaise ?”
“You do, and I’m digging it. What else can I say to make it happen?”
“Don’t you dare!”
His grin lights up his face with a mischievous glee. “I do so love a challenge.”
“I urge you to decline that challenge.”
“If you’re going to be that way about it.”
“I am.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
“So,” he says with the grin I’m coming to like more and more, especially when he’s not trying to embarrass me, “how about that pizza?”
“Lead the way.”
We gather the treats I brought and the open bottle of wine and head downstairs.
“Watch out for Fenway. She’s an underfootnik.”
“Is that a word?”
“My own personal creation. I almost fall over her at least once a day because she tries to rush past me on the stairs.”
Just as he says that, the dog darts between us, forcing him to grab me so I don’t fall.
“Case in point. Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine. I love her. She’s adorable.”
“She’s a demon.”
“Don’t say that about your little girl!”
“It’s the truth. I love her madly, but she’s going to be the death of me. Literally, if she knocks me down the stairs.”
I stop on the second-floor landing to study photos on the wall that I missed on the way up. Young Jack with his parents, with other dogs, with groups of kids, birthday parties, soccer games, baseball, proms, graduations.
“My mom did that in case you’re wondering if I’m in love with myself.”
Again, he makes me laugh. I’ve laughed more in the last half hour than I have in years. It feels good.
“I didn’t have the heart to take it down.”
“Why would you ever take it down? It’s the sweetest thing.”
“If you say so. There’s nothing more precious than the only child of a mother who yearned for kids all her life and finally got me when she was thirty-eight.”
“Aw, she must’ve been thrilled.”
“That’s one word for what she was.”
His affection for her comes through loud and clear.
“Where’d you go to high school and college?”
“Bishop Stang and RISD.”
The Rhode Island School of Design in Providence is one of the nation’s premier art schools.
“Oh wow. RISD is amazing.”
“I loved every minute of being in school with people who understood that there’re worse things than wanting to doodle for a living.”
“I’ll bet.”
“Took a long time to convince my folks I could actually make a living out of doodling.”
“I bet they were very proud.”
“They were, especially when I started making some money at it.”
“That does tend to get the parental attention.”
“Right?”
We land on the first floor, and he leads me to a spacious kitchen in the back of the house that’s been fully renovated. The cabinets are painted a rich navy blue with a matching tile backsplash, white counters and high-end stainless-steel appliances.
“This is gorgeous.”
“It was my first project after I inherited the house. I couldn’t very well tell them their kitchen was hideously outdated while they were still alive.”
“True. That would’ve been rude.”
“I couldn’t wait to get my hands on it, though. Do you watch HGTV?”
“God, yes. I’m addicted.”
“Me, too, and I did this myself based on my HGTV degree.”
“You did not!”
“I did and let me tell you—watching it done on TV is nothing at all like doing it yourself. I was very quickly humbled.”
“I can’t believe you did it yourself.”
“It took almost a year because I was determined not to ask anyone for help.”
“Why didn’t you list renovation on your list of talents?”
“Because if it takes a year, that’s not a talent. That’s a fool’s errand. I got really good at microwaving during that time.”
“I’ll bet, but the final product is amazing. I’m impressed.”
“That was my only goal for this project. To someday impress an important new friend.”
I roll my eyes at him.
He’s too cute for his own good—and mine. And it occurs to me that before he decides he might like me, he needs to know why I came to town in the first place. Hearing my story might make him never want to see me again.
After he washes his hands, he dries them on a towel as he studies me. “Hey. What’s wrong?”
I shake it off and force a smile. “Nothing.”
“Something…”
“I want to tell you why I’m here, but I’m afraid you won’t want to be friends with me anymore.”
“And it would bother you if we weren’t friends anymore?”
I think he might be asking about more than just basic friendship. “Yeah, I think it would.”
He surprises me when he tosses the towel aside, takes my hand and leads me into a cozy living room with a wood-burning stove and two full walls of bookshelves.
I scan the shelves stuffed with books. “All this, and you read.”
“I saw a thing once advising women to quickly run for their lives if they come to a guy’s house and he has no books. So I bought these at a yard sale.”
“You did not.”
Laughing, he says, “Made you wonder, though, didn’t I?”
He’s fun, funny, handsome, talented, smart, sexy, sweet and kind. He’s all the things. And he deserves to know what I did before he decides if he wants to spend more time with me.
When we sit next to each other on the sofa, he doesn’t release my hand.
I’m one hundred percent sure that if I give even the slightest tug, he’ll let go instantly. The only fear I have of this man is the possibility of losing my heart to him. I’ve never experienced this kind of connection before, and I’d be sad to lose him before I ever got the chance to really know him.
“Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad.”
“It is. It’s terrible.”
He turns to face me. “Tell me.”
I fix my gaze on the far wall, so I won’t have to see his revulsion when I confess my sin to him. “When I was almost seventeen, I witnessed a crime. For many reasons that made sense to me at the time, I didn’t report what I saw. Keeping that secret for fourteen years has all but wrecked me, and this week, I finally reported it to Houston. That’s why I’m here.”
“Are they pursuing the case?”
“Houston thinks it’ll be presented to a grand jury in the next couple of weeks.”
“How do you feel since you came clean?”
“I feel free of a horrible burden but still ashamed that it took so long to do the right thing. For what it’s worth, I always knew it was wrong not to say anything.”
“It’s worth a lot. You were really young, Blaise. We all did things back in the day we’re not proud of.”
“This was a big one.”
“What was the crime?”
“I saw a guy I grew up with rape a girl who was relatively new to our school and who’d had a hard time there. She was beautiful, so of course she was treated as a threat by the other girls. It was a party I wasn’t supposed to be at here in LE, where I wasn’t allowed to go with the car. He’s my brother’s best friend. His brother had been dating my best friend for years by then. Those are my excuses, but at the end of the day, I stayed quiet while the victim was savaged online after she reported the crime a few weeks later, and I was afraid that would happen to me, too. The whole thing was horrible.”
“Were you the only one who saw it?”
I shake my head. “But I’m the only one coming forward. She’s married to the guy’s brother now. There’s no way she’d back me up. She was the one who told me how everyone would hate me if I confirmed it’d happened.”
“What a terrible spot to be in. I’m sorry that happened to you.”
I finally look at him. “It didn’t happen to me. It happened to her.”
“And to you because you witnessed a violent crime long before you had the maturity to handle it the way you should have.”
“How do you account for the last fourteen years when I was old enough to know better?”
“Is your brother still friends with him?”
Fenway nudges me, so I scratch behind her ears. “He is, and he recently gave up a great job to go to work for him.”
“Which is why you kept your mouth shut. Your friend is married to his brother. Your brother is tight with him. The ties still run deep, even if you removed yourself from the scene.”
“They do run deep. She’s not my friend anymore. I haven’t spoken to her since that summer, until she texted me today out of the blue to say she heard I was back in town, and I’d better not be running my mouth about things that don’t matter anymore.”
“Wait. She said that? In those exact words?”
“She did.”
“That sounds like a threat to me.”
“It did to me, too.”
“What’re you doing about that?”
“What can I do without revealing who else was there that night? I don’t feel it’s my place to force her to testify against her own brother-in-law.”
“Do you think you’ll be in danger when it gets out that you’re willing to testify against him?”
“Possibly. Houston told me I should tell you about this so you’re aware. He plans to increase patrols around here as needed. If it’s too much, I can relocate to—”
“Stop. You’re not going anywhere.”
“You don’t hate me after hearing what I did? Or I guess I should say what I failed to do?”
“Not at all. But why’d you decide to tell Houston now?”
“Because the man who did it is running for Congress. After I heard that, I couldn’t take it anymore.”
His face goes flat with shock. “Is it Ryder Elliott?”
I hesitate to confirm it, which answers his question.
“God, Blaise. Seriously?”
“Yeah. Do you know him?”
“Not personally. But I know of him.”
“You can’t say anything about this, Jack.”
“I never would, but you’re right that he’s well connected.”
“Always has been. He was the it guy in high school.”
“Why would he do something like that?”
“I’ve thought a lot about that. There’s never an excuse for sexual assault, but if there’s a reason he snapped it probably was tied up in his longtime girlfriend about to enter hospice care after a terrible battle with cancer. Who knows what that kind of stress does to someone, not that I’d ever in a million years try to justify what he did. It’s just hard to make the leap that someone you grew up with is truly evil, you know?”
“I get it, and I agree there’s no justification for what he did. I didn’t know he lost his girlfriend way back when.”
“It was very sad. Louisa was a wonderful person, and she fought so hard. Ryder was right by her side the whole way. He also raised a lot of money to help her family with medical bills. It was difficult for me to reconcile that Ryder with what I saw him do that night.”
“I’m sure it was.”
“Thank you for listening.”
“Thank you for sharing it with me. I know it can’t be easy to talk about.”
“It’s not. I’ve never talked about it with anyone before I told Houston, and now I’ve told the story to Houston twice as well as to you and my mom.”
“That’s a huge load to carry around for such a long time.”
“It’s been horrible. I was happy to hear this week that Denise, the woman he raped, is happily married with four kids. It’s good to know she found happiness.”
“You deserve that, too, you know.”
“Do I?”
“You do. I get why you feel awful about this, but you’re a good person.”
“How do you know that? I just told you I’m not a good person.”
“A bad person wouldn’t have cared so much for all this time. A bad person wouldn’t have eventually done the right thing, even knowing it could cost her a lot. You’re not a bad person, Blaise. You’re a good person who made a bad mistake at a time in her life when she didn’t have the wherewithal or maturity to do the right thing.”
“I’ve regretted that every day since.”
“Which is another thing a bad person wouldn’t have done.”
“A lot of people will hate me for this, including my own brother.”
“Probably. How do you feel about that?”
“I think it’ll be easier to live with that than it was to live with the secret.”
“I’m sure it will be.”
“Listen, this is a lot. If you want some time to think about whether you want to be friends—”
He shocks the shit out of me when he kisses the next words right off my lips. “I want to be friends, and I hope it was okay to tell you that way.”
I smile because how can I not? “It was okay.”
“Just okay? I can do much better than just okay.”
With my hand on his chest, I stop him from proving that right now. “Slow your roll, cowboy.”
“Fine, be that way, but just know I’m capable of way better than just okay.”
“Got it.” I’d really like to find out what he means by that, but not tonight. This is more than enough for right now.
“How about that pizza I promised you?”
I’m so relieved to have shared my story with him and not been tossed out on my ass. At least now I know for sure he’s interested in me as more than a friend, which is good news. Because I’m interested, too. “Let’s get to it.”