Chapter 28
28
I WAS GOING OLD SCHOOL. No phone call to Micah or text. I was an adult, and I’d handle this situation like one. I would talk to him face-to-face. Going even more old school, I’d walked to his house, needing the extra time to order my thoughts. With every step, I’d battled a myriad of emotions swirling in my gut. Glancing at the bottled water in my hands, I wished it were Tums.
I entered his front gate, similar in style to the one bordering the café, and took the steps up to his porch. Indecision struck, my finger hovering over the doorbell. What if Mr. Gary was napping? I didn’t want to wake him. A bead of sweat escaped from my hairline, trickling down the back of my neck. Forming a fist, I knocked on the mint green wooden door and eased back. A sparrow caught my eye, its little body hopping along the blooming branches of the crepe myrtle on Micah’s sliver of lawn.
The door opened, and he appeared, clearly surprised. A layer of scruff graced his strong jaw, testifying to his being off work yesterday. His attention dithered on my sun hat, one corner of his mouth hitching.
I removed my sunglasses. “Can we talk? Alone?”
His rising smile fell. Before stepping out, he flipped a switch, the porch ceiling fan beginning a wobbly rotation. He shut the door behind him. “I’m sorry I haven’t texted you back, it’s just...” He scratched his cheek, his fingertips bristling against his stubble. His apology died midair.
It was the perfect transition to discussing one of the two items I’d come here for. But my old wound of being used burned in my chest, begging for relief, one way or another. I took a few steps across his narrow porch, passing two chairs, and licked my lips. Salt lingered on my tongue, and I wasn’t sure if it stemmed from sweat or my earlier tears. “Regina Claiborne dropped by my place.”
Micah’s head tipped, a question forming on his face.
“She caught me out front gardening and started talking about you. How you had to ‘wow’”—I air quoted the word—“them to secure a job. Is that why you originally came to me, asking to use the café?”
“No.” His direct gaze sharpened. “That had nothing to do with it. I only wanted the program to continue for the kids.”
Considering his unique and intimate history with the library, I believed him. A droplet of sweat rolled between my shoulder blades, all the way to my lower back. “Did you look for another venue, or did you only ask me?”
His intense stare weakened, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I only asked you.” He lowered onto one of the chairs, resting his elbows on his knees. The fan’s momentum increased, toying with his hair. “It seemed perfect. You had the space, a personal connection to the library with Hayley. And most of all...” His eyes rose, meeting mine. “It was nice to be around a friend. Then really nice once we became more than friends.”
My heart geared up to swoon.
But I was a Landry. And we did not allow emotions to cloud rationality. “And what about the adult educational series you’re starting? The one beginning with me teaching a class? A class I told you I can’t do.”
He straightened, blinking rapidly, his mouth falling open. “That’s not ... I mean ... Regina spoke out of turn. I only used you as an example of my vision.”
I pointed the water bottle to where I’d come from. “Are you sure about that? Because she was just at my place, thanking me for volunteering to kick it all off.”
“It’s a misunderstanding. One I’ll clear up.” Sincerity coated his features, his tone.
But Ryan had always seemed sincere too. I yanked off my hat. Fresh air kissed my perspiring scalp, doing little to extinguish my ire.
Micah rubbed his forehead. “I promise this looks worse than it is.”
“Really?” I scoffed. “Because to me, this looks like history repeating itself.”
He eyed me like an out-of-towner trying to peel boiled crawfish for the first time.
I dropped my hat upside down on the other chair, tossed my sunglasses on it, and turned toward his front lawn. The bottled water crackled beneath my strangling grasp. “Too many times I willingly sat by while Ryan used me in high school and all through college with papers and projects. And now he’s back and doing it on another level.” I gave a slow shake of my head. “Then I find out today about you.” I unscrewed the water, downing the last of it, balancing the empty container on the railing.
“This isn’t fair.” Micah’s low, rough voice drifted over my shoulder.
“You’re right. It’s not.” I faced him, crossing my arms, my skin grimy from sunscreen and sweat.
“No.” A line puckered between his brows. “I mean it’s not fair that you’re comparing me to Ryan.” Slowly, his eyes widened, his head tipping back. “And you’ve been doing it all along.” With a soft snort, he pushed to his feet and took two steps, grasping the railing with both hands.
From where I stood, I was justified in that comparison. That old “fool me once” saying wasn’t a cliché for nothing.
Except for the fan’s breeze stirring Micah’s hair, he remained eerily still, his expression contemplative. “This is more than today, with you thinking I’ve purposely used you. Which I haven’t.” His gaze anchored on his Jeep parked at the curb. “I’ve been waiting for the woman who kissed me during the luau like her life depended on it to return. We haven’t spent a lot of time alone together, but when we have, there’s this ... barrier. Like you’re not all in.” A vein pulsed at his temple. “And with you bringing up Ryan, it now makes sense.”
My arms loosened their stiff hold. I hated that he was right on that front. That he’d noticed my cautious heart.
His vision dipped to the lawn, the afternoon sun catching on his lashes. “It’s unfair for me to pay for his mistakes.”
It was like I’d stepped on a landmine, the truth of his words erupting, ricocheting within me. I hadn’t thought of it that way. Of my hesitation in our relationship resulting as a punishment for him. A heated tingle broke across my face, my throat growing thick. “You’re...” I struggled against the lump of shame. “You’re right ... and I’m sorry.” I glanced at my tennis shoes, willing my feet to move toward him. But his closed-off stance gave me pause and made it impossible to pull in a normal lungful of air. “It’s difficult for me to be vulnerable in that way.”
“I know.” He sighed. “It’s hard not to let your past control your present.” An almost imperceptible shake of his head followed, and his tone lowered. “And I think you have that happening in more ways than just Ryan.”
That pulled me up short. “What do you mean?”
The tendons in his forearms flexed with his hold on the railing, and his eyes slid shut, his head bowing. Was he praying? Straightening, he drew in a deep breath and released it, then trained his gentle gaze on me. “I think your past with Claire is affecting you too.”
I gaped. Had we been on a daytime talk show, the audience would have gasped, and possibly thrown in an oh no he didn’t .
His hands shot up. “Please, hear me out. I’m speaking from experience. And concern.”
Unable to meet his earnest stare, my attention slunk to the black-and-gold Saints logo on his T-shirt.
“You’re so bound to that plan hanging on the wall in your office. And the Vieux Carré Café. They keep Claire involved. And believe me, I get it.” He splayed his fingers across his chest. “I went through that with my mom.”
My heart clenched, and I mustered the strength to focus on him again.
“When I’d graduated high school, the last thing I wanted was to move away. But that’s what I’d talked about with her, all through her treatments. The University of Colorado had been her alma mater. And so I went. I wasn’t happy, but I stuck it out because of her. Because of this ... sense of duty.”
Sense of duty. Oh, how his words pierced my soul, ringing true to what I’d felt for decades. To Mawmaw and later Claire.
“On graduation day, I realized that wasn’t what she would’ve wanted for me. Sticking out life for the sake of conversations we’d had when I was only a kid in junior high. It was a bitter pill to swallow.” He slid his hands into the pockets of his basketball shorts. “I’d hate for you to get through the goals you’d made with Claire and regret what you gave up to achieve them.”
Heaviness bled into my bones. I pushed my damp bangs away and rubbed the Crease. Hadn’t Julia mentioned something similar before? Or maybe not. These unexpected revelations and twists in our conversation had left my mind mushy, with too much to process. I screwed my eyes shut.
“It’s just something to consider. Something I felt led to share.” His warm fingers brushed against my face, tucking the hair that had escaped my ponytail behind my ear. His touch lingered.
I leaned into his affection, opening my eyes and taking him in. I’d been wrong to hold back my heart with him. Had I also been mistaken to take his boss’s words as valid? Especially when they didn’t match the person I knew Micah to be?
On the other side of the street, a lady wearing neon-pink knee socks walked a German shepherd. The dog sniffed at Mardi Gras beads lying in the gutter and continued on.
Micah’s other hand lifted, his thumb brushing my cheek. “Do you believe me about Regina? That it’s not as it appears?”
I fought against a tremor in my voice, in my heart. “I want to.”
Something akin to determination lit in his eyes, and he gave a slight nod.
“There’s one other thing I want to talk about. Your dad.”
That spark in his gaze dimmed, his caress slipping away. He retreated to his seat.
“You never want to talk about him.” I retrieved my hat and sunglasses from the chair I’d placed them on, lowering next to him. “And you don’t want me helping with him.”
He ran his palms down his thighs. “Your time has been stretched so thin, I didn’t want to take what’s left away from Hayley.”
Well, that sucked the wind right out of my sails. “I’m sorry about how busy I’ve been.”
He gave a dismissive wave. “You’d warned me about that, remember? And other than taking up more time, I haven’t wanted my dad’s situation put on you.”
I fidgeted with the brim of my hat. “You spoke from experience before, with your mom. Now it’s my turn.” That earlier swirling in my belly returned. “I’m going to have to be involved with your dad. You’re going to need support. At the very least, emotionally ... and at some point, physically.”
His gaze turned toward me, uncertainty coating his features. “And if it’s too much for you?”
“I don’t think it will be.” And I’d continue praying it wouldn’t. “Besides, I believe there’s a little line in the Bible, instructing us not to worry about tomorrow.” There were also lots of proverbs about being foolish. I could only hope I wouldn’t fall into that category again when it came to trust and falling in love.