20. Taylor
CHAPTER 20
TAYLOR
S omething had definitely happened at the hardware store — it was impossible to miss. Taylor waited for Kane to explain what it was. He hadn’t said anything when he’d come home and told her she would need to go back for the paint — he’d gone to his bedroom and taken refuge, and even when she had brought the paint home and come knocking on his door to check in, he hadn’t said anything about it. He hadn’t even answered her.
She’d decided to let it lie, assuming they would discuss it over dinner. But now the stir fry was ready and the drinks were poured, and he still hadn’t come out of his room.
There was no way he didn’t know. They ate dinner at the same time every evening. And besides, the house was full of the smell of stir fry. He couldn’t have missed it.
Taylor was frustrated. It was beginning to seem as though he was deliberately avoiding her. If there was a problem, she would have expected him to say something, especially given how close they had gotten over the past few weeks. It was beginning to feel as though they could talk to one another about anything — so what was behind this sudden distance? She didn’t know how to explain it.
Well, she wasn’t going to let him get away with lingering in his room and refusing to speak to her. They were better than that. She went to the door and knocked.
At first, there was no answer, and she believed that he might actually refuse to see her altogether. It made her feel as if the floor had dropped out from underneath her. What could she possibly have done to warrant that sort of treatment? She’d been nothing but warm to him, and she knew perfectly well she hadn’t needed to be.
She was about to knock on the door again, to simply demand that he get over his nonsense and talk to her about whatever this was, when she heard his voice. “Come in,” he said.
She opened the door. Kane was sitting on his bed, looking at his hands. He didn’t look up at her when she came in, and the smile he’d worn for the last few weeks was gone. Something had happened, all right.
“Dinner’s ready,” she told him. “Are you coming?”
“I’m not very hungry.”
“Did you eat already?”
Now he looked up at her. “Don’t worry about it, Taylor,” he said. “I can handle myself.”
“I’m aware of that,” she said, feeling stung.
“You’re always trying to take care of me. Always worrying about me, trying to help me…”
“That offends you?”
“You don’t need to do it, that’s all. Maybe you shouldn’t be doing it.”
Was he feeling unworthy of her help? She took a step into the room and held out a hand. “Come to dinner,” she said gently. “It’s stir fry.”
“I know what it is. I can smell it.”
“Even if you’re not hungry, we can hang out and talk,” she suggested. “I got a lot done today — I don’t know about you. And maybe when dinner is over we could watch a movie or something…” She allowed a suggestive note to creep into her voice.
But he shook his head. “I don’t think we should do that anymore.”
“Do what? Watch movies?”
He sighed. “We’ve gotten too close to each other, Taylor.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you know I’m going to be leaving soon,” he said. “We shouldn’t be acting like this is something that’s going to last.”
“I— I wasn’t aware that we were acting like that,” Taylor said. “I’ve been spending time with you because I enjoy it, not because I have any expectations.”
“Well, that’s what people say, but then it turns out they do have expectations.”
“Do you think you know me better than I know myself?” She felt frustrated.
“I think you might not want to tell me the truth about everything you’re thinking,” he said.
“So now I’m lying to you?”
“Look, this was always going to be a temporary thing,” he said, getting to his feet. “It’s probably for the best if we just call it a day on it right now.”
“You’re not leaving right now.”
“Maybe I should,” he said.
Taylor frowned. “What are you talking about? We’re about to have the farmers market. All our hard work is about to pay off — and you want to leave? God, what did I do to you?”
“You didn’t do anything.”
“Well, I must have done something.”
“It’s not about you, Taylor.”
“I’m not stupid,” she said. “You’re not leaving because you suddenly decided that raising funds for the Chesterfields isn’t a good idea. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I’d be an idiot not to realize that it has something to do with me. I’ve done something to piss you off. I just don’t know what it is. But what I do know is that you’re being completely unreasonable. I haven’t done anything that would warrant you walking away like this.”
“I have a life to get back to,” he said quietly. “We both always knew that.”
“Oh, okay, and it’s that simple? You’re just leaving because you want to get back to your life? Nothing to do with anything that’s been going on here?”
“That’s what I said.”
“Well, that’s even worse. You don’t understand why that’s worse?” she asked. “If you were leaving because you were upset about something, I could understand it, at least. I know what it’s like to be so overwhelmed by your emotions that you just have to step away from what’s going on. But you’re saying that isn’t it. You’re telling me you’re leaving because you’ve just decided now is the time. Now, right before the farmers market you’ve worked so hard on is about to open — and for no other reason than that you’re just ready to go .”
Kane looked away from her. “It’s going to be hard no matter when I go,” he said. “We should get it over with.”
“I honestly don’t know why I expected anything else,” Taylor said bitterly. “I let myself think you were different now, but you’re not, are you? You’re the same person you’ve always been — running away from anything even the slightest bit difficult. You don’t want to face everyone. I bet that’s it. You’ve done so well at all this, but now you’re chickening out in the eleventh hour, and I’m the only idiot here, because I thought you had changed. I should have known better.”
“I guess you’re right,” Kane said, his voice tight.
“I’m right?”
“Yeah. I’m too weak and selfish to face up to the past. That’s what you want to hear me say, isn’t it? After all this time, after all the work I put in and all the work I let you put in for me, I was too gutless to see it through. Go ahead, say it.”
“Sounds like I don’t need to,” Taylor whispered. “Sounds like you already know.”
She stood there for a moment longer, wondering whether more words would come, or whether he’d find something else to say. But neither one of them spoke, and after a moment Taylor was forced to acknowledge the fact that the conversation was over. As ugly a note as it had ended on, there wasn’t going to be more. There wasn’t going to be resolution, or a moment where they looked at one another and realized mutually how unnecessary all this was, how hurtful they were being.
And suddenly, she couldn’t stand to be in this room with him for another moment.
She turned and hurried away, back to her own bedroom, and closed the door, feeling foolish and embarrassed for needing to hide inside her own house. But he would be gone soon enough.
How strange — how terrible — that she was using that thought to comfort herself. She had always thought she would hate the moment Kane left, but right now she felt as though it couldn’t come soon enough for her. She couldn’t relax in this house with him here. It was as if he was constantly looking over her shoulder, judging her.
Judging me because he knows that I feel something for him, and he’s never felt anything for me.
She didn’t know if that was true. Did he really feel nothing at all? Was it even possible to be as close as they had over the past few weeks and feel nothing ?
She wouldn’t have believed it if she hadn’t seen him just now. So cold, so detached… There was nothing in him that seemed to regret the fact that he was leaving. No indication that he would miss her, miss it here. It seemed to Taylor that she had had no impact on him at all. He probably wouldn’t even remember her when he went back to Detroit.
I misjudged him, she thought, her heart sinking. I thought he spent all those years away longing to come back but feeling afraid to… but that’s only what I wanted to believe. The truth was that he let me believe that, probably because it was easier than admitting to the fact that he has never cared about anything or anyone in this town.
She clung to that idea. She wanted to believe it was true. It would be easier to hate Kane right now than to admit to the feelings she knew were still there.
But even though the idea was appealing, she couldn’t hate him. She couldn’t forget how it had felt to hold him in her arms, or to work side by side with him. She couldn’t forget the happiness she had felt at the idea that he might care about her the way she cared about him.
He was right that they had both known it wasn’t going to last forever. But she hadn’t imagined it would end like this. Even when she had allowed that thoughts of their parting to come to her, she had assumed it was something they would both be at least mildly sad about.
Instead, he didn’t seem to give a damn.
Taylor thought about the stir fry on the dining room table. She ought to go back, pack it up so that it wouldn’t go bad. That would be the responsible thing to do.
But why do I always have to be responsible? Look at what Kane is doing — skipping town when people need him again, just like he always does. He certainly didn’t care about living up to his responsibilities. Taylor was tired of being the responsible one all the time.
She couldn’t pull out of the farmers market, though — she knew that. No matter how much it bothered her to think of having to see it through without Kane, she couldn’t do it to the Chesterfields, who had been screwed over so many times and had done nothing to deserve it. She’d have to go through with this, even though Kane had let everybody down.
She let out a sigh and laid down on her bed.
It was all her fault, really. She was the one who’d decided to trust him, and she should have known better. He had shown her years ago who he was. People didn’t change. Not that much.