Chapter 7
Still Haunting Me
Justin
Mia was here, standing on the front walkway.
My body felt like when I’d punched Alek, only this time the pain was everywhere, not just in my hand.
Long moments passed and I wasn’t behaving normally.
Or even like a baseline human. She was the focus of my attention, and everything outside of her was fuzzy and muted.
It had been eleven years since I’d seen her, but I could have picked her out of a lineup without question. Despite that, she was different, which surprised me. Eleven years made changes to a person, had shaped me, but in my head, not her. Like she’d been in some kind of magic bubble.
Her hair was shorter, not falling in waves down her shoulders and back.
She’d pulled it back in a ponytail, strands around her face, the rich brown more muted.
Her features were the same, but there were shadows under her eyes, and lines around both her hazel eyes and mouth.
She looked tired. More, she looked exhausted.
She was wearing scrubs, wrinkled and dirty, so she must have finished a shift at the hospital. Guess she’d gotten her medical degree after all. She was driving a shitbox car, but she’d have student loans to pay off so that tracked. She watched me with wide eyes. Why was she here?
I drew in a breath. “Mia.”
She swallowed, pulled her shoulders back. “Cora heard you were here and staying for a while. I thought it would be better to get that awkward first encounter over with. I didn’t want us to bump into each other accidentally, with people watching.”
“Right.” While I felt the earth rocking, she wanted to make sure there was no public embarrassment.
What the fuck had I expected? I’d known I needed to face her.
I’d just hoped to put it off for a while so I could prepare.
I certainly hadn’t expected that I’d be knocked sideways by seeing her again.
Her eyes flickered to the neighbor’s. The old woman in the blue house had always been a gossip. I didn’t know if she was still alive, but whatever we had to say, it should be done away from prying eyes. I turned back to the door and headed inside.
I didn’t hear footsteps. I turned. “You coming?”
She pressed her lips together, then nodded.
I didn’t need to show her the way. She’d been here often. Maybe she’d been around after I left. Grandma had always liked Mia.
I was too restless and unsettled to sit in the living room, so I leaned on the wall on the far side.
I didn’t know what to do with my arms. With the cast on one and the bandage on the other I couldn’t put them in my pockets, so I finally crossed them.
I probably looked angry, but if I left them twitching, she’d know how affected I was.
Mia stopped in front of the couch. After an awkward pause Fitch appeared in the doorway. He turned to Mia. His brows shot up. “Hello…?”
I opened my mouth, but she spoke first. “Mia. Mia Bailey.”
Her voice was different too. Clipped, aloof, nothing like when we’d been together. Neither the soft and warm tone I was used to, nor the loud, angry and sharp words of that last fight.
Fitch smiled, and a jab of pain shot up from the fists I was clenching. “Nice to meet you, Mia. Did you care for JJ’s grandmother?”
She looked down at her scrubs. ‘Oh, no. Nothing official. I helped out a bit, but just as a friend.” She turned her attention back to me. “I was very sorry to hear about her passing. She was an amazing woman.”
“Thank you.” Did I sound right? Fitch shot me a glance, so maybe not.
“Can I offer you something?” He at least was functioning like a normal person.
“No thanks. I just…” Mia swallowed again and crossed her arms. She must be as uncomfortable as I was. “I heard that Justin was back and possibly staying for a while. I wanted to make sure we didn’t run into each other the first time by surprise.”
Fitch turned to look at me, brows raised again.
I shrugged. “One of the ghosts.”
His eyebrows flew up.
Mia frowned. She didn’t want a surprise meeting, but her showing up out of the blue after eleven years had shocked me. I’d maintained enough sense to have her come in where the neighbors didn’t need to see me acting like a zombie, but that might be all I was capable of.
I scrubbed my face with the back of my left hand and shook my head to wake myself up. “Um, do you want to sit down?”
She considered for a moment, then perched on the edge of the couch. “I don’t plan on staying. But considering our past, and that people around here know it so well, I wanted us to be prepared.”
I thought I had been. I’d discussed with my therapist that I should talk to her while I was back in PoCo, make my apologies. But somehow when she showed up I was anything but ready. I needed to get myself together.
“I’ll be here for a few weeks.” There had been reasons to come. Clearing things up with my parents was supposed to be the biggest issue—parents usually were, right? But the way my emotions were pinging around now, it was obvious I had to deal with what had happened with Mia.
I wasn’t ready.
“I’m gone in a couple of days,” Fitch added, more to fill in the silence than anything else.
Mia nodded. She clasped her hands together. “Depending on your plans, Justin—” Her voice caught over my name. “You’ve been gone more than ten years, but people in the neighborhood haven’t forgotten that we…”
I hadn’t been back precisely because of that.
“Anyway, it’s unlikely that we will run into each other. I’m busy with work, and you probably aren’t going to be grocery shopping. But if we do find ourselves at the same place, maybe it won’t be so awkward.” Her gaze settled on the fireplace, avoiding me.
“Unless I see you when I’m getting this off.” I lifted my hand with the cast and she shot a glance at it, then back to the fireplace. “Where are you practicing?”
She flinched. “Um, I’m not a doctor. I’m a private nurse. Kind of. More a PSW, personal support worker. For a private company. Um, so no, you won’t see me.”
The scrubs she was wearing had a logo on the top. Caring Hands Home Care. She was looking at the floor now.
“You didn’t get your medical degree?” That had been important to her. She’d known it would be difficult, with her family situation, but she’d planned for that.
Her lips tightened. “No.”
“What happened?” It wasn’t my business, not anymore, but it had to be something big to have stopped her.
Her hands clenched, then released. “It’s not a secret. Bruce got a DUI, so…”
Her stepfather was a long-distance trucker. A DUI meant he couldn’t drive. “What’s he doing for work?”
She shrugged. “Nothing.”
Now it was my fists trying to clench, again, pain reminding me I had to stop doing that while they were injured. Bruce doing nothing meant Mia was supporting her family. She’d given up her dreams to take care of them. Much like I had.
I shoved the memories of that last argument aside. It didn’t matter now who was right, if either of us had been.
Fitch looked between us but didn’t ask questions. “I’m going to go get…” His voice trailed off as he left the room.
Mia drew in a long breath and looked up at me. “I’m sorry about what happened with your marriage. You didn’t deserve that.”
I nodded. The pain of that time had long passed. And truthfully, it was the constant scrutiny of the media that caused the worst of it, the loss of privacy more than the loss of Sharleen. Not wanting to discuss it, I said, “I heard you got married too?”
Jess had mentioned it. I wasn’t sure who told her, but she’d wanted to warn me. It was almost the only information I’d heard about Mia in the last eleven years. I hadn’t let anyone talk about her around me. Avoidance for the win.
She looked away. “I was. Divorced now.”
“I’m sorry.” Even without the publicity shitstorm I had attached to mine, divorce wasn’t fun.
The corner of her mouth tilted up. “But I got my son, Arne. So it wasn’t a total loss.”
Another pang, but not from my hands. Mia, with a kid. Not mine. Sharleen and I had never discussed having a family. Just as well, considering all that happened. But I still wanted that. Someday.
“Good.” Was that the right thing to say? I had no idea. I uncrossed my arms then crossed them again, since I couldn’t think of anything else to do with them.
The silence stretched. What should I say? Ask if she was okay? If I could help? If she regretted what happened to us? My skin felt stretched, tight. Her presence was stirring up old feelings, things I’d kept locked down. Exactly why I’d come back, to deal with those.
She stood up. Looking near, but not directly at me, she said, “I should go. I just wanted to get the first meeting over with.”
“Yeah.” If I didn’t say something now, I’d have to talk to her again. Try to get closure, whatever the fuck that was for the two of us. But I wasn’t ready, and I had no idea what to say.
“Like I said, we probably won’t see each other again. I’m busy with work and Arne and the family, so…”
“Yeah,” I repeated. I should tell her I still needed to get over the past, and that she was a big part of it, if I was going to be able to move forward and focus on hockey. The words stuck in my throat.
“Well, thanks for talking to me. I hope you have a good life.”
She walked out of the living room while I stood there, arms still crossed. My brain was skipping between the way she used to be, the way she was now, the fight, and the confusing mix of emotions that skipping back and forth was causing.
I followed her to the door, watched as she headed down the walkway. She looked back for a moment at the car door and I waved my cast, like an idiot. Then she got in and drove away.
Fitch came up behind me. “So that’s a ghost, is it?”
I didn’t want to talk about it, but Fitch had come here with me and put up with my moody ass. “Maybe the biggest one.”
I headed for the kitchen, getting a drink for something to do.
Fitch followed me. “How long did you two go out?”
“Three years.”
I took the water pitcher out of the fridge, carefully using my left hand. His forehead creased and his eyes narrowed. “This was before you went to New York, right?”
I nodded and reached for a glass.
“You were pretty young.”
I shrugged and took a long drink.
“I assume it wasn’t a good breakup. I don’t want to pry. But if you want to talk…”
I leaned back against the counter. I didn’t want to talk, but it was not-talking that got me in trouble. “It was just after the Denbrowski Ponzi thing.”
He tilted his head.
I repeated the details—scholarship, Mia’s family, lost our money, went to New York.
“No wonder you punched Alek.”
That surprised a laugh out of me. “It was satisfying. But the consequences? Not worth it. I let the team down.”
“It wasn’t our year. Ducky, you, Cooper—even if we’d had you, I don’t think we could have gotten over losing our captain.”
We’d never know. But I was damn sure we wouldn’t have been swept in the first round.
“Is the ghost laid to rest now?” Fitch asked.
“I wish.” It would be nice to think so, but the way my brain was racing and my hands sweating, this one was still haunting me.