Chapter 8
eight
Charlie
U ncle Holden laced his hands behind his head, doing a terrible job of masking his emotions. After what I’d just told him, I should’ve been a wreck. But finally getting it off my chest lifted some of the weight from my shoulders.
I rubbed my earlobe. “Can you say something, please?”
My blond uncle was normally chill, the one who put us all at ease. As the District Attorney of Seddledowne, he’d witnessed such atrocities that hardly anything ruffled him.
His eyes glazed over as he looked through me, his jaw clenched. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
I stared at the ground and hugged myself. “I dunno…Pride, I guess. I left Hawaii with Lorne after you all told me not to, and tried to make that terrible marriage work. I didn’t want you to say I told you so.” I ran a hand over my forehead. “If you think I don’t regret it every single day, you’re wrong. I was about to call…one of you…see if I could get a loan to come home…when it happened. Everything just compounded after that and I felt like maybe I deserved what went down.” I tucked my bangs behind my ears. “Like maybe God was punishing me?—”
He squeezed my shoulder so hard, I had to look up. “God doesn’t work that way and neither do we. You didn’t deserve that. Good grief , girl.” He jerked me against him and hugged me so tight it was hard to breathe. In the past twenty-four hours, I’d been hugged more than I had in the last three years.
I’d told myself I didn’t need affection, but now that there was a plethora of it, I knew that was a lie. I needed to be held and to hold them all right back, the same way I needed oxygen. I’d been stupid to stay away from my family. I’d imagined the worst-case scenario, playing out their reactions when they finally saw me again. Not one of them had proved me right.
It was way more than I deserved.
Uncle Holden squatted down to look me in the eye. “If we can’t find your douchebag ex, this might take a while. It would be better if we could get his signature on the divorce papers. That would make quick work of the whole thing. But Charlie?” One of his eyebrows was halfway to his hairline. “You should sue him for damages. I don’t tell people to sue very often. But you should.”
I shook my head. “No. I want to be done with him. I never want to see his face again.”
“He shouldn’t get away with that. He owes you money, at the very least. An apology, to make restitution, to own up to his mistakes.”
“I just want the divorce. How long will it take?”
He sighed. “Did you establish residency in California?”
“No, I moved there…after. Lorne and I never stayed anywhere more than six months. PEI, Ontario, then to Sioux Falls, Billings, Pocatello, Salt Lake, and finally Vegas. Lorne is a wanderer. A vagabond .” I wiggled my fingers to show what I thought of that fancy term.
It had sounded so cool when I met him. Like a grand adventure. But I’d quickly found out it meant living in poverty. Having nothing but the clothes on your back. Literally. Nowhere to lay your head at night, barely enough food to stay alive. The excitement had worn off after two months. I’d begged him to let us settle down somewhere but he wouldn’t.
“That actually works in your favor,” Holden said. “If you’d changed your legal residence, you’d have to live here for six months—planning to stay—before we could even file. But since you haven’t, we can move forward. We’ll still have to try and serve him, though. Where do you think he is?”
“Hiding somewhere in hopes I never find his sorry behind.” I pressed my fingertips to my mouth, thinking. “Mexico, maybe? Sometimes he talked about going to Cabo.”
“What about his parents? Could he be staying with them?”
“His mom passed away when he was little. His dad and stepmom live in Nova Scotia. But good luck getting their help. I already tried. They don’t want anything to do with him.” Which, according to Lorne, was pretty much how they parented—and let me tell you, it showed.
Holden rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, we have to give it an honest effort. And then, if we still can’t find him, we have to run a notice in a court-approved newspaper for four consecutive weeks. He has fifty days to respond. If he doesn’t, we can file for a default divorce.” He exhaled loudly. “It could take eight to twelve months, best-case scenario.”
The thought of being Mrs. Lorne Green for another year made me want to toss the protein bar Aunt Peyton had shoved at me as I walked out the door.
I rubbed my temples. “And if by some miracle we can locate him? How long then?”
“You’ve already been separated for well over six months. So, if he showed up on your doorstep and signed the papers, no contest? A couple of weeks.”
I snorted. “He wouldn’t dare.”
“Charlie,” Holden started—but then his mouth clamped.
“Just say it.”
“What were…no.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “ Why did you marry that guy?”
“Ah, yes, the question for the ages. Right up there with ‘What happens when we die?’ and ‘Why do McDonald’s ice cream machines never work?’”
He scowled at my playful answer.
I blew a raspberry and glanced at the barn where Cash was slaving away to help me. “Don’t worry, Uncle Holden. Lesson learned. I won’t mess up anyone else’s life.”
His head snapped back and his frown deepened, even more displeased than before. “What does that mean?”
A montage of me and Cash played through my mind. The Hawaii Kiss, his songs for me, his arms around me this morning, and a thousand memories from high school that, looking back, were all filled with his love. I just hadn’t known it.
Then, I snapped the metaphorical rubber band. Because I was not wife material. Not for Cash anyway. Not anymore.
I looked back at my uncle, full of resolve. “It means I’m never getting married again.”
He looked taken aback. “You’re too young to be jaded like that.” He thought for a few seconds and let out a small sigh. “You know I had a stalker, right? A long time ago?”
I nodded. “I’ve seen the scar on Aunt Christy’s arm.”
Holden’s stalker had tried to run the two of them over with her car. Thankfully, they came out alive, with only Christy getting a compound fracture. The psycho lady wound up with nearly a life sentence in prison.
Our parents never let us forget. They wanted to make sure we all knew what stalker behavior looked like and what to do if it happened to us. Being related to so many famous people made anyone with the last names Dupree or Bishop easy targets.
Holden ran a hand over his jaw. “Every time I tried to have a relationship, she messed it up somehow. Usually in such subtle ways that I couldn’t prove it. But I knew it was her. And no matter what I did, I couldn’t shake her loose.” He shifted his feet. “I used to think the same thing as you. Thought I was better off alone and that I didn’t deserve to love someone and have them love me back. But now? I wake up every day and thank God, literally, that Christy took a chance on me.”
My answer was immediate. “Because you deserved it. You’re a really good person.”
His response was just as immediate. “So are you. You deserve it as much as I do. As much as any of us. Why don’t you know that?”
I covered my eyes with my hands so he couldn’t see that they were welling. I couldn’t tell him the truth. Could hardly admit it to myself. I took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm the ache.
“Hey,” Cash called. The tips of my ears heated at his deep voice. We looked over to see him leaning against the barn. “Everything’s done. I’ll wait for you in the car.”
I watched him walk away, breathing through the pain. Then I looked at my uncle. “You’re not going to tell anyone , right?
Holden’s eyes flashed from Cash to me. “No. I told you I won’t.” His head tilted and his expression was pleading, like it might kill him to keep that promise. “But you should.”