10. Chapter 10
”Sam,” I hear Loren”s voice as I leave the garage.
When I reach Laila, she puts her palm up as a warning to let her handle it.
I put my palms up in surrender and mouth an ”okay” before crossing my arms. I can feel my jaw clenching as I watch Laila using her last thread of patience on Eric.
”I”m sorry,” she says into the phone. ”I”m sorry that you”re hurt, that you feel I used you, and that you”re angry.”
She stops talking and listens for a few seconds before continuing.
”Those are all valid feelings,” she says, ”but I can”t help you work through them because the only answer for you is for us to get back together. That”s not going to happen.”
A few seconds tick by. I can hear Eric”s voice rising from where I stand.
”Eric, if you need someone to talk to, my dad is always—.”
He cuts her off before she can finish talking. His tone is loud and aggressive.
”That”s enough,” I say and reach for the phone.
She doesn”t say anything but takes a step back and, with one determined glare that doesn”t need words, says, ”Stop.”
”I”m going to hang up now, Eric. I”m sorry I have to do this.”
With that, she ends the call.
”I”m glad we”re leaving Cold Spring,” she says, putting her phone in her back pocket. ”I think distance might help both of us.”
”He”s out of control,” I say. ”Are you okay?”
She looks at me, her green eyes full of concern.
”He was fine when we spoke on Sunday,” she says. ”He was calm and accepting. When he walked away, I thought that was the end of it.”
”He wasn”t counting on me coming back the next day,” I say. ”and worse yet, he probably isn”t expecting you to be leaving with me.”
She walks towards me and puts her arms around me when I hug her.
”Laila, you”re shaking.”
”He was so mad,” she says. ”He never talked to me like that before.”
I hold her close until I feel her relax. A few moments later, Loren, Aaron, and Holly walk into the living room.
”Is everything okay?” Aaron asks, looking from me to Laila and back to me. Our instinct to protect is palpable.
”Yes,” says Laila. ”I think Eric should talk to someone.”
”I can call him,” says Aaron.
”You wouldn”t mind?” Laila asks.
”No, not at all.”
”Thank you,” says Laila. ”We should get going, but we”ll see you all tomorrow.”
”Yes,” says Loren, smiling. ”I can”t wait to see what you make us for dinner.”
”Mommy”s going to do my hair in the morning,” Holly says, ”and I”m going to wear the barrette you gave me, Sammy.”
”That”ll be great,” I say. ”I can”t wait to see it.” Holly”s sweet, innocent voice is like a healing balm for my frayed nerves.
Hugs and kisses are exchanged before we leave. When Aaron shakes my hand, an unspoken order is passed between us: ”Take care of her,” it says. I receive the message loud and clear.
Once we”re outside, I put my arm around Laila, and we walk across the lawn to my temporary home next door.
When I put the key in the lock, I glance at Laila and see that she”s crying.
”Laila,” I say. ”Hey, hey. It”s going to be okay.”
”That was terrible,” she says.
I lock the door behind us and put my arms around her.
”Should we be concerned about Eric or his behavior?” I ask.
”No,” she says, wiping away tears with her sleeve. ”He just needs time to process everything. I know him, and he would never hurt me or himself.”
She walks into the kitchen and opens the refrigerator. ”Do you want some water?” she asks. When she turns around, I see another tear streaming down her face.
”No,” I say. ”Come here.”
She puts a bottle of water on the counter and walks over to me, letting me wrap my arms around her again.
”I just feel bad,” she says, tilting her head back so she can look at me. ”I wish I could love him the way he loves me, but I can”t.”
”Why can”t you?” I ask. ”You were with him for two years. Everyone says he”s a great guy, a good man.”
”That special spark is missing,” she says, walking to the couch.
When she sits, she pats a spot next to her, inviting me to join her.
”What does that look like?” I ask, sitting next to her.
”What?” she asks. ”The spark?”
”Yeah, what exactly are you looking for?”
”That”s just it,” she says. ”I don”t know.”
She inches over on the couch until she”s close enough for me to put my arm around her. I do.
”You”ve never been in love?” I ask.
”Have you?” she asks.
”Yes,” I say. ”Twice.”
”Tell me about them,” she says.
”You first.”
”I”ve had two boyfriends,” she says, ”but I wasn”t in love with either one.”
”Eric, and who else?” I ask.
”His name is Brian,” she begins. ”We met in college and dated for two years. He”s from Florida. Our feelings for each other were strong, but our family ties back home were stronger. Neither of us was willing to move so we could be together. That”s when I knew I wasn”t in love. I couldn”t see myself moving for him.”
”You never mentioned him. Do you two keep in touch?”
”We did until he started dating someone else. They got married two years ago.”
”Did she move to Florida to be with him?” I ask.
”No,” she says. ”He moved to Montana to be with her.”
”Did that hurt you?” I ask. ”The fact that he was willing to move for his now wife but not for you?”
”I didn”t make him choose, nor did he ever ask me if I would leave Cold Spring, but we knew. We broke up before it ever became an issue.”
”What about Eric?” I ask. ”He lives here.”
”He fell,” she says. ”I didn”t. As much as I tried, something was missing. He told me he was in love with me, and I couldn”t say it back. Enough about me. It”s your turn.”
”I met Patricia in the seventh grade. We were high school sweethearts. We dated for four years. I wanted a career, a house, a white picket fence, and a family that included children. She wanted the same things, except the kids. She broke up with me when I told her I wanted to marry her.”
”I”m sorry,” she says. ”You loved her enough to marry her?”
”I proposed. She turned me down.”
”Wow, that”s heavy. I”m so sorry.”
”It was a long time ago. I got over it.”
”You said twice. What happened with the other one?”
”I never told her how I felt,” I say.
”What?” she asks, craning her neck to look at me. ”She never knew?”
”Nope,” I say. ”The timing was all wrong, and I was a coward. I left town. End of story.”
She”s looking at me now. Her eyes are as beautiful as they are expressive. She feels sorry for me.
”Don”t feel sorry for me,” I say.
”That”s really sad, Sam. She never knew. Where is she now?”
How I wish I could tell her.
When her phone rings, I feel relief on one hand because it ends our conversation and dread on the other because it might be Eric.
”It”s Aaron,” she says, showing me the caller ID. ”Hi, Aaron. You did? How did it go?”
She”s close enough that I can almost make out Aaron”s side of the conversation. They talk for a few more minutes, then Laila says goodbye and ends the call.
She”s smiling, so it must be good news.
”Aaron and Adam are having lunch with Eric on Saturday. I hope he listens to their advice.”
”I hope so, too,” I say, feeling her relax next to me.
”Should we make something for dinner?” she asks.
”We can grill some steaks,” I say, ”and make a salad?”
”That sounds good,” she says.
I fire up the grill and hand Laila my laptop so she can look up Emma”s wedding registry.
”Look in my inbox,” I say. ”There should be an e-mail from Emma with a link to her registry.”
Laila takes the laptop and makes herself comfortable on the porch swing.
”Do you still like your steak medium-rare?” I ask, flipping the thick steaks over after five minutes.
”Yes,” she says. ”What”s your password?”
”Pachelbel.” I say.
”What?” she asks. ”I never knew you liked classical music.”
”Well,” I say, ”I don”t know that I like it, but I can play it on piano.”
”Sam, you never cease to amaze me.”
Is that admiration I see in her eyes?
”I found the link,” she says. ”Let”s see. Oh, there”s an outdoor pizza oven on their registry. That”s what I would want.”
”Okay,” I say, ”let”s go with that.”
”Done!” she says, clicking the buy it now icon. ”The gift will be exquisitely wrapped and shipped to your sister”s home address tomorrow, and it”ll arrive no later than Monday.”
”I also had a set of personalized coffee mugs made at the studio. Zoe is shipping them on Monday.”
”Wow!” Laila says. ”That”s impressive. Who painted them?”
”Luis invited a couple of his friends to the studio and had them do it in exchange for two coupons each for a free ceramic project to be used at their leisure.”
”You”re a genius,” she says, smiling. ”So, what did you put on the mugs?”
”I freehanded the letter ”P” for Parker, framed it with roses on the top, Emma”s favorite flower, and the wedding date on the bottom. Their names are on the inside rim of each cup.
”I can”t wait to see them,” she says. ”I”m excited to meet your family.”
”They can”t wait to meet you either,” I say.
When I look up at her, she”s focused on the laptop.
”What is it?” I ask.
”Um, there are at least a dozen emails in here from someone named Tricia Duncan,” she says.
She”s not making the connection between Patricia and Tricia.
”She”s one of the reunion coordinators,” I say. ”Emma told me she”s been trying to reach me for weeks to get my RSVP for the reunion, which is in three weeks.”
”Am I your date for that, too?” she asks, smiling. ”Because you haven”t asked me.”
”Laila Marie Linder,” I say, ”would you like to accompany me to my high school reunion?”
”I would love to,” she says.
Once the steaks are ready, we head back inside and start prepping a simple salad of lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, and croutons.
”Do you want to listen to some music?” Layla asks, walking to the stereo system.
We both start laughing when, as if on cue, the acoustic version of Layla comes on.
”Whenever I hear this song, I think of Eric,” she says.
”Why?” I ask, feeling a quick pang of jealousy.
”He always told me he and I were meant to be because his name is Eric, and my name is Laila.”
”Well, isn”t that special?” I ask, my tone drenched in sarcasm.
”You sound a little jealous,” she says.
”Let me give you a different memory to connect to this song.”
”Ooh,” she says, raising an eyebrow, ”that sounds promising.
I offer her my hand.
She smiles and takes it. I give her a quick twirl and pull her in, putting my other hand on the small of her back.
I smile down at her as we start moving together in a slow dance. She rests her head on my shoulder, and I feel her take a deep breath, surrendering herself to my embrace.
”The food is going to get cold,” she says but makes no attempt to stop dancing.
When she tilts her head back to look at me, I realize how much I want to kiss her.
”Do it,” she says.
”You”re a mind reader now?” I ask.
”So, you do want to kiss me!” she says.
”If I kiss you, our friendship will get complicated. I live thousands of miles away, and you”re starting a new chapter in your life. I don”t want to be a distraction.”
”It”s only a kiss,” she says.
”Really?” I say, ”It”s only a kiss?”
I raise my hand and rest it in the crook of her neck. She leans into it and closes her eyes, inviting me to kiss her.
I lean down and kiss her forehead.
”You missed,” she says, touching her bottom lip. ”X marks the spot.”
”You”re killing me, Laila.”
”And you”re teasing me,” she counters.