Chapter 23 Holden
Twenty-Three
Holden
I paced the hallway outside the Whitmores’ bedroom until River came out, shutting the door quietly behind him.
I whirled on him. “Why did you do that?”
“You know why.”
I stared, the Alaskan cold chewing up and spitting out the warmth I’d had from being in Nancy Whitmore’s presence for only a few minutes.
“Jesus, River, you bring me into that room? With your mom? It’s…”
“Sacred?” he shot back. “Yeah, it is. That’s the point. I shared some of her last moments with you because I love you, you moron. Don’t you get it?”
I love you too. I love you so much.
I wanted to scream it so loud that the whispering voices were drowned in it. But they were louder and their breath so damn cold.
You can’t have him. You’ll ruin him like you do everything else. You almost did already.
“If I hadn’t shown up at the dance, you wouldn’t have followed me,” I said, choking back tears. “I nearly killed you.”
“I was already killing myself. Suffocating. I chased you down because you’re it for me. You’re what I want. I’d do it a thousand times over again if I had to. And I brought you here because…” Tears filled his eyes. “I needed my mom to know that I knew what love was. That I’d felt it too.”
I shook my head. “I ruin everything I touch. You can’t love me—”
“I can and I do.” River’s jaw clenched. “Please don’t go.”
He didn’t know what he was saying. He was flying high after coming out to his dad and thinking he could conquer the world, my demons included. But in a very short time, his family was going to suffer unspeakable loss. He couldn’t hold them together and clean up the mess that was me too.
River read my face, and his heart broke. His stupid, misguided heart that I’d tricked into loving me cracked in front of my eyes.
I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.
“Selfish,” River ground out, his face a grimace.
“No,” I said, my voice trembling. “It’s the least selfish thing I can do. You just can’t see it yet. But you would. Staying is selfish.”
He started to speak, but the front door opened, and his father and sister stepped into the entry below, carrying boxes of pizza and drinks.
They stopped when they saw us, Amelia surprised but smiling while Mr. Whitmore’s brow furrowed as if he hadn’t yet worked out his feelings about his son’s revelation.
I turned to River.
He shook his head. “Stay.”
I could stay. They’d let me sit at their table and share their pizza dinner, and I’d be part of a real family for the first time in my life.
I could sit with Nancy a few minutes more and soak up her motherly love until her light went out.
I could be there for River through the worst pain.
But then what? The vision of him slouched in the banged-up cab of his truck with blood trickling from his ear was a warning that Alaska wasn’t done with me. It never would be.
I smiled tremulously. “Dinner’s ready.”
“Holden—”
He reached out to grab me; I felt his fingers snag my coat—so close—but I evaded his grasp and took the stairs down, past his family staring after me, and out of the house into the sallow twilight.
James was waiting for me at the car, leaning against the door, smoking.
“Get in,” I said and tore open the back door. I hurled myself inside, hiding like the coward I was. “Drive.”
James knew when not to ask questions.
He drove us through the quiet streets, the rows of perfect houses. Homes with green lawns and fences and families inside getting ready to sit down to their dinners.
Just a few more days, I told myself, hunched in my coat, shivering like a lunatic. I’ll have my money and can disappear.
But how long would that take? A few days was too long.
“No, wait,” I barked at James. “Not home. Take me to Central High.”
“Yes, sir.”
James swung a hard U-turn and took us to the school, where I ordered him to park in the faculty lot.
“Wait here.”
It was early evening, the campus quiet, but the admin building was bustling with teachers and counselors finalizing graduation requirements and paperwork.
I stormed to the records office and threw open the door. “I need my diploma. Now.”
Ms. Reed, the records secretary, peered at me through half-moon glasses. “I beg your pardon?”
“I want my diploma. Or whatever record that proves I’ve graduated.” I smiled, showing all my teeth. “Please.”
“Name?”
“Holden Parish.”
“Well, Mr. Parish, I hate to disappoint you, but we mail those out the week after the ceremony—”
“I’m not walking in the ceremony. I’m leaving town.”
“We will mail it to you. That is standard.”
I clenched my teeth. “I won’t have an address. I’ll be…backpacking across Europe.”
I heard that was something normal people did. And I wasn’t lying about being in Europe, so I had that going for me.
Ms. Reed arched a dubious brow. “I can’t release these records to you, but if you’re going to be at a different address than what we currently have on file, give it to me, and I will make sure it’s sent there as fast as possible.”
“Fine.” I fished in my coat pocket for my wallet. I pulled out the card of my family’s lawyer, Albert Bernard, and wrote my name on the back. “This is who you send it to. His office in Paris.”
Ms. Reed took the card and peered at it.
“You got that? Albert Bernard. Paris.”
“I can read, dear,” Ms. Reed said, then smiled thinly. “I’ll see that he gets it.”
“Thank you. You’ve been a huge help,” I muttered bitterly and stormed out.
I was nearly free when Ms. Watkins’s voice sounded from behind me.
“Holden? Holden, wait—”
I walked faster, but the woman was persistent; her heels clopped on the sidewalk as I strode back to the parking lot.
“Holden, please.”
I ground out a curse and whirled around. “What is it? I’m in a bit of a hurry.”
“I never heard back from you about pursuing a degree at the university.”
“Something else has come up.”
“You mean you’re running away.” She cocked her head, concern painted all over her face. “Are you really going to leave the country? By yourself?”
“Safer for all involved.”
Ms. Watkins’s face was irritatingly sweet in its concern. “I disagree. I’m worried about you. I don’t think it’s healthy. You need stability. Community—”
“Please don’t psychoanalyze me. It’s been tried. It failed. You’re a teacher. A great teacher, Ms. W.” I walked backward toward the car. “The best I’ve ever had.”
“Holden, wait—”
“But let’s not make our relationship more than what it is,” I said with a cold sneer, because she was still trying, goddamn it. “That’s all you are to me. A high school English teacher.”
She stopped short, the hurt coming over her face like a slap.
“Bye, Ms. Watkins.”
I climbed in the car and shut the door. The self-loathing burrowed a little deeper as we drove away, leaving her standing on the curb.
So what? Let her be the savior for someone worth saving.
James took me home, and I dove headfirst into my stash of vodka and didn’t come up for three days. The money still wasn’t there, but River was. Just down the street. I could walk down the hill anytime I wanted, bang on the door, fall at his feet, and beg him to forgive me.
Then the accident would screech into my thoughts with screaming tires and shattering glass. His blood, black on the white airbag…
How would I love you sound coming out of my mouth then? Tainted. Bloodstained.
“It’s too late,” I muttered. “The damage has been done.”
And it was irreversible.
Late one night, the vodka told me it would be a good idea to stumble out of my house and wander the darkened, quiet neighborhood.
I obeyed and nearly crashed into a For Sale sign in front of a huge house a few doors down from Mags and Reg.
A peek in the window showed that it was vacant, waiting for a family to move in.
I went around back and found an unlocked window. I climbed in with no small amount of noise and roamed the empty house while an imaginary real estate agent took me from room to room.
And here is the pool where you’ll be able to swim without fear.
And here is the garage where he’ll tinker with old junkers, happy and safe.
And here is the kitchen where he’ll cook or you’ll call for takeout.
And here is the dining room where you’ll sit and eat together and talk about your day.
And here is your office where you’ll write.
And here is your bedroom where you’ll spend your nights, tangled and sweaty, his arms around you to keep the cold away.
A strangled laugh that sounded suspiciously like a sob erupted out of me.
“It’s perfect,” I whispered to the empty house. “I’ll take it.”
***
A week later, it was time to say goodbye to Miller.
We met him at the shack—Violet, Shiloh, Ronan, and myself—under a cold gray sky, no one saying much but all of them shouting volumes at me with their eyes.
Pity, mostly, I thought as I sipped from my flask that had become glued to my hand.
Pity that I’d never been able to bring River to the bonfires and sit in front of the flames with his arms around me the way they all did.
The way they did that day.
Violet cuddled against Miller. Shiloh sat with her back to Ronan, his tatted arms draped around her protectively. I sat alone, nursing my vodka.
It’s a catch-22, I thought, watching Miller absently kiss Violet on the top of her head. I want River here with me, but he can’t be here because of me.
I was the problem inherent in the solution and always would be.
Finally, the sun sank, and Miller had to catch a plane to Los Angeles.
Shiloh hugged him and kissed his cheek. “Be safe. Do good.”
I staggered to my feet and hugged him tighter and longer than I should have. When I let go, I wagged a finger in his face.
“If you ever need anything and I hear that you didn’t ask me first, I will personally hunt you down and kill you.”
Miller smiled a little. “I don’t need anything but for you to take care of yourself, okay?”
“Me?” I snorted. “I’m a paragon of good life choices.”
“My ass.” He frowned as if a sudden thought came over him and threw his arms around me again. “I mean it. Take care.”
“Careful, Stratton, or I’ll have to assume you’re in love with me.”
Because I’m in love with you and Ronan and He Who Shall Not Be Named…
Violet and Miller left, and I sat back down heavily in my seat in front of the dying fire.
Ronan and Shiloh were talking privately, but I felt their eyes on me. Then he left her to stand in front of me, feet planted, arms crossed.
“Do you practice glowering in front of a mirror? Because…” I made a circle with my thumb and forefinger and clucked my tongue. “Nailed it.”
“What’s the plan, Parish?”
“To finish this drink, watch the sunset, and then go home.”
“And after that?”
“Gay Paree, my friend.” I tilted my flask. “I intend to make sure it lives up to its name.”
“When?”
“As soon as my payout comes in. Any day now.”
Ronan drew his hand down his lips and squatted on his heels. “Don’t do anything stupid, okay?”
I put my hand to my chest, affronted. “Moi?”
“I’m fucking serious,” Ronan said, his voice low and dangerous. But not to me. He’d destroy anyone who hurt me, God love him. But big, tough Ronan was helpless against my demons too.
I patted his hand. “I’m going to be okay. I promise. I’ll be free.”
“And River?”
“He’ll be fine too. Trust me.”
Ronan studied me with flat gray eyes, then sighed and got to his feet. “I’ll see you before you go?”
No chance. I could only say goodbye to him now if I pretended it wasn’t goodbye.
“Absolutely.”
Ronan nodded and joined Shiloh. She smiled gently and waved. I held up my flask and watched my best friend disappear around the huge boulder that gave the shack its protection from the outside world.
I sat for a long while after. The sun was a burning sliver sinking into the deep when my phone rang, jarring the perfect quiet. I fished it out of my pocket to read an international number.
“Hello?”
“Holden Parish?” asked a thick French accent. “This is Monsieur Bernard.”
“Bernie. How’ve you been, old chap? I hope you’re calling with good news.”
“Indeed.” He sniffed. “I have received proof of your graduation from Central High School in Santa Cruz and informed your parents. Mr. and Mrs. Parish have, as per the agreement, released your inheritance to you.”
“And?”
“And?”
Did they ask about me? Do they send their regards? Are they proud?
“What else?”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Bernard said. “I can give you the details of your investments, assets, and holdings, but I prefer not to do so over the phone—”
“I meant, is that it? You spoke with them and told them I graduated.”
“Well…yes. As per—”
“The agreement.” The one in which I specifically requested they never talk to me again. I should’ve been glad they stuck to it, but as my parents, they weren’t supposed to.
“How much?” I asked, blinking hard.
Monsieur Bernard cleared his throat delicately. “You want the number?”
“Yes, I want the cold, hard number. What’s the payoff?”
He lowered his voice. “When all assets are totaled—liquid and otherwise—the amount is in the vicinity of $750 million.”
A huge number. It would take half a lifetime to count that high, yet I’d have traded every penny to have my parents be parents instead.
“It’s a little on the low side, but I suppose I can work with it.”
“Mr. Parish, I recommend we meet in my Paris office as soon as is convenient to go over the details and walk you through the—”
“I’m on my way.”
I hung up and watched the last of the sun sink beneath the ocean, spraying gold and amber over the water. Up the coast, the rocks slid into the sea, and then their grays and browns gave way to the green of the forest.
“A guy could get used to a view like that,” I said, the wind whipping away my words.
But it was time to go.
I hauled my ass off the chair and stepped into the shack one last time. It was dark, the small space full of shadows. And memories. The best memories. I set my flask on the long wooden fisherman’s table and left, shutting the thin door behind me.
I was almost to the parking lot when my phone chimed a text from River.
She’s gone.