Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
H eading back over the Harbor Bridge, it was like Frank was seeing Waterbury with completely new eyes.
He wasn’t imagining St. Vincent’s Hospital where all of the Hartigans had been born since the first ones immigrated from Ireland, or The Wooden Barber Hardware Store, which was rumored to be a front for running numbers. He was visualizing ranch houses with picket fences, picturing elementary schools, and conjuring up images of himself in a tux and Katie in a white dress walking out of the chapel at St. Bernadette’s.
“So I figured I’d drop you off at your car,” she said as they hit the high point of the suspension bridge.
“Sure.” He reached over and rested his palm on her thigh. “I can follow you back to your place, or we can just come pick up my car tomorrow.”
There were a few too many beats of silence, and then she said, “I’m not sure that’s a great idea.”
He pivoted in his seat to get a full look at Katie as she drove, and his gut dropped to the bottom of the harbor. He took in her white knuckles as she gripped the wheel at ten and two, her ramrod-straight posture, and the way she kept her attention solely focused on the road ahead, even though they were the only car for at least a quarter of a mile.
Her nose twitched, and her chin trembled. “I’m not sure we should think of this as anything more than a wild night.”
Forget the bottom of the harbor. His gut was melted goo in the earth’s core, along with his heart. “But not one to repeat.”
She shook her head and sniffled. “Look, you’re a great guy, but—” Her voice trailed off, and she turned into the movie theater parking lot.
“I’m not your kind of guy,” he said, staring out the window at the lit up lot filled with cars for the late show.
“No, it’s not that.” She let out a quick breath and squared her shoulders as if she had to brace herself for what she was about to say. “I’m not your kind of girl. There’s Connie just breaking up with Adler, and you work with Collin and my dad, and then there is the whole question of how my brothers would react. And you want to move up in the fire department, right? How can you do that when you become associated with those always-trouble Madigans? There’s a reason why my dad never gets promoted.” She let out a shaky breath and pulled into the spot next to his Firebird. She turned off her car but kept her hands on the steering wheel, and she still wouldn’t look at him. “It just wouldn’t work out, so it’s better to end things now after what really was—despite the fight in the museum, working a shift at the diner, and having to break into my own car—the best night of my life.”
Her voice broke on the last part, and it cracked something inside Frank. It hurt worse than when he’d missed a rung of the ladder in training and fallen down three flights before the oh-fuck safety rope stopped him from crashing into the ground—but not from dislocating his shoulder.
This time, everything hurt, but he finally understood.
He opened the car door and had one foot on the concrete before something stopped him, and he looked over at her. “You’re scared.”
She whipped her head around and finally looked at him, her red-rimmed eyes wide. “What are you talking about? I’m not scared of anything.”
He snorted derisively, unable to wrap his brain around the lie she was telling herself. “Tonight, you said it’s hard to be thought of as just one of the Madigans, but you’re scared to be anything but.”
“That’s a load of shit,” she shot back, but there wasn’t any fire in her words.
“I don’t know everything, but I know you, Katie Madigan,” he said, fighting to keep his tone even while his whole world crashed in on itself. “Do you think we’re just a fluke? Oh no. I’ve been working on getting you to notice me for months.” Frustration, embarrassment, and hurt swirled together into a unique kind of third-degree burn heat that sizzled through him. “Do you have any idea how much of my grocery money I lost at poker night? I couldn’t miss it because then I wouldn’t get to see you. I have been eating PB&Js for breakfast and lunch for three months.”
A red blotch appeared at the base of her throat. Her breathing had gone ragged, but he pressed on because she needed to hear this.
“And do you think I just happened to know about the elephant exhibit? No. I watched the papers for weeks so I’d know when it opened up.”
Katie pressed her lips together so tight they practically disappeared into a thin white line, but the tears she’d been trying to blink away started falling anyway.
“And that slow song that just happened to start as soon as we got to the supply closet at Marinos? Not in the least bit on accident.”
Watching her gulp in air while wiping her tears away with the back of her hand was fucking killing him, and he was afraid he was never going to get the acidic taste of these hard truths out of his mouth. Hurting her was the last thing he wanted to do, but he wasn’t going to watch her fear march her out of his life without a fight.
But she didn’t say anything. The most amazing woman in the world just sat in her car, facing forward, with her hands back on the wheel. She didn’t even bother to wipe away the tears anymore.
He waited, holding his breath, but she didn’t even glance his way. A hole in his chest formed, where his heart had been only a few minutes ago. Frank tried to think of something else he could say, but there was nothing left. He’d said it all.
Feeling like he’d been run over by the ladder truck, he got out of the Pinto. The door had barely clicked shut before she pulled out of the parking spot. Standing next to his Firebird, he sucked in the humid June air and tried to find his bearings.
He’d fished his keys out of his pocket and had just opened his door when the Pinto reappeared, screeching to a halt in front of him and leaving the scent of burned rubber in the air.
Katie killed the engine, got out of the car, and marched over to him. “I am sorry you wasted your time and money.” She reached into that massive purse of hers and pulled out a wallet. Her shoulders were squared and her chin was high, but there was no missing the fact that she’d been crying. “How much do I owe you?”
“Not a damn thing because none of it was a waste. Not a single dime. Not a single minute. It was all worth it.” He took the wallet out of her hand and shoved it back into her purse. “Yeah, you’re a Madigan, but you’re also more than that. Your students love you, which is good because waitressing is not for you. You clean up at poker, which is good because neither firefighters nor teachers have the kind of huge salaries we’re going to need to afford at least a dozen kids when we get married. You’re the kind of person who would help someone out even though you’re not the Katie they were looking for.” He cupped her face and tilted it upward, so she had to look at him because this next part mattered as much as she did. “You’re smart. You’re funny. You’re an amazing kisser. And you’re just awesome in general. You were right about what you said earlier. You’re not my kind of girl, Katie. You are the girl for me. Period.”
And even though it hurt like hell not to let it turn into something more, Frank brushed his lips across hers in the briefest of kisses and then dropped his hands and stepped back, giving her the space to walk away.
The next fifteen seconds were the most important of his life. All he could do was wait to see what Katie did next.
“Hartigan!” A man’s yell boomed across the parking lot. “I know it was you!”
He and Katie both turned to see that dipshit yuppie Alder headed straight for them, his trio of toady buddies following in his wake.