33. Wyatt
WYATT
“You look like shit, big brother.” My little sister, Kate, smiled down at me as her hand slapped on my shoulder.
I scooted out from the booth at the café and rose to wrap her in a bear hug. Her wavy brown hair had gotten longer, and she looked a little too thin, but she was finally home.
“Ol’ Catfish Katie is back in Outtatowner!”
She shoved me hard in the shoulder. “Knock it off with that shit!” She looked around the café to see if anyone had heard me. “It’s Kate. Just Kate.”
“Yeah, okay.” She knew as well as I did that dumbass nicknames were about the only thing people remembered about you when you left. That and the time you stole your aunt’s car to do doughnuts in a parking lot just to accidentally break an axle when you lost control and slammed into the curb.
I grinned at her, remembering how afraid she was to tell Dad, and how I’d taken the heat for it so she could still go to prom.
She looked past me onto the pile of papers on the table. “So what are you frowning over?”
I glanced at my stack of notes and the half-drank, now-cold coffee that the server kept trying to refill. “Not much, paperwork for the season. The less-glamorous side of college ball.”
“Where’s the little nugget of yours?”
“Pickle’s with Tootie, getting supplies for the Little Miss Blueberry Pageant. Apparently she’s a shoo-in at the Blueberry Festival.”
Kate slid into the bench across the booth from me. “Seems like she’s settling in then.”
“Are you kidding? She’s practically the princess of Remington County.”
Kate plucked a french fry from my plate, bit it, and then frowned at how cold and mushy it was before dropping it back down and dusting the salt from her fingers. “And how about you?”
Horrible. Miserable. A total fucking moron.
“I’m fine.” I shrugged. “Busy.”
Kate grinned at me. She always was a shit stirrer. She pointed a long finger at me, swirling it in the air between us, and in her singsong voice she said, “I heard a rumor about you.”
I shook my head and pretended to look over the papers in front of me.
Kate sighed and planted her hands on her hips. “Fine. Be annoying. But I want to meet this girl who got the Wyatt Sullivan to fall head over heels in loooooove.”
Her words sliced through me like a lance, but I schooled my face into bored annoyance. “How long are you staying again?”
She laughed and rolled her eyes. “Oh, whatever, you love me. So tell me about Lark.”
Just hearing her name was painful. It was like the single syllable cut off my air supply.
She had been gone for only two weeks, and it felt like I was slowly dying.
Lark got the job because of course she did . She’d cried while I’d put on a brave face and told her how proud I was of her.
Though I’d wanted to throw up, I’d held her in my arms and reassured her that we’d be here, in Outtatowner, waiting for her when she wrapped.
I’d wait my entire fucking life if I had to.
I’d offered to buy her a plane ticket, but she’d refused.
Lark had said she needed her clothes, and not knowing exactly how long she would have to stay in LA, she’d thought it was best to drive out there.
I’d disagreed and told her as much, but once she smiled sweetly and laid out her plan, I’d begrudgingly gone along with it.
It helped her case that she was on her knees when she’d pitched the idea, and that image had run on a loop in my head ever since.
But since she’d left, every time I thought about Lark—which was too damn much—I was convinced I was having a heart attack or a stroke, because there was a splinter lodged in my chest, and the incessant ringing in my ears didn’t seem to go away.
“Lark is good,” was all I could manage.
Katie squinted at me. She knew I was full of shit. “When will she be home for me to meet her?”
I shrugged. “Dunno.”
Lark and I texted every day and tried to connect over FaceTime, but the three-hour time difference made it difficult.
Penny was also miserable without Lark, so anytime we did connect on the phone, Penny would take over and dominate the conversation.
I didn’t have the heart to take those stolen moments from either of them.
We also didn’t know when she’d be back, and that was the most torturous part of all.
“Well, you’re still a bucket of laughs.” Kate slapped her hands on the table and stood.
“I’m going to meet Tootie over at the house.
” She flipped her dark hair over her shoulder.
“You boys weren’t kidding—that place is a disaster waiting to happen.
I guess we’re meeting some guy today to go over the work he’s going to do.
Gotta run interference and make sure she doesn’t get hosed by the contractor. ”
More accurately, it was Tootie running interference to make sure Kate didn’t blow a gasket.
None of us had the balls to tell her that it was her weasel-nosed ex-boyfriend’s brother Beckett contracted for the work.
It didn’t matter that he was Duke’s best friend; she was going to lose it. “Have fun.”
She winked and waved goodbye over her shoulder before adding a final little-sister jab. “And hey, Wyatt? Lighten up.”
I only shook my head and went back to my work. How could I lighten up when my heart was somewhere in LA?
* * *
“Do you think she’s ever coming back?” Penny’s miserable voice cracked, and I clamped my jaw tight to keep it together as I tucked her into bed.
I was tired. So fucking tired of living without Lark.
“I hope so, baby. She’s going to try to call tomorrow.”
“Why did she have to leave us? Did you make her mad? Mom says that you made her mad, and that’s why she doesn’t stay with us.”
Fucking Bethany. Irritation rolled through me, but I wasn’t about to shit-talk Penny’s mother when she was already struggling.
“I didn’t make Lark mad. Neither of us did anything to make her leave. It’s her job, just like sometimes I have to go away for games.” I smoothed her hair as her lip wobbled. She sucked it in and nodded.
My brave little girl.
“I just want her home.”
I swallowed hard. This wasn’t right. Pickle felt it and so did I. “I do too, baby girl.”
I hated seeing Penny as miserable as I felt. I wanted to ram my fist through a wall—make it right for her. For both of us.
I’d picked up my phone to call Lark a thousand times and tell her: This is a mistake. You didn’t need to leave. This is real and I love you and we’ll make this work.
I stopped myself every time. I couldn’t be the selfish prick I wanted to be when it came to Lark achieving her dreams. I loved her too damn much. So instead, I let the lies roll off my tongue: We’re managing here. We’re so happy for you. Everything is good.
Heartsick, Penny and I shared the silence while I rubbed her back and shoved down the riot of emotions that were practically killing me.
I knew that night, like every other since Lark left, that the low, angry voice would whisper in the dark and remind me I was meant to be alone. Lark was never mine to keep.
“Okay, kiddo, get some rest.” I kissed her cheek and tucked her blankets in tight around her, just the way she liked them. “Love you, burrito baby.” Halfway across the room I stopped and turned. I infused my voice with false brightness. “One more?”
Only her face didn’t brighten. She only shrugged. “No, I’m okay.”
My heart broke a little more when I crossed the room anyway.
* * *
The following week, Bethany arranged to take Penny shopping and find a dress for the Little Miss Blueberry Pageant. I was relieved because it was the first real smile I’d gotten out of Pickle in days, and I knew jack shit about small-town pageant dresses—it was squarely in Beth’s wheelhouse.
I’d given her a wad of cash and explicit instructions on when I expected Penny to be home. She rolled her eyes and ignored me, of course, and was an hour late, but at least I had gotten a text letting me know they were running late. I’d consider that a small win.
Penny raced from Bethany’s car, dragging two new dresses on the ground. “Careful. You don’t want to mess those up.”
Pickle grinned at her mom and ran right past me. “Hey, Dad!”
I’d wanted a hug, but at least she wasn’t moping—or worse, making me feel like the scum of the earth for convincing Lark it was a good idea for her to leave. Not that I needed any help there.
I turned back to Bethany. “Thanks for the heads-up that you were running late.”
She smiled primly and batted her lashes. “Didn’t want to anger the warden.”
“Whatever, I’m not that bad.” Was I?
“Sure you are.”
Bethany always had a way of raising my hackles, getting under my skin, and making me feel like shit. I had turned to leave when she stopped me.
“I’m pregnant.”
My muscles stiffened, and a pit opened in my stomach. When Bethany had spoken those same words nearly eight years ago, my entire world had been tipped on its axis. This time, instead of having a meltdown and thinking about all the ways life as I’d known it was over, I’d only thought of Pickle.
“Does she know?”
Bethany stared past me at the front door, barely shaking her head. “Not yet. But I’m going to do it right this time. Really be there for the baby and make up for all my mistakes.”
My heart broke for Penny. All she’d ever wanted from her mom was to be loved. The way a mother should love her daughter in the simplest, most natural way in the world.
For Beth, it was easier to start over than to show up and be the dependable mother Penny needed her to be. I was angry for her all over again.
“Goodbye, Bethany.” I turned toward the house.
“She loves her like a mom, you know.” Beth’s words hit me square in the back, and I paused. “The nanny. Penny loves her.”
My jaw tightened. “Lark is not the nanny.”
Her calculating smirk was back. “I know. Just wanted to see it for myself.”
“See what?”
She lifted a finger to point at me. “That. The constipated look you get when someone shits all over something you love.” She shrugged. “Your fierce loyalty is one of your best qualities.”
I wanted to bite back with a petty clearly not one of yours , but I shut my mouth. I was too tired to go another round with Bethany when it never mattered in the long run.
When I stared at her, she dropped a hand to her flat stomach. “He offered to marry me, but I don’t think I’m going to say yes.”
I swallowed, unsure of this new ground we were covering. “Okay.”
Tension hung thick in the air.
“You deserve her, you know. Penny.” A sad smile crossed her face as she opened the car door. “She worships the ground you walk on. Maybe one of us should show her what a happy, functional relationship should look like.”
I waved a weak goodbye and stomped toward the house. I hated to know she was right.