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  Judge me not

  Kay

  Chase comes down the steps a few minutes following my angry departure from the bedroom. I’m still pissed at him, which is why I’m standing at the front door contemplating whether I should leave.

  My ire lets up a bit, though, when I see the suitcase in his hand. This is really happening. Leaning back against the wall by the door, my eyes can’t meet his. Chase is truly doing this. He’s leaving without me by his side.

  I’m still a little surprised he kept secrets from me, but the initial sting has subsided. I knew he was holding stuff back. I didn’t press; I just allowed myself to believe he had his reasons. It’s my fault as much as it is his that he kept stuff buried. I should have made him fess up sooner.

  But it doesn’t really matter, not anymore. I know the truth now. Or rather, I know what he wants me to think is the truth. I know Chase, though, and there’s no way those wounds on his hand were caused from hitting a person. He hit something inanimate that night; of that, I have no doubt. As for what happened with Doug, all I know is that whatever Chase did, it kept my ex away from me. That makes his actions justified in my eyes. Plus, how can I be angry? I did nothing to discourage him from seeking out my ex-boyfriend. Truthfully, I knew in my heart the day I told Chase of Doug’s intentions to apologize to me that he would take action.

  And he did. So I am as culpable as he.

  I have to admit, though, when Chase arched his eyebrow at me, questioningly, at the mention of our engagement, I was shocked and hurt. And I’m still bristling. I mean, what the hell did that arched eyebrow mean? That we’re not really engaged, or that being engaged means nothing?

  Chase nears where I’m standing and sets his suitcase on the floor. I glance his way. His eyes hold a million apologies but I know no matter how sorry he feels, he is not going to bend. He’s not going to take me to Las Vegas with him.

  I glance away, and he says softly, “Kay.”

  I don’t respond, but he’s not deterred. He comes to me and wraps his strong arms around me.

  “Don’t,” I snap, twisting away.

  “Come on, baby girl,” he soothes. “Don’t leave it like this.”

  I resist meeting his blues, but his fingers find my chin and I have no choice but to look up at him.

  His eyes hold nothing but truth, sincerity, and remorse. “I’m sorry, Kay,” he says. “I’m sorry I kept secrets. I’m sorry I hurt you.”

  I cave a little. “Did you really beat the junkie?”

  “What do you think?” he asks.

  “No.”

  “And Doug?”

  “Just talked to him.”

  “I wouldn’t have cared if you beat him,” I say, “not for his sake. But I’m glad you didn’t, for yours.”

  Chase sighs, lowering his hand from my chin. “I don’t want to fight anymore, Kay. I’m sorry I mocked our engagement that way. It was shitty. But you know I love you, right? And, if you’ll still have me, I still want to get married.”

  “We could get married in Vegas,” I say slyly.

  “Kay…” Chase sighs. “I have to do this alone. You can’t come to Vegas, not under these circumstances.”

  There’s hesitation in his voice now, hesitation that wasn’t there when we were arguing upstairs. Maybe Chase is second-guessing his decision to leave me behind. Damn, he knows we’re better together than we are apart. And he can keep me safe in Vegas, just like I’ll keep him grounded.

  But before I can say any of this, Chase mutters, “I’d better go.”

  There’s a short good-bye kiss, a long hug, and then he’s gone. I can’t bring myself to watch him drive away. It hurts too much.

  After he’s gone, I aimlessly walk around downstairs, from room to room. But the emptiness of the house without Chase in it is too much to handle. I head up to the bedroom, where everything still smells like my guy—fresh, soapy, male.

  There’s an indentation on the bed where the suitcase was. I erase the reminder that Chase is gone by reaching down and smoothing out the covers. Suddenly, I feel exhausted. I lie down on the bed and press my nose to Chase’s pillow, whispering his name.

  Rolling to my back, I stare up at the wall. Above me hangs the oil pastel of the Eiffel Tower, the sketch Chase drew for me not so very long ago. The drawing is beautiful, and I can’t help but smile when I recall the many times Chase and I have talked, laughed, and loved beneath this little piece of Paris.

  Paris…

  I’m reminded of the evening Chase brought Paris to me, the night of our rooftop picnic at sunset. Everything was so perfect. We feasted on brie spread over pieces of baguette; we drank pink-tinged Kir that matched the sunset that evening. But, best of all, Chase and I made love for the first time that night.

  Chase gave me a memory, a beautiful memory, to hold close to my heart. I knew even then that that memory would soothe me in troubled times such as these.

  And it does; that memory soothes me now.

  My head starts to clear and I get a hold of any lingering wayward emotions. Time to quit lying around, time to quit moping—it’s time to take action.

  But I’m not exactly sure what I should do.

  Rising up to my knees, I glance around.

  My cell is on the nightstand. Usually I handle things by myself, or with Chase, but maybe if I talk with someone else, I’ll find the direction I seek.

  Heck, it’s worth a try.

  My first impulse is to call Father Maridale, since he’s generally a help when I feel uncertain, but I hesitate. Tonight, I feel speaking with a woman might be more helpful to me.

  Decided and determined, I reach out and grab my cell from the nightstand. But then I just stare blankly at it. Who can I call—Missy? No, she’s dealing with her own things. Sadly, I don’t really have any other female friends.

  To be honest, I know who I’d like to speak with.

  But I am hesitant to call her.

  “Oh, what the hell,” I say out loud, resolving to do the one thing I never would have imagined myself doing even just a month ago.

  I call my mother.

  In some inexplicable, weird way it feels right, like my mother and I have progressed to this point, and it’s my turn to reach out. As Father Maridale counseled, I am giving her an opportunity to be here for me. My mother has initiated all contact up to this point; she always calls me. She’s been great so far, too; keeping up with me, warning me about Doug. But this will mark the first time I’ve taken it upon myself to get in touch with her.

  I breathe in deeply. Let’s see how this goes…

  To my delight, when I reach her, my mom sounds genuinely pleased to hear from me. That kind of response touches me deep inside. This is the connection I’ve longed for ever since Mom turned away. Before then, even. I always wanted a real relationship with my mother. After all, she is my flesh and blood and there’s a bond there that transcends hurt feelings and past wrongs, no matter how deeply they run.

  We talk, just small talk. I keep the conversation light, updating her on what we’ve been doing, like the fair Chase and I took Will and Jared to, our road trip to Pittsburgh, movies we’ve seen, that sort of thing.

  At one point, Mom a
sks me how work is going, and I reply, “Actually, I’m pretty much done with the secretary gig. That was just for the summer.”

  “School doesn’t start till September, though,” she remarks.

  “That’s true,” I reply, “but the regular secretary, Connie, returns on Monday from her trip. She and her husband were on an extended cruise.”

  “Oh, so you have the next three weeks off?”

  “Yeah,” I confirm. “Father Maridale told me I can still come in and help Connie if I get bored, but there’s really no need. I’m sure I’ll find plenty of things to do around here.”

  There’s a smile in Mom’s voice as she states, “Look on the bright side, honey. Think of how much time you and Chase can spend together these next few weeks. You have the rest of August to do things before you go back to teaching. These dog days of summer are so nice for young couples; lots of end-of-summer events and activities to enjoy.”

  “Um…”

  Mom, misunderstanding my non-reply, says, “Oh, what am I going on about? I’m sure Chase still has to work the rest of the month. Just never mind me, honey.”

  Chase would still be working through August, but when Father Maridale was told of the latest troubles with Will, he gave Chase the rest of the month off.

  Damn. Mom’s words resonate, and I think of how I’d love to be planning fun, end-of-summer activities for Chase and me to partake in. But who knows how much of the next few weeks we’ll even end up spending together. Chase might be stuck in Vegas for a while.

  When I don’t immediately respond to my mom, she says, as only moms can do, “Kay, what’s wrong?”

  I need to talk to someone and she really is trying, so I confess to her that Chase is gone. “He’s on his way to the airport right now. Chase is flying out to Las Vegas early tomorrow morning to, uh, help his brother. I don’t know how long he’ll be gone.”

  Mom sighs, then says with much kindness, “I’m sorry, Kay.”

  That prompts me to spill everything that has really been happening. Well, almost everything. I leave out my argument with Chase, and I don’t dare mention that Will purchased a gun. I do, however, share with my mother that a misguided Will might run into trouble while trying to protect his girlfriend.

  My mom is quiet for a few beats, like maybe she’s assessing. Sure enough, she says softly, “You want to go with Chase, don’t you?”

  “I do,” I admit. Why lie?

  “So, why aren’t you with him now?” she gently prods.

  I stifle a sniffle. “He wants to do this alone, Mom. He thinks I’ll get caught up in what he terms a dangerous situation.” I sigh. “This thing with Will, it’s, uh, volatile. Besides, Chase told me he needs to do this on his own.”

  Even though my responses are vague, I expect my mother to do what she’s always done—start up with her judgments.

  But she does nothing of the sort. Instead of blurting out something cutting or biting, she says, “Honey, don’t ever doubt yourself. And don’t let Chase doubt you, either. It sounds to me like he might need you with him more than he realizes.”

  I consider her words and mumble a “maybe.”

  “Kay,” she continues, “sometimes men underestimate what we, as women, can handle. Chase wants to protect you, sure, and that’s noble, but maybe he needs you to show him what you’re made of. Show him the strong woman I know you are, honey. Show him how your strength can actually strengthen him.”

  “He knows I’m strong,” I reply softly. “I mean, I think he does.”

  “Show him you are,” Mom responds.

  “How?” I whisper.

  Her answer is simple, but powerful. “Go to him, Kay.”

  Sage advice from a woman I thought had given up on me, a woman I almost gave up on myself. I feel elated that I’ve made this call; it was absolutely the right thing to do.

  And since I’m ready to keep making better decisions, I announce, “I am going to go to him. I’ll book a ticket and pack as soon as we finish up here.”

  I hear a smile in Mom’s voice as she says, “Then I’d better let you go, sweetie.”

  “Okay.”

  But before we disconnect, my mother adds, “Be safe, Kay. And if there’s anything you need, anything at all, just call me, okay?”

  “I will,” I promise, and then I say, “Oh, and Mom…”

  “Yes?”

  “Thank you.”

  Two hours later, I am on the turnpike, heading out of Ohio and into Pennsylvania. Another twenty minutes and I should be arriving at the airport in Pittsburgh. Surely, my presence will surprise the hell out of Chase. I expect he may resist the idea of me going with him at first, like he did back at the house, but I am not changing my mind. No matter what he says or does.

  Nope, I am going to Las Vegas with Chase Gartner. I’m booked on the same flight, and I was even able to book the seat next to him.

  There’s no going back now.

  “Never doubt me,” I whisper to myself as I drive.

  It’s what I’d say to Chase if he were here, because what he doesn’t realize is that danger doesn’t frighten me. I’ve faced a lot, and I’ve come through everything okay. Maybe a little roughed up sometimes, yes, but I’ve kept going.

  Besides, when it comes right down to it, I’d walk into the fires of Hell for Chase. I love him that much, though I don’t think things will come to that.

  The situation with Chase’s brother is bound to be resolved. I just hope it’s in a way in which everyone comes out safe.

  But no matter what happens, one thing is certain: Chase and I are going to overcome this obstacle in the same way we’ve faced everything else—together.

  Chase

  “Chase, wake up. I’m here.”

  A female voice, I know that voice.

  Wait, I love the person that voice belongs to. “Kay,” I whisper.

  “Yes, it’s me.” She shakes my shoulder then tries—unsuccessfully, I might add—to lift me from where I’m lying on my back in a corner area of boarding gate B17. It’s not the most comfortable spot to sleep—scratchy carpeting, no pillow—but when you’re exhausted you make do.

  “I’m here,” the voice continues. “Wake up, baby.”

  Kay, the love of my life, is here at the airport in Pittsburgh. I can’t believe it. My forgiving girl, she didn’t let the harsh words I spewed before I left the farmhouse—back where we live in Ohio—stop her. Sure, we kind of worked things out before I took off, but I have no doubt she was still all kinds of pissed at me.

  Maybe she’s not so very angry, after all, seeing as she’s here with me, saying my name…again.

  Relief floods me. Kay doesn’t sound angry at all. She sounds forgiving and beautiful.

  Even so, I roll to my side and drift back to sleep. Kay is beauty, forgiveness, and love, but sleep offers blissful oblivion. And with what I’m about to embark on, I need a few more minutes of oblivion.

  I drift back to where I was before Kay arrived—dreaming. In this dream, I am fourteen years old again, living in a beautiful, contemporary home. I know the house well. It’s the house my parents once owned, before we fell into financial ruin. And before my dad decided to drive off a cliff in the Nevada desert, ending his time on this planet.

  Yeah, before those things happened.

  My mom is happy in this dreamland of mine, having not yet discovered the lure of gambling, and my little brother Will is just that—little. He hasn’t yet learned of drugs and how they can make him feel. He’s bright-eyed and clear-headed. More importantly, the guns he plays with aren’t real; they are only toys.

  Also in Dreamland, Will doesn’t have a girlfriend he feels the need to save. And that is a blessing I wish were real.

  “Cassie,” I murmur, annoyed.

  An image of Will’s ethereal-looking girlfriend infiltrates my good dream, turning it sour. Cassie may look like some waif-like, golden-haired angel, but she’s far from pure. In my opinion, she’s no good for Will. She’s as mixed-up and confuse
d as my brother, which does him no good. Worse yet, Cassie is surrounded by devils. After all, it is her fucked-up stepdad, Paul, who has given Will a reason to return early to Vegas.

  Will was staying with me for the summer until he learned of Paul’s latest misconduct toward Cassie. Yeah, finding out that Paul had his hands on his sixteen-year-old girlfriend—albeit only briefly—was more than enough motivation to put that kid on a bus heading west.

  A bus I hope to catch up to sometime tomorrow.

  Hence the airport I’m lying in, dreaming; hence the flight I’ve booked to Vegas. If I don’t intercept Will, disaster could ensue. Because, shit, Lord only knows what little bro has planned. Unfortunately, I suspect it’s something that involves a gun. And with the right combination of fury and drugs, my brother could very well decide there’s a bullet in the chamber of that very gun with Paul’s name on it.

  Fuck.

  I shudder, and Kay shakes me again. “Come on, Chase,” she says, irritated. “No one can sleep this soundly. Wake up.”

  She’s aggravated, but her small hands feel so good on me. I’m reminded that Dreamland is illusory—things can change on a dime. But Kay, my Kay, offers real comfort.

  I open my eyes and peer up at her porcelain face, her chestnut mane of hair flowing down her shoulders in waves.

  I murmur what I’m thinking, “Beautiful.”

  “Chase,” she says, sighing.

  My eyes meet her caramel-colored gaze, and I mumble a sleepy, “Hey.”

  “Hey, back at you,” she replies with a smile that warms me to no end.

  “You came,” I croak out, my voice thick from sleep.

  “Did you really think you could keep me away?” Kay asks. But then she pauses, contemplates, and adds, “Wait. Don’t answer that.”

  “I’m a fool,” I say, reaching up and touching her face. “I should’ve known better.”

  She covers my hand with hers. “You were only trying to protect me. I know that now.”

  After giving her cheek a light caress—I always want to touch her—I drop my hand to my side. Sitting up, I rake my fingers through my hair. Glancing around the boarding area, I sigh. I’m thankful that it’s empty.