Paradise Valley (Virgin River #7)(101)

“That’s more than full-time, that’s two jobs,” Paul said. “When are you going to play?”

“Mornings, I guess,” she said with a smile. She ripped open her card to read it to herself and when it opened, a hundred-dollar bill fell out. “Aw, Jack,” she said softly. “After all you and Mel have done for me, you sure shouldn’t have done this.” He just shrugged and Liz put the card down, stuffed the bill in the pocket of her jeans and reached out for him, circling his neck with her arms so she could give him a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, Jack. That’s so sweet. I’ll thank Mel myself later.”

Rick was dying as he watched. Of course, he hadn’t bothered going to her graduation, nor had he given her a card or even congratulated her. And he wanted those arms around him, those lips on his cheek. Not that he’d done one thing to deserve it.

Jack fixed up her giant Coke to go and put it on the counter. “On the house, Liz. We’re all proud of you.”

“Hear, hear,” Paul said, lifting his beer. Hope raised her Jack Daniel’s, Dan lifted his bottle of Heineken, Jack toasted with his coffee cup.

“Thanks, that means a lot,” she said softly, maybe emotionally. “I’d better get over to Connie’s.”

“See you later, honey,” Jack said.

Rick felt his eyes burn and his head start to pound as he watched her leave. His eyes dropped to her perfect butt, her long legs, that beautiful sheath of soft hair, and remembered how every inch of her felt under his hands. He could smell her, taste her. This was the love of his life, his childhood sweetheart, the girl he was going to marry, until life threw them a curve. He turned on his stool, grabbed his cane and followed her. Because he was slower getting around, she was nearly to the corner store by the time he was at the porch steps. “Hey!”

She turned toward him, frowning.

He slowly and clumsily descended the porch steps, walking toward her, his limp suddenly much more pronounced.

Dan saw Rick leave and followed, standing just outside the bar door on the porch, his arms crossed over his chest. Watching. Listening.

“You do that on purpose?” Rick yelled at Liz. “Just to punish me?”

She shook her head. “What are you talking about?”

He got a little closer. “Acting like I don’t exist like that. You won’t even look at me. Is that how bad I gross you out?”

“Shut up, Rick. You’re acting like an ass again.”

“I’m an ass? For asking why you won’t even look at me?”

“I thought that’s what you wanted! You want everything we were to just go away! Right?”

“It’s not exactly like that,” he said.

“Bullshit, it is like that! You said we can’t even be friends! So back off—you got just what you wanted!”

Jack had heard the shouting, knew who it was and stepped out of the bar. He was about to go after Rick, shut him up before it got worse, but Dan put an arm across his chest. “Let it happen,” Dan said.

“I care about Liz. If Rick’s going to be a jackass, she doesn’t deserve—”

“Let it happen,” Dan said. “She’s fighting back.”

“I don’t know,” Jack said, shaking his head.

“It’s their bone, Jack. Don’t chew on it.”

And Jack stayed, joined by Paul a moment later.

“You know it’s not what I want! It’s how it has to be!” Rick was yelling at her.

“Why? You never did say!”

“You know why—I did too say! Because you can do better, that’s why!”

She laughed meanly. “Ain’t that the truth! But why? Is it about the leg or the fact that you’re such an ass**le and you treat your best friends like crap?”

“Sorry if I’m not a happy-go-lucky idiot, Liz!” he shouted, leaning heavily on his cane. “I might have one or two things on my mind, y’know?”

“Oh, I know. You. Your mind is all filled up with yourself and how much you pity yourself. Because you’re the only one ever hurting, right?”

“Look around,” he yelled, and it was at that point that he saw the three men on the porch. He didn’t care. “How many other one-legged dudes you see hanging out here. Huh?” He stepped closer and so did she. Even though they got closer, their voices got louder. “Maybe you could just cut me some slack, Liz.”

“I’ve cut you plenty of slack, Rick, but I’m done. I can’t do anything to please you. You want me to go away quietly, then you want me to fuss over you like you’re some old friend of mine? Or maybe I’m supposed to feel sorry for you because you’re a cripple! You’re out of your f**king mind!”

“Don’t say that word,” he yelled at her. “Don’t say words like that!”

“What? Words like mind? Which you’re f**king out of? Go to hell!”

“Don’t swear like that! You’re not like that!”

“Guess what, ass**le—I don’t belong to you anymore, so you don’t tell me how you’d like me to talk!”

When she turned to go, Rick grabbed her wrist and whirled her back toward him, which caused her to drop her Coke and graduation card in the street.