Only One (Reed Brothers)(12)

“Why do you call her Patty?”

Her jaw ticks. “I don’t want to talk about my mom.”

“Okay,” I say slowly.

“Are you going to college?” she asks.

“No, college isn’t for me. I have too much to do here.”

She bends over and picks up a pretty shell, turning it over in her hand. She holds it up. “Look, it’s the color of the sky,” she says and then she slips it into her pocket. She smiles at me, and I swear it nearly knocks me off my feet.

She’s wearing a pretty, flirty little dress that blows around her knees in the wind. It’s soft and wispy, and so is her hair. I reach up and tug a piece free that’s stuck to her lips.

“Are you going to college?” I ask.

She nods and skips ahead of me to pick up a piece of sea glass. “UNC Charlotte.”

“Staying close to home, huh?” I ask.

She nods. “I don’t want to leave my dad all alone.”

“He didn’t come this year, did he?”

“No, they’re divorced.”

“Carrie,” I say softly, “why don’t you talk about your mom?”

She shrugs. “She’s not my mom anymore. She’s just that woman who left.”

“I don’t understand.”

“She left. And she never came back. She never came to see me, or had me visit her. She just left. She took off with her boyfriend and she vanished. She completely forgot me. So, now that she’s dying, she wants to rebuild what she tore down. I’m just not interested. Not at all.”

“But she’s dying,” I say quietly.

“That doesn’t change anything,” she says stubbornly.

But it does. It changes everything. Absolutely everything.





Carrie

That was the worst date in the history of dates. Nick was quiet at dinner, and I tried to talk to him about all the things I’d normally talk about with a guy—school, friends, social events—but he didn’t act like he was enjoying our discussion. I don’t think he enjoyed our date at all. In fact, I think he’d rather have been strung up by his toenails from the clothesline and beaten.

We walk quietly back from the pier restaurant, only now he’s steps away from me across the sand. He may as well be miles from me, because that’s how it feels.

“Did I say something to make you angry?” I ask quietly.

“What?” He jerks his head in my direction.

“What’s wrong?” I stop and put my hands on my hips. He looks up at the moon instead of at me and takes a deep breath.

“I just…” he starts. But then he stops. Even in the moonlight, I can see the tic of his jaw as it clenches. “Nothing.”

“Are you angry because Dale was at my house?”

Tic.

“I didn’t invite him over,” I rush to explain. “He saw me sitting on the deck and he came over and introduced himself.”

Tic.

“You were really quiet at dinner.”

Tic.

“After the way you greeted me on the beach, I thought you at least liked me.” I wish I hadn’t said that.

Tic.

“Well, thanks a lot for dinner,” I say. Then I start walking away.

“Wait,” he calls. He runs up behind me and gently tugs my elbow. “Just wait.”

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“I’m…kind of disappointed.”

I pull my head back, my eyebrows probably shooting high on my forehead. “In me?”

“Yeah.” The word is little more than a breath. “Well, not you,” he says a little louder. “In the situation with your mom. I don’t know how to explain it.”

I huff out a sigh. “Great,” I mumble. “Now she’s ruining this too.”

His head jerks toward mine and his eyes narrow. “Why can’t you see it?” he says. He shakes his head. “I don’t understand it.”

I toss up my hands. “Understand what?”

“I just don’t get it. If I had one more moment…” He holds up one finger and his voice cracks. He clears his throat. “If I had one more moment with my parents, I’d take it and use it all up, enjoying every second. And you’re just throwing it away.”

I look everywhere but at his face. He’s too intense for me right now. But he takes my chin in his grip and makes me look at him.

“You’re wasting time,” he says.

I shake free of his grip. “You don’t understand the situation,” I growl. “You’re judging me and you have no idea what she did to me.”

“Then tell me!” he cries. “Tell me about it. Get it off your chest so you can get over it.”

“She left me. She never came back!” I yell. There’s so much fury in my voice that I startle myself. “She picked some man over me and my dad and she left!”

“She’s here now!” he yells in my face. When did we get this close? He points to the beach house. “She’s inside and she’s reaching out to you. Take it. Take her, before it’s too late.”

I cross my arms. “I can’t.”

“Then you’re not the person I thought you were.” He steps back from me, and I feel like there’s a gaping chasm between us.