Chapter Twenty

 

Veronica

 

"He said what to you?"

"That he's proud of me."

"Proud of you?" Javi said as if it was the worst thing that he had ever heard. "He's proud of you? That's all that he could muster up?"

I sighed and dropped onto the couch, sprawling out so that one arm and leg hung off the side and the other arm came to drape over my face.

"Yes," I said. "We were standing there on this exquisite expanse of beach in the moonlight, watching the waves. Everything was so perfect and gorgeous. We had spent three days like we were living out the Blue Lagoon and he turned me into his arms, gazed into my eyes…" I let out a sigh. "And told me how fucking proud of me he is."

"For having sex with him? That seems tasteless."

"No," I said, letting my arm drop away from my face so that I could look at him. "Not for having sex with him. He said that he was so proud of me for how hard I've worked and how far I've come since we met."

"Well, you have worked really hard. You've accomplished some pretty amazing things."

"And I appreciate the acknowledgment."

"But that's not what you wanted to hear from him."

I squeezed my eyes closed and let out a long breath. Part of me hated that Javi could read me so easily, but at the same time, I was glad that he didn't make me say it.

"I just felt like it was that moment. We were standing there and I felt this amazing contentment come over me like everything was going to be alright. Does that make sense?"

"Of course, it does. I mean, I have never personally experienced that particular moment because I am always pretty well certain that everything is going to be alright. But I know what you're saying. You thought that you were going to get your fairy tale."

"At least my women's network romance movie."

"What is it that you really want from him, Ronnie?"

"I don't know."

The truth was that I really wasn't sure what I wanted. I didn't know how I would have reacted if he had taken that opportunity on the beach to finally show his heart fully to me. I felt like I was beginning to really understand what Jude had meant when he talked about courage and confidence. I felt like I was finding out who I was and my place in the world. As I discovered that, I was hoping to find what his place was in that world as well.

"Did you tell him about what you're doing?"

I shook my head. I had only just gotten started on the special project for him and I hadn't yet brought myself to share it with Jude.

"No," I said. "I started to, but then I just couldn't."

"Why not?"

"I don't know. What if I'm wrong? What if I can't do it? That would hurt him even more."

"I don't think that's true."

"What if he doesn't want me involved?"

"So, you're just giving up?"

"No," I said, pulling myself up to a sitting position. "I'm going to keep trying. I feel like I have to."

 

Two weeks later I walked out of rehearsal and found Aaron standing outside the building. I stopped short, somewhat startled by his presence at the school. It was like he had broken out of his usual, expected realm of my life and I didn't really know how to process him being here.

"Hi, Aaron," I said.

"Good afternoon, Veronica," he said. "Would you come with me?"

I stayed still.

"Why?" I asked.

"Mr. Ford asked that I come find you."

I reached into my bag and dug out my phone. I looked at the screen and realized that I had missed ten calls from Jude since that morning.

"Is something wrong?" I asked.

"I don't know. He just asked that I pick you up and bring you to him. He said that it was very important."

I felt a sense of panic in my chest as I got into the car. What could be wrong? Why did he need me with such urgency? The last time that I had seen Jude it was after he had exploded out of the office of another professor, his jaw set and his eyes fiery. Though he hadn't given me any explanation as to what had happened, I had heard their shouted voices and I knew that there had been some kind of confrontation. I had gone with him to his next class and watched for a few moments as he graded a stack of quizzes that he had given the day before. I wasn't sure why I was standing there as he seemed to ignore me completely and brutally slash at the papers with a red pen, obliterating whole answers and leaving scathing comments on others. I knew that so many students feared taking his classes because they knew that he was tough and unyielding, but I was unaccustomed to seeing him this forceful. I had stayed there until I needed to leave and hadn't heard from Jude since, so now I felt a sickness in my stomach, worried that there was something wrong.

We had been driving only a few moments when I realized that we were following a different path.

"Aaron? Did he tell you where you were supposed to bring me?"

"He just gave me an address."

I knew what the address was. I already knew where he was taking me and the sick feeling got more pronounced. Finally, we pulled up behind another car and I saw Jude climb out. He came to the door and opened it, reaching in to help me out.

"What's going on?" I asked as I got out and he shut the door behind me. "What are we doing here?"

"We're going inside."

He started to walk away from the car, trying to pull me with him, but I resisted.

"No," I said. "I don't want to go inside."

Jude turned back to me.

"Why?"

"I explained why."

He took both of my hands and eased me a step closer.

"Veronica, you can do this. I know it's hard. But I'm here. Just start. Just open the door."

I looked over the top of the car toward my grandmother's house and felt nervousness ripple through me. I turned to him again.

"You know, you were really angry with me when I showed up at your house and now this is the second time that you've done it to me."

"Only the first time with this house, though. Now we're even."

He pulled me closer again and we started toward the house. I knew that he was right. It had been far too long and waiting longer wasn't going to make any easier. The more that I delayed the inevitable of going into the house, the more I was going to build it up in my head and create distance between myself and what stood behind the door. It had only been a few years, and yet I realized that I had started to forget some of the details of the inside of the house. I couldn't remember if Nana had put her spring throw pillows out or if the fireplace still had logs in it, I couldn't remember the color of the flowers on the wallpaper that she had chosen a few months before her death or if she had put the rug back down in the dining room after having it cleaned that year. They were details that were fairly inconsequential and would have likely meant nothing to anyone else, but to me, they loomed larger with every day that I didn't go inside. They reminded me that if I could forget those things, I would forget others. Maybe one day I would forget how her parlor looked or the way that she kept her kitchen. I might forget my bedroom or the pictures on the wall.

I let him bring me up the front sidewalk and onto the porch. It was the first time that I had gone beyond the sidewalk. I felt bad as I looked around the yard, at the tall grass and overgrown flower beds. It’s not how Nana had kept it but I just didn’t have the extra money to pay the landscapers.

"Do you have the key?" Jude asked.

I reached into my bag and pulled out my keychain. I touched the key that had been hanging there for four years. Over the years she had routinely changed the locks on the house every few months. Even after the trials were over. Even after the danger was gone. She said that she was doing it for me, but I knew deep inside me that she was doing it for herself. It was a way for her to assuage some of the guilt that she felt that she hadn't been able to protect us. There was no reason that she should have felt that way. She had no way of knowing that there was any danger, and even if there was, she couldn't have expected that she could protect us at every minute. Changing the locks had become her subtle, unspoken way to promise my father again and again that she would keep me safe.

"I've never taken it off my keychain," I told him.

"Do you want me to do it?"

I thought about the offer for a moment, then shook my head.

"No."

I pushed the key into the lock and turned it, mirroring what I had watched Jude do to the bedroom and the nursery at his house. As I stood on that porch, that evening felt like a lifetime ago. The lock turned more smoothly than I would have expected it to and I hesitated only a second before pushing the door open.

"Go ahead," Jude urged me.

I took a step inside the living room and a smile came to my lips. As much as I thought that I was forgetting, the memories now flooded back. It looked so much like it had when I was growing up, with only a few decorative touches showing how it had changed as I got older. I walked further into the room and turned to invite Jude in. He stepped in after me and looked around, taking it all in. I knew that it wasn't impressive. Nothing would be impressive to someone who grew up knowing that he would one day own a house like the mansion where he lived. But there was a smile on his face and he looked happy when his eyes fell on me.

"It's not much," I said.

"It's your childhood," he said. "It's a part of you. I think it's wonderful."

I drew in a breath and let it out.

"I do, too."

He walked up beside me, wrapping an arm around my waist.

"How do you feel? What's it like to be in here again?"

"I'm not sure," I said. "It's a lot. I don't really know what to think or how to feel. It's nice to be in here again and to see it. But I don't really want to go any further. I don't want to leave this room. If I do, I'm going to have to face that she's not in the kitchen or in her bedroom. Right now, I can pretend that she is. But if I got into those rooms, she's not."

"I know," he said. "I understand. But let's go anyway. Show me your house. Tell me about it. You don't have to move anything. You don't have to take anything out right now."

"Right now?" I asked.

"Well, I assume that you will eventually. Right? I mean, like you said, this is your house. So eventually you're going to live here. Or you're going to want to sell it. So, you'll have to eventually empty out your grandmother's belongings."

I felt myself bristle.

"Please don't push me."

"I'm not pushing you. I'm just pointing out a reality."

"Your reality," I said. "You're telling me what you think I should do, but I don't know what I want to do yet."

"I'm not telling you what I think you should do. I said that you might live here, or you might sell it. That's not telling you anything."

My phone rang in my bag and I pulled it out, glancing at the screen before silencing it and dropping it back in. Fueled by my frustration at Jude, I walked out of the living room into the hallway that led down toward the bedrooms. The phone rang again and I answered it.

"I'll be there in half an hour," I said. "I'm just finishing something up."

I felt Jude step around the corner as I returned the phone to my bag.

"Who was that?"

"No one," I said.

I continued down the hallway and stopped when I saw the framed picture on the wall in front of me. I reached up and ran my fingers down the glass, moving the dust away.

"Who was that, Veronica?" Jude asked, coming up behind me.

I stayed silent as I looked at the picture. My mother's eyes gleamed at me through the glass and my father's smile cut into me. That was something that I hadn't considered when I thought about the house and not going inside. My thoughts had been about my grandmother and not wanting to face those memories. I hadn't considered that by staying out of the house I was distancing myself even further from my family. I already knew that there was so much that I didn't remember about them. I couldn't remember the sound of my father's laugh or the way that my mother said my name. I didn't remember what my sister and I liked to play together.

But I remembered that I loved them.

My mourning had changed. For years it had been about losing the family that I had. Now it felt more that I was mourning what I could have had. I grieved for my mother never being able to teach me to do my makeup or bringing me to choose a prom dress. I grieved for my father never being able to teach me to drive or to meet a boyfriend. I grieved for my sister never growing up with me.

"I need to leave," I said.

"You just got here. You haven't even gone through the whole house."

"I don't need to," I said. "Not right now. I need to go."

I started back down the hallway and felt Jude grab my wrist. I turned to look at him.

"You need to do this, Veronica. It's good for you."

I shook my arm out of his grip and glared at him.

"You won't even walk into those rooms in your house, Jude. Don't tell me what I need to do."

I stalked out of the house and waited until Jude followed me to close the door and lock it. Not acknowledging him again, I got into the car with Aaron and asked him to bring me back to campus, so I could get to my car. Tears were stinging in my eyes as we put the house and Jude behind us and I tried to tell myself it was only for my grandmother and all that I had encountered in the house. But I knew there was more.

 

A cup of coffee was already waiting for me at the table when I got to the coffee shop. I dropped down at the table and tucked my bag beneath my feet.

"I'm sorry," I said. "Am I late?"

"No. I just went ahead and ordered for you."

"Thank you."

I took a sip of the coffee and looked at the cup as I swallowed.

"You don't like it?"

"It's a little sweet."

"Peanut butter and chocolate."

"In coffee?"

"It's apparently the special of the week. I personally think that they dropped a brownie in a pot and went with it."

"That might be a valid guess."

I put the cup back down and looked across the table. Michael smiled at me in the same slightly nervous way that he always did. This was only the third time that we had met up and I was hoping that he would get more comfortable with me soon. The last two times that I had seen him his dark hair had been pulled into a short, thick ponytail, but now it hung around his face, highlighting his emerald green eyes.

"Did you see him today?" he asked.

I sighed and nodded.

"Yeah. I actually just came from seeing him."

"How was he?"

"He seems so on edge. I don't know what's bothering him, but for the last couple of weeks he has been getting more and more aggressive."

"Aggressive?"

"It's not what it sounds like. He's not violent or anything. It just…"

"What?"

"He has always been demanding. That's just part of him. But the last few weeks I've felt like he's becoming more like that toward me. I like that he wants to spend time with me, but he's demanding more and more of it even though he knows that there are other things that I need to be doing."

"Does he know about me?"

"Not yet."

"When are you going to tell him?"

"I'm trying to figure out the right time. It seems like something's bothering him and I don't want to do it while that's going on."

"I understand," Michael said.

"I really appreciate you being so patient," I said. "I know it's probably hard for you. Thank you for not telling him."

Michael shrugged and shook his head.

"You know him," he said. "I don't. I wouldn't even know what to say to him. You'll know when it's right and when it'll be the best time."

I nodded and took another sip of the coffee. I grimaced as the sweet fluid went down my throat, thicker now that it was cool.

"I think that I'm just going to stick with black," I said.

I stayed with Michael at the coffee shop for another 10 minutes before rushing out to make it to the rehearsal space. There was a hint of guilt in the back of my mind knowing that I hadn't been upfront with Jude. It had just been easier to tell him that I needed to get to rehearsal each time that I had seen Michael. Like I had told Michael, it just wasn't the right time yet. I hoped that I would be able to make a difference in Jude's life, but as much as I didn't want to admit it, to him or to myself, I wondered just how much longer I could be a part of it.