Chapter 58

Andrew

I drove around the block one more time. And then another.

“Shit,” I spat, yanking the wheel and sending my car into Lanie’s parking lot at the last possible second. The car behind me honked, but I ignored it, slowing down and cruising past Lanie’s apartment building.

Like a stalker.

Because I was still too chicken to call her.

It was a day past Christmas, and I hadn’t been able to fix things for Raven as a Christmas present, as she’d requested. Instead, I’d twiddled my thumbs and thought about things and then thought about things some more.

I wanted to fix everything I’d fucked up, but where did I begin? No doubt Lanie hated my guts and never wanted to hear from me again. I couldn’t blame her for that.

Even if she didn’t hate me, at the best, she was hurt. Nothing I could ever say would fix what I’d done to her. “Sorry” only went so far—especially when you’d hurt a person before.

When we’d discovered that my closest friend was also her father, I’d been the one to suggest we take a break from dating. Weeks after that, I kicked her out of the hospital and banned her from seeing Raven. And then I broke up with her.

At this point, I really had a notable track record going.

Turning around at the end of the parking lot, I drove past Lanie’s again, this time looking for her car.

There it was. Parked a few spots down from her front door. I hadn’t noticed it before because I’d been too fixated on her windows. Yep, like a real creeper.

A woman walking a Chihuahua stopped to stare at me, a frown on her face. I gave her a friendly smile and pulled into an empty spot Lanie couldn’t see from her windows.

I better do this before someone calls the cops on me for lurking.

I couldn’t move, though. Not to turn off the engine and not to open the door. My ass was sealed to the seat, and the more I thought about knocking on Lanie’s door, the more I wanted to run to the bushes and hurl.

What was I going to say? Maybe I should have written a speech down.

No, that’s fucking dumb. I can’t read her an apology off a sheet of paper.

“Damn,” I muttered, looking into my rearview mirror. I could just see Lanie’s living room window from where I sat. Did she still have the painting I bought her? Or had she tossed it into the dumpster at the end of this parking lot?

I’d never gotten to spend much time at her apartment, and the thought caused my heart to ache now. There was so much we still needed to do. Big things and little. I wanted to take her to the Florida Keys, to the little mom and pop bed and breakfast there that I’d visited once eight years ago and always vowed I’d return to. I wanted to experience spring together. Summer. To drive her and Raven to the farm outside of the city that shot off fireworks on the Fourth of July.

I wanted to live together, to love without reservations and worries, to know that, no matter what else was going wrong, we were each other’s rocks.

How did I put all of that into words in a way that didn’t make me look like I was waffling?

Because I wasn’t. Raven had made me see the light. I needed and wanted Lanie back. For good.

And still my legs were lead, and my stomach twisted like a pile of snakes.

Dropping my face into my palms, I sighed. I had to get out of that parking lot.

Backing out of the parking spot, I pulled back onto the road. The evening was crystal clear, cold but with no forecast for any more snow.

I needed a drink, and they didn’t sell the kind I had a craving for at the hospital coffee bar.

At the country club, I did another quick parking lot survey—this time, checking for Bob’s car. He didn’t come to the club much, but on the rare chance that he was here, I wanted to avoid any questions about Lanie. I still couldn’t know for sure whether she’d told him anything about us, but I didn’t want to bring the subject up, and I didn’t want to lie to my friend.

Finding the coast clear, I headed inside. All the Christmas decorations were still up, ceiling-scraping tree included. Passing through the lobby, I hit the bar and ordered a bourbon just as my phone rang.

“Everything okay?” I answered right away.

“Geez, yeah,” Raven responded. “Calm down.”

I pursed my lips and took a seat on the bar stool. Considering my teenage daughter hadn’t even been out of a coma for a week, I had plenty of reasons to be concerned every time my phone rang.

“I’ll be back at the hospital in less than an hour,” I told her, swirling the liquid in my glass around. “Do you want me to bring anything?”

Raven sighed. “It’s so boring here. I have cabin flu.”

“Cabin fever,” I corrected.

“Whatever.”

“How about I stop at the library and find you something to read?”

“The library is closed,” she pointed out. “It’s the day after Christmas.”

“Oh.”

“Did you talk to Lanie yet?”

“Um—”

“Dad! You didn’t talk to Lanie?”

I took a hearty gulp of the bourbon, never mind the burn. “I’m going to, Raven.”

“What have you been doing all afternoon?”

Playing spy.

“Errands,” I lied.

She guffawed. “You don’t do your own errands. You’re rich.”

I ignored that comment, true as it was, and took another drink of my bourbon before standing. “I’m on my way to you now.”

The line was silent as I crossed into the club’s lobby.

“Are you really going to talk to her?” Raven asked sadly.

The pain in her voice made me halt at the door, hand on the glass. “Yes,” I promised, truly meaning it. “I’ll see you in a little bit.”

“Bye,” she said quietly.

I kept my phone out as I walked to my car. No more pussyfooting around. It was time to fix what I’d so royally fucked up or at least take the first step toward doing so.

With the car idling, I called Lanie before I had time to become more nervous. With each ring, I thought about hanging up, but I stuck with it. This was what I wanted, no matter how much reaching out scared me.

“Hello?” Lanie answered, her voice uncertain. At the sound of it, my heart cracked in two. God, I’d missed that voice.

“Lanie,” I rasped.

“Yeah?”

I bit down on my bottom lip. What did I say first? I miss you? I love you? I’m the biggest idiot in the whole wide world?

I settled with, “How are you?”

“I’m okay. How are you?”

The simple question made my mind race. This conversation was even harder than I’d expected it to be, and that was saying a lot.

“I’m all right. How was your Christmas?”

“Standard.” She paused. “Is everything okay? Is Raven all right?”

It warmed my heart to have that be her first real question. It just confirmed what Raven had said and I already knew deep down. Lanie truly loved and cared for my daughter.

“She’s fine,” I said. “They moved her out of the ICU and are keeping her in for a few more weeks for monitoring, but after that, she’ll be able to go home.”

“That’s good,” she murmured, sounding relieved.

I looked down at my lap. “I should have called you when she woke up.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I figured Bob would tell you, that it was for the best if we didn’t talk.”

“Right.” The word was crisp. “Not to be mean, Andrew, but why are we talking now?”

“Because I …” The next words froze on my tongue. I want you back. I made a mistake.

I had to say them, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it then. Not like that. Not on the phone.

For a brief second, I considered asking if I could come over, but I’d already promised Raven I’d be at the hospital soon.

“Because Raven has been asking about you,” I lamely answered.

More silence.

“Okay,” Lanie said. Her response was tentative. She was waiting for me to do the necessary explaining.

Now that we were on the subject, the words just flew from me. “She started asking about you the day she woke up. I’m sorry. I should have called you and let you know. I’m just a fucking idiot sometimes, Lanie.” Sighing, I covered my eyes with my palm.

She didn’t say anything.

“I guess your silence means you agree?” I asked.

She laughed. It was short and dry, but still, it was a laugh. “Are you inviting me to see her?”

“Yes. Please.”

“I want to see her,” she said slowly. “I really do. And I agree, it wasn’t right for you to keep me from her, but I understand why you felt you needed to.”

The words were kinder than I deserved. Lanie was kinder than I deserved, but I’d always known that.

“Can you come tomorrow?”

“What time?”

“Whenever,” I quickly answered, wondering what she had going on the next day. Who was she spending her time with now? She hadn’t found another guy already, had she?

Before I could chastise myself for the paranoid thinking, she answered. “I can stop by sometime in the evening.”

“That’s great. Raven will be excited.”

“Good.”

I swallowed, not wanting the conversation to end. “Lanie.”

“Uh-huh?”

Again, I just couldn’t do it. Not yet.

“Raven’s really looking forward to it.”

“Me too. Bye.”

“Goodbye,” I blurted. She’d already hung up, though.

Gut heavy, I drove to the hospital. On the way, I stopped at a drugstore—one of the few places open—and picked up a paperback romance sci-fi novel and a couple magazines like the one Lanie had read to Raven. She’d already made it abundantly clear she never wanted to hear a word from The Wall Street Journal again.

“Well?” Raven asked the second I entered her room.

“No hello? I got you these.” I put the reading materials on her bed.

She frowned down at the book. “Pandora and the Fight for Mandoon?”

“Like you said, the libraries aren’t open.” I took my usual spot on the couch. It folded out at night, so I’d been sleeping there with a pillow and scratchy hospital blanket. Not what I preferred, but it got the job done. “By the way, Lanie is coming to visit you tomorrow evening. Is that all right?”

Raven’s eyes widened. “So you did talk to her.”

“Yes, but I didn’t say anything about our relationship. Mine and hers, I mean. So don’t mention it, okay?”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I need to wait until the right time. You understand that, right?”

“I guess.” She picked at the edge of the paperback novel.

“It has to be … it has to be right, Raven.”

“Okay.” When she looked back at me, there was new understanding in her eyes.

“Okay,” I echoed, leaning back into the couch.

“Did you bring me anything else from the drugstore?”

“Like what?” I teased.

She groaned. “I’m dying here. You know what this hospital food is like.”

I pulled the hidden candy bar from my coat pocket. “It has to be healthier than this.”

“I don’t care. I need chocolate. Now.”

Handing her the candy, I opened the email app on my phone, just to check in. Since Raven was doing better, I’d resumed a bit of a presence at work—though nothing like what it used to be. I’d prolonged my absence, actually. I wasn’t setting foot in the offices until she was out of the hospital.

I’d changed. She’d changed. I could see it in her eyes.

I wanted to show Lanie the new us. As soon as I gathered the courage to do just that.