Unveiling Ghosts (Unveiling Series, Book 3) Page 3

  In the end, that was all guilt really was… us wishing to be bigger than the universe.

  We weren’t.

  We were small and insignificant. We were pawns in fate’s game.

  With the last of my tears having dried, I stood up and brushed the grass from my jeans. I felt unsteady as I made my way back to the cab. My heart didn’t feel settled and my brain was still running on overdrive, remembering the past and trying to predict the future.

  But right now I only needed to focus on one thing, and that was the pink-haired cabbie rocking out to Simon and Garfunkel, about to bring me one step closer to Hunter. To home.

  THERE WASN’T A DAY that went by when I didn’t think about her, when I didn’t miss and love her, when I didn’t wonder what she was doing or if she was thinking about me, too. The way I’d left her would forever be the worst thing I’d done, even if it was for the right reasons.

  But she wasn’t the only one I’d left.

  There hadn’t been many people in my life; apart from Sherry and her family, there had only been one other person: Maria. She was the owner of The Well, a local bar where I had worked as a busboy in high school. I had left without saying a word to her, staying silent for a year before reaching out three years ago.

  After leaving Sherry’s and my roof last night, I went to see Maria at The Well. I immediately regretted it when I walked in and, like a cheesy movie, all eyes turned to me. I didn’t stay long; I wasn’t interested in feeding into the gossip. Especially considering how tactless the questions were.

  What really happened four years ago?

  Where have you been all these years?

  What happened to you and Sherry?

  How did your father die?

  I wasn’t sure what people found so interesting about a middle-aged man dying of a heart attack. But the questions went on and on and on. I dismissed all of them. I didn’t owe them any answers. After it became clear I wasn’t going to talk about any of it, I hoped the gossip mill would spread the word and people would stop coming up to me.

  Maria saw the amount of attention I was getting and asked if I would prefer to come back today before they opened. It was an easy decision.

  So here I stood. It was eleven in the morning and Maria was here early doing inventory. I’d just knocked and was waiting for her to let me in. She flung the door open a minute later. Standing at about five foot six and a little round in the stomach, she was the kind of woman who made you feel warm and welcomed with only a glance.

  My old boss smiled as she grabbed my head and gave each cheek a kiss.

  “Oh dear, I still can’t believe you’re here. It’s so good to see you. Talking over the phone wasn’t enough.” Maria squeezed my arm. “Have you seen Thomas yet?”

  I shut and locked the door while Maria walked toward the bar, perfectly tidy and clean except for a bunch of spread-out papers and a laptop.

  “Not yet. I actually have a meeting with him in an hour. We have to discuss my father’s affairs.” Maria frowned and walked behind the bar. She slid a glass full of soda to me before coming back around.

  “I’d say I’m sorry for your loss, but I know that’s not what’s troubling you,” she said. We both sat down, our eyes on the alcohol across from us.

  “Never could get much by you.”

  Even though I wasn’t looking at her, I could feel her smile brightening the room when she said, “‘Course not. I’m brilliant.”

  “I don’t know what to do,” I whispered, unable to keep the jovial atmosphere.

  She hummed softly. “What do you want to do?”

  I shook my head and turned toward her. “That’s not important.”

  “Not important?” She scoffed. “Honey, at this point it’s about the only thing that is.”

  “So my wants are all that matter? Not hers? Not the past? Not what’s best for her?”

  She looked at me like I was stupid. “Of course those things matter. But you can’t take your second or third step if you don’t take the first. And the first step is figuring out what you want.”

  That sentence seemed like such an oxymoron. Wanting something was so basic; no one ever had to “figure out” what they wanted. It was all the other stuff that complicated it.

  “I don’t need to figure out what I want. I want Sherry. Always have. Always will.” Maria started smiling and opened her mouth to speak before I silenced her with a raised hand. “But what would be the point of taking that first step if I’m standing on the edge of a cliff? If I know the second and third step will just be air that will leave me falling into an abyss?”

  “Hmm… yes… that makes complete sense.” I was nodding until she finished with, “If you were psychic. But you don’t know that you’re on a cliff. You have no way of knowing how Sherry feels, what she wants, or what’s best for her. The only way you’re truly going to know is if you go to her,” she implored.

  I blew out a breath. “And if she’s still with that guy? If she hates me and wants nothing to do with me?” I hadn’t kept anything from Maria and she never needed reminding—somehow we were on the same page, even though we hadn’t seen each other in four years.

  “Ahh… so the truth comes out. It’s all about fear.”

  My eyes were focused on my soda. “Isn’t everything?”

  “No, it’s not. And honestly, if your fear is greater than your love for her, then you’re absolutely right. Sherry does deserve better.”

  My breathing stalled before I found a way to toss out a joke. “Aren’t you supposed to say nothing but nice and encouraging things?”

  “The only encouraging words are truthful words, and truthful words aren’t always pretty or nice or easy to hear.” She smiled as she got up and wrapped me in her arms.

  “When you left Sherry and stayed away for four years, you did it thinking you were protecting her. But you did that without consulting her, and even though I know your heart was in the right place, it wasn’t fair. Don’t do that again. Your father is gone; you no longer have that excuse. If you stay away now it will be pointless,” she whispered, imploring me to rise above my fear.

  “Just think about it,” she finished.

  I could laugh. All I had done for the last four years was think. But maybe that was the problem—maybe the time for thinking was done. It was time for doing.

  “Knock, knock.”

  I was leaning against the doorframe when Maria looked up from another stack of papers. It was three o’clock and the bar was getting ready to open at four. I’d just finished seeing Thomas, and after a three-hour discussion about my father, I had been more than ready to fall face-first down on my bed and take a long nap. But Maria had left me an almost frantic voice mail asking that I swing by before three thirty.

  “Oh, good, you’re here.”

  She seemed uncharacteristically nervous. I tried to shrug it off. “Yeah. Did you need me to cover for someone tonight?” I’d made sure she knew that if she was short-staffed while I was here, I could help.

  “Oh, no, no, dear. I’m quite set. Thank you. I was wondering if you could do me a favor though?”

  “Anything for you.”

  “I’m hungry, but the cooks won’t be in for another half hour. Would you mind stopping by Stevie’s for me?”

  “Sure,” I said slowly, my voice laced with suspicion. I hadn’t stepped foot in that diner since I’d been back. And Maria knew it. She knew I was avoiding almost everything about this town. “What’ll you have?” I asked.

  “Oh, anything’s fine, dear. I trust you’ll make the right decision when you get there.”

  “Okayyy…” I trailed off. She grinned as I shook my head and shot her a questioning look. Her wording was off, yet I couldn’t imagine what she was implying. Then I remembered there was something else I’d wanted to tell her. “Oh, I also wanted to give you a heads-up that I’ll probably be leaving in a day or two. I think this place has seen enough of me.”

  “Tsk tsk. You know that’s not true
. But I respect your decision.”

  Today was full of surprises; Maria, while I loved her, was never one to “respect” a decision if she disagreed with it.

  “Where will you go?” she asked cautiously.

  Everything was wide open, my options were limitless. I could do anything I wanted.

  I wanted Sherry.

  Maria clapped and whooped at the smile I gave in response.

  “I’ll be back in a bit.”

  She shrugged. “I’ll see ya when I see ya.”

  I shook off how weird Maria was being once more. Now that I’d made the decision to find Sherry, little could get me down.

  I made my way to Stevie’s in no time, green light after green light propelling me forward, getting me there faster than seemed possible.

  Parking my motorcycle across the street directly in front of the diner, I swung my leg over and stood there. My breath stalled. This was more painful than I’d imagined. After looking at the sign, my eyes were pulled toward the window right next to our favorite booth. The seats were empty, but the table was filled with all sorts of food. I was stunned when I realized they were all my favorites. Things Sherry and I had ordered whenever we came here.

  I was still frozen outside when the bathroom door opened, just a couple tables down from the booth.

  Time stood still and my jaw dropped.

  She looked different, but she was still the most beautiful girl in the world.

  Her strawberry-blonde hair was longer and darker now, more like the color of cranberries and falling a few inches below her chest. The contrast to her pale complexion made her seem strikingly fair, and I could only imagine how brilliant her bright green eyes would look up close.

  Her gaze was on the floor. She was probably avoiding people just like I was. Thomas had told me she had come back a few times over the years, and people were always trying to talk to her about that night.

  I swallowed roughly and my palms started to sweat. How was she still this impossibly beautiful? It didn’t seem right when she sat down at the table, alone.

  My heart stopped at the thought before quickly careening off a cliff. What if she wasn’t alone? What if she was still with him?

  I felt sick.

  The plan to fight for her was a lot easier to imagine when we were almost fifteen hundred miles apart. It gave me time to think about what I was going to say and how I was going to explain everything. I also needed that time to figure out how I was going to handle things if she hated me.

  Except now she was right there. How could I walk away?

  Closing my eyes, I thought of that night four years ago, and my decision was easily made.

  Ready or not, I was facing her now.

  Boyfriend or not. Husband or not. Anything or not.

  She was here. I couldn’t walk away from her again. She was too close. When I’d made that decision years ago, I had been suffocating under the pain of that night with the threat of danger hanging over us. Right now, I had no excuse.

  I was feeling something I had been too numb to feel that night. My heart. The crushing, agonizing feeling of leaving my heart behind.

  My feet knew what my fear didn’t. That, like a magnet, once I’d gotten close enough to her, I had no choice but to move closer.

  After visiting the cemetery last night, I was drained. I checked into a hotel, took the quickest shower of my life, and fell into bed. Then, as if four years of restlessness caught up with me, I closed my eyes and didn’t open them until well into the afternoon.

  I really had no idea where to start, but when my stomach growled I decided to brave Stevie’s, one of the few places I hadn’t been back to in four years. I’d stepped inside and immediately looked toward our booth. When I saw it was empty, I hurried over and settled in before reverently running my palms over the table.

  The waitress came over a few seconds later, beaming and asking for my order. I didn’t even need a menu, I just ordered all our favorite things. She looked at me like I was crazy, ordering enough food for four, but I couldn’t be bothered to care.

  The food had just arrived when I heard my name.

  “Sherry?” a voice asked, full of wonder and excitement. I looked up and saw the familiar face behind the voice. Maria Mayberry, the woman who owned the local bar Hunter had worked at in high school.

  “Hi, Mrs. Mayberry.”

  “Oh hush with that,” she chided, coming closer. “Get up, get up. Let me get a good look at you.”

  I smiled, the most sincere one since I’d arrived. Her own grin looked a little manic as I scooted out of the booth and stood up for her inspection.

  “Oh, dear. You’re beautiful.” Maria grabbed my arms and held them out to the side. I didn’t know what she found so beautiful. My attire consisted of a simple, plain black T-shirt and jean shorts. I’d also left most of my makeup at home, which was very strange for me—I usually left the house all done up. But I didn’t care. There was only one thing driving me.

  So here I stood, simple, plain, and bare-faced, with hair that was a little wild from sleeping on it while it had still been wet, being called “beautiful.”

  “Are you overdue to see the optometrist, Maria?”

  She slapped my arm and we both laughed. Hers quickly tapered. “I’m talking about in here, dear,” she said as she put her hand over my heart. “But, yes, you look lovely as well.” Maria moved her hand to tuck a piece of hair behind my ear.

  “Thanks, Maria.”

  There was a knowing spark in her eyes when she glanced outside. “What brings you back here?”

  “I… uh… I saw the article about Richard’s heart attack and… Hunter.” Breathing was suddenly difficult. “He’s… is he really back?” I was still waiting for someone to pull the rug out from under me.

  “Yes, dear, he is.” Smiling softly, she continued, “Are you waiting for him?”

  “I don’t know where he is. I don’t… I don’t really know anything. I don’t know what happened, where he was, where he is now, what I should do…”

  Maria cut off my ramble by wrapping her arms around me. “Shh… you’ll find each other. Why don’t you just wait here a little bit longer, okay?”

  I agreed, even as I started thinking of the other places I could begin looking.

  “Promise me.” She pulled back and held my shoulders at arm’s length. “Promise me you’ll stay here until…” She trailed off and looked at the clock on the wall which read 1:08 p.m. “At least four o’clock.”

  I frowned. That was almost three hours I’d lose when I could be looking for him. But she seemed so desperate…

  “Sure, Maria,” I said, despite my reluctance. “I’ll wait till four. But not a minute longer.”

  “Fair enough, dear.” She squeezed my shoulders and pulled me forward to give me a kiss on each cheek. “You be well. I’ll see you again, right?”

  “Yeah, of course.”

  She was clearly satisfied as she nodded and walked out the door.

  I sat there for two and a half hours before I finally had to go to the bathroom. The food was untouched. I only drank water, spending my time looking out the window and watching life go by. Eventually I just looked at the table when the stares from townsfolk started to get to me.

  Exiting the bathroom, I kept my eyes down until I reached the table. I was looking at the full plate of bacon when I felt a tug. A weird and unexplainable tug… on my heart, begging me to look up. And when I did, I froze.

  He was standing right there outside the diner, staring at me.

  “Hunter.” His name was barely a sound. It was all my love in a word.

  Despite the article and Maria’s assurance he was back, I hadn’t fully let myself believe it.

  But he was here.

  And I was here.

  I finally found him.

  He finally found me.

  I snapped out of my paralysis, a tiny cry leaving me. I slowly shoved out of my seat and walked to the exit. “Sorry,” I mumbled as I bumpe
d into a group of teenagers on their way in.

  Hunter was still looking straight at me. For the first time in four years, I felt whole. “Hunter,” I whispered again.

  I hated looking away from him, but finding him wouldn’t mean anything if I ended up getting hit by a car. I checked both ways and saw it was clear before stepping into the street.

  We slowly began walking toward each other. There was no joyfully rushing. No running and jumping into one another’s arms. There was no impulse. It was purposeful. We stalked toward each other like this was the only thing we wanted.

  In this instance, nothing else mattered. Not that he left and never came back for me. Not that everything was screwed up. Not that we’d lost four years of time together.

  Right now the only thing of importance was the two of us.

  We didn’t stop, even as we practically slammed into each other, our arms immediately locking us together.

  “Sherry…” he whispered, his tone reverent and warm. And for the first time in four years, I felt at home.

  10 years old

  THE FIRST TIME I saw him I was sitting on the bench by our kitchen window.

  I’d just looked up from my book, wiping my nose with the back of my hand as I sniffled. I didn’t want to be reading. I wanted to be getting ready for my party.

  It was my tenth birthday and all my friends were coming over. Except Ashley. She wasn’t my friend anymore because she called me mean names and I didn’t like that. So only my bestest of friends were invited. Friends who didn’t call me mean names.

  But Mom said even though it was my birthday, I still had to read. I usually sat in my reading corner next to Dad’s desk, but for my birthday she let me sit by the window. She even let me put my pretty pink dress, which had a big sparkly bow in the middle, on early.

  And that was how I saw him.

  He was very fast—so fast I almost missed him. But I didn’t. I promised I didn’t. Mom and Dad didn’t believe me when I told them about the boy who ran through our backyard. They told me it was fine to have an imaginary friend, but it wasn’t nice to make up stories because no one would believe me when a story was true.