Page 39 of This Is How It Started
He finds me on the sidewalk in front. “Does tomorrow morning work for you?”
I go through the motions of checking my calendar. Why the pretext, I don’t know. It’s Campbell, for goodness’ sake. There was a time when he knew everything about me, even the things I didn’t know about myself.
“That’ll work,” I say, scrolling through days with no entries. “In the meantime, I’ll call the listing agent to see when she’s taking offers.” My hunch is that she’ll wait the usual two weeks, enough time to drum up a bidding war.
“Sounds good. I can do the inspection myself. Save time and a little money, though I’d like to get a roofer and a foundation expert in here.”
Ordinarily that would be my job, but I don’t know any roofers or foundation people. “You have anyone in mind, or would you like me to get them?” I can always ask Chip or someone else at Windham for recommendations.
“I got a buddy who’s a foundation guy, and I’m sure my pop knows a good roofer. I’ll handle it.” He reaches over and touches my shoulder. “Thanks for doing this on such short notice. Jess and I can’t tell you how happy we are to have you looking out for us.”
“Of course,” I say and turn away. “Should we get going, or do you want to go back inside for another look?”
To my relief, he says I can lock up. I do a quick walk-through to make sure the lights are out and the windows are closed, leave my card on the kitchen counter, and put the key back in the lockbox.
The first half of our trip back to Pacific Heights, we ride in silence. Then Campbell asks about the construction crew that was parked in the driveway when he picked me up.
“Brooke is expanding the pool house.”
He lifts a brow, and I know exactly what he’s thinking. Everything he knows about Brooke he’s heard from me and Adam.
“She wants to rent it out to traveling nurses or put it on Vrbo,” I say.
Now both brows wing up. “Why?”
“I don’t know for sure, but I think she’s strapped for cash. Either that or she’s entrepreneurial. She’s got the guest cottage rented out almost every weekend.”
“I guess it’s a big house for one person...two...” He smiles, and those dimples make another command appearance. “May as well put it to work.”
“I guess,” I say but still feel a little creepy about it. I’ll always think of the house as my family home, not as a hotel. “How are the wedding plans coming?” I ask, partly to change the subject and partly because I haven’t asked and I know I should.
“That’s Jess and her mom’s bailiwick. I’m just along for the ride.” He gives me a sideways glance. “Are we ever going to talk about the day it happened?”
At first, I think he’s talking about seventeen years ago, and my heart stops. Then I quickly realize he’s referring to the day Josh died.
“There’s nothing really to talk about.” Other than the fact that it was the worst day of my life, worse than even the other worst day of my life.
“You sure?” He slides me another glance. “Because these last months, I feel like you’ve gone out of your way to avoid me.”
“Not just you, Campbell, everyone.” Which is the God’s honest truth. “My husband died,” I say with a tremor in my voice, as if he needs reminding.
The cab of his truck fills with silence. The only sound is the purr of the heater.
“I wanted to be there for you,” he finally says.
Like you were when we lost our baby?
I silently berate myself for being unreasonable. We’re both to blame for the way things ended between us, though I guess at the back of my mind, at least then, I’d thought our breakup was a temporary thing. That we were fated to be together and were simply spreading our wings. But the more time went on, the more he felt lost to me. And I missed him. I missed what we used to be. By the time he’d left for school, the gulf between us had deepened to the point where I didn’t even know him anymore.
He’d come home some weekends and on holidays and go out of his way to avoid me. The only reason I knew he was home was from Adam. I’d leave him messages, asking if he wanted to meet up at our favorite pho place or go out for ice cream, and he wouldn’t return the calls. Twice, I got Hannah or Josie to drive me to his house, where Mr. Scott told me he wasn’t home, even though I knew he was.
Once, I saw him at the Westfield Shopping Centre downtown. And for a second, it was like seeing the old Campbell, the boy I’d loved since I was twelve years old, the boy I’d given my heart. I started to go toward him, and that’s when I saw what made me know that we were never getting back together again. He was with a girl, which alone wouldn’t have been enough for me to give up on him. It was the way he was looking at her. It was the same way he used to look at me. And that’s how I knew that we were over. That what we once had was history.
I remember crying for a month straight and climbing into the tree house so many times that I could navigate the crude wooden ladder in my sleep. For hours I would sit in the branches, writing Campbell letters. Love letters, hate letters, and everything in between. My pride kept me from mailing them, thank God. But it was a long time before I could even so much as glance at another guy, my heart never stopped beating for Campbell.
Around my sophomore year at San Diego State, I reluctantly began to date again, but nothing ever stuck until Josh.
It wasn’t until after college that Campbell and I started talking again. I was studying for my real estate exam, and he came over to the house to hang out with Adam. I wouldn’t say we picked up right where we left off, but we fell into that easy way that people who have grown up with each other have. I was seeing a guy named Warner at the time and was pretty into him. Still, a part of me wasn’t over Campbell. You never get over your first. Isn’t that what they say?
