Page 63 of Like the Season
“But…” She blinked, her eyes now looking a little too bright. “I don’t even have any pictures of Helen. She took them all with her when she left. We didn’t realize it then, because we hadn’t even finished unpacking. She even took pictures out of the frames.”
He swiped through his phone and found a particularly poignant picture of Helen and Ella at the Oregon shore, the Pacific Ocean behind them and both of them smiling, Helen hugging Ella.
“You mean, a picture like this?” He held up his phone as he walked toward her, hoping he was twisting the knife as hard as he thought he was. “Oh, I havelotsof pictures of Ella and Helen together, documenting the years I should have been a part of their lives.” He shook his head. “But you have no rights to them.”
“I-I demand you—”
He laughed, cutting her off. “Lady, you don’t get to demand jack shit. My next biggest regret, besides missing out on my daughter’s birth and childhood, is that Charles isn’t still alive so I can rub his face in this, too, before I punch him in the fucking jaw.” He turned away from her again and headed to the rental. “Oh,” he called out over his shoulder, “enjoy dying alone and unloved, you fucking cunt. You deserve it.”
Behind him, he heard Lisa burst into tears.
Nope. I’m not a nice guy. Not at all.
He barely spared her another glance as he climbed into his rental and pulled away. She was still standing there when he made the turn out of the trailer park and onto the main highway.
The rage that had slowly simmered inside him ever since the night Ella dropped the bomb on him at the restaurant finally began to cool.
And he still had an entire afternoon ahead of him before his flight home.
He stopped for Mexican for lunch, getting it to go. He ate it sitting in a nearby park and staring east toward the Sandia Mountains. He’d never been to this city before, and suspected he might never again.
Sorry, Helen. I don’t know if that’s how you would’ve wanted me to handle her, but it’s howIneeded to do it so it didn’t keep eating away at my soul.
He pulled his phone out and looked to see if there was an earlier flight back to Florida. Fortunately, there was, and it left in three hours.
He switched his ticket and grabbed the wrappers from his lunch and tossed them before sliding into his rental.
He felt…satisfied.
There was no way to make right what had happened, to regain what he’d lost, what Ella had lost.
What Helen had gone through.
But hewasgoing to be there for Lily and Ella. Him and Caleb both.
He’d had no other way to get past this.
Fuck being nice, being conciliatory.
Fuck being the bigger guy.
Fuck being a nice guy.
Fuck Helen’s parents.
* * * *
Boyd called Caleb as he sat at the gate and awaited the call to board his flight. Caleb must have been in private when he answered.
“Hello, Sir. How’s your errand going?”
“Completed far earlier than I imagined.” He sighed, closing his eyes and rubbing his forehead. “I’m going to be home earlier than I thought.”
“That’s good. Any idea what time? I can hold dinner for you.”
“No, don’t wait on me.” He had to admit it, with the tension released and his rage finally sated. “I’m in Albuquerque. At the airport. My flight boards soon.”
Caleb didn’t respond immediately. When he did, his tone sounded wary. “I don’t know of anything on your work calendar that would take you out there.”
