Page 10 of Steadfast
It had been my first Jude lie. But not my last.
“Sophie,” my father brought me into the present and out of my reverie again. I was having a lot of those this week. “Did you know that punk was back in town? Has he tried to contact you?”
I shook my head. “I only learned it by accident. If you’re so worried, why didn’t you warn me? Seriously. I could have used a heads up.”
My father grunted. “Because I hoped he wouldn’t stay.”
“I won’t be seeing him,” I promised. Not that I owed my father anything. But he was easier to live with when he thought you were on board with his wishes. And Jude’s silence had made it perfectly clear that we didn’t know each other anymore.
“He’s slick,” my father said, serving a portion of lasagna onto his own plate. “He’ll tempt you.”
My inner seventeen-year-old wanted to roll her eyes. Dad had cast Jude as the serpent in the garden from minute one. After it became obvious that Jude and I were dating, he’d warned me away. My brother had been his ally in this war, ratting me out when he saw Jude and I together.
“What do you want with that loser?” my brother had asked. “Skinny asshole thinks he’s God’s gift. I could drop him with a single punch.”
I’d never listened to either of them. Because even though Jude coaxed me into doing a whole lot of things that would have turned Dad’s hair white, he was a devoted boyfriend. And Judelistenedto me, the way my parents never did.
My senior year had been rocky at home, with my father on a tear all the time. It was the first time in my life when I hadn’t cared what my father thought, and that drove him crazy. Even though I knew that listening to my own heart was important, Dad’s disapproval was still hard on me. It bothered me that he’d always loved Gavin best, because Gavin was the lacrosse jock. My brother wasn’t a nice person, but still our father saw him as the perfect son.
And that wasbeforeGavin’s death. Now? My father could barely stand to be in the same room with me. Forking lasagna into his mouth, he gave me a familiar warning glare.
There was a knock on the front door.Denny to the rescue!“Got to go!” I said. My father actually followed me to the door. “Jesus, Dad. I’m almost twenty-three.”
Ignoring my objections, he swung the door open to reveal Denny standing there in khakis and a turtleneck sweater. He looked like the very model of an acceptable date.
I pushed past my father, which probably made me look rude. But when your father treats you like a teenager forever, these things happen. “Bye, Dad!” I said at the same moment that Denny opened his mouth to greet my father. Grabbing Denny’s hand, I tugged him off the porch.
“In a hurry?” Denny muttered, jogging ahead of me to open the car door.
“Yep. Thanks.” I got in and pulled the door shut.
He climbed into the driver’s seat. “Did your father just give me the once over?” he laughed. “That’s kind of cute.”
“No, it really isn’t.”
“Well at least he cares,” Denny said.
I didn’t want to argue with Denny. “I guess.”
He flicked his eyes over to me. “You think he doesn’t?”
I held in my sigh. “I think he likes reminding me that I have shitty judgment. It was me who brought the Evil One into our midst,” I explained. “He’s never going to forgive me. Every morning I ask myself why I’m still living here. And then my mother does something dotty and I feel guilty enough to make it through another day.”
Denny’s voice dropped. “I’m sorry.” He was easy to talk to, and I was glad to have a friend at work. I wasn’t attracted to him, though. Not even a little. I really shouldn’t have agreed to see him tonight.
We rode in silence for a minute, and I stared out the window. I looked for Jude, of course. It wasn’t rational, but a broken heart never is. Maybe this would be the shove I needed to leave town. When the hospital gave Denny the full-time spot, there would be nothing left for me here except the knowledge that the only man I’d ever loved was walking around out there somewhere. I’d be on edge every day of my life.
Inevitably, one of those eventual sightings of Jude would be him in a parked car, lip-locked to some other girl. That was going to sting.
I didn’t want to live like this—full of confusion and guilt all the time, and heartbroken in a hundred ways at once. I didn’tmeanto hold a torch for someone who had broken my family, gone to jail and then refused all my letters.
But even a glimpse of him had given me palpitations. As if my subconscious had recognized a piece of my soul before my brain got a chance to speak up.
Last night I’d lain awake just knowing that he was less than a mile away. He was probably in his old bed, where we used to steal away to make love. My freshman year of college, he’d drive to Burlington every Friday to fetch me for the weekend. We’d spend Saturday in his bed, exhausting ourselves. Iachedremembering those times. The way he’d smile at me, hovering over me in bed. We were so hot and heavy he could just cast a gaze in my direction and I’d feel desire.
Those were the good times. If I wanted to stay sane, I’d have to remember the bad times, too. The times when he showed up late. Or when he’d take me to a party and disappear, only to reappear with jumpy eyes.
The night he didn’t show up at all.
