Mountain Man

  “I can always tell when you’re lying, you know,” Janet started. “You have tells.”

  “I don’t want you putting your nose where it doesn’t belong. As far as you and I are concerned, if the child is mine, that’s the only connection we have. Until the time that that can be proven, we are nothing to each other.”

  “It’s been a great visit, Will,” she said casually as a small smile spread across her face. There was nothing pleasant about her smile though. It was cruel and vindictive, and I could see it in the steel glint of her eyes, and the way her fingers dug into her palms resolutely.

  “I’ll say it again, Janet. Delilah is off limits,” I warned, testily.

  Especially after today, after I’d left Angel alone and hurting. Yes, I needed to talk to Angel as soon as possible.

  “So you are seeing her,” she accused as her eyes grew wide with surprise.

  “My relationship or lack thereof with Delilah is not your concern.”

  “You’re seeing her, aren’t you?” she insisted, an ugly expression taking hold of her face.

  “What is it that you want, Janet? Because I don’t buy it for a second that you want us to be a family. Money, is that it?”

  The silence stretched between us. And the silence was telling. That was exactly the reason she was here.

  “Well, I’m sorry you had to come all this way because the truth is, there isn’t any money. My lifestyle is different now, it’s nothing fancy. I live a meager existence and I’m happy with that.”

  Janet jutted out her chin defiantly. “How could you even suggest that that’s the reason I’m here?”

  “Because I know you,” I said, stonily.

  “You think you know me,” she spat back at me. “But I’ve changed. And I want to make good on my past wrongs. You happened to be at the top of the list,” she pressed.

  “Well, consider this making good, and now you can move on to the next person on your list.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Delilah

  It took a great amount of self-control to keep from slamming my car door because anger was spiraling through me almost uncontrollably. But it wasn’t the car’s fault that I was hurting. And it wasn’t even William’s fault. It was my own fault. I’d pushed the envelope, and now I was paying for it.

  I’d gone and told him I loved him, and it had obviously scared him. Probably that and the fact that I’d allowed him to take my virginity. He probably figured he had a silly, lovesick, inexperienced little fool who was going to tail after him like a little puppy.

  The whole thing was completely embarrassing, and as I drove down Peak Mountain and headed into Marshall Heights to go back home, I was doing so with my head hung low.

  I desperately wished I could rewind the clock and keep myself from going to William’s house and throwing myself at him. Maybe then I wouldn’t feel this gaping hole in my chest that pulsated and twinged painfully whenever I thought of him and what we’d just done and how he’d basically walked out on me as soon as it was over.

  I wanted to yank my heart out of my chest and bury it somewhere where it couldn’t interfere with my life ever gain. As it was, it just continued to throb painfully while I cursed it and reminded it that its only job was to pump blood not get involved in anything else.

  When I pulled up to my house and opened the garage, I felt like I would soon be safe. I could lick my wounds in private and try to put the recent past behind me. I wasn’t sure how difficult that was going to be, but at the moment, it felt like an extremely tall order.

  I turned the car off and listened to the garage door as it closed behind me. Then I opened the door and stood up. My feet felt like lead as I placed one foot in front of the other, propelling myself through the garage and into the house. I took a deep breath and carefully unlocked the door, hoping my mother would be taking a nap because I really didn’t want to have to explain why I was so upset.

  When I walked into my living room, I noticed my mother wasn’t sitting in her chair by the fireplace so I figured she was napping. Hopefully I hadn’t woken her up. The last thing I needed was to be peppered with questions about where I was, and why my eyes were red and puffy.

  I lightly tiptoed down the hall to check on my mother, who was curled up in a ball softly sleeping on her bed. I started to close the door so I could retire into the comfort and safety of my own room when I heard her stirring on the bed.

  “Delilah?” she asked as she sat up and turned around to face me.

  “Hi Mom, how are you feeling?” I asked, not bothering to enter her room because I didn’t want her to see my teary face.

  “I’m as good as can be expected,” she said with a smile as she tapped the side of her bed to show me that she wanted me to come sit down next to her. “Enough about that. How did it go with that man of yours?”

  I left the door and walked inside of her room but I didn’t sit down next to her. Instead, I stood in front of her and smiled at her, hoping my eyes weren’t too red. And then I remembered what she’d just asked me. I stiffened as the memories replayed in my head. William was the last thing I wanted to talk about. Plus, I didn’t want my mother to worry herself about what was or wasn’t going on with William. She didn’t need any more anxiety or worry. She had her own battle that she was in the midst of fighting. So I lied through my teeth. “It was really nice, Mom, but I want you to focus on getting some rest. I just wanted to check on you.”

  My mother tried to turn her head around to look at me, but I quickly moved away and turned my back on her as I pretended to busy myself organizing things around the room. I felt the weight of her eyes drilling holes into the back of my head, but I tried not to let it affect me. I coughed to clear the lump in my throat as I rapidly blinked back the tears as soon as I thought about William and what had happened between us.

  “I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry, so I was thinking I’d make us some pasta with that white sauce you love, maybe a light salad and some grilled chicken,” I said with a forced smile as I turned to face her.

  “That sounds great.”

  “Alright then, I’ll let you get some rest while I take a shower. I’ll wake you when the food is ready, okay?” I leaned down and gave my mother a quick kiss on the forehead.

  Before I could pull back, she took my hand in hers and squeezed tightly. Her frail hands felt warm and sure next to my own shaky and pale ones. She looked at me in a way that said she was looking right through me. It wasn’t surprising because my mother and I were very close and always had been.

  “I know you don’t want to talk about it, but just remember that I’m here for you when you want to, okay?” She gave me a warm smile as she released my hand.

  “Thank you, Mom,” I said softly as I nodded and forced back the tears. I didn’t want to put this on her already heavy load. Instead, I turned around and left the door slightly ajar as I made my way to the hall. When I reached the bathroom, I shut the door and locked it behind me as I faced myself in the mirror and felt the tears come back again.

  I viciously began to yank off my clothes, and I tossed them to the side of the room in a heap. Turning the shower on, I waited for the water to heat up as I tried to silence the voice in my head that kept insisting I’d just messed everything up with William. Part of me was angry with him for reacting the way he had, but the other part was angrier with myself. I should have known better than to throw myself at him. I should have known better than to tell him that I loved him. All I’d managed to do was scare him and force him back into his shell.

  He’d tried to warn me, but I hadn’t listened.

  Foolishly, I marched forward thinking that I could change him, that I could help him to see the great person he was. And who was I to think I could do such a thing? It wasn’t like I was a superhero or someone who had experience with these types of things. I was basically a nobody. Just a silly girl who happened to love a man who didn’t love her back.

  It was my own stupid mistake, and I ha
d no one to blame but myself.

  When the water was finally hot enough, I stepped under the spray and let the water beat down on my back. I wanted it to wash away the memory of today, but I wasn’t foolish enough to think it would be that easy. No, these thoughts and memories and this pain wasn’t something that was just going to go away easily.

  I tentatively touched myself down there and grimaced in pain at the soreness I felt. Of course memories of William thrusting himself inside of me repeatedly came back with a vengeance. As miserable as I was, I couldn’t help the lift in my spirits when I remembered how sexy he was, how completely virile and masculine. And yet, had I the chance to take it all back, I would have.

  Regret is not a fun feeling to have and the more I felt it, the angrier with myself I became. I lifted my chin up and reached for my loofa as I began to vigorously scrub away any remnants of our afternoon together. The tears streamed down my face and intermingled with the water until it became hard to tell where the water began, and my tears ended.

  I braced my hands on either side of the shower wall and let the emotions wash over me. I cried until my body heaved with sobs, and my knees felt shaky. I cried until my throat was raw, and I felt drowsy. I cried until I was all cried out then I switched off the water and wrapped a towel around myself. I opened the door and walked across the hall to my room, quickly getting dressed without looking in the mirror. I didn’t think I had the strength to face myself.

  ******

  I sat at work the next day feeling sorry for myself. But then I got angry that I was succumbing to everything as thoroughly as I was. But then the anger took an unexpected detour as William’s face filled my mind’s eye. And suddenly I was completely furious with him.

  At the point at which he realized I was a virgin, he should have stopped himself, I decided. Nevermind what I’d said—nevermind that I’d told him not to stop. If he’d known all along that he wasn’t in love with me and couldn’t be, how had he taken something so valuable from me? Was it true that men just thought with their penises and didn’t give a rat’s ass about the woman beyond what she was able to make him feel…there? It had to be true because that’s exactly what had happened with William. He’d taken advantage of me.

  You know that isn’t true, I argued with myself. And you’re just trying to blame him so you feel better about the decisions you made.

  No, I argued back. If he had no intention of doing the right thing by me then he should’ve just rejected me right then and there.

  It would’ve hurt like hell, but at least I wouldn’t be left feeling like a piece of crap. I felt used, and it wasn’t a pleasant feeling. William had said he cared, but as soon as he got me to spread my legs for him, he was gone. Like literally within minutes.

  He was out that door so fast there were skid marks in his wake.

  “Delilah, you look terrible. Are you alright?” Donna, my co-worker, asked as she gave me a sympathetic look. I didn’t bother to look at her. She was the last person I wanted anything to do with because her concern wasn’t real. It was as artificial as everyone else in this damned town.

  Instead I caught sight of myself in the reflection of the glass just beyond my teller’s counter. My eyes were bloodshot, and there were bags underneath them. My hair was hanging limply over my shoulders, and my mouth was pressed into a thin line. I looked exhausted and I was exhausted, emotionally and physically.

  I swallowed thickly as my shoulders deflated, and I tried to give Donna a brave smile in the hopes that she’d leave well enough alone.

  Terrible was an understatement.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Delilah

  I’d just dropped my mother off at the hospital for her check up with the doctor, and now I was back home to get some sleep before I picked her up again. Usually I stayed with her for all her appointments, but this one was going to be a long one, and I hadn’t slept at all the night before, so she insisted that I come back home and get some sleep before I picked her up.

  My pajamas were halfway over my head when the doorbell rang. I frowned as I pulled my shirt down and tied the drawstring waistline of the bottoms. I wasn’t expecting company, and anyone who stopped by to visit my mother called ahead first to make sure she was available. No matter, it was probably just the mailman.

  I took a quick look through the peephole, and my heart skipped when I saw William standing on my front porch looking completely out of place. His hands were shoved into his pockets, and he wore a determined look on his face.

  I had no idea what he wanted, but I also wasn’t sure if my heart could take whatever he had to say. For some reason, I didn’t think it would be good news. I took a deep breath, pushed my hair out of my face and steeled myself. Then I turned the doorknob and opened the door.

  As soon as William saw me, relief washed over his face. He didn’t say anything but just stood there, looking at me. So I just stood there looking at him.

  “Is this a bad time?” he asked finally. His voice sounded gruff.

  “Actually, yes.” I crossed my arms over my chest and refused to look at him even though I could feel his eyes on me, imploring me to explain. But I didn’t want to explain. I wouldn’t give into him again. This time I would stand my ground and I would be strong. I wouldn’t be the silly, inexperienced little fool he took me for. I was way over that girl.

  “Oh.” He sounded surprised as he awkwardly began to scratch the back of his neck. “Well, this will only take a few minutes, I promise.”

  “What will only take a few minutes?”

  “Well, I came here to… to talk to you.”

  “About what?”

  “About what happened.”

  “There’s really nothing to talk about.”

  He took a deep breath. “That isn’t true.”

  I didn’t say anything because I was waging an argument with myself inside of my head. Should I or shouldn’t I give him the time to talk? Was it better just to tell him to leave me alone and never bother me again? Or did he deserve the chance to make his actions right?

  “Please, Angel,” he said and his eyes were soft. “Just listen to me for a few minutes. After that, you can kick me out. I know I deserve a sound kick for what I did.”

  “No arguments there,” I agreed as I pushed the door open and gestured for him to come in. I wondered what he was thinking as he stepped into our tiny but clean home. It didn’t have the same cozy feel to it as his place, but it was home all the same.

  William towered over me as he stood in my living room, uncomfortably shifting from foot to foot. Even though I wasn’t sure if it was the right move, I motioned to the couch. “You can sit down.”

  “Thank you.”

  He plopped onto the sofa, and it made a wheezing noise as if the life was being squeezed out of it. The poor couch wasn’t used to such a massive amount of weight. My mother and I were both small.

  “So?” I started as I crossed my arms against my chest and regarded him with as much disinterest as I could muster.

  “So,” he responded and then breathed in deeply. He just looked up at me, and his eyes seemed to be swimming with emotions I didn’t recognize.

  “So,” I said again.

  “I’m sorry about what… happened between us,” he began.

  “If you came here to say sorry, you didn’t have to,” I said but he shook his head.

  “Please let me finish,” he started and then inhaled deeply again. “I have no excuse for my behavior the other day, but…” He took a breath and then stood up, as if completely uncomfortable with what he was saying. “Can I have a glass of water?” he asked.

  “No,” I said simply and then frowned at him as my eyebrows reached for the ceiling in an expression that said I wasn’t pleased. Surprise lit up his features, and I had to admit to myself that I was also surprised by my response. “Just spit it out, William.”

  “I understand why you’re angry with me,” he began.

  “I’m glad to hear it because I worr
ied that maybe you weren’t aware that I was.”

  “Of course I’m aware!” he growled at me. “I didn’t need to come here to know you’d be angry. It was a given.”

  “Why?”

  “Why?” he repeated and shook his head like he was perplexed. “Why what?”

  “Why do you think I’m angry?”

  He looked at me like I’d sprouted another head. “Well, because of what happened.”

  “What happened?”

  “Angel,” he began as he shook his head. “This is hard enough for me to get through. I’m not sure why you’re making it even harder.”

  “I’m not,” I answered simply. “I’d just like to know what happened between us in your perspective.”

  “I disrespected you, and I feel terrible about it,” he answered. I didn’t say anything because I was surprised to hear the words from his mouth. “Please understand that it had nothing to do with you.”

  “It had everything to do with me because I forced your hand,” I said, my mouth tight.

  “No, you didn’t.”

  “Yes, I did,” I insisted. “You were very forthcoming about what your feelings for me were.”

  “And I was lying.”

  “Regardless, I was the one who forced you into the situation.” He laughed then. “Why are you laughing?” I demanded, suddenly angrier than I was.

  “I don’t mean to offend you,” he started, and it suddenly dawned on me that I’d never seen him laugh before. And seeing it now was downright… attractive.

  “You aren’t offending me,” I said.

  “Well, I haven’t told you yet what I was going to,” he said, a smile now lodged on his face.

  “Then say it,” I responded, having a tough time in playing the angry and self-righteous woman.

  “You are hardly strong enough to force me to do what we did,” he explained. “We had sex because I wanted to, not because you forced me into it.”