Heart of the Country

  Sitting at a desk we’d had imported from Spain, I stared at the blank sheet of paper. It kind of reminded me of a fresh start. Lots of possibilities. If only life were that simple.

  Dear Faith, I wrote in my best penmanship. I’d always had nice handwriting, to the point that I had to scratch it up a bit in high school to keep the taunts away. I am sorry. More than you’ll ever know.

  How could I express in words what I was feeling, what I would give to have her back? I’d give all of this up. Every cent of what I had left, anyway. But I was afraid to say it, afraid she’d think I thought it was about the money I’d lost, and it wasn’t. Maybe it used to be, but walking through the fire can scorch off a lot of excess.

  After a few more moments of staring at ten words, I dropped the pen to the desk and returned to my chair, where I turned on the TV only to find myself standing on the courthouse stairs, my face distorted by the wide-screen TV effect. Behind me, towering though he wasn’t much taller, was my father, Austin Stanford Carraday. Had he aged? How had I not noticed him hunching more? Squinting more? They cut to a closer picture of us, and I noticed his eyes shimmering with emotion I hadn’t caught before. And his hand was on my shoulder, too. I suspected it had been there all along, but I chose not to feel it. I didn’t unmute the TV. I didn’t really want to know what they were saying anyway. I just watched the two of us, and my mind drifted to the time when he was strong enough to pick me up and toss me into the sky, as if I weighed nothing. I thought he hung the moon. There stood the man I thought took everything from me, but the truth was he’d already given me the world.

  There was a knock at the door suddenly, jolting me from the quiet habitat of regret I’d created for myself.

  God, please! That same feeling of relief, freedom, pure joy that I felt at the courthouse shot me straight out of my chair. I stumbled into an end table and knocked over a vase rushing toward the door. I am not sure why I thought she wouldn’t give me two seconds to open the door, but just in case, I killed myself getting there. Lunging for the knob, I yanked it open, startling the woman on the other side.

  Maria.

  “I am such an idiot,” she said, rolling her eyes and shrugging her shoulders while managing to look not the least bit regretful.

  “Your purse.”

  “Bingo.”

  I waved her in and walked to the kitchen counter to retrieve it.

  “I always loved this place, Luke.”

  “It’ll probably be up for sale soon. Wanna buy it?”

  “In a second. Just need some money.”

  I held the purse out to her, stretching my arm a little further so I didn’t have to step closer.

  “Thanks.” But she set it right down on the arm of the couch. She gazed about, like it was a starry night or something. “It still feels like a home.”

  “I haven’t changed anything.”

  “Still have that silly old painting, don’t you?”

  We both stared at it for a moment, resting awkwardly against the fireplace.

  Then, “Luke, do you remember the night you met Faith and me?”

  “Sure.”

  “I wanted you to talk to me, but you chose her.”

  She stepped closer. Caught my eye. Lowered her tone to a whisper. “Here’s your second chance.”

  There’s a lot that goes through the mind of a guy when he’s being tempted. Through the fog of her perfume, I wondered if I could actually be alone. If Faith and I never got back together, could I do it? Would I want to? Would I be too much of a train wreck for anyone else to love?

  I looked at Maria. She had this intensity about her, a wild-animal-stare kind of intensity. You weren’t sure if you were interesting or about to be eaten.

  But all I could see was Faith. That’s all I wanted to see. At that moment, when I pretty much wished Maria would just eat me alive, I knew there would never be anyone but Faith.

  I put my hand between us. “It’s time for you to go home.”

  And it was just as I said it that a key rattled in the front door. Before I could really identify the sound and believe it was what I was hearing, the door swung open and there stood Faith, staring at the most awkward and regretful moment of my life.

  “Faith?” I gasped, and the gasp wasn’t for the fact that I was engaged in something I shouldn’t be, but because I was so surprised to see her. I think I elbowed Maria out of the way as I walked to the door.

  She said nothing. She didn’t have to. Her face told the whole story . . . at least the story she thought she was seeing. Before I could reach her, she closed the door. I ran out to the hallway, but she’d taken the stairs. I followed after her, down the concrete, echoing stairwell, calling her name.

  I didn’t catch up to her until we got to the street.

  “Faith, wait! Please!” I said as we reached the sidewalk.

  Finally she turned. In the four years we’d been married, I’d never seen that expression on her face, and it shocked me. Disdain. But in her eyes, there was a sorrow that I could barely look at. And that sorrow made me realize she hadn’t shut me out yet. I reached for her arm, then thought better of it.

  “Let’s not have this moment,” she said, breathing harder than she should’ve been. I knew adrenaline was shooting through her, that fight-or-flight mechanism kicking in like her life was at stake. I knew it was. Our lives.

  “There is nothing there!” My voice was shrill, panicked, my fists clenched as I gestured toward the apartment. “Go ask her. I swear, nothing is happening. Nothing happened.”

  She stood perfectly still, her nostrils flaring, her voice growling and low. “I am not asking her anything. Ever.”

  That had been a mistake. Of course I shouldn’t have told her that. But there was a desperation inside me that seized any sense of self-control, any sense of self-respect. I was not far from dropping to my knees. She turned suddenly, walked with an assuredness that told me she had no intention of turning back.

  “I wasn’t with her! I’m not with her!”

  I chased after her, grabbed her arm this time. Faith swung around, yanking it back. She took a few steps, gazing into my eyes like she was hoping to find some humanity there. “Thank you,” she said quietly, “for helping my father.”

  Her fingers rose, hailing a cab.

  “Wait . . . what?”

  “Thanks for getting him in.”

  “But . . . Faith, I didn’t . . .”

  The cab arrived and she opened the door, giving me a long look. “Then never mind. Good-bye, Luke.”

  She disappeared and the cab sped off as if it knew she was fleeing.

  “I’m sorry . . .”

  I whipped around. Maria stood there with her purse tucked under her arm, shaking her head like she’d just witnessed a car wreck.

  “No, you’re not.” I stormed past her.

  She reached for me. “Luke, I—”

  “Get away from me. Leave. Now.”

  54

  OLIVIA

  I EXPECTED TO BE OVERWHELMED the moment I stepped off the plane. The plane ride alone was an experiment in the steadiness of my nerves. But the airport was easy to navigate, and the cab even easier to find.

  Before I knew it, a polite young man named Ahab was welcoming me to the city. “I can tell, your first time, no?”

  “Yes.”

  “Welcome to the greatest city on earth!” Ahab said cheerily.

  “Well, you haven’t been to Columbus County, North Carolina, but . . .” I gazed through the windshield of the car at the wattage. A lot of wattage. All the buildings twinkled against the dark sky. “I think you’re probably right. We don’t have skyscrapers.”

  “Or Broadway,” he said with a side grin.

  “Nothing wrong with open fields and fresh air,” I said, but not boldly enough to withstand Ahab’s obvious love for this city. “This is pretty spectacular.” I handed him the address to the hotel Faith said they were staying in.

  “Here for business or pleasure?” r />
  “Neither.” Now Ahab was getting a little too chatty.

  “Whatever the case, I hope you enjoy your stay.”

  “Ahab, you’re nice enough. Well worth the tip I know you’re expecting.”

  “What can I say? I like to meet new people.”

  “I’m more the kind to keep to myself, but I guess I am in New York. Not a good place to come if you can’t tolerate people.”

  “What is your name?”

  “Olivia.”

  “Well, Ms. Olivia, I think you’ll find our town friendly enough to your liking.”

  I sat back, gazed out the window, and let the city take me in. I tried to imagine what Faith’s life was like here. Rich socialite. Hard to grasp. But I had to admit, I might like it for a season. Wouldn’t give up the farm, the girls, Hardy, for anything, but I could play here for a little while.

  The traffic alone was a shock. But the horns and the hums of the cars fell into a rhythmic sync, like all the instruments of an orchestra tuning themselves at the same time.

  The cab was quiet except for Ahab humming something softly.

  “Ahab, thank you for your kind welcome to the city.”

  “You’re most welcome, Ms. Olivia.”

  “I’m here because my daddy has cancer, and we’re seeing a specialist.”

  “Oh, I am so sorry to hear that. I will say a prayer for him,” Ahab said, and I believed that he would.

  In an hour’s time, Ahab was pulling to the front of the Holiday Inn. He hopped out and hurriedly opened the door for me. I handed him cash, told him to keep the change, and waited for him to get my suitcase.

  My first and only friend in New York City. Ahab. I thanked God for the kind man he sent to drive me here. Now I had to find the room.

  I was just pulling up the handle of my suitcase when another cab arrived. I got out of the way and was still trying to figure out why my handle was stuck when I heard, “Olivia?”

  I looked up to find Faith walking toward me. “Faith!” I was relieved but caught off guard. As was she. Her eyes were wide. She wasn’t smiling. “I can explain,” I said hastily. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, Faith. You have to know that. I just wanted to be here, with you both, and hear what the doc—”

  Her arms shot out; she grabbed me by the shoulders, pulled me into a tight hug, and whispered, “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  Then she burst into tears.

  I got her calmed down and we walked down the street to an IHOP. I had something that said “fruit” and “whole wheat” but tasted like dessert. Faith only had coffee. She looked even thinner now that I hadn’t seen her in a couple of days. Her eyes were bloodshot and I knew she’d been crying.

  “I caught him with Maria . . . my best friend.”

  I lost my appetite right along with her. I set my fork down. “Tonight?”

  She nodded. “Dad urged me to go over, try to make some peace. He said any guy that would go to the trouble to help his father-in-law, like Luke did, was worth at least a conversation.” A tear dribbled down her cheek. The waitress was refilling her cup and noticed, but I gave the gal a move-it-along look. “I walked right into our home and there he was in the living room with her.”

  “Naked?” I gasped loudly. Too loudly. An elderly couple turned. I guess naked shouted in the middle of a pancake joint is weird even in New York.

  “Shhh!” Faith said. “No, not naked.”

  “Kissing?”

  “No.”

  “Hands not where they belong?”

  “No, no. They were just standing there. But you should’ve seen the look on Luke’s face. Guilt, Liv. Total and complete guilt.”

  “What’d he say?”

  “That it was nothing, of course.” Faith sniffled. “All these years, I knew Maria had a thing for Luke. I never fully trusted her, and I hated it because I thought I was just being paranoid.” She looked up at me as she blotted her eyes. “You know, I always measured everyone against you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When I’d meet somebody. A potential friend. I always judged them in regard to how they treated me. I guess all those years I was in New York, I was looking for a sister.”

  A lump stung my throat—a big, juicy one that got me all teared up. “Faith, I should’ve never . . . let so much time pass. I’m sorry.”

  “I’m the one that ran.”

  “But I know I made it hard to come home.” I took my spoon, scooped some whipped cream off my pancakes, and offered it to her. “Pure whipped sugar?”

  “Yes.” She smiled and put the whole thing in her mouth. “Gwood.”

  “I know.”

  “I kind of want to rub it all over my face.”

  “Weird by even New York standards.”

  We laughed. But her smile didn’t last too long.

  “I miss Momma.”

  “I know you do, sweetheart.”

  “It’s like our life was this beautiful story and her character just disappeared right in the middle of it. Just gone.”

  “Faith, the thing that lets me get up each morning without my heart falling into a million tiny pieces is that I know we will see her again. Momma had made her peace with God long before the accident. She gave everything over to Him, including how long she was supposed to be on this earth.”

  “It haunts me,” Faith said, staring into her coffee. “That it can all be gone instantly.”

  “Not gone. Just temporarily removed. God promises that one day all of our tears will be wiped away. Until then, we dig our way through this mess with our hands.”

  “I have to confess something.”

  “What is it?”

  “I believe Luke.”

  “Believe him?”

  “About Maria. I could see it in his eyes.”

  “Why didn’t you tell him?”

  “Because that would mean I’d have to forgive him for lying to me. For destroying all we had.”

  “Sometimes ‘all we had’ is not close to ‘all that could be.’ Sometimes you have to lose the thing you think is perfect to see the better thing on the other side.”

  “You think we can be saved?”

  “I think it’s no mistake you’re back in New York.”

  “We never fit into his family either. They never accepted I really did love him.” She stirred her coffee like she’d just poured something in it.

  “I’m never going to fit back into my jeans if I eat this by myself. Come on, help me out,” I said, handing her a fork. She didn’t even hesitate. I wondered when she’d eaten last.

  We finished pretty fast and walked back to the hotel. “Let me get a room,” I said as we approached the front desk.

  “Don’t be silly. Two king-size beds in there. Come on, there’s plenty of room.”

  “Dad’s going to freak out when he sees me.”

  “He’s asleep. And as much as he complains about you mothering him, I promise that he couldn’t live without you.” She put her arm around me. “Neither can I.”

  There’s not too much that can make this old farm girl cry more than once in the same month, but that theory was being tested pretty severely.

  We got to the room. Dad didn’t even rustle as we entered. “Get in your jammies. We’ll find a late-night movie,” Faith said, and I swear I was transported to the age of ten.

  The last thing I remembered was giggling.

  55

  LUKE

  I FELL ASLEEP at ten after five, and my alarm rang at six, blaring out that it was time to wake up and also that my life was as promising as a call from a debt collector. If it was possible to die of a hangover from life, I was in danger. I managed to sit up, get my feet on the floor, and trudge to the bathroom, where I had the unpleasant task of looking at myself.

  “No wonder she left you,” I groaned, my eyes swollen half-shut and the left side of my face as red as a blood orange. Except I knew it wasn’t because I looked hideous. Faith was good, and good people love the heart, so I k
new I had to dig deeper.

  Sure, last night was a misunderstanding, but I had to take responsibility for it. I should’ve never let Maria into the apartment. I should’ve never had drinks with her. I should’ve never . . . the list was endless, wasn’t it?

  I’d tried to call Faith, over and over like a crazy person. I’d texted her. But I was only met with silence. And in the face of silence, I realized that I could only control so much in my life. I couldn’t control her or what she thought of me. For many years, I’d controlled my universe, with quite a bit of ease if I was honest. It was what the Carradays did. We controlled. We were in control. We never lost control.

  Right now all I knew for sure was that I had a giant mortgage to pay and a reputation to restore. And my father had offered me a way to do both. So I pulled on my favorite suit, a brown Louis Vuitton with a blue paisley tie. I brushed my teeth and combed my hair and tied my shoes. I took this for granted for so long . . . the act of going to work. The act of getting out of bed with something to look forward to. I’d fallen into a lot of things, including the grind.

  As I drove to my new job, I wondered how Dad could even take me back. I’d brought shame to the family name, brought disgrace to my marriage, and to top it all off, had to have my brother and dad bail me out of my own mess, literally. I was the cautionary tale with the twist ending.

  Except I hoped this wasn’t the end. I couldn’t give up on Faith. I had to keep fighting until there wasn’t anything left in me. The problem was that I didn’t have a game plan. I was at a loss as to what to do next.

  At Carraday headquarters, I was surprised to find my parking spot still painted with Reserved along with a brown metal sign displaying my name. Surely this hadn’t been there the whole time, since I left?

  I took the elevator up to the seventieth floor. Observed the new TVs that had been installed in the elevator, tuned to CNBC, the stock market ticker tape rolling brightly across the bottom. The doors swished open and I stepped out gingerly, like the floor might fall out from underneath me . . . or the room might start to boo. I was hoping I could make it to Dad’s office without being noticed.