Surrender to Love (Night Calls)
That was the part he was most looking forward to—moving ahead.
Patricia was his future, and he knew that now. The truth rang in him like a church bell, loud, musical, and beautiful in a way that tugged at his heartstrings. She was ‘The One’. It was crazy to even think it, but ever since Casey had put that thought into his head, he couldn’t deny the truth of it. For so long it seemed impossible, and now it was a reality, and it was within his reach. All he had to do was stretch out his hand and take it.
This amazing woman had snuck in and stolen his heart before he even realized that he had let down his guard, and he couldn’t be happier about it. If not for her, he would still be wallowing in self-pity, committing himself to a life of loneliness and self-hatred and a long line of nameless, faceless women who didn’t care for him any more than he cared for them.
She gave meaning to his life. How could he ever repay her?
He could love her, that’s how. He could spend the rest of his life loving her and caring for her, letting her know every day, in every way, that she was the very air he breathed. He could live without her, but he didn’t want to, and he didn’t want to waste any more time on what should have or could have been. The past was the past and he was ready to leave it there. Screw what anyone else thought he should do with his life, and screw what they thought about him, because he refused to be their whipping boy any longer. He’d suffered, too, damn it, and the time had come to stop. The time had come to surrender to the past, to the future, to the woman whom he’d turned his heart over to, and the time had come to surrender to love.
Reaching into his pants pocket, Jon dialed Patricia’s number as he called out, “Breakfast is getting cold, sis! Move it or lose it!”
He shoveled a bite of eggs into his mouth and pressed the phone to his ear as he chewed. He frowned when the call turned over to voice mail. “Hey, it’s me. Just wondering when you planned to come over. Call me back.” He paused, wondering if he should tack on those three little words that seemed ready to leap from his throat, but in the end, he thought better of it, and ended the call. He didn’t want to scare her away.
Just as he was about to set his phone down, Jon noticed that he had a message waiting for him. A niggling of something he couldn’t quite identify began to work its way into his gut as he played the message.
“Hey, Jon, it’s me.” There was a pregnant pause in which Jon’s heart began to beat a little faster. “Um, you said to come by when I was ready. I’m ready. I’m in front of your place, but I don’t see your car. Call me when you get this message.”
Okay, she hadn’t said anything bad. She was only calling to tell him that she was there, waiting for him. Jon smiled as he set down his phone. His smile vanished when he realized that he hadn’t seen her car when he’d pulled up.
“Casey,” he shouted. He walked out of the kitchen and made his way down the hall toward the guest bedroom she was staying in. “Casey,” he called through the door, rapping his knuckles against it.
“Come in.”
Her voice sounded off, and as Jon twisted the knob and pushed his way inside, he glimpsed her reflection in the mirror. She sat on the edge of the bed, her head hanging low. “Hey, what’s up? Are you okay?” As he approached her, she lifted her head and he could see by her bloodshot eyes that she had been crying. Fear gripped him. “Are Mom and Dad okay?”
Christ, if anything had happened to either of them, he’d lose his shit.
Casey waved away his question. “They’re fine,” she croaked.
Jon breathed a sigh of relief and lowered himself down beside her. He draped an arm around her shoulders and asked, “Then what’s wrong? Does this have anything to do with Mike? I can break his kneecaps if you want me to.” That earned him a small smile.
“Mike and I are fine. Mom and Dad are fine.” She sniffled.
“Then what’s going on?” Just like when they were kids, Jon turned on his big brother charm and gave her a little noogie.
“Damn it, Jon,” Casey laughed, pushing him away. She smoothed her damp hair and her shoulders slumped again.
“Come on, C, talk to me. I can’t fix it if I don’t know what needs fixing.” Jon couldn’t help but to glance at the clock sitting on the nightstand. He did a mental calculation. Patricia had called almost twenty minutes ago. He was fighting with everything in him not to run and call her back. Right now, Casey needed him.
“If I tell you,” Casey said, her big, round blue eyes lifting to meet his, “promise you won’t kill me?”
Jon bumped his shoulder against hers. “I promise not to kill you, unless you deleted my games from the DVR. Then all bets are off.”
He didn’t get the reaction out of her he was looking for. Casey dropped her head and hunched her shoulders again. Sucking in a deep breath, she lifted her hand from her lap and held it out to him.
Glancing down at it, Jon realized that it wasn’t her hand she was offering him, but what was in it. He took the small box from her outstretched palm. “What’s this? You got me a present?”
Casey shook her head and her voice trembled as she said, “A woman stopped by while you were gone.”
Dawning washed over him and Jon nodded. “Yeah, that was probably Patricia, the woman I told you about. ‘The One.’” He grinned, his eyes glued to the box now resting on his thigh. “She called to tell me she was here. Why didn’t you let her in?”
Casey met his questioning gaze and looked positively shameful. “She was here. I did ask her to come in, but, Jon…” Her voice drifted off and Jon froze, his eyes fixed on her as dread began to seep into his veins. “I think she got the wrong impression.”
“How did she get the wrong impression?” he asked, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper. He looked down at the box again, and his hands trembled as he touched the lid. What was inside?
Casey pressed her fingers to her lips and tears shed down her pale cheeks. “I was in the shower—”
“Oh Jesus.” Jon jumped off the bed and began pacing the room. Behind him, Casey spouted frantic words at him. He captured bits and pieces. She answered the door in a towel. She didn’t know who she was. Something about the box. Then she’d left, looking really upset.
“Ya think, Casey?” he shouted, throwing his hands in the air as he rounded on her. “She comes to my house and a woman she’s never met answers my door in a fucking towel, and you think she might have been upset?”
Jon stormed from the room. Casey continued sobbing and apologizing to his retreating form, but he didn’t give a damn about her apologies or hurt feelings at the moment. All Jon knew was that his woman had come for him and now she was gone. He grabbed his keys and his phone on the way out the door.
25
“I’ve tried calling her, but her phone is turned off. Please, Jules, if you know where she is, tell me.” Jon pleaded with Patricia’s best friend, desperate to find her. He’d already called her phone a hundred times over. The fact that they hadn’t been together long was finally setting in, as was the knowledge that he really didn’t know anything about her.
He knew her father was dead, but he’d never met her mother. He knew of her friends, had met them briefly, but he didn’t know where to find them or how to get a hold of any of them. Then he’d had an epiphany. He knew Tate, he knew Felix, and both men had women who were in tight with Patricia and her group. They were her friends.
Since he and Tate had been friends since childhood, and since they had recently reconnected after a falling out, he contacted him first, and it had paid off. Tate didn’t know where to look for Patricia, but his wife did.
She gave him the number for her friend, Jules, who he remembered as the woman he’d met at their baby shower. He called her immediately, but she was proving difficult.
“Well, Jon,” she said smartly, “if her phone is off, then I’m guessing she doesn’t want to talk to you.”
“I get that,” Jon responded, being as calm as he could manage when he was hanging over the ed
ge of the proverbial cliff by his fingernails. “But it’s a misunderstanding. I need to talk to her so we can clear it up. Just tell me where she is.”
“I can’t. It seems my psychic abilities are on the fritz today.”
Jon gritted his teeth. “Can you just take a guess, please? I’m begging here. I need to talk to her.”
“Mmm, I like a man who knows how to beg,” she purred, but her mood changed in the next instant, like the snap of a whip. “Look, Jon, I feel for your situation, I really do, but I can’t just hand out my friend’s personal information to a stranger. Especially when it’s a stranger who she’s trying to avoid, apparently. You’re going to have to come up with something better. Persuade me. Why should I tell you anything?”
Jon pushed his fingers through his hair as he scoured his brain for something to tell her that might sway her. He was sitting in his truck, parked in the middle of a doctor’s office parking lot where he’d stopped to think after driving around the city for over an hour searching for Patricia. He’d gone to her house first, already knowing she wouldn’t be there. Then he’d swung by Carnal, since that was the place they first met, but it was still closed and there was no sign of her car anywhere. That was it, he was at a total loss, and now he was here, on the phone with her friend, the only option he had left.
No thoughts came to him, and he blew out a heavy breath. What could he say to her to make her give him something, anything that might help him find her friend? Unlike him, she didn’t have anything to lose.
His gaze fell to where his right hand clenched the gearshift. Then he looked to the passenger seat where the tiny box sat. He’d tossed it there when he’d first climbed behind the wheel, having been too preoccupied with getting to Patricia rather than seeing what was inside. Now, curiosity arrested him. She had left it behind with Casey to give to him. He couldn’t imagine what was inside of it. It didn’t look like the kind of box that would hold jewelry, but he was certain that whatever it was, it would be invaluable to him.
He knew he should be focusing on answering her friend’s question, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that this box and whatever was inside of it, was the most important thing just then.
He reached for it, picking it up and turning it over in his hand, taking its measure, making a dozen guesses about what could be inside, and knowing that none of them even came close to what it actually was.
“Hello,” Jules was saying in his ear, trying to regain his attention. “Hey, are you ignoring me? I asked you a question, dumbass.”
Jon wasn’t hearing anything she said. He was too busy staring at this little box. He had an inexplicable feeling that once he opened that lid, everything was going to change. It was unsettling. His heart pounded in his chest, in his temples, so loud it drowned out the world around him.
It was just him and the box.
With trembling hands, Jon held his breath and lifted the lid.
“Booties.” The word left his lips on a hushed whisper.
“Excuse me?” Jules sounded as confused as he felt.
His voice grew stronger. “Booties. She gave me booties.” Hooking his finger through the tied laces, he lifted the small, white baby booties from their nest of cotton batting and held them aloft in front of his face. They swayed, entrancing him as he puzzled over their meaning. Why the hell would she give him baby booties?
Again, Jules was yapping in his ear, but he tuned her out, too busy thinking. Wrapping his fingers around the tiny shoes, Jon looked to the box for more clues, although if he were being honest, he already knew their meaning, he just wasn’t ready to face it yet.
Inside, resting on top of the square piece of batting was a distinctive black and white photograph. Jon’s heart slammed against his ribcage as he carefully peeled it from the box, careful not to tear the edges.
The photo was grainy and there wasn’t a single identifiable thing about it, but he knew instantly what it meant. He scanned the white edges where information had been typed out and saw Patricia’s name. Below that, in the top left corner, were the words ‘Baby’s First Photo’. Holy crap, he was going to be sick.
Patricia was pregnant?
He was going to be a father?
A million doubts flooded his thoughts, along with a million questions.
“I need to talk to her, Jules,” he growled, determination causing his insides to flare with tension. “I love her. Tell me where she is.”
“You love her?” she asked.
Why was it that women’s minds always snagged on that word? “Yeah, I love her.”
She gave a resigned sigh. “I don’t know where she is exactly, but I can tell you where she might be.”
After explaining her theory, Jon took off. Already very familiar with the location, he didn’t need directions. For the first time in years, Jon broke his rules along with every rule in the city, and gunned it.
***
Patti sat on the ground, her legs folded like a pretzel and her fingers plucking the blades of grass that sprouted up in between. It was so peaceful here. The weather was warm and the sun shone bright, but the canopy of trees kept her from baking. She closed her eyes as a gentle breeze coasted across her body, her face, combing through her hair like gentle fingers.
This was her escape.
When the entire world went to shit around her, she knew she could always find some sense of solace with her father. He had always been, and always would be, her soft place to fall.
She just wished she could still feel his arms around her, and hear his soft words in her ear, soothing her. Every time she thought the pain of his death had finally gone away, it surprised her to find that it was as fresh as ever.
“I hate you for leaving me,” she told him, tearing out a handful of grass. She knew she shouldn’t have said it, but she was so angry with him. It killed her to feel that way, and she had never admitted it to anyone, not even Jules, who she knew would understand and support her. It felt like a betrayal to feel that way about someone who had always been her biggest champion. It felt wrong because he couldn’t even defend himself, but she hated him all the same.
He’d left her. He’d left her because he was careless, stupid, and selfish. He’d robbed her and her mother of him, and she had never forgiven him for that. She wasn’t sure she ever would.
“Mom was right, wasn’t she? That car was more important to you.” She gave a sad shake of her head. “I always tried so hard to be the person you wanted me to be. I made good grades, I stayed out of trouble, and I took an interest in everything you did. I guess I succeeded didn’t I?” she questioned with a humorless laugh. “Mom said I’m just like you, and I suppose she’s right. I took that damn car and I made it my pride and joy, and look where it’s gotten me. I’ve lost the one person I think could have made me really happy. I’ve never met anyone like him. He’s so intense and passionate and I think he really saw me.”
Her eyes squeezed tight, trying to hold back the flood of moisture welling in them. It was only then that she realized that her whole life had been a lie. “I used to think you were the only person who ever knew and accepted the real me, but I don’t even know the real me. I spent so much time trying to please you that I never got to know who Patti was.”
She felt so completely alone in that moment that she finally did cry. It was the worst feeling she ever had, being cast out into the world having no idea whom she was, and with so many questions bouncing around in her head. The only thing she knew for sure was what she wanted, and it looked like that wasn’t going to happen. She was on her own.
“I know I can’t blame you for everything. I’m my own person and I’ve made many mistakes. I would never give up the time we spent together, but I just wish things could have been different. Maybe then I wouldn’t be sitting here talking to your headstone.” Smoothing her fingers across the engraved lettering, she asked him, “Do you even know I’m here?”
Her hand dropped. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t as if he were going to give
her an answer.
“I should probably get going,” she muttered. As she stood up to brush dirt from her pants, she hesitated. “I’m sorry things got so heavy today, Daddy. I just needed someone to talk to that would listen and understand, and you were always so good at that.” She smiled as she dropped down facing the gleaming black marker. “I have some good news, though,” she said, pausing for dramatic effect. “You’re going to be a grandpa.”
The excitement of her news faded as soon as the words left her mouth and she realized that her father would never get to meet him or her. He’d never get to hold them or take pictures with them or send them presents for their first Christmas. It was just one more reason to be angry with him, but she didn’t want that. She didn’t want to focus on the negatives, because there had been far too much of that in her life already. She just wanted to be happy.
“Don’t worry, Daddy,” she told him. “I’ll make sure he or she knows who you are. I’ll tell them all about you and what an amazing person you were. I’ll tell them so much about you that they’ll feel like you’ve been there all their lives. But you will be there, won’t you, in your own way.” Kissing her fingertips, she pressed them to the cold stone, spoke her goodbyes, and turned to leave.
She hadn’t taken more than a few steps when she looked up to find a familiar face staring back at her. “Jon, what are you doing here?” she asked, her knees wobbling slightly from just the sight of him.
He’d parked his truck on the path behind her car. He looked so good dressed in a pair of light blue jeans that hung low on his tapered hips and a simple white T-shirt. His big body leaned against the side of the truck, and he didn’t take his eyes off her for a second as she made her way over to him.
“Why didn’t you wait for me?” His voice was low and gritty, and it made Patti shiver.
It took her a moment for his meaning to sink in. “You seriously think I would want to stay and wait for you?” she asked, incredulous. “And do what? Catch up on the morning news with your girlfriend, no, thanks.”