What Youre Missing Part Two
- 3 years ago
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He stared at the piece of paper in his hand. The seven digits stared back at him. He could do this. He could dial the number… He couldn’t do it.
‘God, stop being such a fucking pussy and call the fucking number,’ he muttered to himself.
He stood quickly, and in three strides was grabbing the cordless from the dock. He dialed the number before he could think about it again. He listened to the ring one, twice… three times. He was just about to hang up when he heard a breathy greeting.
‘H-hello?’
‘Hi.’
Even over the phone he could feel the tension. He heard her sharp intake of breath, waited to hear the click and dial tone as she hung up on him. He deserved nothing less. He had taken something innocent and good and turned it into…
‘What do you want, Nathan?’
That was a loaded question. What did he want? He wanted her not to hate him. He wanted to start over. He wanted to pretend like the past six weeks hadn’t happened. He wanted not to see her eyes filled with tears as she stood in the rain outside his porch while he shut the door and walked away.
‘I want to see you.’
‘We have nothing to discuss.’
‘We have everything to discuss.’
‘I got the message loud and clear when she slapped me, and you slammed the door in my face.’
He hated the dejected tone of her voice. Hated that it was because of him that she didn’t sound vibrant, happy, and giggly. He hated that he’d listened to Vicki. That he’d taken the easy road and the money that came with her.
‘Char… listen… it wasn-‘
‘You listen, you bastard. There is nothing that you could say right now that would make me want to see you.’
‘Charlotte… I love you… please, hear me out.’
Silence greeted his declaration. He’d never once said those words to her when they were together. She’d told him time and again how she felt, professed her love, made him feel loved… and he’d never had the courage to tell her what was in his own heart. He was a coward. But he was trying to change everything. Trying to make it the way it should’ve been.
‘Please,’ he begged one more time. He heard a sniffle on the other end of the line.
‘Come to my house. You can say you’re sorry, and take the stuff you left.’
‘I don’t want to just apologize.’
She made some garbled noise that might have been an insult to him. He wasn’t sure. But then she clicked off, and he put the phone back before sprinting out the door and down the steps to his car. He made it to her house in an obscenely short amount of time, but he couldn’t seem to keep his foot off the gas pedal.
Taking the steps up to her door two at a time, he froze right before he could knock. He didn’t know how to start explaining. Didn’t know how to get his point across. What if he said the wrong thing and she told him to leave? He pressed his head to the wood and counted to three before tentatively knocking.
He heard footsteps slowly dragging across the hardwood floor and backed up so he didn’t look like a complete jackass. She opened the door and he stared down at her, taking in the tear-stained cheeks, the red nose, the blood shot eyes.
Fuck, I made her cry again.
‘Charlo…’
CRACK!!
The sting from her hand spread across the entire right side of his face. And he was pretty sure the noise bounced off the walls of her entryway. He looked at her, completely shocked, and opened his mouth to apologize when she reared back and hit him again.
CRACK!
‘You lying, cheating, no-good, slimy, two-timing sonofabitch! Did you really think you could just come over here and tell me that you were sorry and I’d magically fall into your arms again?? That I’d believe the lies you said over the phone?! Who does that?’
He was so surprised by her outburst that he didn’t have time to protect himself when she reached out and started hitting him. The punches didn’t hurt, and he knew she needed to get this out of her system, but he wanted to at least do this inside, so that nosy neighbors didn’t end up calling the police or something.
Nathan grabbed her arms and pushed her through the door, shutting it tight behind him. She was still attempting half-hearted blows, and sobbing. He did the only thing he could think of and pulled her to him. As he enveloped her into his embrace he felt her shudder out a breath, and the sobs turned into wails as she clutched at his shirt.
‘Shhhh, baby I’m here. I’m here and I’ll never leave you again,’ he said quietly. She sagged against him and he let them both slide down to the floor. Leaning back against the door he rocked her in his arms, praying he could find the words to tell her exactly how stupid he was for what he’d done, and the pain he’d caused.
‘I want to hate you so much. I want to rip out your heart and put it in my food processor. On high speed.’
The last part was broken up by a hiccup and he had to bit his cheek to keep from laughing at how adorable she was right now. If he did laugh, or if she saw the smile on his face right now, she’d no doubt start her tirade all over again.
‘Take it.’
‘What?’
She looked up at him, her eyes wide with shock and glistening beautifully because of the tears she’d just cried. He didn’t think she’d ever looked so beautiful.
‘Take my heart. It’s always been yours. I was just too big of a fool to ever realize what you meant to me until I didn’t have you anymore.’
‘You really hurt me Nathan.’
‘I know. And I can’t take it back… But I want to spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you. Just… just give me that chance.’
‘No more Vicki?’
‘No. Just you and me, the way it should’ve been from the beginning.’
He felt her shift in his arms and she leaned back to look at him, peering up from beneath those long fucking lashes that drove him crazy.
‘If you ever make some stupid mistake like that again…’
She didn’t get to finish her sentence because he pulled her close and covered her mouth with his. He kissed her senseless, and then kissed her some more. When they broke apart finally, he stared lovingly into her eyes while they both fought to catch their breath.
‘Say you’re sorry,’ she murmured.
‘I love you,’ he countered. He watched the tentative smile bloom on her face until it reached her eyes.
‘That’ll do,’ she said with a giggle, and then she pulled him back for another kiss, dragging him forward until he was lying on top of her on the floor. ‘Now show me.’
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I'm not going to bore you with the details, because quite honestly if you haven't heard of Tavansay, and me Piers Longstay, then where on earth have you been for the last year or two? Certainly not in the United Kingdom. However, everything you will have heard has been told to you by the media, and the papers only go for the sensational, the prurient so that they can pretend to be oh so high and mighty, and the broadcast media aren't much better, sound bites and snapshots, nothing that can...
Dee Johns found her home at the end of a washboard gravel road four miles northwest of Winthrop. "A place to settle down," she said. They were at Wolf Creek where it emerges from a deep canyon that cuts between the north end of Thompson Ridge and the south end of Virginian Ridge, the western wall of the upper valley. It was a sweltering 100-mile drive northeast along the Columbia River, then north along the Methow River, following sharper and narrower bends, climbing and winding, crossing...
Cottonwood trees flanking the rock-rimmed irrigation ditch behind the house moaned in the rising late-night wind. Graydon heard the swaying branches outside and close thunder booming from the north as an early summer storm moved down the valley. They had spent several days cleaning out clutter and moving in. Alex Senior made a trip in the Blue Goose to buy used furniture: a kitchen table and chairs, an iron frame double bed with springs and mattress, two war surplus barrack cots with pads, an...
His Arkansas drawl was thick like rich molasses, slow and easy. Ezekial Patterson seemed ageless; tall, slightly hunch-shouldered, and he shuffled along with a slight limp. "Patch," as folks called him, was as much a part of the 300-acre river-bottoms as the fields, the willows, and the cottonwood trees. His best pal Purdy dressed all in black with a floppy black hat. Patch wore blue denim that went unwashed once he put it on new from the General Store. The jacket and trousers were crusted...
The yellow school bus pulled up to their narrow drive on the gravel road, loaded Graydon and Alex Jr, drove a hundred yards to the "Y" intersection of the Wolf Creek spur and turned around. Their house was the last stop. It was four miles to school. Graydon sat at the window with Alex Jr. beside him. He watched the sagebrush flats roll by, the rock piles and stunted apple trees and lilacs marking where earlier homestead efforts had withered from lack of water. Wolf Creek was a seasonal...
Alex Sr. worked away during the week on a Columbia River dam site. He came home most weekends, making the three-hour drive Friday evening. Often he was quite late, saying he'd gotten "hung up" with friends or late work. Usually his breath smelled of whiskey. He had always been a drinker and enjoyed hanging out in the evenings with his tavern buddies. But now there was a new element: jealousy. There had been jealous rages before. Once in Wyoming at a rented tar-paper shack on the South...
Winters in the Methow Valley were cold, sometimes bitterly so. Temperatures ranged well below zero. The snow would pile up two and three feet deep. It fell to Graydon to keep the driveway into the Wolf Creek homestead shoveled out when the snow got deeper than the sedan his step-father drove, or the panel truck, their faithful Blue Goose, could break through without chains. Graydon would wax the flat-bladed shovel and begin cutting blocks from the deep snow, lifting each, and heaving it to...