grieving, still reeling from her father’s death, one year later. Andi didn’t need to dump her problems on Carol, too.
“It was fine, but I’m exhausted.” Andi yawned. “I haven’t spent that much time on my feet in a very long time. I think I’ll head to bed now.”
Up in her childhood bedroom, she changed into her pajamas, sat down on her bed with her open laptop, and tried to focus on answering the dozens of e-mails that had come in during the day. But she was hard-pressed to focus on work with all of the things Nate had said zinging through her mind.
“You knew I could never say no to you.”
“You’re not from here anymore.”
“I know all about your promises, Andi.”
“Do you really sleep at night telling yourself those lies?”
No, she thought, as she began to reply to an e-mail from her assistant. It was unlikely that she’d be getting any sleep tonight.
Chapter Six
N ate couldn’t stop thinking about Andi. About the things he’d said to her at the Tavern.
As mayor, he often peacefully disagreed with friends and neighbors over issues. But he never lost it. Never.
So then, as soon as Andi had pushed those condo plans across the table to him, why had he all but blown apart?
She wasn’t the one who had made it personal. She’d been all business. He was the one who’d taken their discussion from condos to their screwed-up past.
And to the fact that he didn’t trust her anymore.
Jesus. He should have seen it coming, but he hadn’t. He hadn’t known Andi would still have the power to rock his world as much as she ever did. He should have known that the first shock of seeing her, talking with her, touching her was going to be bad, but like a fool with his head stuck in the sand, he hadn’t.
* * *
“Andi, he’s dead.”
“Nate? Is that you?”
He sat in the dirt outside his trailer. He’d wrapped his baby sister in a blanket and had the phone propped up against his shoulder. He could hear the sounds coming from Andi’s dorm room at Cornell, music and laughter, so different from the almost perfect silence that surrounded his trailer by the lake, a silence only broken up by an occasional frog…and his sister’s whimpers.
“Wait a minute,” Andi was said. “I can’t hear anything. My roommate’s stereo is up too loud. Let me go out into the hall. Darn it, it’s even louder out here. Hopefully my cordless will reach outside.”
He could hear her walking past people, who were saying hello. Her college life was a whole other world he knew virtually nothing about.
“Okay, silence. Finally. That’s better. I’m so glad you called, Nate. I was just thinking about you. I was just missing you. Can we start this call again?”
“He killed himself, Andi. He put a bullet through his brain.”
“Nate? What are you talking about?”
He knew he wasn’t making any sense, but it was hard to make sense after what he’d seen.
After the way his life had just imploded.
“My father. He shot himself.”
“Oh god. Oh no.”
All Nate wanted was for Andi to be here with him. To have her arms around him. To tell him everything was going to be okay. To see her and know that they’d figure things out together.
“I left to get some groceries and diapers, and when I came back, he was on the floor and there were brains—” He almost threw up again, barely swallowing down the bile. “Madison was in her crib. She was crying. Her diaper was dirty.”
It was still dirty. He needed to get back inside and grab the diapers he’d bought to change her. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t go back inside.
“Have you called the police yet?”
“No.”
He’d needed to call Andi first. Needed to know that there was still someone left who loved him, that there was still someone left that cared about him, that wouldn’t leave him when the going got too rough.
“I’m going to hang up right now, Nate, so that you can call 911 and tell them what happened.”
“I need you,
“It was fine, but I’m exhausted.” Andi yawned. “I haven’t spent that much time on my feet in a very long time. I think I’ll head to bed now.”
Up in her childhood bedroom, she changed into her pajamas, sat down on her bed with her open laptop, and tried to focus on answering the dozens of e-mails that had come in during the day. But she was hard-pressed to focus on work with all of the things Nate had said zinging through her mind.
“You knew I could never say no to you.”
“You’re not from here anymore.”
“I know all about your promises, Andi.”
“Do you really sleep at night telling yourself those lies?”
No, she thought, as she began to reply to an e-mail from her assistant. It was unlikely that she’d be getting any sleep tonight.
Chapter Six
N ate couldn’t stop thinking about Andi. About the things he’d said to her at the Tavern.
As mayor, he often peacefully disagreed with friends and neighbors over issues. But he never lost it. Never.
So then, as soon as Andi had pushed those condo plans across the table to him, why had he all but blown apart?
She wasn’t the one who had made it personal. She’d been all business. He was the one who’d taken their discussion from condos to their screwed-up past.
And to the fact that he didn’t trust her anymore.
Jesus. He should have seen it coming, but he hadn’t. He hadn’t known Andi would still have the power to rock his world as much as she ever did. He should have known that the first shock of seeing her, talking with her, touching her was going to be bad, but like a fool with his head stuck in the sand, he hadn’t.
* * *
“Andi, he’s dead.”
“Nate? Is that you?”
He sat in the dirt outside his trailer. He’d wrapped his baby sister in a blanket and had the phone propped up against his shoulder. He could hear the sounds coming from Andi’s dorm room at Cornell, music and laughter, so different from the almost perfect silence that surrounded his trailer by the lake, a silence only broken up by an occasional frog…and his sister’s whimpers.
“Wait a minute,” Andi was said. “I can’t hear anything. My roommate’s stereo is up too loud. Let me go out into the hall. Darn it, it’s even louder out here. Hopefully my cordless will reach outside.”
He could hear her walking past people, who were saying hello. Her college life was a whole other world he knew virtually nothing about.
“Okay, silence. Finally. That’s better. I’m so glad you called, Nate. I was just thinking about you. I was just missing you. Can we start this call again?”
“He killed himself, Andi. He put a bullet through his brain.”
“Nate? What are you talking about?”
He knew he wasn’t making any sense, but it was hard to make sense after what he’d seen.
After the way his life had just imploded.
“My father. He shot himself.”
“Oh god. Oh no.”
All Nate wanted was for Andi to be here with him. To have her arms around him. To tell him everything was going to be okay. To see her and know that they’d figure things out together.
“I left to get some groceries and diapers, and when I came back, he was on the floor and there were brains—” He almost threw up again, barely swallowing down the bile. “Madison was in her crib. She was crying. Her diaper was dirty.”
It was still dirty. He needed to get back inside and grab the diapers he’d bought to change her. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t go back inside.
“Have you called the police yet?”
“No.”
He’d needed to call Andi first. Needed to know that there was still someone left who loved him, that there was still someone left that cared about him, that wouldn’t leave him when the going got too rough.
“I’m going to hang up right now, Nate, so that you can call 911 and tell them what happened.”
“I need you,
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