Backwoods Page 8

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ABBY DUCKED INSIDE the empty tent to change.

  Brooke had crawled into the other tent with Leo. Abby didn’t protest the arrangement. She was too anxious to sleep, anyway. She’d rather stay up with Nathan than lie down and stress out over every little sound in the woods.

  She took off her shorts and put on black leggings. She was already wearing a jacket over her bikini top and shirt, so she didn’t bother to change the upper half. After slipping her shoes back on, she grabbed one of the sleeping bags and a sleeping pad. They didn’t have to be cold and uncomfortable while they guarded the camp.

  The temperature had dropped below sixty, which felt chilly. She wanted another layer between her butt and the ground. Her body was sore from hiking.

  When she brought the gear toward him, Nathan rose to his feet, his eyes alight with approval. He’d pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a flannel shirt. She set the sleeping pad down in front of the fallen log before she spread out the sleeping bag. They sat down, using the log as a backrest and bringing the edges of the sleeping bag around them.

  Cozy.

  “This is much better,” he said. “I think I’m getting too old to rough it.”

  “You don’t look it.”

  “I feel it.”

  She scooted closer to him, sharing his warmth. He smelled delicious, like mint and cedar. A campfire would be nice, but she understood why he hadn’t built one. Just in case.

  “You don’t have to stay up with me.”

  “I want to.”

  They were quiet for a few minutes. She felt fairly calm, considering the circumstances. This afternoon’s adventures could have triggered a major panic attack. “Brooke is sleeping in the tent with Leo.”

  “Are you worried about it?”

  “Not really.” She might be worried if Brooke started dating Leo or fell in love with him. Snuggling was no big deal.

  “I’m sorry for...causing a scene.”

  “You didn’t cause a scene. Brooke was out of line.”

  “So was Leo.”

  She moistened her lips, reluctant to continue an unpleasant subject. “Did you know I’d walked in on Ray and Lydia?”

  “No. Lydia never shared that story with me.”

  Her chest tightened with sympathy. It must have been difficult for him to hear.

  “Is that how you found out?” he asked.

  She nodded, picturing their guilty faces as she strolled through the door in a flirty red dress, carrying take-out bags. “I went there to surprise him with a romantic dinner. I thought he was doing paperwork.”

  “What did you tell Brooke?”

  “We sat down with her together, but Ray did most of the talking. He said he’d fallen in love with someone else.”

  The corner of Nathan’s mouth tipped up, as if he found Ray’s positive spin ironic. Abby considered it a cop-out. He’d played a victim of circumstance, helpless to resist Lydia’s charms. “How did Brooke take it?”

  “Surprisingly well. Her best friend’s parents had divorced amicably the year before. She wasn’t worried about Ray moving out, since he was hardly ever home. He promised he’d never stop loving her, even though he’d stopped...you know.”

  Nathan studied her face for a moment. She hoped the dark hid her sorrow. Although she’d been over Ray for years, these memories still made her sad. The thing she’d wanted most in life—a stable family—had slipped from her grasp in one fell swoop, like the take-out boxes that had fallen to the ground. It was that loss she’d always mourn, not Ray.

  “Lydia told Leo after I went to training camp, but we agreed on a ‘mutual story.’”

  Abby was familiar with the term. A mutual story prevented one spouse from demonizing the other and trying to alienate the children, in theory. “What was it?”

  “We weren’t happy together anymore.”

  This explanation brought tears to her eyes, when the memory of breaking the news to her daughter hadn’t. “He never asked your side?”

  “No. He didn’t want to talk about it, and I was a mess.”

  “Were you?”

  “Completely wrecked.”

  “So was I,” she whispered.

  He didn’t ask her to elaborate, but she felt this...need vibrating from him. It was more than curiosity. Their situations were so similar, their lives forever connected. Maybe talking about it would release them both in some way.

  “You noticed my unease today,” she said.

  “Yeah, but that was just baseball intuition. You hide it well.”

  “It was ten times worse after the divorce. I’d built my life around Ray, as stupid as that sounds.”

  “It doesn’t sound stupid.”

  “I went to nursing school so I could work in his office. I couldn’t believe he had an affair with a client right under my nose.” Lydia had been visiting Ray’s practice for Botox injections and body sculpting, two treatments she hadn’t really needed. “After we separated, I had to find a new job and start over. I’d been working at the retirement center for less than three months when the San Diego earthquake hit. I was on the freeway.”

  “Which one?”

  “The 163, near the collapse.”

  He whistled at the close call.

  “I was lucky to walk away. Very few of those who were trapped in their cars, or under the rubble, made it out alive.”

  “Did you get hurt?”

  “I fractured my elbow,” she said, touching the scar. “My car was totaled.”

  “Leo and Lydia were in Palm Springs with Ray. I was at training camp in Cincinnati. Where was Brooke?”

  “Home alone, close to the epicenter.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “No. It was spring break, and she was supposed to be with Ray. He dropped her off a day early to go to Palm Springs.”

  “Wow,” he said, frowning. “I didn’t know that.”

  “I think she got knocked out in the first quake, because she doesn’t remember it. She said she woke up with a headache. She was afraid to leave the house because of the aftershocks. Then there were fires and gas leaks and other hazards. On the second day, she looked out the window and saw a cheetah in the street.”

  He shook his head in disbelief. “I heard that some animals escaped.”

  “Yeah. We lived about a mile from the zoo.”

  “So you were at the hospital with a broken arm while Brooke was battling a concussion and wildcats.”

  “Pretty much. Phones weren’t working, so...I didn’t know she was alive.”

  “Jesus, Abby.”

  “I hoped she was, of course. But after the devastation I’d seen, I assumed the worst. Most of the survivors had been evacuated and accounted for. The roads were barricaded and only emergency service workers were allowed to go into the hard-hit areas. The recovery effort was methodical and thorough, but slow.”

  “How did she get out?”

  “On the third day, she heard someone calling for help. One of our neighbors was trapped under a piece of machinery in his garage. Brooke helped him out and they left together. We were reunited that night.”

  “I can’t imagine what the wait was like.”

  “Hell,” Abby replied. “It was hell. I had nightmares and panic attacks for months. I still have them.”

  “What triggers you? Besides Brooke jumping off tall objects.”

  “I don’t know,” she said, staring at the dark shapes of trees in the distance. Night clouds drifted across the sky, filtering the moonlight. “Being away from my cell phone. Open spaces. Closed spaces. The unknown, like you said. Anything threatening.”

  “Open spaces, really?”

  “Maybe just open water.”

  “Ah.”


  “But even big, empty fields can get to me. Views from a mountaintop. I used to look up at the sky when I was a kid and imagine myself way up there, like standing on top of a flagpole. It freaked me out.”

  “You’re an intriguing woman,” he said, arching a brow.

  She laughed at this polite way of calling her strange.

  “I mean that.”

  “I believe you.”

  “I can’t help but feel responsible for all of this.”

  “The earthquake?”

  “Our divorces. If I’d been a better husband, Lydia wouldn’t have cheated with Ray, and your marriage wouldn’t have broken up.”

  Although she didn’t agree, she humored him. “How were you a bad husband?”

  “I wasn’t home enough. I drank too much.”

  “Did you cheat?”

  “No.”

  “Were you tempted?”

  “Of course. It gets lonely on the road, and the perks are unreal. Women throw themselves at professional baseball players.”

  “How did you say no?”

  “Mostly by avoiding parties. Drinking alone.”

  She nodded her understanding. “I think you have to be open to cheating. There’s an invisible wall that faithful people keep up, a distance we maintain. No one can get close unless we let them.”

  “That’s a good theory.”

  “I like it.”

  “I’m sure it’s harder to stay faithful to someone you’re not in love with.”

  “Did you love Lydia?”

  “Yes. Desperately.”

  Abby wasn’t put off by his strong statement. If anything, it made him more appealing. She’d wanted her marriage to succeed. She knew Nathan understood how she felt. They had this hurt in common. “I loved Ray, too.”

  “Why did you get married?”

  “Besides love?”

  “You were young.”

  “It’s kind of a long story.”

  He settled back against the log, tucking his hands behind his head. “I’ve got all night.”

  “My parents are divorced,” she said, starting at the beginning. “My father didn’t cheat, as far as I know, but he was controlling. They argued about her career a lot. She refused to quit her job to move across the country with him.”

  Nathan listened without commenting.

  “After they split up, he started a new family. At that time, I was eight, and an only child. My mother remarried and had my sister, Ella.”

  “The one who just got engaged.”

  “Yes. Ella grew up in a stable home. My stepdad is a great guy. He’s always treated me like his own daughter. I even took his last name.”

  “But?”

  She moistened her lips, nervous. “Well, I was ten when my sister was born, and I noticed how much my stepdad adored her. He and my mom and Ella made this perfect little family. I felt left out. It was worse at my father’s house. My stepmom was nice and I got along with my stepbrothers, but I didn’t fit in.”

  “You wanted a family of your own,” he guessed.

  Nathan was intuitive; she’d give him that. “Yes. I met Ray right after graduation. He was twenty-three and ready to settle down. We got married two months later. Brooke came along in less than a year.”

  “Was it everything you hoped for?”

  “No, but I enjoyed being a mother.”

  “Lydia hated staying home with Leo. She wanted to travel and ‘have fun,’ like me.”

  “Were you having fun?”

  “Hell, no. In the minors I was playing a new city every night, sleeping on a bus.”

  “Do you think she had it easy?”

  “I did at the time, yes. Looking back, I realize I was wrong. She felt left behind and restless.”

  “I started to feel the same way, after a while. Ray would ask me about my day, but he didn’t seem to listen to my answer. He was obsessed with new surgery techniques. Nothing I did was as important as collagen injections and chin implants.”

  “So you got a nursing degree and went to work in his office.”

  “Yes.”

  “Did that make you more interesting to him?”

  “Apparently not.”

  “His loss.”

  She fell silent for a moment, her pulse fluttering. “I’ve become a lot more interesting since the divorce.”

  “No doubt.”

  “What about you?” she asked. “What’s your story?”

  “We were just getting to the good part of yours.”

  “Come on.”

  “My story is on YouTube. Over a million hits.”

  “Was that your wake-up call?”

  “No, I went downhill from there, if you can believe it. Even after I lost visitation rights and was released from my last baseball contract, I didn’t get sober. I just drank alone in hotel rooms, where no one could videotape me.”

  “Why did you start drinking?”

  “I drank socially before I got injured,” he said, massaging his shoulder. “After, I drank because I was stressed out and performing badly. Then my marriage imploded. Near the end, I drank because I had to. I couldn’t function without it.”

  “How did you stop?”

  “The Reds needed a third-base coach. They offered me the job, and it’s a pretty big deal. Not as big as playing, but lucrative and well-respected. It was the only way I could stay in the major leagues.”

  “Could you have gone back to the minors?”

  “Sure, but the pay doesn’t compare, and I was already pretty old, at thirty-four.”

  “Old at thirty-four?”

  “The average retirement age in the majors is thirty-two. Anyway, I wanted the job, but there was a catch. I had to go to rehab for thirty days. I agreed to go, but my heart wasn’t in it. The first time I only lasted twenty-four hours. John Christie, the Reds manager, found me and dragged me back. He said he’d keep coming after me. When I left again, he tracked me down in San Diego. The third stint stuck.”

  “He saved your life.”

  “I think so. I wish I could say I’d done it on my own, or I’d done it for Leo.”

  “Didn’t you? The manager and the job requirement got you there, but you completed the program for other reasons.”

  “That’s true. I ended up staying ninety days by choice, and moving into a sober living facility for ninety more. I also walked away from the coaching job. That was for Leo. I wanted to live closer to him.”

  “What did the manager say?”

  “He was happy for me. I donated some money to one of the club charities to cover the rehab costs. We’re still friends.”

  “You’re lucky he didn’t give up on you.”

  “Yes. He told me that someone had done the same favor for him. And he encouraged me to pay it forward.”

  A lightbulb went off inside her head. “You think you need to keep after Leo.”

  “I don’t know what else to do. He’s spending all of his pocket money on pot. Ray took his car away after he found a joint in the ashtray. It’s been an ongoing issue with Leo. I’m afraid he’s going to get arrested or have an accident.”

  “How are his grades?”

  “Not great.”

  “Maybe that’s why he changed majors.”

  “Maybe,” he said, as if he didn’t believe Leo was capable of making good decisions. “I guess any subject is better than Music.”

  Abby laughed, shifting to a more comfortable position.

  “What do you think?”

  The question caught her off guard. “About Music, or Leo?”

  “Leo.”

  When she hesitated for the second time, he noticed. He was very perceptive when it came to everyone but his own
son.

  “Is it that bad?”

  “You want my advice,” she said, just to make sure.

  “Yes, but now I’m afraid to hear it.”

  She smiled at his frank response, understanding. There was no faster way to put her on the defensive than a suggestion that she was doing wrong by her child. “Let’s talk about something else then.”

  “Why?”

  “You might get offended.”

  “So?”

  “You’re being too hard on him.”

  His reaction was just what she expected: disbelief and resistance. “Too hard? I haven’t even started to get hard.”

  “Well, don’t. It won’t work.”

  “Ray and Lydia have been too easy on him. They let him get away with murder.”

  Abby disagreed, based on the information about the car. “I don’t blame you for being concerned about his drug use. I would be, too. But he’s not in a place to listen to you right now. You said something about trust earlier. He doesn’t trust you.”

  Nathan seemed to recognize the truth in this. His attitude shifted into fix-it mode. “What can I do about that?”

  “Stop criticizing him so much.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t pretend everything is fine or let him disrespect me. I’m not the kind of parent who ignores problems. The ‘give every kid a trophy and say they’re all winners’ type.”

  “You think I am?”

  “I think Brooke would do well, no matter what.”

  She tried not to get annoyed and failed. Letting go of the sleeping bag, she turned toward him to look him in the eye. “I guess she didn’t need me to drive her to track meets and swimming lessons and volleyball games. She didn’t need me at practices three times a week and weekend tournaments, sitting in the stands in the rain.”

  His brows rose with surprise. “I only meant that she seems self-motivated, but I understand your point. Ray wasn’t there for Brooke. I wasn’t always there for Leo. That’s why I’m here now. I’m trying to make it up to him.”

  She relaxed at those words. At least Nathan could acknowledge his mistakes. He understood that his absences had affected Leo. “I’m not saying you should never criticize him. But you scolded him for getting sick earlier.”