“Amen, sister.” Tilting his head, he pressed a gentle kiss to her pretty lips, then moved to rest his forehead against hers. “But I still want to hear it from you when the opiates are all out of your system.”
“Deal.”
And the following morning, she told him the same thing all over again.
Epilogue
Late February
The lighting inside Bluey’s was a shade less atmospheric than usual on this frigid Monday night. Then again, it was a far from typical evening at the blues club. Jon-Michael and Hayley had rented the space for their engagement party.
Sounds of celebration: the boisterous laughter of their guests, the rise and fall of conversations, the clink of glasses and murmurs of appreciation over the beautifully presented, tasty hors d’oeuvres being circulated by the high school kids she had hired for the night, made Hayley smile.
Yet even as she appreciated the way Janiva Magness’s lament about some guy who was never hers poured from the speakers to weave its way through the joyous party noise, she found herself peeking out the window. For the umpteenth time.
A strong hand rubbed circles between her shoulder blades. “She’ll be here,” Jon-Michael assured her in a low voice.
“I know.” She turned to smile at him. “She called to let me know her stinkin’ flight finally touched down.” Which was old news she promptly waved aside. “It’s still a long drive.”
“Kurstie drives like a maniac and will be here before you know it.” Leaning down, Jon-Michael pressed his lips to the curve where her neck met her shoulder. “In the meantime, how about we relax and enjoy the party?” he murmured. “It’s our night to crow.”
Her love for this man filled every atom of her being, pushing aside her impatience to see her best friend sooner rather than later. She missed Kurstie, but the past seven months had been the happiest of Hayley’s life. “You’re right. She will get here when she gets here.” She smoothed his black and gold Art Deco inspired tie over his shirt and gave him a peck on the lips. “Buy a girl a drink?”
“You got it.” With his hand pressed lightly against the small of her back, he steered her toward the bar.
Hayley stopped halfway there to introduce Jon-Michael to two Lincoln High teachers she’d built a friendship with since joining the staff in September. She smiled as he charmed their pants off in his laid back, low-key way. When the women excused themselves to freshen their drinks, Jon-Michael’s secretary intercepted them to shyly introduce her boyfriend and tell them they really knew how to throw a party.
The boyfriend heartily agreed. “I particularly liked the photo booth,” he said, whipping out the strip the young couple had taken to show them.
The entire night just warmed Hayley’s soul and she laughed when they reached the bar. “Best. Engagement party. Ever.” She turned to Bluey, who was personally bartending tonight. “Vodka and cranberry, please.”
“You got it.” He assembled her drink and poured Jon-Michael a club soda on the rocks. “Nice turnout,” he observed as he slid their drinks across the bar.
“It is. I was tickled when so many people RSVPed.”
A board member pulled Jon-Michael aside to discuss something and Bluey left to wait on the group who hailed him from the other end of the bar. They had barely walked away when a male voice at her shoulder said, “Hey.”
She swiveled to see Joe standing behind her with his arm draped over Lucy’s shoulders. Hayley had been surprised when the two hooked up around Christmas. She never would have predicted the combination, but they worked as a couple. “Hey, yourselves,” she said and gave them both a hug.
Stepping back from Lucy, she ran her gaze over the other woman’s one-shouldered Ed Hardy dress and reached out to tweak its silky fabric. “This is so you! And I love the red in your hair, too. Very chic.”
They visited for a few minutes before Lucy excused herself to discuss something business related with Bluey, who was still at the far end of the counter. She had barely walked away when Joe edged Hayley away from the bar. Next thing she knew, the two of them were the sole occupants of a temporarily empty space. She raised her eyebrows at him.
Joe gently touched the edge of his thumb to what she knew, despite careful makeup application, were faint shadows beneath her eyes. “Jon-Michael tells me you’ve had trouble sleeping since Patsy’s death.”
Her first inclination was to dodge the implicit question with a few facile platitudes. Instead she nodded. Because if anyone was likely to understand the emotions she’d been dealing with, it was Joe. “I can’t shake the feeling I should have done more for Patsy while she was alive,” she admitted in a low voice. “It kills me that not only did I not, I often went out of my way to avoid her.”
“You’re talking to the man who moved out once he saw how screwed up his wife was,” he replied. “So I get the guilt. The difference here is I’ve had a little longer to process everything. I spent a lot of time, both before and after Pats died, trying to figure out what the hell drove her to want to hurt people for cri’sake.”
“And did you reach any conclusions?” Because I could really use a conclusion.
“You ask me, if anyone is to blame for twisting Patsy’s psyche, it was her bitch of a mother.”
“Which makes me feel even guiltier for not trying harder with her.”
“Hayley, she was damn good at hiding how messed up she’d become. You could have devoted every damn day to her and I bet the end result would have been the same. Most of us have more than one friend and naturally you would’ve divided your attention between yours. Patsy was incapable of accepting that. As for not doing enough? Jesus, look at the huge favor you did her by calling out her mom. I’m sure Patsy’s hero-worship started out as a harmless talisman against her mother’s constant belittling. Yet, aside from a pathological need to know your every thought, did Patsy ever simply say she was sorry for your troubles and let it go at that?”
Hayley shook her head.
“Neither did I, and I am sorrier than I can say for my insensitivity. I think too damn many of us looked at the events turning your life upside down as if it was an exciting big-screen thriller. But the difference between the rest of the town and Patsy is in the end her hero worship morphed into something that damn near got you killed.”
Reaching for her hands, Joe held her gaze with a keenly serious one of his own. “So, big deal, you didn’t want to spend twenty-four/seven with her. Except for maybe Jon-Michael, is there anyone you have a desire to spend such concentrated time with?”
No. Not even Jon-Michael, if truth be told—and she loved him like her next breath. But she had always needed private time that was hers alone. The guilt, which had robbed her of sleep on a near-nightly basis, suddenly felt lighter. A wispier burden a fresh new breeze might whisk away.
She leaned in to kiss Joe’s cheek. As she stepped back she gave his hand a fierce squeeze. “Thank you. You didn’t say anything I haven’t tried telling myself—but it has more weight coming from you. I get the feeling you struggled with the guilt as much as I did.”
“Yeah.” He shot her a crooked smile. “But I’ve learned to let it go.” dpgroup