It was too late. I was too late.
Tears flooded my eyes as I spun around to face him. I’d worked so hard today to keep them at bay and hide my emotions from my coworkers and Aria. But there was no hiding from Karson, not anymore.
He stepped closer and caught the first tear as it dropped down my cheek. “Don’t cry.”
“I don’t want to say goodbye.”
“Then we won’t.”
A sob escaped right as he pulled me into his arms, holding me close as I cried. More footsteps sounded in the truck and when one of Karson’s arms loosened, it was only to make room for Aria to join our huddle.
The three of us clung to one another, and when Karson finally let us go, my tears had soaked his shirt and Aria was sniffling.
“Where will you go?” she asked him.
“Exploring,” Karson and I answered in unison, then laughed.
“Out of Temecula, that’s for sure,” he said, then looked to me. “And maybe someday, to visit you two in Vegas. I expect you’ll be running the town by then.”
I forced a smile. “That’s the plan.”
“What time are you leaving?” Aria asked.
“Early. You?”
“We’ll go to the bus station first thing,” I said. “The bus to Vegas leaves at nine. But we’ll be early, just in case.”
“So this is it. The last night. Calls for a celebration.”
“Like what?” I followed him as he walked to the end of the truck to look out at the junkyard.
“Peanut butter and honey sandwiches, of course.”
Hours later, after the sun had set and Aria had fallen asleep, I snuck out of the truck, careful not to wake her, and I made my way to the tent.
Karson’s lantern was on. His bags were packed beside the door and he was sitting on his bed.
Waiting for me.
Neither of us spoke as he took me in his arms and kissed me breathless. Or as he stripped off my clothes and his own. Or as he made love to me, one last time, holding me tight until morning.
I refused to fall asleep when he drifted off. Instead, I clung to him until the first rays of dawn lit the sky, and I snuck to the shop for a shower before he or Aria woke up.
While Aria was in the bathroom, I found the small notebook and pen Aria kept in her pack and tore out a page. Then I wrote Lou a note, leaving it at the base of his front door.
* * *
I love you, Lou. Thank you.
Clara
* * *
“Goodbye, Lou,” I whispered to his shack. “Take care of yourself.”
Aria had done her farewell yesterday. Never before had her plants looked so green and her flowers so bold as they did around his shack. She’d staged them so artfully, I doubted even a professional gardener would have done such a nice job.
While she collected her things, I set out a bowl of cat food for Katherine’s cat. Then I took the half-empty bag of food to the shop, leaving it beside the door where Lou would find it.
“I didn’t think I’d be sad,” Aria said as we both stood outside the truck.
I had. I’d known this would hurt.
We each wore a backpack on our shoulders and held another in our hands. On the wall, I’d erased yesterday’s number, but I hadn’t written anything in its place.
“Thank you,” I said to the truck, my chin quivering. Thank you for being our home. Thank you for being our refuge. Thank you for keeping us safe.
With tears in my eyes, I took Aria’s hand. Then, like the day we’d come here, we walked, together, toward the gate.
I didn’t look at the Cadillac. I didn’t look at the tent.
I knew it would be empty.
I kept my face forward and my feet moving until we journeyed down our road one last time. Until we were at the station with bus tickets in our pockets. And as I settled into my seat on the bus that would take us to Vegas, I replayed the last words we’d said to each other before he’d fallen asleep.
“Happy Birthday, Clara.”
“Will I ever see you again?”
“I hope so. I really hope so.”
Chapter Nine
Karson
Twelve years later . . .
“It’s really you.”
Clara Saint-James.
There she was, standing in my driveway, and all I could do was grin at her like a fool. She looked beautiful. More beautiful than I’d ever imagined.
“It’s really me.” She smiled and my heart fluttered. Her smile had always hit me dead center.
The boy at her side stared up at me. Other than a quick glance, I hadn’t paid him much attention, because it was impossible to tear my eyes away from Clara for long.
God, I’d imagined this. I’d hoped for this. Just to see her again, in the flesh, and know that she was safe. Know that she’d found a new life. Know that she was happy.
“What are you doing here?”
“It’s a long story.” She waved a hand toward her car.
I followed the movement, taking in the classic Cadillac. It was a stunner, but nothing like Clara. The hood ornament, a V embossed with red and gold and silver, glinted under the sun. It looked familiar. Too familiar.
I knew that ornament.
I knew that car.
“Wait. Is this . . .”
Clara nodded. “Looks a little different than it did back in the day, huh?”
“What? How?” My jaw dropped as I rushed to the car, splaying my hands on the cherry-red hood, the metal still warm. I walked along the Cadillac’s side, inspecting and savoring every inch. “I can’t believe it. I can’t believe this is the same car. It’s incredible.”
The Cadillac was a dream. It looked nothing like the rusted heap it had been so many years ago. The interior was refinished in a white, soft leather. The dash, which had been cracked and busted, was new. The polished chrome accents sparkled.
I had no idea what had brought this car and Clara to California, but what a Sunday surprise.
Skimming my fingers over a rear fin that bordered the broad trunk, I touched the car again just to prove it was real. “I bet I won’t find peanut butter and honey stashed in here like we used to.”
She scoffed. “Most definitely not.”
“How?” Clara was the best of this surprise visit, but the car was the literal red cherry on top.
“Londyn,” she said.
“Londyn.” I nodded, rounding the trunk. “Before Lou died, he told me that she’d called and bought the car. But I didn’t expect to see it again. How do you have it?”
“Kind of a long story.” She looked down at the boy and smiled. “We surprised you today. Want to meet for dinner or something? If you’re free?”
“I’m free now.” There was no way I was letting her out of my sight. Not yet. I glanced down at the boy who watched my every step as I approached. I crouched down in front of him and held out a hand for a shake. “But how about some introductions first? I’m Karson. What’s your name?”
“August.” He looked at my hand, then slapped his to mine, grabbing it tighter than I would have expected for a young kid. One hard shake and he looked up at Clara and smiled.