“There’s a developer in Temecula who’s trying to reclaim the area. He’s building a housing development and wants to buy the junkyard. I agreed to meet him on Wednesday.”
“Maybe you could go too,” Holly suggested. “If you wanted to see it again and if you don’t have to hurry home. I think it would be cool to go back to a place like that. See if it’s changed. I work Wednesday through Sunday at the hospital, otherwise I’d go along. I’ve been wanting to see this junkyard since Karson told me about it.”
Which was the reason I’d scheduled the meeting for a Wednesday. Holly was a supportive girlfriend, but this trip wasn’t for her.
“Uh . . . no.” Clara shook her head. “I don’t think . . . no.”
I nudged Holly, and this time, my headshake wasn’t to be ignored.
She didn’t know what she was suggesting. She didn’t know the pain it could cause Clara to go back to that place.
Holly didn’t even know the specifics of my childhood, let alone Clara’s. All I’d told her about my past was that I’d had a bad relationship with my mother and run away at sixteen.
Dinner conversation was nonexistent after that. At least, between the adults. August came to the rescue once more, providing the entertainment with tales of kindergarten and a long list of his favorite toys. When the waitress came with the check, Clara insisted on paying the bill.
“You brought me a car,” I said as we all walked outside. “You didn’t need to buy dinner.”
“I’m happy to. It was lovely to meet you, Holly.”
“You too.” Holly smiled. “I hope you keep in touch. Does Karson have your number?”
“I don’t.” I pulled my phone from my pocket, and when Clara recited hers, I sent her a text.
It dinged in her purse as she reached in to pull out the Cadillac’s keys. Clara turned them over in her palm, holding them for one long moment, then she handed them over. “She’s all yours.”
“Thank you.” The weight of the keys was too heavy. It wasn’t just handing over a car, it was the end.
This was goodbye.
“I’ll see you at home.” Holly gave my arm a gentle squeeze. Then she gave August a fist bump and walked to my Audi, the two of us having driven it here to meet Clara tonight.
I’d drive her to the hotel. Then go home.
To Holly.
We loaded up and I pulled away from the restaurant, finding it hard to meet even the minimum speed limit. Cars began to pile up behind us but I couldn’t press my foot into the gas pedal.
“Sorry. About Holly,” I told Clara. “She doesn’t understand.”
“No apologies needed. Most people don’t.”
The air was warm as it rushed past our faces. August seemed so content in this car. One of his hands rested on the door as he took in the world around him.
The Cadillac made too short a trip and as I parked in front of the entrance to the hotel, my lungs wouldn’t hold any air. The pain in my chest was crushing.
Clara was out the door the moment the tires stopped moving. She seemed in a rush to get August out of his seat and unclip the seat belt that had held it in place.
I got out, taking it from her to set it aside. “I could take you to the airport tomorrow.”
“No, that’s okay. We’ll get an Uber.”
“Mom, can we go swimming?”
“Sure, bud. Can you say goodbye to Karson?”
I knelt in front of him and held out my hand. “It was nice to meet you, August.”
He grinned as he shook it.
“Ouch.” I flexed my fingers after he let go. “Pretty strong kid you’ve got, Clara.”
She put her hand around his shoulders, pulling him into her legs as I stood.
Then I memorized her face, one last time. The pink bow of her lips. The golden flecks in her eyes. The smile that woke me from my dreams. The breeze picked up her scent and carried it closer. Oranges and vanilla. Sweet. Clara.
“It was good to see you.” My throat burned and the words came out in a rasp.
“You too.”
I waited, wanting that hug. Clara had always hugged goodbye.
Instead, I got a wave and a small smile. “Take care of yourself, Karson.”
“Yeah.”
Then she was gone, ushering August inside with one hand while she carried his seat with the other.
She left me standing beside a Cadillac with a hole in my chest.
I stood there for a few minutes, staring through the glass doors to the lobby, hoping and wishing maybe she’d come back. But when the desk clerk gave me the fifth strange look, I unglued my feet.
This was the end.
“Goodbye, Clara.”
The drive home was a blur, and when I walked through the door to find Holly in the living room with a book in her lap, for the first time, the sight didn’t make me smile.
“Hey.” She closed the book. “How’d it go?”
“Fine.”
“Do you want to—”
“I’m going to go for a run.” I walked away, but not fast enough to miss her startled expression.
I kept walking, disappearing to the bedroom to change. Then I was out the door, my feet pounding on the sidewalk to the beat of the music in my earbuds as I ran the couple blocks to the beach. When I hit the sand, I pushed harder. Faster. With every step, I willed Clara out of my mind.
There was a woman in my house who loved me. A woman who made me laugh. A woman who I cared for.
Holly didn’t deserve this from me. I would do better.
Tomorrow, I vowed to do better.
Clara was returning to Arizona, and I would forget about her.
Or . . . try. I would try.
I pushed myself until my legs were burning and my lungs were on fire. Sweat dripped down my face and over my bare chest. I hadn’t bothered with a shirt, I rarely did.
Three miles from home, I stopped and collapsed on the sand, resting my forearms on my knees until I regained my breath. Then I sat there for hours, watching as the sunlight faded from the sky.
Tonight. I’d give myself tonight to mourn the loss of Clara again.
Then tomorrow I’d let her go. For good this time.
Lost in my own head, I jumped when my phone rang, the jogging earbuds I wore still locked in place. When I tugged the phone from my shorts pocket, I expected to see Holly’s name on the screen.
But it was an out-of-state number. A number I’d memorized the same moment I’d typed it in earlier tonight.
“Hi,” I answered.
“Hi,” Clara said, her voice low. August must have fallen asleep. “Are you busy?”
“No.” My heart raced faster now than when I’d been running.
“I was thinking about what Holly said. About Wednesday.”
“Come with me.” The plea in my voice was unmistakable. “I don’t want to go alone. And I don’t want to take Holly. She’s the best. It’s just that . . .”
“She doesn’t get it.”
I shook my head. “No one does.”
“Okay,” she whispered.
“Okay, you’ll go?”
“I’ll go.”
I closed my eyes as a wave of relief crashed over my body. She was coming. Tonight hadn’t been goodbye. “I’ll pick you up around ten tomorrow.”