Driving home, all I can think about is Hope. I’m going to have to break our date. I shower quickly, and because I know I can’t just not show up, I drive across town to her house. I’m almost two hours early for our date, but I figure I can at least put a note on her door if no one is home.
I knock on her front door and stand back. I can hear footsteps in the house and a gasp as the door is opened. On the other side is a woman around my age. She’s a little older than Hope maybe. Funny, she never told me she had a sister.
The woman looks shocked, and instantly I realize that I have forgotten about my scars. I’m sure they’re even more glaringly obvious in the bright light of the day. Dread fills my stomach, because this will be the first time Hope has seen me in the light. That is if she’s here.
“Hello. Is Hope home?”
The woman is rude and stares at my scars openly with disgust. “Uh, and who are you?”
“Cole Prince. I have a date with Hope.”
The woman looks at me in horror. “Uh, I don’t… uh,” she stutters.
I hear steps behind the woman and then Hope’s sing-song voice. “Kacey, is there someone at the door?”
Hope comes to stand beside the woman, and automatically I determine they are not sisters. They look nothing alike. Even now, Hope is smiling and happy, and the other woman is staring at me with a severe look on her face. “Hey! You’re early.” She smiles up at me.
I look between the woman and Hope. “Yeah, I’m sorry…”
Hope looks at the woman. “It’s fine. Kacey, you can go now.”
The other woman moves away from the door, muttering to Hope, “Your dad is not going to like this.”
Hope ignores her and walks out onto the porch, shutting the door behind her. “That’s my stepmom. Sorry,” she apologizes.
I shake my head. Stepmom? I try to remember our conversation about her family last night, and I know she mentioned her mom wasn’t in the picture anymore, but she never mentioned a stepmom.
“It’s fine. I know I scare some people. It is what it is.” I trail off, remembering her stepmom’s thoughts on what her dad is going to think of me. “So I didn’t have your number. But I need to cancel tonight.”
Hope looks up at me wide-eyed, and I can see the hurt in her deep blue eyes. Fuck! Instinct tells me to put my arms around her, and last night I probably would’ve. But now, in the light of the day with her stepmom probably inside calling her dad telling him there’s a freak here to pick up his daughter… well, it changes things. “Yeah, uh, my friend and his wife are in a bad place right now and I need to go see them… but I didn’t want to just not show up.”
She’s watching me closely, and I know I’m acting weird. Last night was so romantic and the chemistry was spot on. Today is real life. It’s ugly and scarred, and I should have figured last night was too good to be true. Why was I thinking I could have a normal life?
“Tell me about your friend,” she says. It’s not a request. She seems genuinely interested.
“We were in the army together. Jeremy was sort of the leader of our squadron. He was hit by the same bomb that did this.” I point at my face. “He’s married. Older. Has two teenage kids and a wife.”
She puts her hands on her hips. “Go on.”
I throw my hands up, frustrated, because I hate telling this story. Because this story could almost be my own. I shove my hands through my hair and start pacing back and forth on the porch. “I don’t know. He won’t talk to anyone. His wife is upset because he’s pushing her away, telling her to find someone else. He, fuck, I don’t know. I guess he doesn’t feel like a man anymore because he’s hurt and can’t do stuff like he used to. I don’t know.”
“What do you think?” she asks me.
I stop my pacing and stare at her, confused. “What do you mean what do I think?”
“Do you think she’s better off without him?”
“No!” I say instantly. “I saw them before all this. They love each other. It’s the real deal. If anything, I think they need each other more than ever now.”
She opens her front door and walks in as I stand there with my mouth open. What is she doing? I wait only a few seconds before she reappears with her purse over her shoulder. “I’m going with you.”
I hold my hands up to stop her. “No. You can’t do that.”
Again, she looks hurt. Fuck, I’ve hurt her twice in the last ten minutes. I need to stop. “What I mean is, this shit is ugly, Hope. Hell, I can’t take you on a second date to do this.”
She reaches for me then, her hand sliding around the back of my neck and forcing me down until our faces are only inches away from each other. “While you’re with Jeremy, his wife will need someone to talk to too. Let me go. I want to do this. I want to be with you.”
And then she kisses me. It’s a light touch of our lips, but it holds a promise of what’s to come. I know I should leave her here and go and handle this. But maybe she’s right. Maybe Peggy does need someone to talk to.
With her smiling up at me, with hope in her eyes, I know I can’t tell her no. I clench my eyes tightly, stopping the thoughts in my head of actually having a future with this woman and nod my head. “Let’s go.”
She kisses me again before grabbing my hand and walking with me to the truck.
5
Hope
The closer we get, the more nervous Cole is. We are almost there, and he’s barely said a word, making me wonder if I made the right decision in coming here. But listening to the way he talked about his friend and how he doesn’t think he deserves his wife’s love, well, it makes me see Cole and maybe what he’s feeling. He said himself he hasn’t dated since his accident. He’s self-conscious of his scars. But when he said he knew his friend and wife belonged together, I knew I wanted to be here with him. We’ve known each other less than twenty-four hours, but I can’t stop thinking about our future. I look over at him and his white knuckles clutching the steering wheel. Man, if he knew what I was thinking he’d probably run for the hills. I bet he thought, maybe even hoped he would get lucky tonight. For all I know, that could be all he wants. If he knew I was thinking about a future with him, he’d probably freak out. He definitely wouldn’t have let me come with him.
“If you’d rather I stayed in the car, I will,” I tell him, breaking the silence.
He seems to think about it and finally tells me with a glance in my direction, “No, I think I’d like you to come in. I think you’re right. Peggy was really upset on the phone, and she might need someone to talk to.” He pauses for a second, chancing another glance at me. “That is, if you’re still all right with it.”
Because I can’t go another second without touching him, I reach over and put my hand on top of his on the console between us. “I’m good with it.”
He turns his arm around until his palm is up, and he wraps my hand in his. I smile over at him as he looks at our intertwined hands. His is dark and scarred, with traces of gunpowder embedded in his skin. Mine is innocent and clean in comparison. In so many ways we are so different. But I’ve never felt any safer or more cared for as his thumb strokes across mine soothingly.