27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

P ulling up to her mom’s apartment complex this time felt 180 degrees different from yesterday. So many questions she’d had about her mom’s true identity and motivations were answered, though there was still much to learn. But those feelings and questions paled in comparison to the ones she was having about Clark. She wasn’t sure she could let him go without getting answers, but all of her attempts on the drive over to wheedle more information out of him fell flat. He answered in ambiguities and generalizations, all highly frustrating.

Cleo let Clark unload her bag from the trunk. She thrust her hands into her back pockets. She didn’t trust that they wouldn’t betray her by doing something she’d later regret, like grabbing onto Clark’s shirt and begging him to stay. He set her bag down next to her and crossed his arms, then uncrossed them, then mirrored her by putting them in his back pockets. He looked as uncertain as she was about their goodbye.

“Well, Roy Kent, I’ll be honest: I never thought I’d be sad to watch you drive away.” Why did snark come out of her mouth when she felt awkward and unsure? There were so many things she wanted to say to him right now, but her nerves presented as sarcasm.

He sighed and said, “Come here, Little Princess.” Reaching out and tugging her shirt, he pulled her into the hard wall of his chest and wrapped his arms around her like he was trying to keep her. Her arms flew around his waist as she buried her face in a shirt that smelled like laundry soap. Had he done laundry at the hotel last night? Why didn’t she think of that? And why, by all that’s holy, was she fixating on laundry soap while a gorgeous man held her? He enveloped her so tightly she could feel his heartbeat reverberate through her body. Just when she thought he’d let go, he tightened his hold even more and buried his face in her hair.

“You smell like…what is that scent? It’s been driving me crazy the whole trip.”

The scent was one she’d never used before this trip, but it had grown on her. “It’s coconut and avocado oil.”

He sniffed. “It suits you. A blend of the exotic and familiar.”

What did he mean by that? She’d have to unpack that description later.

He continued. “You’re going to be fine, you know that?” Was he trying to reassure Cleo or himself? “You found your mom, and you’re going to be ok.” Cleo began to repeat the sentiment to Clark but found she couldn’t. Would Clark be okay? She didn’t know what demons he was facing, but she knew there was something big, and she didn’t know if he’d be able to fight them alone.

“Are you?” she asked instead, pulling away. Her arms felt barren without him.

Clark looked down at the pavement and kicked a rock to the side. “I’ll be fine.”

“Why don’t I believe you when you say that?”

“I have some things to take care of, but I’ll be fine.

Cleo inhaled deeply. “And then what?”

“What do you mean?”

“Will I ever see you again?”

Clark cocked his head to the side. “Do you want to see me again?”

Cleo snorted in disbelief, and Clark stepped backward, surprised. She covered her nose and the smile that was threatening and composed herself before replying, “Yes, Clark, I’d very much like to see you again.” Was she wearing her heart on her sleeve for all to see, or were her feelings for him only obvious to her?

The corners of his mouth lifted. “Then it’s a date. I’ll be in touch.” Fizzy bubbles filled her chest. A date! Even if that was just an expression, she would hold him to it.

“It’s a date,” she repeated. He smothered her in one final hug that was much too brief, then strode back to the car and got in without another word. Cleo waved as the car pulled away, and she thought she saw Clark’s eyes catch hers in the mirror once before he was gone. Cleo stayed on that sidewalk for several minutes, watching where the car had disappeared around a corner, before she picked up her bag and found the path to her mom’s apartment.

Patty answered the door with a giant smile on her face. It helped dispel the gloom Cleo felt from watching Clark drive away, though thoughts of him intruded much too often as she spoke with her mom throughout the day.

They ate lunch together outside on a back patio overlooking a duck pond. Patty peppered her with questions about her life between each bite. Cleo told her the highlights, glossing over much of the sad bits, before she recognized the unfairness of what she was doing.

She wiped her mouth and set down the napkin. “You know what, I’m not being completely honest.” Patty’s forehead raised in a question. “I’m painting this rosy picture of my life, when in reality it had plenty of thorns, all for the person whose absence was the reason for most of the sad parts.” Her mom’s brow furrowed. “I don’t say that to make you feel worse; actually, I think it only fair that you know that not everything was great. That most of what sucked was because I had an evil stepmother, when I could’ve had you!”

Patty swiped at her cheek before Cleo grabbed her hand. “That’s not coming out right either. I’m not saying that everything would’ve been perfect. I’m sure I would’ve been a frustrating kid and a rebellious teen and we would’ve clashed over plenty of things. But we would’ve figured our way through them, and maybe I’d have done better at managing Daddy with your help.” Cleo then told Patty how she’d allowed her father to manipulate her into marrying Jameson, and how she’d finally had the courage in the eleventh hour to choose her own path.

Her mom’s mouth hung open. “You mean to tell me that you fled your wedding to a man you didn’t love, got in a car with two strangers, and drove here from New York to find me?”

“That about sums it up.”

Her mom jumped out of her seat. “Well, where are you staying? And where is this Clark? I need to thank him.” Cleo explained her situation and her mom slowly sat back down. “Well, you have to stay here now. I insist.” Her chin came up in a gesture that reminded Cleo of herself in stubborn moments.

“I would be happy to. But only until I sort out my next move.”

Patty’s head dipped and she looked up shyly. “What if your next move were to stay here with me?” Cleo must’ve looked surprised because Patty’s hands came out in a placating gesture. “I don’t want to pressure you. The last thing you need is another parent who bullies you into doing something you don’t want to do. It’s just a thought.”

Cleo smiled. “I’ll think about it. And thank you.”

Patty asked, “For what?”

“For wanting me.” Patty embraced her daughter in a hug that felt like coming home. It was different from the hug Clark had given her, but just as welcome.

***

Over the next several days Cleo stayed at Patty’s place, sleeping quite comfortably on the couch. Who knew a couch could be a cozy bed? Before this trip, Cleo might’ve balked at the idea, but after all the places she’d slept on this road trip, she felt like even a park bench might be doable. Well, maybe a park bench with a memory foam pad on it, that is.

While Patty went to work, Cleo cleaned or read or went on long walks. She got to know Tina a little, as well as Jimmy, who she found out was Tina’s companion. Patty referred to their living arrangement as a Three’s Company situation, but Cleo had no idea what that meant. Still, it seemed to her like a happy little family.

Tina and Jimmy were a bit wary of Cleo at first, but it didn’t take long for Cleo to break down their walls and gain a little bit of trust. She could respect that they would be nervous about anyone from Patty’s past.

A delightful discovery she made was that Patty and Tina crocheted little doggy sweaters, which they took to their local animal shelter. Patty assured her it did get relatively cold in the winter in San Antonio, and Tina worried about those animals staying warm enough in the shelters. Tina patiently taught Cleo how to crochet, and she picked it up fast.

Cleo updated Bea on her situation in a phone call. “I make dog sweaters now, Bea. They’re the darlingest little things. I’ve already made two for Fenton. I may just make one for me one of these days. Don’t worry, I’ll crochet a matching one for us both.” Bea laughed and said she’d better. She filled Bea in on her mom and even Dottie, but stayed pretty quiet about Clark for some unknown reason. Bea wasn’t dumb, though. She knew when Cleo was keeping something from her, and she called her on it. But Cleo didn’t really know what to say.

She and Clark had been texting. He’d made it back in time to save his job, though anytime she asked him about it he changed the subject. Why was his job the one thing he never talked with her about? It turned out he hadn’t written any books. Google searches, however, revealed dozens of newspaper articles written by Clark Jonas, the pen name he said he wrote under. He was a good writer: insightful with a touch of humor one might not pick up on if they didn’t know him in person.

Clark texted one night, "The leaves are starting to change. I love New York in the fall."

"That’s from You’ve Got Mail."

"It doesn’t make it any less true."

"I love New York in the winter."

"No one likes New York in the winter."

"I do! There aren’t as many tourists, and Central Park is magical when it snows."

"Maybe that’s my problem. I don’t go outside when it goes below 40."

Cleo’s jaw dropped. "What? No wonder you’re a grinch. You have to embrace the cold!"

"Are you telling me I’ve been doing it wrong all this time?"

"I’m telling you that when I get back to the city, I’m going to show you why Manhattan in December is beautiful too."

"Does that mean you’re coming back?"

Cleo hadn’t meant to give a specific date. "I don’t know yet."

"Are you going to Dottie’s wedding?"

Cleo had also been texting with Dottie, once she got her number from Clark. The wedding was in two weeks, and Cleo was an honorary bridesmaid. She had to find a peach-colored dress to wear. Peach! Cleo wasn’t sure she’d worn anything peach in her entire life. "I am. You?"

"I’m going to try."

Well, that was not the strong yes Cleo was hoping for.

He asked, "Are you flying or driving?"

"My mom and I are going to drive up together. She has some vacation days she needs to take and wants to meet Dottie and see the Black-Eyed Susan."

"That will be nice."

It would be even nicer if Clark were there, too, but she wasn’t going to admit that. She wanted to formally introduce him to her mom, too, since she hadn’t done it when he was there.

Cleo said, "I guess Dale is selling his house and has already moved to Dottie’s."

"I hope they’ll be very happy together."

So did Cleo. They deserved it.

They talked about Patty then, and Clark’s sisters and parents and the funny thing his dog did on their run that morning. She wanted to get to know the real Clark, but he held himself back from her. He’d shared pieces of his life, but not enough. It felt like being brought a small appetizer when she wanted a twelve-course meal. Did he close himself off to everyone, or just to some people? Cleo didn’t want to be “some people,” though. He was going to be a tough nut to crack, and that gooey center she’d glimpsed a few times was going to be even harder to reach long- distance. She needed to see him again, but she wasn’t ready to go back to New York. She’d just have to convince him to come for the wedding.