22. Backseat Confessions

Chapter 22

Backseat Confessions

The night had been an unexpected thrill ride with the last person Joy had imagined taking her on one. Not only was looking at Charlie causing her stomach to do flips, but dancing with him had taken the flips to the gainers level. Then there was watching him on stage, bending the guitar to his will with electrifying ease. And his voice! Smooth as chocolate silk and positively panty-melting. Sure, they'd been in a dive bar in the middle of nowhere when he'd belted out nineties tunes, but Charlie Hunnicutt's stage persona had had her checking for drool. He was all swagger and fun and sex appeal rolled into one mighty fine package.

If he were a professional touring rocker, she would have signed up for groupie duty and followed him around the world just to bask in the shadow of his sunny smile.

And lucky her, the man that was making stars dance in her eyes was tracing tiny circles on her hand, sending tingles rippling outward like a stone thrown into a pond. Who knew such a simple touch could turn the blood coursing through her veins into a SodaStream ?

Yet she was letting the past intrude on this fairy tale she was currently immersed in. She hated the self-pity she'd indulged in since she'd rolled into Fall River. In Chicago, those doors remained firmly locked at all times. All these years, she'd managed to bottle up the demons, but now it was as though someone had ripped off the cap and set them free to wreak havoc in her world. And she had absolutely no idea how to stuff the monsters back into their container.

She sat on her free hand, digging her fingers into the leather seat beneath her, trying to quell the beer suds threatening to rise up.

"You'd better settle in," she warned her unwitting audience of one. "I want you to know I wouldn't be doing this without a barrel of beer in my belly."

"Maybe so, maybe not. Either way, if you decide you've shared enough, just tell me and that'll be it. I won't push you to keep going."

Oh hell's bells! There was no backing out now. If she did bail on the story, she'd basically be telling Charlie she didn't trust him, and that would have been an out-and-out lie.

He watched her carefully—not as if he expected her to fly off the handle at any moment, but like he was preparing himself to catch her if she did. As if he would do his utmost to be sure she didn't splat. As if he wanted to protect her. He was her safety net. More than that, he was proving to be her lifeline to Fall River. As long as he acted as a buttress, she was safe. Which was such an odd feeling, after her first impressions and knowing him for only a short time … especially after being a woman alone on her island for a lifetime.

It was probably the beer messing with her mind. She never drank the stuff, and her system didn't know what to do with it.

That had to be it.

Charlie leaned against the seat, looking impossibly laid-back in the cramped space.

Here goes. "Way back when, our family was made up of my mom, my dad, my older sister, and me. We were a typical family—not too rich, not too poor, went on picnics, watched TV—until my dad died. I was four at the time, so my memories of him are few and fuzzy, but those I do have are … nice. He was warm and kind and had this smile that made me shine inside. He used to call me his little princess. "

The forgotten memory brought her to an abrupt halt. Her mouth dropped open. "I didn't remember the nickname until just now."

"I guess it fits," Charlie remarked with a wry smile.

She gathered her wits. "I was closer to him than I was to my mother. I don't recall any terms of endearment from her or any warmth at all. She saved it for my sister. It was like each of us girls had her own assigned parent, you know? And when my dad died, I felt as though I'd lost the only parent I had. I was orphaned. His death threw my world into a tailspin."

"I can only imagine."

"I wasn't the easiest kid." She let out a mirthless chuckle. "Bet that's a surprise, huh?"

"No, can't say it is." His smile softened, and his eyes overflowed with compassion.

"I had—rather, I do have ADHD. Medical knowledge around the disorder was in its infancy, and I wasn't diagnosed. Lots of kids weren't. Nevertheless, my dad's death amped up my problem behavior. I turned into a wild child, or so I'm told. I couldn't stay put; I couldn't focus. A hurricane of thoughts and ideas constantly swirled in my head, and it was exhausting. Debilitating. It was as if every thought in the world bombarded me at the same time, and I had no ability to filter out what was important versus the irrelevant stuff. It all carried the same weight, and I couldn't control the influx.

"It still happens, but I've gotten better at managing the flow. And there are meds—Adderall, specifically—but I hate taking it. Long story short, my mother couldn't handle my behavior. Couldn't handle me. Her parenting style and my kid style did not mesh. Many fights, lots of tears. It compounded the stress during a time when we were near a breaking point. My mother used to tell me she hated me, and I'm pretty sure I hated her too."

She covered her eyes for a beat. "God, what an awful thing to admit!"

"We don't have to keep going." Charlie's warm voice wrapped around her heart, buffering it.

Sitting here in the dimness of the car's back seat with him, with his tiny caresses on her hand and his soothing voice, she dug down and unearthed the courage to yank off the layers of Band-Aids she'd slapped over the wound since childhood. And now that she'd thrown open the gate, the story was stacking on itself like huge blocks pushing to tumble out .

She pulled in a breath. Charlie grasped her hand in his, and his thumb continued to stroke her skin. Such a light, intimate touch that calmed her more than she would have believed possible.

He gave a little shrug of his solid, broad shoulder. "Kids naturally have more energy than adults. It doesn't sound that different from our household, except we had two parents. By the time I came along, they had their A-game down. I'm sure it wasn't easy, but there were two of them to split the load."

The little squeeze he gave her hand encouraged her to continue. "My mother got into some woo-woo stuff—I'm sure she was looking for answers—and decided to move to Colorado after listening to some shaman tell her she would ‘find' herself here and that her world would be in harmony once more. So she packed us up, and we left our home, our friends, and everything we knew behind in Nebraska. On our way to Fall River, she deposited me on my aunt and uncle's doorstep without a word of warning and without an iota of emotion. When I asked her why, she said they were better equipped to raise me. But there was one tiny detail she overlooked: they already had three kids. I became this add-on, a burden no one wanted who got in the way. No matter how hard I tried, I didn't fit."

"No warning at all?"

Joy let out a bitter laugh. "Nope. And I'll never forget that night. I was confused about why she left Mary and our packed car at the curb and walked me up to their house. I was just a little kid. I kept asking questions—I'm sure I annoyed the hell out of her—and she told me to shush, that everything was going to work out. Despite our clashes, I trusted her—she was my mother—so I obeyed. What else could I have done?

"We stood on the front stoop, and she rang the doorbell. My uncle opened the door, took my bag, and led me inside. Mom didn't come in. No explanation, no good-bye, no ‘I love you.' One last awkward hug in the doorway, and she was off and running. As my uncle brought me into the living room, my aunt scowled and warned me that I'd better not act out while I lived under their roof. She called me a little urchin—that became her pet name for me. Boom. Welcome to your new life, Joy."

Something tickled her face, and when she brushed at it, she realized tears were trailing down her cheeks.

"Are there any tissues in the car?" Charlie prompted.

She gave him a dismissive wave. "No, but it's fine. "

"Do you want to keep going?"

She sniffled. "Oddly enough, I do, if you don't mind listening."

"Joy, I want to hear the rest of the story."

A little sigh of relief left her body. "It didn't get much better from there. The house was cramped, so I shared a bedroom with my girl cousin, who was about my age and who resented the hell out of having to give up her privacy. She and the boys mocked me constantly and called me all kinds of names. When no one was looking, they'd punch or kick me. They were cruel. If I complained to my aunt and uncle, they would either accuse me of making stuff up or tell me I got what was coming to me because I was a difficult child.

"There was this strange paradigm where when anybody from outside was around, like at church on Sundays, they acted as though I was as precious to them as their own children. As soon as it was only us again, they went right back to treating me like I wasn't worth the dirt on their shoes. I was part of the family when it reflected well on them, yet not when it was just us. I was in this constant yo-yo of emotions, and it was so confusing. One minute I was elated because I thought they were finally accepting me, and the next I was devastated all over again. And every time it happened, the devastation grew exponentially worse.

"I kept hoping that my mother would come back, that this was temporary. But she never did. As hard as living with my mother and sister had been after my dad's death, being at my aunt and uncle's was ten times worse."

"Did you see your mom and sister at Christmas? Summer break?"

She wiped the other cheek. "She sent for me twice when I was a kid. As I grew older, I visited on my own a few times, but none of the visits lasted more than a week. The shop was … it wasn't home. It wasn't anything like the home we had in Nebraska."

Charlie tucked her hand under his, trapping it against his thigh. "You didn't have a home."

His simple words struck like an arrow to the heart. Not that they weren't true, but she'd never thought about her past that way. No wonder she'd been adrift during those terrible years.

Tears flowed hot and wet down her cheeks, and she let them come. "No, I didn't." Her wavering voice gathered strength. "But you know what? Leaving was so much easier when I graduated high school. I got a job, and I left. I was lost and angry at the world, but that anger motivated me. I wanted to show everyone how wrong they'd been about me. I went after grants and scholarships and got the ones I applied for. I learned coping skills for my ADHD and eventually got the medical help I needed. Nothing and no one held me back anymore. I studied and I worked hard, and I started making lots of money so no one could ever tell me where to go or what to do. I set one goal after another, raising the bar higher and higher, until I shattered every single one." She let out a teary laugh. "And here I sit, in the back seat of a rental car in Doro, Colorado, spilling my guts to a man I didn't know until two weeks ago."

He chuckled softly. "Bet you're as surprised as I am." His voice turned somber. "Wanting to demolish your mother's place makes sense to me now."

"I suppose it does."

Joy had never shared the details of her early childhood with anyone but her therapist. That she felt safe enough to confide in this man holding her hand was surreal and wonderful at the same time. How easy he made it. Although the sharing had started with Hailey—another person Joy hadn't known until recently. When Joy had confided in her new friend, the cracks had begun forming in her fortress wall, and now it was nothing but rubble, leaving her exposed—yet freer.

"So now that you know the whole ugly story of why Fall River isn't my favorite place," she ventured into the silence, "are you sorry you're partnering with me on the project?"

He studied her, his expression reflecting a thoughtfulness, as if he was processing and measuring his words before uttering them.

"Can I be completely honest?"

She cringed inside. "Please." Honesty was a good thing—she liked honesty—but how much was too much? She was about to find out, and she braced herself.

You can do this.

His steely eyes wandered across the car's headliner before landing back on her. "I don't think it's Fall River you resent. It's your mom and your sister, and you associate them with the town. I'm no expert, but it's probably easier to focus anger on a place than it is against family. And for what it's worth, I don't blame you. You got seriously hosed." He wagged his head back and forth. "I could say I get what you went through, but I've never experienced anything remotely like it, so I can't begin to fathom how brutal it must have been for the little girl you were. But I do know this: it makes the person you became even more remarkable. So, hell yeah, I'm ecstatic we're together on this project—even if you are a royal pain in my ass."

A little grin tugged at his lips, and she barked out a relieved laugh as hope zipped through her veins. Her lower lip wobbled, and she bit it to keep from bursting into another round of tears. She hated showing any weakness, and here it was on full display.

He leaned forward, his glittering eyes boring into hers. "Let's show Helene how badly she misjudged her talented, capable daughter. We'll send Mary the ‘after' pictures and show her too. Your whole goddamn family, if you want."

She had to sit on her hands to keep from launching herself at him and throwing her arms around him. "Thank you," she said in a strangled voice instead. With emotion closing her throat, it was the only sound she could eke out.

He released her hand, and she jerked it back into her lap, suddenly self-conscious. "I don't know why I dumped all this on you."

"Because I asked you to."

"I'm so sorry. I had a fun evening, and now I'm ruining it by dwelling on old hurts that don't even matter anymore." And I've probably convinced you I'm utterly insane and that you need to run the hell away.

The parking lot lights filtering into the car cast shadows over his shifting expressions. Pleats appeared between his dark brows, no doubt put there by the self-pity party she'd decided to throw and forced him to attend.

Old resentments died a long, agonizing death, and Joy was caught in the throes that Charlie was unlucky enough to witness.

But then he surprised her—again. "Who says you're ruining anything? I'm enjoying spending time with you, hearing about your past. That's the most you've ever told me about your personal life, and … I don't know. I see it as a badge of honor that you trusted me enough to do that."

Supporting his weight on a fist, he leaned in and ran his fingertip down the bridge of her nose. "And those old hurts? They do matter. Maybe they happened to young Joy, but they shaped who you are, and who you are is a kick-ass woman. Don't beat yourself up because once in a while those memories decide it's time for a reunion. We don't have any control over that."

Oh my God, this man! Was he real, or a figment of Lacey Dewinter's imagination? He seemed nothing like the contractor she'd met on the sidewalk in front of Crystal Harmony Haven. Had he changed? Or were her eyes wide open and she was seeing him for the first time? Didn't matter if it was the alcohol swimming in her system that gave her the vision. Clarity surged inside of her, and the empowerment it carried made her giddy.

"This is the part where my therapist would add, ‘But we can control how we react.'"

"Sounds like something practical my mom would say."

Joy's shoulders had been bracketing her ears, and now they eased as the conversation drifted away from past heartaches. "She seems nice from what I've heard about her, your mom."

"Yeah, she's the best mom I've ever had."

A laugh bubbled up inside her. "You're lucky that you're surrounded by good people."

"They're not all good, and it's not all luck, but that's a choice too." Eyes sliding to the side, he pursed his lips, suddenly far away. Where had he gone? And just like that, he was back, his casual gaze back on her. "Of the people in your life, who would you keep?"

"I'd keep Hailey," Joy blurted out.

A chuckle rumbled through his chest. "Hailey's definitely a keeper."

"I'd also keep Estelle."

"Who's Estelle?"

"She's my assistant back in Chicago. I-I'm not always nice to her, but she gives it right back. She's also one of the biggest-hearted, most patient people I know, which is probably why she hasn't fired me as a boss yet."

"Are you friends?"

Joy tilted her head. "I think so. In fact, she might be my best friend, which is a weird thing to say about someone who works for you. And now I'm babbling."

"I like hearing you babble."

Joy's heart swelled, and she squirmed in her seat like a teenager. Unsure what else to do with them, she shoved her hands under her butt again. And this was the kick-ass woman Charlie referred to? Ha !

Beats of silence passed where the only sound was laughter and the thumping bass spilling from the bar. Where moments earlier she had felt liberated, her confidence now wavered, as it had for days. Her nerves grew a little more frayed. Charlie stared out the window again, and she studied his strong profile, his square jawline. What was he thinking? Probably that he wanted to hurry up and get this evening over with.