I can't forgive. I've tried. If he'd innocently lost control of the car and hit me, it would have been forgivable. I don't know how innocent the accident was. God, I can't believe in my heart of hearts he deliberately hit me with the car. But too many questions have gone unanswered.
Questions I want to remain unanswered.
They said he left me lying in the street as if I were an animal. That is unforgivable. I don't know if I can ever get over it.
Because it reminds me too much of what my father did. He left me without looking back. And worse, Caleb destroyed the one chance I had to impress my dad. I push my way past Caleb and head to the attic, a place that's dark, secluded, and private. I'm not even thinking about black widow spiders as I open the attic door and hobble inside.
Gosh, I used to worship the ground Caleb walked on. He was tall, handsome ... clearly one of the populars, where Leah's and my status teetered on the edge. As if that wasn't enough, nothing ever bothered the guy. Maybe it's because guys like him always get what they want, they never have to work hard for anything. Maybe, deep down, I'm glad he's having a hard time. And deep down I know it's selfish for me to think this way. I shouldn't thrive on someone else's unhappiness.
But as the saying goes, misery likes company. And I feel miserable, inside and out. Isn't it fair that the person who's miserable with me is the guy who made me this way?
Mrs. Reynolds followed me, I can tell by the powdery scent that travels with her.
"This is a mighty interesting place to hide out. I thought you were afraid of spiders."
"I am, but in the dark I can't see them. Is he gone?" I ask hopefully.
She shakes her head. "We need to talk."
"Do I have to?"
"Let's just put it this way. You're not leaving the attic until you hear me out."
Defeated, I sit on one of the trunks. "I'm listening."
"Good." She takes a seat on the chair, still left here from the other day. "I had one sibling," she says. "A sister named Lottie. She was younger than me, smarter than me, prettier than me, with long, slender legs and thick, black hair."
Mrs. Reynolds looks up at me and continues. "You see, I was the fat kid with bright red hair, the kid you look at and have to stop yourself from cringing. During summer break from college one year, I brought a boy to my parents' summer home. I'd lost weight, I wasn't in my sister's shadow anymore, and I finally started feeling like I was worth more than I ever thought I deserved."
I can picture it in my mind. "So you overcame your fears and fell in love?"
"I fell in love, all right, head over heels. His name was Fred." Mrs. Reynolds pauses, then sighs. "He treated me as though I was the most amazing girl he'd ever seen. Well, he did until my sister came to the summer house for a surprise visit." She looks directly at me and shrugs. "I found him kissing her by the docks the morning after she arrived."
"Oh my God."
"I hated her, blamed her for stealing my boyfriend. So I packed up, left, and never talked to either one of them again."
"You never talked to your sister again?" I ask. "Ever?"
"I didn't even attend their wedding two years later." My mouth drops open. "She married Fred?" "You got it. Had four kids, too."
"Where are they now?"
"I got a call from one of their kids that Lottie died a few years ago. Fred's in a nursing home with Alzheimer's. You know what the worst part is?"
I'm riveted by her story. "What?"
Mrs. Reynolds stands, then pats me on my knee. "That, my dear, is what you're going to have to figure out all by yourself."
"You think Caleb should stay and build the gazebo, don't you?" I ask when she starts walking to the door.
"I'll leave that decision up to you. He won't go back to jail if it doesn't work out, I would never let that happen. I just figure he's a boy who wants to right his wrongs, Margaret. He's waiting downstairs for your answer."
She walks out of the attic. I hear her orthopedic shoes shuffling as she takes each stair. Can I just stay here forever, living with the spiders and cobwebs and antique trunks filled with an old lady's memories?
I know the answer, even as I stand and head down the stairs to face the one person I've been dying to avoid.
He's sitting on the couch in the living room, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. When he hears me enter the room, he looks up. "Well?"
I can tell he's not happy I have the control. Caleb used to always have the cards and knew which ones to play to get his way. Not this time. I'd love to tell him to leave. That's his punishment for not loving me back. But I know that would be idiotic, childish, and stupid. Besides, I don't love Caleb anymore. I don't even like him. I'm convinced he can't hurt me anymore, physically or emotionally. "You can stay."
He nods and starts to stand.
"Wait. I have two conditions."
His eyebrows raise up.
"One, you don't tell anyone about us working together. Two, you don't talk to me ... I ignore you and you ignore me.
I think he's going to argue because his lip curls up and his eyebrows furrow as if he thinks I'm an idiot.
But then he says, "Fine. Done deal," and heads to the backyard.
I find Mrs. Reynolds in the kitchen, sitting at the table drinking tea.