It's Never too Late - By Tara Taylor Quinn Page 0,92
she sees me out there.” She was babbling. Stalling. And continued, anyway. “Do you want me to answer her?”
“If you want to.”
“You don’t mind if I’m in your house?”
“Do I have reason to mistrust your intentions with my grandmother?”
Oh, God. His answering hadn’t been a good sign at all. It had just been a Mark thing to do.
“No,” she said softly. “You don’t. My affection for Nonnie has been sincere from the beginning.”
As has my affection for you, she added silently, hoping he’d ask and give her the chance to say the words aloud.
“Feel free to go in, then.”
Tears sprang to her eyes again and she swiped at them impatiently. “I just...I want you to know...I have to turn over the list, Mark.”
“I figured as much.”
“If I could find a way to let it go I would, but—”
“I get it,” he interrupted. And added, “I’d like to know how much time I have. I’ll need to make plans. To prepare my grandmother for travel.”
“Just hang tight, will you? I’m hoping it won’t come to that. And if it does, I’ll make sure that you have all the time you need. At least until the end of the semester.”
“I won’t need long. We’ve got our home in Bierly to go back to.”
She wanted to die. Right then and there. “Nonnie still didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“She sold the house in Bierly, Mark.”
Silence was the only reply she received. Until she heard a tone signifying the call had been lost.
* * *
HE WANTED TO HIT something. Hard.
Stamping through the desert where he’d driven to cool off that second Thursday morning in October, Mark tried to find himself in the cacophony of violent thoughts and raging emotions that had taken possession of the man he’d once been.
It was almost comical the way things had stacked up against him. How was a guy supposed to fight things that were so completely out of his control? How was he supposed to fix them?
He’d thought about calling Nonnie, to reassure himself that Addy had been wrong when she’d told him that Nonnie sold the home she’d been born in. But he was afraid of what he might say to his grandmother if he found out the woman—the lawyer—he’d slept with had been right. So he’d pulled into an establishment offering free wireless service, gone online on his tablet and searched out recent closings in Bierly instead.
When he saw his home address right there, in black and white, he was beyond surprised.
The good news was, the savvy old lady had gotten a decent price for the place. She’d have safeguarded the sum, too. There was no doubt in his mind about that. Her money would sustain her until he could get back on at the plant, find a home in Bierly for them to rent.
It was when he pulled out his cell to call his former boss to ask for his old job back that he caught himself. He had a job. One he actually liked. With good benefits. Right there in Shelter Valley.
A town that he also liked.
The duplex was on loan to him only for as long as he was a student at the university—a condition of the scholarship—but there were other places to rent in town.
And someday, when he saved up the money, he’d find a school in Phoenix that would accept him and he’d get his safety engineering degree, too.
If he stayed, he wouldn’t risk Nonnie’s life with another long drive.
This was how a guy fixed things. He took what he’d learned and continued moving forward, one step at a time.
By the time he’d almost reached his truck, he’d convinced himself that life was good. And then he had a flashback: Addy, naked and open to him. He pushed the image away. Started walking faster—to the point where he was working up a sweat.
He remembered her soft skin. Her laughter. The vulnerable look in her eyes when he’d walked out on her that morning.
He almost made it out of the desert. Almost, but not quite. When his truck was only feet away, when he knew he was going to have to drive back to town and face a life without Addy, Mark fell to his knees and wept.
And then, in control once more, he went home.
* * *
“SHE CAME BY.”
He didn’t want to talk about it.
“I asked her if you slept with her.”
“I told you, you’re overstepping your boundaries. I suggest you shut your trap.”