Elizabeth Finn - Unforgiven

She got tired of waiting for a response, and since she had no idea what to make of his silence, she continued. “My mom has decided to move to Memphis. In a couple weeks. Most of the galleries that show her work are closer to Memphis than they are to Savoy. My parole office approved the transfer, and the parole office there has agreed to the transfer of jurisdiction.” She cleared her throat. She was stalling for some reason. “I just think it would be better.” And then she looked away. This was a hard conversation. It shouldn’t be. She was likely making his day, but it was hard because it was painful.

Her mother had been absolutely right when she’d said Bailey wanted to be close to Darren. It didn’t seem to matter that he hated her. It didn’t even matter that he was more than willing to show her just how much he hated her. It was funny because her need to be close wasn’t some self-destructive action that she was inflicting on herself—though any shrink in the world likely wouldn’t believe her if she said it. She just really and truly needed to know if he could ever forgive her. He’d given her no reason to think he could, but he’d also not completely given her reason to think he couldn’t. Not completely.

He’d touched her. He’d shown desire where he should have none. He sought her out, and it wasn’t to hurt her. She could understand his need to lash out, to be angry, but there was more there than that, and whether he intended to show it or not, he did. Even now, he was just watching her, seriously and coolly, but he was giving her no real reaction beyond that. What he wasn’t doing was making it clear he agreed with her decision. He wasn’t saying good riddance. He was just watching, glaring, staring, and intimidating her with his dark eyes. But he said nothing. What that meant for Bailey was a load of regret. She was used to regret, but this regret was for an action she’d not yet taken. She was going to move away, and she’d likely never get an answer to her question as a result. Could he ever forgive her?

“Darren, I’m sorry if my coming back here caused you more pain. I don’t want that, and I hope my leaving will help.” She was saying exactly what she didn’t want to believe, and still, he gave her nothing. If he would only agree, if he would only show her, tell her just how much he detested everything about her, then she could walk away and that damn question would be laid to rest, but he was a rock. Not a strong, time-withstanding rock of surety, just a quiet, distant, unfathomable, and hard creature. Perhaps this was her payback, and he knew his silence would send her packing with more questions and regret than she already had.

“Please say something.”

She watched as his Adam’s apple rose and fell again; the tension in his shoulders and neck was visible in the set of his body. His nostrils flared as he inhaled a deep breath, and when she finally gave up and turned to return to her bike, he grabbed her elbow. His hand clamped down tight as she paused midstride. “Coward.” His teeth were gritted as he spoke, and his jaw was tight.

Her eyes filled with tears. He had no idea what this was truly about for her. “I just don’t want to hurt you.” She could barely stifle the sob that was welling up in her throat, and as his grip loosened on her elbow, she pulled away and walked to her bike.

He stared at the ground as she moved her bike out of his way, and he ignored her entirely as he pulled out before her, leaving her staring after him. When she arrived back at her cottage, she settled into the chore of packing her life up. She didn’t have much choice but to leave with her mom, and when her mom had called a week before, it didn’t take her more than five minutes to make the decision. Just because the decision was an easy one did not make it a welcome one. She didn’t want to hurt him, but she also just didn’t want to be face-to-face with the fact that she was hurting him every day.

There was no escaping him here, and she didn’t want to. That was the kicker. He might want to be away from her, but she didn’t, hell couldn’t, feel the same way. She also couldn’t let him leave his life in Savoy because of her. He’d earned his place there a hell of a lot more than she had, and she simply wasn’t going to be responsible for it. The fact she was broke and couldn’t even pay her utility bills at this point helped her make the decision. She just had no choice at this point.

Her phone rang, and she collapsed on the couch exhausted. There were boxes strewn about. Some were full, some were half empty, some were still completely empty. She had little time. Her mom had made the decision on the spur of the moment, something her mom was quite prone to. Her lease had run up a few months before, and she was paying month-to-month on the place. It was time. Her mom knew the landlord would show up with another lease, expecting her to sign and lock herself in for another year, and what Bailey’s mom knew was that she didn’t want to be there for another year.

So, Bailey was left with less than three weeks to pack and get her parole officer on board with her plan. Fortunately, the sweet old man seemed to like her enough to be on board with about anything she wanted. She couldn’t support herself at this point, and seeing as no one really wanted her there anyway, it seemed like the right thing to do.

“Oh, hon, this is going to be good for us. You know that? We need a new start. I sure know I do, and baby, it’s time for you too.”

“I know, Mom. I’m looking forward to it.” Her voice didn’t sound very convincing. In some ways she was looking forward to it, but in another way, one she was struggling to ignore, she was dreading it. But her mom was right. It was just time to move on and forget her old life. Her life had hurt people, and it was continuing to do so even now. Time to cut her losses and run.

“It’s not a bad thing to look forward, Bailey, and stop looking back. I know this is hard for you. I also think it’ll be easier in the long run, happier even.”

“Well, since they’re disconnecting my electricity the Monday after next if I don’t pay the bill by then, and I haven’t a penny to pay them, I’m taking it as a sign from God that I’m supposed to be Memphis bound. ’Sides, it’s too damn hot in Arkansas in the middle of summer to go without electricity.”

Her mom chuckled. “So, Michelle is going to sell your furniture for you in her garage sale next month?”

“Yeah. The store has a delivery truck, so she’s going to send it over next weekend and have them move my furniture to their warehouse until next month. She keeps telling me she’s going to send me the money, and I keep telling her to keep it since she’s the one who gave me all the furniture anyway.”

“She’s a good friend to you, Bailey. I know you’re going to miss her.”

Bailey said nothing. She was choked up at nothing more than the thought. This place had been her home once upon a time too. She’d been a good student; she’d won a few awards in writing, and she’d been one hell of a swimming competitor too. People not only knew who she was, they knew her for the right reasons. People still knew her plenty well, and they also knew her for reasons she couldn’t run from. Her fall from grace had been ugly, and people had long memories in these parts. So, why was this so hard?

Part of her really did wish Darren had said good riddance. It would have helped. If she knew for sure she was doing the right thing for him, at the very least she could rely on that getting her through this decision, but he’d been so damn stoic. He held his emotions and opinions close to the chest around her in a way he never used to. He truly wasn’t her Darren anymore. He was a shell of the man she used to know, and this had to be the best thing for them both. It had to. She’d give him the distance he needed, and maybe someday he’d remember what an amazing man he could be. Maybe someday he could move past what had happened and find some shred of peace in his life. He deserved that.

Michelle arrived later with some old pictures of Jess, Michelle, and Bailey. They’d spent all their time together, and the only reason Michelle wasn’t with them on that fateful spring break was because her college’s spring break didn’t coordinate with theirs. There were more pictures than Bailey recalled having ever taken, and they pored over them for hours. They giggled, they laughed, and they cried. A lot. It was hard for Bailey to look at pictures of Jess’ vibrant eyes and then remember the dead ones she’d seen looking back at her in the wreckage of the car. It was hard to see so much life in her best friend’s image and know she was responsible for taking it away. At the same time, she couldn’t help but laugh at some of the pictures.

Jess had always been the star of a room. Bailey had been plenty popular too, but Jess was just the type who commanded attention. She was beautiful, but at the same time, she could be loud and brash, and she wasn’t afraid to make a fool of herself. That meant there were plenty of pictures of Jess being a complete and utter dumbass, and there was no way of looking at those and not laughing. By the end of the night, Bailey was so tired she could barely keep her eyes open.

She woke the next morning, and Michelle was gone. She would be at the furniture store by now, and Bailey would be spending the day packing again. On the coffee table was a picture Michelle had left. It was of Bailey and Jess. They were suntanned and standing on the beach at the lake, but they weren’t wearing skimpy bikinis or trying to look like women. They might enjoy the attention they got when they did, but they also knew how to get dirty, and that was obviously what they’d been doing on this day.

Jess wore an old, tattered T-shirt with the arms cut off, and the front of the shirt was covered in mud. Her long, dark hair was tangled and held off her forehead by a bandana. Her arm was slung around Bailey’s shoulders and Bailey’s was likewise slung around Jess’. Bailey was wearing a black halter top, and she was covered in as much mud and sand as Jess was. She wore jogging pants that had been cut off into shorts, and her hair was up in a high, messy knot on the top of her head.

Bailey couldn’t remember the day for sure, but she knew they’d been out traipsing through the woods around the lake. They’d catch painted turtles before setting them loose after a while; they’d give the dead fish that washed up on the shore a proper burial by tossing their carcasses back into the water; they’d pretend they were in another world while they explored the thick and humid woods. And in the end, they’d show back up at the beach looking like two homeless beach bums, smelling of dead fish and lake water.

They’d no doubt been camping and boating during summer break, and Darren was most likely nearby laughing at their absurdity while he rolled his eyes. Their smiles were genuine and carefree. They weren’t posing to look good. They really didn’t give a shit if they did or not. They were just being young and fun. They had their whole lives ahead of them to be serious and grownup after all.

Four Years Before

“Honey, I have some bad news.” Her mother’s eyes were already tearing as she looked at Bailey through the glass. The tears were nothing new, but the announcement of bad news was. Bailey gritted her teeth and braced herself for it. She could do nothing else but wait for it. “Your dad is sick. Lung cancer.” Bailey’s face must have looked panicked because before she could respond, her mother rushed on. “He’s seeing an oncologist in Little Rock regularly, and he’s doing well. The chemo is taking a lot out of him, but we’re really hopeful, honey.”

Her mother had that nothing-can-get-me-down sound to her voice, and it terrified Bailey to no end. It was a contrived inflection, and she was trying to convince herself as much as she was Bailey. “Then why isn’t he here? You can only make this trip once every couple months, and he’s never missed yet. Why isn’t he here?”

Her mother didn’t respond right away. She looked like she was pleading with the world to open up and swallow her. Bailey understood. It couldn’t be easy to have this conversation through a glass window with your daughter who was sitting in jail and had been for over a year and would be for at least another four even if she behaved well. “Just a bit under the weather’s all. He’ll bounce back, baby. He’s a fighter. Don’t you worry ’bout your daddy. You know he wouldn’t want that.” Bailey nodded, but she was barely hearing her mother’s words.

Her ears were buzzing, and she knew there was so much to say, but she was failing to figure out what exactly. “Well . . . well . . . I mean . . . what are the doctors saying? Has it spread, how big is the tumor? How . . . well, I thought he’d quit smokin’. How . . . I just don’t understand.”